Authors: Tranay Adams
Pavielle journeyed back inside of his bedroom where
he found a portrait of him and Vayda on his nighstand.
Staring at the photo caused a smile to etch across his lips.
A host of memories zapped through his mental, hitting him
back to back. He knew in his heart that she was the one for
him and he wanted her back in his life forever. He thought
about what G-momma had said:
Anything in life worth
having is worth fighting for
. Then he thought back toVayda,
was she worth fighting for?
Fucking right his baby was. She
was worth fighting for
.
She was worth killing for. She was
worth dying for. She was worth living for. And he was
going to do whatever he had to do to get her back.
Pavielle called Vayda every twenty minutes, when
she didn’t answer he left messages. Once her voice mail
filled up, he texted her. He then sent her countless messages
through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and
email. He
waited an hour, but still no word from his boo. So he
decided to take it to the streets and hit up every hotel,
shopping mall, grocery store, and restaurant she may be. He
was going to start at all of her favorite hangouts and work
his way down.
Pavielle took a quick
shower, shaved, threw a
stocking cap over his frizzy braids and got dressed. He
hopped into his ‘96 Chevy Impala and hit the streets looking
for his boo. He searched for his woman like the Terminator
searched for Sarah Connor. He checked every spot he could
think of but he came up with nothing.
Pavielle didn’t get back home until 1:30 P.M that
night. He lay in bed watching the ESPN sports channel,
with Damu snuggled under him. The dog could tell his
master was depressed and he wanted to comfort him. This
was the best way he knew how; men’s best friend. G-
momma had made her youngest grandson his favorite meal
in hopes of cheering him up. Pavielle was too depressed to
eat a single bite, so the fried catfish, cornbread, yellow rice,
and broccoli went untouched. The only thing on his mind
was Vayda. He wanted to be near her; to feel her body
pressed against his; to run his fingers through her curly her;
to kiss her full lips; to inhale her scent. It was like he had
said the night at the pier when he had proposed, ‘
She was
his drug
,’ and he needed his fix.
After letting Damu loose inside of the patio, Pavielle
rummaged through the few articles of clothing Vayda had
left behind, trying to find one that still wore her scent. He
came upon a beige satin bathrobe. Holding the robe to his
nose, he closed his eyelids and inhaled deeply. Taking in
her essence, he smiled and took another whiff.
“Damn, babe, a nigga missed you so much,” he said
just above a whisper. Using one hand to hold the robe to his
nose, he used the other to unzip his Levi’s and pull out his
meat. He huffed and puffed as he jerked off, pulling and
tugging on his dick. Tears rolling down his face, he uttered
his lover’s name over and over again as he neared his nut.
“Vayda, Vayda, Vaydaaaa, ahhh, Vayda, I’ma ‘bout
to…I’ma ‘bout to cum, boo,” His eyes rolled to the back of
his head and his mouth stayed stuck open, making croaking
noises. It was almost as if she was right there with him and
he was fucking her up against the wall. He could have
sworn that he heard her moan of passion and felt the grip of
her pussy. Veins formed up his neck and became visible on
his forehead, soon after he was shooting his load across the
bedroom. Holding the robe down at his side, he continued
to stoke his dick until he was empty. His entire form
shuddered, feeling the aftershock of him busting a nut.
Wiping his hands off on the robe, he then climbed into bed
and balled up into a fetal position. Thoughts of his fiancé
invaded his mind before the Sandman eventually arrived
and carried him off to sleep.
Pavielle was awoken the next morning by the crowing
of his Mexican neighbors’ rooster. Slowly coming around,
he felt a small hand reach inside of his jeans and take a hold
of his morning wood. Instinctively, he went to reach for his
.9mm on the nightstand. It was gone.
Fuck,
he thought and
his head snapped over his shoulder. He found Vayda
holding his own gun to his dick head, her finger curled
around the trigger. Her eyelids were swollen and her eyes
were pink and glassy. It was obvious to him that she’d been
sobbing, probably ever since she’d left the house that night.
“I love you, Pavy,” She began
, snorting snot back up
her nose. Tears trickled from her eyes. “God knows I do, so
my dumb ass is going to come back to you. But if you ever,
ever put your mothafucking hands on me again, I’m going
to blow your fucking dick head off,” she blinked and more
tears jetted down her cheeks. “Do you understand me,
nucca?” her voice cracked under her emotions, but she was
dead ass serious. If he ever laid hands on her again, she was
going to blow his dick off and empty a whole magazine into
his chest, straight like that. Pavielle closed his eyelids and
nodded in agreement.
Slowly, Vayda took the burner from her man’s dick
head and sat it down beside her thigh. The Creole vixen
broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. Pavielle put up his
meat and zipped his jeans back up. He then cupped her face
and kissed her all over it, telling her how much he missed,
loved, and needed her in his life.
“I’ll never do anything to hurt chu ever again, ever.
You hear me, baby? I love you too much to lose you, boo.
You’re my queen. You’re my queen and I’m your king.” He
kissed her on the lips and held her tightly as she sobbed into
his chest. Tears ran down both their faces as they sat up
wrapped in one another’s arms. They then fell asleep
hugged up with dry white tears staining their cheeks.
A black Mercedes Benz pulled up outside of Thangz
Aunt’s house. Avenue hopped out of the car and went
around to the back passenger door. He pulled the door open
and stood to the side as Pavielle made his exit. Stepping into
full view the young kingpin saw Thangz coming out of the
house with a big cardboard box, followed by Bully on
crutches. Seeing what he had did to his big homie made
Pavielle feel even worse than he did the night he had shot
him.
Bully saw Paville headed his way and he called
Thangz over. The busty crack fiend loaded the last box into
the back of the U-Haul, closed the shutter, and ran right over
to her man. Keeping his eyes on the young kingpin, Bully
whispered something in his lady’s ear and she looked over
to where he was looking. She scowled at the man that had
wounded her nigga then ducked off inside of the house to
do as she was told. Pavielle saw the exchange and figured
she was running off to retrieve his gun. And if that was so
he couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t seen his big homie since
the night he had shot him. He probably didn’t know what to
expect from the unannounced visit.
“Ain’t shit, it’s been a minute. Just thought I’d swing
by and chop it up with my nigga,” he told him. Looking
over Bully’s shoulder, he saw Thangz standing in the
doorway, with her hand behind her back. She was holding
her man’s gun, no doubt.
Thangz was strapped and paranoid. She and Bully had
been up smoking crack from dusk ‘til dawn. The doctor had
given the O.G some painkillers for his wound, but they
weren’t as effective as the crack rocks he scored from his
Mexican homie.
“I see
your ladyover there holding it down,” he
nodded to Thangz in the doorway, and Bully glanced over
his shoulder. “I’m not mad at her though. My girl would be
doing the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot.”
Pavielle cleared his throat with his fist to his mouth and
continued. “Look, Bleed, I’m not really big on apologies,
so…” he tossed him a bankroll of hundreds the size of a
small roll of toilet paper. “Why don’t we just let bygone be
bygones, so we can get back to getting this money.”
Thangz licked her chops from the doorway at the sight
of all that money her man was just given. All she could
think about was how much crack they could score with it.
Bully tossed the bankroll up and down in his palm as
if it were a baseball. He paused for a minute as if he was
thinking about something and then he tossed it back over
into Pavielle’s possession. The young kingpin seemed to be
taking aback by his big homie forking the money back over.
He thought for sure at the sight of a roll that thick he’d have
no problem getting him back on the team, but he was
mistaken.
Thangz could have had a heart attack when she saw
her man cough all of that money back up. A bankroll that
size could have had them beaming up for at least the next
couple of weeks.
Damn
, she thought,
why my man gotta be so stupid?
She twisted her lips and stomped her foot, throwing a fit
like a big ass baby.
“I’m good. Pockets still fat,” Bully patted the bulge in
his pocket. “Besides, I’m leaving the hood. Don’t you see
that big ass U-Haul van in the driveway? I’m outta here.”
Pavielle looked to the U-Haul and frowned when he
saw the big ass moving van. He didn’t know how in the hell
he had missed it.
“Leave? With all of this money in the hood, fuck you
tryna leave for?” Pavielle looked at the muscle bound
hoodlum like he was an Alien that had just landed on earth.
Bully took a deep breath and massaged his chin,
trying to find the right words. “Have you ever seen a
western where there are two bad-ass gunslingers in town,
and one tellsthe other, ‘This town ain’t big enough for the
both of us?’ Well, this hood ain’t big enough for the both of
us, and if I stay then one of us gotta die. The streets already
talking, they are waiting for me to offyou. It’s in my jacket:
Original Gangsta killer. I’m known out here for putting in
that work, niggaz know my resume. These fools aren’t
going to let me walk these streets if I don’t kill you. And if
I do that it would break my best friend’s heart, as well as
mine. I can’t do that to Gangsta, so I might as well save
myself the embarrassment and shake the hood, you Griff
me?”
Pavielle nodded his understanding.What Bully was
doing was best for the both of them. He didn’t know it but
his little homie had a new found respect for him.
“If it will make you feel better,” Bully said, taking the
bankroll and shoving it inside the pocket of his jacket. He
then held out an arm to embrace Pavielle. The young
kingpin stepped forward and they embraced in a gangsta
hug.
“I love you, Blood, and I’m sorry about all of this
shit,” Pavielle spoke sincerely, breaking their embrace.His
eyes held moisture. He was genuinely hurt that he’d let his
jealousy get the best of him and placed a wedge between
him and his homie. If only he could press rewind and take
that bullet out of his homeboy’s leg and put it back into his
gun and his gun back on his hip.
“I love you too, duce owe,” Bully replied, heading
towards the U-haul van, where Thangz was waiting behind
the wheel. Pavielle stood on the curb and watched the van
drive away until it disappeared into the florescent rays of
the sun.
Avenue was laid back in the barber’s
chair with his
eyelids shut,in Ms. Turner’s Barber Shop on 22
nd
and
Central. After dampening the exsinger’s facial hairs with a
hot, wet towel, the slender Ms. Turner had began lathering
his
five o’clock shadow with shaving cream.“I really
appreciate chu blessing me with the job and all those fly ass
threads, young blood.”Avenue told Pavielle, who was
sitting in the barber’s chair beside him. He was also getting
prepped for a shave.
“I hear you, bu
t what I mean to say is...Thank you.
Thank you for helping me get a lil’ taste of my life back. I
really mean that.” He said seriously.
“Oh, no doubt, you got that, new school. It’s the least
I could do.” Avenue responded. “I want chu to know that
I’m a dedicate my life to this thing here we got going,” He
pounded his fist to his chest. “And I’ll die for this shit.” he
stated proudly.
Pavielle made his way out of Ms. Turner’s Barber
Shop eating a bag of Hot Cheetos. Avenue came out right
behind him brushing down his fresh fade with a jeweled
hand. His new hair style accompanied by his new gear made
him look like a completely different man. In fact, if you
were to lay eyes on him at this very moment, you would
have never guessed that he had been smoking crack for the
past thirty-five years. Looking to his right Avenue saw a
beat up, old Monte Carlo with a missing headlight coasting
up the block at fivemiles per hour. Avenue’s street sense,
much like a Spider Sense, kicked in and an alarm sounded
off inside ofhis head “Danger, danger, danger.”
Suddenly a cell phone went off diverting Avenue’s
attention from the suspicious car on the creep. He looked to
Pavielle who had drawn his cell phone from his hip. The
young kingpin sucked the Cheeto residue from his fingers
as he stared at the screen of his cell phone. “Fuck this nigga
won’t?” he frowned and raised an eyebrow. “Oh.” It
dawned on him who it was that was hitting him up. He
pressed
talk
and brought the cell to his ear. “What’s up with
it?”