Chapter Thirty
Tango
Tango navigated the rented Intrepid through the busy Manhattan streets with Mouse nestled comfortably underneath his arms. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other arm around her. She was half asleep. He was all smiles. Despite the minor mishap over dinner at the Blue Hill restaurant about his occupation and the money she found in the closet, it was a marvelous evening. He couldn't believe that he was about to become a father again. Mouse was going to be his seventh baby mama with his next youngest child. He hasn't seen or spoken to any of his kids in years. But he felt that this one was going to be different. Boy or girl, he was going to be in his child's life no matter what.
He made a promise to Mouse, to stop his dangerous activity on the streets. That meant no more killing. He had lots of blood on his hands, already committing several murders and he had gotten word on the streets that he was on Young Gangster Crew's most targeted list. Tango found out through a friend that there was a pricey bounty on his head. A snitch reported to YGC that they noticed Tango lingering around a few victims before their demise. They put two and two together, noticing how the bloodshed started up right after Tango's release. But now he kept a low profile and killed with subtly, so he thought.
Tango squeezed his woman tight. He couldn't wait to get back home and spend some more quality time with his woman. He was ready for some intimacy. Mouse always had him aroused, and the fact that she was pregnant and having his baby, he couldn't wait to get some of that pregnant pussy. He was excited. The only thing that worried Tango was income. With him giving up killing, how would he make his money? He didn't have any legal work experience or carry any trade. The only thing he knew was the streets. He had been conniving his parole officer. The bitch was too stupid to tell fake paystubs from real ones or his peoples was just that good in forging fake documents. But he knew a good thing never lasted for too long. He had to find new means of employment somehow.
He was cruising on the Bruckner Expressway, in the Bronx and going to check on Eliza. Then after that, head back home and be in good hands for the remainder of the night.
Tango drove through the Bronx streets. It was late. He listened to Hot 97 and made a left on Third Avenue. Once on Third Avenue, Tango glanced into his rearview mirror and had the assumption that he was being followed. It felt like the same headlights had been trailing him since he crossed over the Willis Avenue Bridge.
Mouse was sleeping, so he didn't want to disturb her, or even worse, scare her. His pistol was underneath the driver's seat and plus he had a .38 in the glove compartment. He drove carefully and continuously looked through his rearview mirror to see if his belief was right. He knew he was right; there was a car following them. Tango kept his cool and his speed limit moderate. He continued driving north on Third Avenue. It was almost a ghost town at 3:00 a.m. The shops and bodegas were closed, traffic sparse, and not a resident in sight. It was a part of the Bronx that slept and remained quiet during the afterhours.
Tango came to a stop at a red light, and with the car idling at the intersection he slowly reached underneath his seat to remove his pistol without trying to wake up Mouse. He kept cool and breathed easily. His attention was fixated in the rearview mirror, watching the following car approach closer and closer. In his mind he felt danger coming his way. It angered him that muthafuckas had the audacity to try him while he was with his woman. But maybe he was jumping to conclusions. It could be nothing, he wanted to believe. But if it wasn't, then how did they find him? And how did they know it was him?
The car approached slowly and stopped parallel to his ride at the red light. Inside the blue Charger were two black males, very young and looking like thugs. Their rap music blared and they bobbed their heads to the explicit lyrics. Tango gripped his pistol slyly. It was fully loaded and cocked back, ready to start blasting if needed. He glanced into the car and remained deadpan. The two black males glanced his way then averted their eyes from him.
Once again, it could be nothing, or something; Tango wasn't about to take that chance. Mouse was with him and he would do anything to protect her. He raised his pistol slightly while his right arm was still wrapped around Mouse. His foot was on the brake and he was ready to react.
The two males glanced his way again and then smirked. It seemed like the red light was taking forever to change back to green. He was out in the open, feeling vulnerable. Things were becoming too on edge.
The light finally changed green and the Charger drove off, not being a threat. But the real threat came out of nowhere. All of a sudden multiple shots were fired at his car. It came from two black male pedestrians emerging from out of nowhere. They rushed his way with their guns blazing. His car was under fire. Mouse woke up to the frightful sound and screamed with the passenger glass shattering around her. Tango slammed Mouse down into the seat, returned fire, and then pressed down on the accelerator. The car sped away at a high speed with the passenger windows shattering as bullets ripped through the car. He could still hear the shots ringing out. Tango drove several blocks away from the gunmen, thankfully escaping the threat. Mouse couldn't stop screaming and panicking though. One minute she was sleeping and comfortable with her man; next thing she knew, she woke up frightfully startled in a war zone.
“What the fuck, Tango! What is goin' on?” she screamed.
Tango didn't answer her. His attention was on the streets. He drove fast and constantly kept looking in his mirrors to see if anyone was following him. They had set him up. He was furious. He thanked God that he survived the hit, because it was amateur hour. But Mouse could have been killed, and if that had happened, then Tango would have rained down some biblical shit on everyone in the Bronx.
Mouse couldn't stop shaking. She continued shouting. She wanted to know what had happened. Why were they shooting at them? “Answer me, Tango!” she heatedly screamed. She even physically tried to attack Tango while he was driving almost causing him to sideswipe a parked car.
Tango was highly angry. He frowned. His blood was boiling. Muthafuckas had the audacity to try to kill him and his bitch on this perfect evening. The only thing on his mind was revenge, death.
“You better tell me sumthin', Tango. What the fuck!” Mouse shouted. She continued to punch and smack Tango as he was behind the wheel.
Tango had to pull to the side and park the car. Mouse was going to make them crash. He climbed out of the car to think and to get away from Mouse. But Mouse wasn't having it, though. She jumped out too and ran around the car and continued hitting on Tango, punching him in his chest, shoving him, and wanting to know who tried to kill them.
“I fucked up, all right!” Tango screamed back.
“What are you talkin' about, you fucked up! What did you do?” Mouse was crying. She was still shaky and couldn't believe what had happened. The rent-a-car was shot up; bullet holes were in the doors and the windows shot out completely. The front seat had shards of glass in it and they didn't know where the gunmen were at.
“What did you do?” Mouse asked intensely.
Tango gazed at his woman. He raised his arms and locked his fingers behind his head. He exhaled noisily, trying to keep his cool. It didn't feel safe. He wanted to console her and let her know everything was going to be okay. He was going to take care of everything, and do it his way. But the way Mouse looked at him, it seemed like she didn't want any more dealings with him. She seemed fed up. He became nervous; he felt his worst nightmare was about to come true, that she would walk away from him and leave him for good.
“Baby, I can fix this.”
“Fix what? They tried to kill us, Tango. They shot at us!” Mouse screamed so loudly, her voiced echoed for blocks.
“We need to get back in the car and go,” he suggested.
Mouse walked around hysterically. She didn't sign up for this shit. Tango had his fist clenched and holding the pistol in the other hand. It was still outside. The section they stopped at felt like a standstill. As Mouse ranted, Tango repeatedly looked around the area, keeping his guard up and making sure they didn't come back to finish the job. YGC and Power had to be the ones behind the attempt on his life. He knew it.
“I'll tell you everything, baby, but we just need to go, get out of sight,” he said.
Mouse looked reluctant. She gazed at Tango with so much discontent that she wanted to walk away and not get back inside the car with him. It had been such a lovely evening, and then it all went to waste. She had so many high hopes and dreams for them; now his past or his stupidity was coming back to haunt them, or most likely, destroy them both.
“Mouse, just get inside the damn car so we can go,” he hollered.
“Don't curse at me, nigga!”
Tango sighed with frustration. The more they lingered in the street the more likely trouble would come their way, either from the gunmen searching for them or the cops coming to investigate the disturbance in the area.
Mouse unwillingly got back in the car with him. Tango drove away, distancing himself from the area but the damage had already been done. Mouse sat with her arms folded across her chest and frowning a great deal. Her tears fell like water from melting ice. She wanted to hit him again, punch Tango in his face so hard he would have the taste of her knuckles in his mouth for a month. But she didn't; she rode silently, pondering and nervous like hell. Who was this man, really? She loved him but there was still that awkward mystery about him. People don't try and kill you for no reason. Once again she thought, was it his past finally catching up to him or did he fuck with the wrong people?
When they arrived home, Mouse was all over him. She was ready to pack her bags, or pack his bags and throw him out. She was loud and so angry, the way she felt she could knock down mountains. Again, she wanted to punch him in the face. He had put her life in danger, and what if Eliza was with them, then what? She would never be able to forgive him or herself if anything happened to her daughter because of her incompetence. Tango had to explain himself. He couldn't lie his way out of this one and no one wasn't going anywhere until she got a reasonable explanation from him. So he went on to say that he owed a drug debt to someone large in the streets and they had some harsh words. Tango said it got physical between him and the drug dealer. Mouse didn't believe him. She threatened to leave him.
“Baby, I can fix this, believe me,” he sternly shouted.
“Fuckin' how?” Mouse retorted.
“I know I fucked up, but give me a second chance. I'm tellin' you the truth,” he exclaimed.
Tango knew he couldn't tell her the truth that he was a psychotic killer, murdering rival gang members in cold blood and being paid $5,000 a head. It would surely drive her away for good. He would do whatever to hide the truth from her, even lie when earlier in the restaurant he made a promise to never lie to her again. But he felt this was different; he was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to him. And he was ready to fight tooth and nail to keep his woman.
They argued heatedly. Their spat went from room to room. Mouse couldn't hold back her emotions and her hands; she repeatedly hit Tango from his chest to his face.
“You so fuckin' stupid! You so stupid, Tango. Oh my God!” she yelled.She wanted to hate him, but it was hard.
Tango didn't retaliate; he knew she was upset. He played defense and tried to block all of her outraged swings thrown at him. She was heavy-handed and had quick hands. Tango was surprised. She needed to vent, and if she used her hands in doing so, he didn't care. He knew he was wrong. The shooting kept replaying over and over in Mouse's head. She came so close to death. And the frightful feeling of her daughter almost becoming an orphan tonight it made her fume even more.
“I want you to get the fuck out, Tango.” Mouse was crying.
Tango didn't budge. He didn't plan on going anywhere. He was ready to fight for his relationship and fight in the streets. They weren't going to get away with this. Tango gazed desperately at Mouse, his eyes pleading for another chance. He approached lightly; Mouse was ready to swing on him again.
“I said get the fuck out!” she screamed madly.
“Mouse, baby, I ain't goin' nowhere. I love you too much to let you go, baby. I do,” he proclaimed coolly. “You know I do.”
He continued approaching her carefully like she was a rabid dog and he was the trainer trying to tame her. Mouse cried. Her fists stayed clenched. Every bone in her body said to let him go, but the way Tango stared at her, there was something in his eyes that hurt them both so much.
Tango reached out to her; she recoiled from his touch. She didn't want to be held or consoled. She wanted peace of mind.
“Baby, I promise you, that life ain't me anymore. I know I made a mistake. I know I fucked up. I got out, felt the pressure and went back to my old ways, and dabbled in that life again. But since you came into my world, I'm ready to give it all up, like I promised you in the restaurant. My life don't mean shit if you and Eliza ain't in it,” he strongly proclaimed.
Unrelenting pressure stirred inside of Mouse. She heard him, but could she believe him? Her contemptuous gaze stay aimed at Tango. When he stepped closer, she took two steps back.
“Why are you ruining this wonderful night for me?” she questioned sadly.
“Baby, I didn't ruin it; they did,” he chided.
“I don't know if can do this wit' you, Tango.”
“Baby, don't say that, please don't. Yes, you can. We a family, baby. You and me, we one, Mouse. I love you. You hear me? I fuckin' love you,” Tango expressed with conviction.