La Familia 2 (16 page)

“Fuck you,” I inadvertently shouted out in front of everyone.

“No, fuck you! You a grimy bitch, Sammy, no lie. I was willing to give you the world and make it happen, for you and Mouse, but what you did to me, it's unforgivable,” he heatedly replied.

“You and Macky are both fucked up in the head and I hope you end up just like him,” I exclaimed. The minute the words escaped from my mouth, I regretted it.

“Macky?” Search uttered with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I heard you went out on a date with him, and now he's dead.”

I said too much and said it around too many people listening.
Did I just dig my own grave?

“You were fuckin' Macky?” Search asked. I could hear the rage in his voice.

“Yeah, I fucked him,” I lied. Why did I lie, only to get him jealous? Search had a thing for me and the way he hurt me, I wanted to hurt him right back. Even if it risked exposure of the crime I committed.

“You were always a fuckin' slut,” he snapped.

We started to argue heatedly in front of everyone. My customers stood aghast at what was happening. Search now became suspicious of me probably being involved with Macky's untimely death and it was the last thing I needed in my life.

I got so mad that I hurriedly collected my money and my things and rushed off the stage. I wanted to get away from him. I didn't want anyone to see the tears that started to shape in my eyes. I was hurting and it was deep. I went into the dressing room to change into my street attire. I was done for the night and wanted to go home. Search had disrespected me in front of everyone and I couldn't tolerate it. I was so angry with him that I wanted to see him dead, but I wasn't thinking rational. Search was still bitter about everything I put him through over time, from ignoring his romantic feelings for me to the drama and the embarrassment I put him through; and now the shoe was on the other foot and he was the one having the last laugh.

I couldn't help but to notice how good and stylish Crystal looked as she climbed out of her boyfriend's burgundy Benz that sat on twenty-two-inch chrome rims. She was Gucci the fuck down from her shoes to her expensive handbag and looked like she was ready to hit the red carpet at a Hollywood event. Hair done up, nails done, Crystal was my bitch, EBV for life. But now she moved on to better things. She was dating Dodo, a major muthafucka with the YGC. He was a heavy hitter moving serious weight in the Bronx and making a name for himself. She was in love with him. I wanted to be in her position, being with a man who was financially stable and in love, but I refused to deal with that hustler's lifestyle. It came with too much drama. Tango and I were sort of working out, but we both were still struggling and learning about each other. The good thing though, he told me he had gotten the construction job, so things were starting to look up.

Crystal spotted me exiting the bodega and we both became jovial. “What up, bitch,” she screamed happily my way.

“Crystal, what up,” I hollered with a smile from ear to ear. I hurried her way and we hugged each other like sisters. It was so good to see her again. “Look at you, looking like a star,” I said.

“My man takes really good care of me,” she replied.

Dodo climbed out from the driver's side and walked our way. He was tall, at least six foot one with a lean build, narrow face, and intense hazel eyes. He was light-skinned with no facial hair and a pretty boy who was tatted up with gang literature and bejeweled in gold and diamonds indicating his wealthy status. It was all street money.

He looked me up and down and then said to Crystal, “I'll be in the store, babe. You need sumthin'?”

“Yeah, get me a pack of Newports and some chips.”

He nodded and left her side. He was very attractive, I admitted that, but he reminded me of Rico all over again: trouble. However, I kept my feelings about Crystal's man all to myself. It wasn't my business to let her know how I felt about him. We all had to learn on our own. I sure did. It was about reconnecting with an old friend and not creating any drama with a friend. I already was not speaking to Sammy; I didn't want to burn any more bridges.

“So what you been up to, Mouse?” Crystal asked.

I wasn't ready to tell her my business. My life was harsh. Her life was peaches and cream, for now anyway. “You know, just tryin' to do me and make it happen.”

“How's ya daughter?”

“Eliza is doin' good,” I replied pleasantly. “She's getting big.”

“I bet she is. I gotta see her.”

“You do.”

“You look good though, Mouse. I see you gaining some weight, and in the right places. Look at you, bitch, all thick and shit,” Crystal said, eyeing me up and down. “Damn, ya booty got big, too.”

“Me, I see you all styled up and shit. Gucci.”

“Mouse, you always knew I loved my Gucci, and my man is taking very good care of me. He's spoiling me and I'm spoiling him, if you know what I mean.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I know what ya mean.”

“You still beefin' wit' Sammy?” she out of the blue asked me.

It was a question I didn't want to hear or answer. My facial expression told her the truth: we weren't speaking still. I hadn't seen Sammy in months.

“Damn,” Crystal uttered. “I hate to see y'all not talkin'. Both of y'all were tight like sisters.”

“Yeah, we were,” I chimed. “But everything comes to an end.”

“Y'all didn't though.”

I started to get upset that Crystal brought the bitch up. I didn't know what she was trying to resolve, but it wasn't going to work. And if she continued bringing Sammy up, then we weren't going to be friends anymore either.

“Sammy is yesteryear,” I said. “I'm tryin' to move forward and do me.”

“I feel you, Mouse. I got a good man and we got a nice spot of our own in Yonkers and he gonna buy me my first car soon. I'm doin' good, yo. I feel good, I look good and me and my boo comin' up,” she proclaimed affably.

“That's good to hear, Crystal. I'm so glad to see you happy.”

“I am happy.”

I wished we all could say the same. Seeing Crystal looking like a million bucks reminded me of the time Rico had me looking like that. It was all a dream nevertheless, an illusion, something very transient, smoke and mirrors, because when it comes to an end, crashing down, which it will eventually, the wifey, the girlfriend of that hustler, gets hit the hardest. Really hard. It almost felt like I was underneath the Twin Towers when they collapsed and I became trapped underneath the rubble. Yeah, it sounded like I was hating on my girl, but I wasn't. I knew the future and I wanted to warn her, but I knew she wasn't going to listen. We never do.

Crystal and I talked briefly, catching up on old or lost time. Her smile was golden and the bling she wore could purchase a small house. Dodo had his woman shining like a gem. She was riding around the hood in his chariot and feeling like royalty. It's what hustlers do: make their woman feel supreme so we could be blinded by the bullshit coming soon.

Dodo stepped out of the bodega with his lips pulling on a Black & Mild. He looked around his surroundings briefly and I could tell he was packing heat underneath his jacket. He screamed danger. He looked our way and hollered to Crystal, “Babe, let's go.”

Crystal jumped to his command. She quickly said to me, “Mouse, we need to definitely link up and talk. I'll call you.”

I watched Crystal accelerate her way toward the parked Benz and get into the passenger side. Dodo gazed at me briefly and climbed into the driver's side. I wondered why he was looking at me like that. Did he think I was telling his woman something? I wasn't. But I wasn't about to worry myself. I had problems of my own.

The Benz ignited and Dodo slowly pulled away from the curb with Crystal looking my way, waving magnanimously at me. It was the end of a generation, the EBV girls: Edenwald Blood Vixens. We were nothing to play with back in the days; now it felt like we were a dying breed. Tina dead. Meme and La-La locked up, and a few others dead too. I felt like the last bitch standing.

I walked away feeling nostalgic. What happened to all of us? We used to be tight like a mayonnaise jar. Now we were all scattered in different directions, most of us struggling, surviving while few of us were making it.

I really hoped to see Crystal again.

I had this rhyme inside my head that I was ready to spit. It was about old times:

Tango remained hidden in the dark like a shadow, being still and quiet like a church mouse. But he was no mouse. He was a killer on the hunt. He was armed with two twin 9 mm's fully loaded and cocked back. He remained obscured in a rundown Chevy up the block, watching the area like a hawk.

For a week he stalked his prey and planned to execute the hit very soon. He needed the money and couldn't afford to make any mistakes. The man he planned to hit was a dangerous figure in the underworld. One mistake could cost Tango his own life. Tango needed the money badly and had to execute the kill just right. It was do or die. He wasn't thinking about his parole. He was concerned about survival.

Clad in all black, wearing latex gloves to conceal his prints, and keeping his identity a mystery with a ski hat pulled low over his eyes, he watched Dodo climb out of his pricey Benz and walk into the legendary Tosca Café on East Tremont Avenue. His Benz was parked across the street. The area was populated with people, but it was the one chance Tango had to strike. Traffic was sparse. It was 11:00 p.m. and everybody was either where they needed to be or on their way there soon.

Tango departed the rusty Chevy and made his way toward the burgundy Benz. He pulled out a Slim Jim from his jeans and looked around to see if anyone was watching; there wasn't a soul in sight. He proceeded to break into the Benz using his skills and within seconds, he popped open the locks and broke into the car. His plan wasn't to steal the car, but to lay low in the back seat. It was dark and the back seat of the car was roomy enough to conceal himself inside without anyone noticing. The black he wore helped his cover.

Hours passed and Tango was a very patient man. He didn't move an inch. He was like a statue lying on the floor cloaked by darkness and feeling the cold seeping through. He refused to move. He wanted to have the element of surprise. Dodo wouldn't see it coming. It would be unexpected. His breathing was labored and his eyes wide open.

After several hours of waiting and hiding, finally there was some activity. The driver door opened, but unexpectedly, the passenger door opened too. A young woman climbed into the seat while Dodo slid behind the wheel. There was laughter and conversation.

“You my number one bitch, right?” Tango heard Dodo say to the female passenger.

“You know it. I love you, baby,” she replied.

“You better. I take care of my woman.”

“Yes, you do, and I'm gonna take care of my man.”

The ignition started. The people in the front seat were unaware that they had unwanted company lurking in the shadows of the vehicle so closely. Tango remained undetected and cautious. They couldn't even hear him breathing. The radio was playing and the Benz started moving. As Dodo drove, the female passenger, Crystal, unbuckled her seat belt, smiled seductively, and leaned her face into his lap. She unzipped his jeans and removed the growing thing she desired to place between her full lips.

“You always know how to treat ya man,” Dodo said.

“Sssshhh, baby, and just drive while I do me,” she whispered.

Crystal jerked his dick with her manicured fist and then wrapped her lips around his erection and sucked him off. Her head bobbed up and down in the driver's seat while Dodo cautiously navigated his prized Benz through the Bronx Streets. The slurping sounds of dick sucking echoed to where Tango hid. He wasn't moved by it. He had a job to execute and he figured now was a better time than never.

Abruptly, Tango popped up like a jack-in-the-box, emerging from the back seat and startling Dodo and Crystal. He thrust the gun to the back of Dodo's head. Crystal popped up with her eyes widened with fear.

“You move and you die,” Tango said coolly.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Crystal exclaimed frantically.

Tango pointed the second 9 mm at her head and she panicked. “Chill out, bitch.”

“Please, don't kill me.”

“I said shut the fuck up!” Tango advised her to do through clenched teeth.

Crystal muted her whimpering and looked like she was ready to pee on herself.

“You know who the fuck I am?” Dodo exclaimed.

“Just drive where I tell you to,” Tango calmly said to him.

“You a dead man, muthafucka,” Dodo continued to taunt him. “You're dead!”

Tango smirked. He knew Dodo's threats were empty to him. He had the advantage. He had the gun. He had the upper hand and harsh, threatening words didn't scare him easily. They didn't scare him at all.

Tango instructed Dodo to drive to a secluded and dark area in the Bronx, a street named Edgewater Road. It was a place not too far from Hunts Point. It was an industrial-looking place by the Bronx River with scrap metal yards, truck routes, and dozens of industrialized businesses stretching for several blocks. It was late and everything was closed down for the night. It was a ghost town until dawn cracked the sky.

Tango made Dodo park on a barren block, in front of Sal's scrap metal yard. The Benz sat nestled between a cement truck and a rundown box truck on the block meager with cars. He still pointed both guns at their heads. He made them shut off the engine and sit. Dodo was fuming, but the barrel of the gun pressed against the back of his head made him vulnerable.

“Who the fuck are you?” Dodo demanded to know.

Tango didn't answer him. He glanced at the frightened woman. She was beautiful but teary-eyed. She sat frozen in the passenger seat refusing to take her eyes off the man who held her at gunpoint. Tango leaned closer to Dodo and lowly said to him, “This ain't personal, but only business.”

Hearing that, Dodo knew what was about to come next. And before he could cringe for impact or react, multiple shots went off, lighting the car up in a flashing, bright light.

Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!

Five shots in the head and point-blank range made Dodo slump over the steering wheel with his blood and brains spattered all over the dashboard and windshield. Crystal madly screamed from seeing her boyfriend's murder. She tried to eject herself from the car, but she was too late. Tango aimed and fired, striking her multiple times also in the back of the head and back. She hardly managed to get the car door opened, but her body lay drooping from the passenger seat toward the cold pavement. The entire front seat was coated with blood and decorated with death, as two bodies lay contorted for homicide to investigate.

Tango exited the car in a calmly manner. He looked around; there wasn't a person in sight and no security cameras watching. He had picked the right area to kill them at. He didn't want to kill the girl, but she was at the wrong place at the wrong time; he considered it a casualty of war. She was an unforeseen dilemma. The bitch had to go.

Tango made his way up the block like he was taking a walk in the park. He tossed both guns in the Bronx River and planned to burn his clothes. They had specs of blood on it, and anything involving that night it was going to be incinerated. Today, DNA and forensics could incriminate the sharpest criminal. The good thing, he was $5,000 richer. He already had plans for the money: get himself his own place and have Mouse and her daughter move in with him.