Some Things Never Change: An African American BWBM Urban Fiction Romance (8 page)

The horror at his
realization that he was in love with Lou marred him. He knew he
wasn’t worthy of her. She deserved the best of everything. He
wanted them to eventually get married, settle down and have a few
kids. He was doing this for her, just one last round then he would
call it all quits.

Lou looked at him as
if he was crazy, she checked his vitals and asked him if he was
alright. He said yes, not to worry, he saw a dog run cross the road
and swerved to avoid it. She didn’t look like she believed him
but she didn’t push the argument. They drove in complete
silence to her home. He sped off the moment she got inside. He was a
haunted man trying to outrace the guilty thoughts he wished to keep
at bay.

Wayne needed someone
to confide in and he trusted Lou to keep his secrets but he didn’t
want her to get hurt. He didn’t want anyone to use her as a
hostage to get to him. He had never before unburdened so much of
himself to a woman before. His feelings for her were new and tender.
He finally found someone he could share the daily aspects of his life
with.

He didn’t like
that he had basically lied to her, telling her that he would have
nothing more to do with the business. She told him what she expected,
nothing new, just get out of the business before it’s too late.
He struggled with a guilty conscience. He knew drugs affected people
differently. Some can have their first experience and come out
unscathed, others were not so fortunate. He knew of many athletes who
were all set to make it to the major leagues and after their first
hit became mentally unstable or a slave to the drug and it ruined
their career.

He shouldn’t
feel guilty though, they had a choice, why beat himself up about it.
He didn’t shove the drug down their throats. He couldn’t
force them to buy. Indirectly he was not the one standing on some god
forsaken street corner selling it. He should be praised, he did the
community a service by providing work for those who could never make
it in the rat race so that they could feed their families. It was a
two edged sword someone benefited and someone lost out, isn’t
that the way of life. Why was the drug dealer always seen in the
harshest of light? They were human beings, they have wants and needs,
bills to pay and families to feed. If you prick them, do they not
bleed?

A lot of effort,
thought and hard work went in to the business. He felt he should be
amply rewarded for how diligently he marketed the business, so what
if it was by illicit gains. Lou just sat there all self-righteous and
cute telling him shit he already knew. He doubted that she even knew
what hunger was. She just wanted him to walk away from all of that
money like it was easy. The moment he stepped outside the crew, he
was fair game, all his rivals would be coming for him unless he moved
out of state or left the country.

“The man of the
hour has finally arrived.” Said Fat Boy.

“Whatever man.”
He bumped fists with the twins, then did the same with a few other
members of the crew.

“Where’s
Sizzla?” Wayne asked.

“He’s
inside with Crazy T and the other groups.”

“You left them
alone in there?”

“He’s not
alone a few of us are with them, besides Sizzla said not to come in
until you’ve arrived.”

“Ok then, I’m
here guys let’s go.”

When Wayne had first
arrived at the pound, the place was deserted except for a few
scattered cars. Clearly tonight’s event was invitation only.
They followed the sound of the dogs barking, a match was going on.
Sal was the owner of “The Pound” and would be raking in
big money from the popular black market dog fights. Everyone would
watch the live dog baiting until all the important people had arrived
then the real bartering would go down. The moment he had been waiting
for and anxious about all day had finally arrived.

“Sizzla, what
did I miss?”

“Lost fifty on
that worthless mongrel lying in the corner, all bark and no bite. Now
that you’re here we will all go around the back and make our
bid with the others. We can only take a third of our men with us.”

“You’re
cool with that bro?”

“Not really
Crazy T hates the idea even more than I do but we don’t have a
choice. Those are the rules of the house.”

“Are you sure
these guys are trustworthy?”

“No. The only
person I trust is Sal, he and Crazy T go way back. He’s always
been fair but I don’t know if the others will keep their word.
I’m willing to overlook that because we need the edge this new
drug can give us with the competitors.”

They walked along a
corridor until they reached a large open area and saw nothing but
Bainbridge hoodlums ahead of them. “What are these guys doing
here?”

“Did you really
believe that we would just allow you guys to take over our base and
drive us out of business without a fight?” Shouted the
Bainbridge Leader

His voice came from
directly behind Wayne. They would have been in the room all along and
waiting patiently for their guests to arrive. Suddenly overhead
lights were turned on. He saw Sal the owner of The Pound was bound
and gagged in the corner.

“It is time we
taught you guys a lesson. This is what happens to people who try to
compete with us.”

He spoke loudly and
with authority so everyone in the room could hear him. The Dutty
Bloodz were severely outnumbered, things weren’t looking good.
To think that it was a ruse, there was no hot new drug on the market.
They had fallen into a wicked trap, like a moth caught in a spider’s
web, they had walked into this blind. They tricked the Dutty Bloodz
with their greed to get them all in one place. They had them by the
balls and was squeezing tight. It was a no brainer that if a battle
was to go down the Bainbridge boys would come out on top.

“Guys calm
down, let’s work something out.” Said Wayne ever the
peacemaker.

“Shut up!”
screamed Crazy T. “Don’t you see that these guys want to
run us out of business.”

“There is
nothing to work out. Pay for your disrespect.” Replied the
Bainbridge Leader.

He signaled to his
men and they closed in around the group and circled. The enemies had
blood in their eyes from the last altercation outside the club. Most
of their people had been apprehended by the police and they were
still upset about that incident.

“No way I’m
gonna die in this dump tonight Sizzla, do something.” Wayne
whispered low so that only Sizzla could hear him.

“This was your
plan the whole time. How dare you take us for fools and make a
mockery of our business.” Sizzla was outraged.

“Say your
goodbyes now, this will be your final resting place.” Said the
Bainbridge leader’s right hand man.

“Not if I have
anything to do with it.” Shouted Crazy T. He brandished his
machete in a flurry of moves that had everyone riveted. The blade
gleamed and the edge was sharp, it could cut a single strand of hair
in two with ease. “We’ll end this tonight.”

Sizzla nodded in
agreement. “I’m not going down without a fight and if I
do, I’m taking you with me. Dutty Bloodz today we fight. We
have our pride and no one can take that from us.”

“For once I
agree with that nut job, it ends tonight.” Said the Enemy’s
leader.

Powder shivered
behind Wayne, he didn’t want to fight any more than Wayne did.
Blood lust filled the air, no one escaped it's impact and all felt
crazed. The fight had started amidst hoarse shouts and obscenities
being hurled by the opposing sides.

Sizzla staggered from
the fierce blow flung by the Bainbridge leader. He then bounced back
like his feet were on springs and jumped on the enemy. Crazy T and
the enemy’s right hand man circled each other in the open just
shy of the exit. No one wanted to rumble near them for fear they got
a knife or machete chop if they were in their vicinity. They feinted
to the left or the right and looked for an opening to strike and
catch their opponent off guard.

They continued to
size each other up. They looked for any form of weakness in their
target. It was going to be a brutal showdown once they got each
other’s measure. He had looked in Sizzla’s direction just
in time to see him fling the Bainbridge Leader across the room and
watched his body dent the wall on impact. Sizzla had his back against
the wall so that no one could tack him from behind. Crazy T had his
opponent cornered and wielded his knives making mincemeat of his
enemy. Powder gripped Wayne's arms and turned his attention back to
him. He realized Wayne was inching near Sizzla, determined to help
his best friend. Wayne’s anger was aroused. He needed to get
himself out of this alive. This was about survival, the betrayal was
fuel for his rage. The thought of finally having found true love with
Lou only to lose her weighed heavily on his conscience. He felt
incredibly stupid for having fallen so neatly into this trap.

Powder said. “Fat
Boy said to stay here. Neither of us are true fighters and our
opponents know this, let's not give them any more of an advantage
than they already have.”

“That’s
not possible. I can’t stay by the sidelines and not do anything
to help.” Responded Wayne.

“It’s
hard, I know. I want to help too but we would end up doing more harm
than good. Let’s not be a distraction when the others are
trying to concentrate. Sizzla said to stay out of it unless someone
messed with us.”

Crazy T downed
another enemy, Wayne couldn’t help but admire his stamina. He
was in his element, like a mistreated caged animal released on
unsuspecting prey. His blood lust knew no bounds, his machete had
already severed the tendon on his next opponent. The opponent
collapsed in shock, blood splattered all over his shirt, dripping
from his open wound and gushing from his mouth.

“It seems
stupid to be having this conversation when it’s evident they
need help.” Wayne pointed to where the struggle was real.
Powder tightened his grip yet his hand still trembled.

“Wayne you’re
the brains of the entire operation that is why everyone is jealous of
you. Sizzla specially requested that Fat Boy and I keep an eye on you
for your personal safety.”

Wayne looked at
Sizzla. “It’s hard for me to believe that Sizzla has
acknowledged my greatness but I don’t like being discussed
behind my back, it makes me wonder what else has been said. How comes
he hasn’t said it to my face, was he waiting to write it on the
marker of my grave?”

“Sizzla didn’t
want to make your head swell any more than it already has. Don’t
worry Sizzla, Fat Boy and Crazy T got this, if anyone can pull this
off they can.”

“Yeah, but at
what cost. It doesn’t look like they want us to leave this
place alive. I promise myself if I make out of here alive I’m
done with this business.”

Sizzla and the
enemy’s leader were really going at it. It was a crucial
turning point in his life, this business was literally a dead end.
Wayne finally realized that he didn’t have the hardcore
ruthlessness needed to lead a gang, he wanted more out of life. He
was glad he realized this sooner than later.

Sizzla and Crazy T
were enjoying themselves, it gave them great pleasure to see the pain
in their opponent’s eye and watch them mess up. They were going
at their enemies hard, all were bloody and bruised. Then Sizzla
faltered and his opponent drove his victory home with forceful blows
that rained down hard on Sizzla’s body. Sizzla adopted a
defensive stance, in a bid to ward off the blows. So that his enemy
couldn’t hit any vital areas that would damage to his internal
organs in his weakened state.

Clearly his opponent
was on some performance endurance drug that made him crazed and gave
him herculean strength. His enemy was beyond all clarity and reason,
his only aim was to maim and kill. Crazy T saw him flounder as well
and went over to help Sizzla. He landed two hard jabs that made the
enemy on top of Sizzla double over in pain.

Everywhere he looked
people were dropping like flies. It was literally a war scene with a
flurry of punches and kicks. Both sides had injured men yet they
fought, not wanting to lose ground. Powder took it all in, his eyes
were so scared, his worry for his twin etched all over his face.

Before this drama
ensued they'd led pretty quiet lives, grew up in the working class
bracket in a low income neighborhood. They were not accustomed to
this much violence and had free reign over their territory. No sugar
coating it, this was the most violence all of them had ever witnessed
with the exception of Crazy T. They had all led very sheltered lives
up to this point so it wasn’t hard to see why the situation was
unbelievable.

Look how the mighty
had fallen, both leaders of each side was down, Sizzla and Crazy T
had finally reached their limits. Sizzla lay on the floor gasping for
breath and blood was everywhere. Crazy T was beside him, he had
ripped apart his T-shirt in a bid to stop the flow.

Sizzla was struggling
to breathe just to stay alive. Powder ran to his side to assist him
while Wayne tried to make sense out of Crazy T’s incoherent
ramblings. All this bloodshed had pushed Crazy T over the edge of
sanity, he had lost his mind. This was the first major coup the Dutty
Bloodz had ever been in and it didn’t look like they were going
to win the skirmish. The Dutty Bloodz wouldn’t survive with the
loss of its leaders and Wayne wasn’t going to shoulder that
burden alone. Life as they knew it was officially over for the Dutty
Bloodz. They had more injured on the ground than their opponents.

A hard crushing blow
from a baseball bat sent Wayne tottering to the ground. Wayne closed
his eyes and winced from the pain. He had never in all his years felt
anything like that before. The pain registered was mind consuming and
crippling. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball but
luckily he landed into a rubbish heap. Wayne’s hand searched
for anything he could use as a weapon before his adversary attacked
again. Fortunately he latched onto a wooden chair leg, its broken
edge would do severe damage if applied with great force. This was his
only hope at survival as he had no other weapon on his body.