Prima Donna (20 page)

“
That's not what I'm indicating. All I'm saying is Fat Jerome is not gonna sit around idly, knowing someone has failed to pay him, and do nothing.”

“
Look, the fact remains, the nigga was wrong for what he did to you. Doing that to you was like him doing it to me. Shit, he knew you were my girl when he did it. That's like me laughing and grinning in his face daily, then, when he turn his back, I snatch the chick he care about and screw her. Now, how would that look, and he and I supposed to be business associates? I never once failed to pay him. I only decided not to give him shit after what you told me you suspected he did to you.”

“
Not suspected. The nigga did it to me,” Veronda corrected.

“
Well, he fucked you, and I fucked him. Whatever he wants to do about it, we can do it. ’Cause, honestly, I don’t give a fuck. Besides, is my Forty-Four Desert Eagle still in your closet?”

“
You know I'm afraid of guns, Derrick. So, if you placed it in my closet it's definitely still there.”

“
Good.”

Derrick walked into Veronda's bedroom. He went straight to her closet while she placed the paper bag full of coke underneath her mattress. When Veronda looked up, she saw Derrick placing bullets in the clip of his gun. “What you plan on doing with that, Derrick? I hope nothing stupid.”

“
I ain't gonna do anything stupid. I'm just strapping up because you’re right; that fat muthafuckah just might come looking for me. If in the event that he does, all I can say is, the big nigga betta come correct.”

“
Or?” replied Veronda.

“
Or somebody will pay a severe fuckin’ price.”

Derrick wasn’t a hard-as-hell street gangstah who strived on looking for trouble. He was in the streets to stack paper, not to start problems. Derrick wasn’t a punk either. He knew beyond a doubt that being soft in the game meant getting pushed around, or pushed over. Neither would happen if Derrick could help it. So, when he started selling drugs, one of the first things he did was purchase him a gun. Guns were easy to come across in the hood, and damn near every hustler and bad boy had one. With Fat Jerome and his goons looking for him, Derrick figured it was time he’d carry his gun on him everywhere he went. He couldn’t chance slipping, because slipping on Fat Jerome and his crew could equate to a death sentence, and Derrick wasn’t ready to die.

$$$$$

It was 11:45 P.M., and Fat Jerome’s two hit men, Tye-Tye and Rasco, mobilized through the Westside searching with eagle eyes for their eighteen-year-old target.

“
We've been riding and looking for this young nigga damn near all night, Tye-Tye. And everybody we've asked over here on the Westside act like they don't know who this nigga is, man,” said Rasco.

“
Somebody knows who he is, we just gotta be patient. You know how them young cats are. They get out here in these streets and start hustling and making a lil money and the first thing they want is a lil attention on their asses,” replied Tye-Tye, who had more than killing Derrick on his mind.

“
Tell me ’bout it,” Rasco said.

“
So they go buy the biggest and the nicest car their drug money can buy. They gotta have all the jewelry and half of them carry money around in their pockets, like their pocket is a bank, or something.
These niggas stupid. Stupidity causes a nigga to slip sooner or later.”

“
You right about that, Tye. Stupidity is a muthafuckah. You sho’ right.”

“
I know I am. Not just that, though. The majority of the young cats you see hustling out here, when the cops roll down on them the first thing they do is start rattin’ on their friends and shit.”

“
Yep,” replied Rasco.

“
I know ain’t none of us out here perfect and shit, but if you gon' be a gangsta, be a gangsta. Rattin' to the cops about what goes on in the streets ain’t cool at all.”

“
Naw, that rattin’ shit ain’t cool, dawg. That shit ain’t cool at all.”

“
Neither is getting out of line with someone who puts money in your pocket and food on your table,” Tye-Tye said.

When Tye-Tye said that, Rasco embraced silence a moment, then he said, “What you mean by that, Tye-Tye?”

Tye-Tye was too mad to explain himself. “Hold on a minute, I gotta take a leak.” Tye-Tye pulled his car over to the side of a lonely dirt road, surrounded by trees. “I'll be back.” Tye-Tye got out the car, took a leak and headed back to the car. Instead of heading back to the driver's side, he walked straight up to the passenger side. He opened the door in a hurry, yanked Rasco out and cut Rasco's throat from one end of his neck to the other. It happened so fast that Rasco didn't stand a fighting chance.

“
You're a snake-ass nigga.” Tye-Tye watched Rasco struggle for air. “Don't fight it, muthafuckah, it's over, all fuckin’ over. You talk too damn much.”

To bite the hand that feed you in the streets was a violation of the gangstah code of loyalty. For a nigga to have an unbridled tongue was damn near equally the same, especially when the unbridled tongue talked bullshit in the midst of the bossman conducting business.

Tye-Tye followed up on what his boss ordered him to do. He took Rasco’s life like it was no problem, wiped his blood-stained weapon over Rasco's clothing and left him on the side of a lonely dirt road. He then got back into his car as if nothing had happened and continued his search for Derrick.

$$$$$

3
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIL MIKE

MONDAY AFTERNOON

“
Where you get all of that money from, bruh, if you don't work?” asked Mike-Mike, as he stepped into Derrick's bedroom. He didn't hear Mike-Mike approach because his music was up loud.

“
Don't worry about all that. What I tell you about being so nosy, anyway?”

“
I wasn't being nosy. You had your door cracked—”

“
Regardless. What you doing looking in here. Do you sleep in here?”

“
No, but—”

“
But nothing.” His little brother was about to walk away. “Come here, and shut my door behind you.” Mike-Mike did as Derrick ordered. “How did you like your lil birthday present I bought you?” he asked. He turned the volume down on NWA’s
Fuck the Police
CD.

“
Which one?”

“
The one around your neck.” Derrick bought Mike-Mike a diamond-cut rope chain with a Nike medallion. Mike-Mike reached for it and held it by the medallion. “I love this chain, bruh; it's nice.”

“
You betta, I paid twelve hundred dollars for it.”

“
Twelve hundred dollars? That's more than the Air Force Ones you bought me.”

“
I know. Don't tell Momma, though, a’ight?”

“
I won't.”

“
Why were you and Momma arguing yesterday?”

“
That's between Momma and me. Everything's fine though.”

“
When you left, I saw Momma in her room on her knees, praying and crying. I even heard her say in her prayer, God, I’m putting my son in your hands. Who was she talking about, bruh? Me or you?”

“
Probably you, Mike-Mike.”

“
Me? What I do?”

“
Nah, Momma mad at me right now. You really wanna know why?”

“
Why?”

“
Well, lil bruh, since you twelve years old today, I can start sharing more things with you. Momma mad at me because I do illegal things to make my money.”

“
Like what?”

Like things I shouldn't be doing, and betta never ever see you doing.”

“
Like selling drugs?”

“
Something like that. But anyway, she hates that I do illegal things.”

“
Why you do those things, bruh, if you know that the things you're doing will hurt her?”

Derrick put away his cash. “I don't mean to hurt Momma. I love Momma. But I love also doing what I gotta do to try to help us get out the hood. Little bruh, I hate the hood. Ain’t nothing in the hood but poverty and more poverty. If it kills me, I gotta do what I gotta do to help get us out of here.”

“
Momma said that by this time next year we gonna be moving into a house of our own?”

“
I can't wait ’til next year. I wanna see us in our own house in a matter of months. And that's exactly what's gonna happen if things line up with how I have planned them. Now, besides all that, your Air Force Ones look good on your feet. Thought I wasn't gonna get them for you, didn't you?”

“
Not really. I know you always look out for me, ’preciate it, too.”

Derrick placed his hand on top of Mike-Mike’s head and said, “No problem. I want you to have everything that I was deprived of when I was your age. And make no mistake about it, little bruh, I'll do whatever I have to do to see you with what you like.”

Mike-Mike put his arms around Derrick's waist. He really loved his big brother.

“
Guess what Momma bought me for my birthday? Well, you probably already know.”

“
No I don't. What she get you?”

“
Guess.”

“
A new basketball?”

“
Nope.”

“
A new video game?”

“
Nope, got enough of those.”

What she getcha then?”

“
A brand new computer.”

“
Yeahhh?”

“
Yep, a laptop. She said that she wanted me to be more than a basketball player. She says she wants me to be a lawyer.”

“
What do
you
wanna be? ’Cause at the end of the day, it's gonna be up to you.”

“
I don't know. But I think I want to be more like you, someone who will do any and everything to see his family in a better situation.”

“
I think you can do that being a lawyer, Mike-Mike. Now let’s take a ride. I got one other present for you for your birthday.”

“
Another present?”

“
Definitely. You gon' really enjoy this one.”

“
Oh, yeah, Momma told me to tell you to call her at work when you came in. She had to get to work early. That's why she wasn't here when you arrived.”

“
Okay, I'll call her from my cell phone. Let’s go.”

$$$$$

Derrick's car pulled up at Veronda's apartment. When Veronda came out, the first thing lil Mike-Mike said was, “Ain’t that your girlfriend, bruh?”

“
You betta believe it,” replied Derrick.

“
Man, she's fine. I remember when you brought her to our house. She’s fine.”

“
You think so?”

“
Know so.”

Veronda stepped to the driver’s side of the car, wearing an all- black, skintight, full body skirt, with some all-black stiletto heels. She had the legs and calves of an Olympic marathon runner. Her hair was long and curly like she was mixed with Indian and black. Her skin was caramel and her eyes were a pretty hazel—any man would melt looking into them. Lil Mike-Mike was instantly in love, just like Derrick was when he first saw her shaking her booty at a strip club.

“
Hey, baby,” she said, kissing Derrick on his lips. “What you up to?”

“
Just hanging out with my lil brother, Mike-Mike. Today is his birthday.”

“
Really?” replied Veronda, looking over at Mike-Mike.

“
Yep.”

“
Happy Birthday lil Mike,” she said.

“
Thank you.” Mike-Mike replied, smiling.

“
Baby, don't you got something for my lil brother?” Derrick said, smiling and winking his eye.

“
Sure do,” she replied, then walked around to where Mike-Mike was. She kissed him right smack dead on his lips. Mike-Mike's heart skipped a beat. He looked over at Derrick and smiled.