Thug Matrimony (27 page)

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Authors: Wahida Clark

BOOK: Thug Matrimony
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“Keenan, don’t do this.”

“I don’t want to but since I can’t get you to talk to me, you leave me no choice. It’s either you or her. All I’m asking for is just one night.”

“One night? What do you mean one night?”

“Mrs. Santos, the doctor will see Jahara now,” the receptionist called out.

“Just a minute,” she snapped nervously at the receptionist. “What do you mean one night, Keenan?” She felt as if she was going to have an anxiety attack.

“One night, that’s all I’m askin’. You owe me that, you gonna
give me that! Angel, look, you really don’t have a choice in this matter. I know you don’t want to see your sister all fucked up, so I’ll get back with your ass in a couple of weeks. Let you get everything together. Keep this between me and you. When I call you again, just have your ass ready to move.”

Chapter 21

Four days later

“Y
eah,” Snake answered.

“Yo, nigga, we got serious problems,” Phillip screamed into Snake’s ear.

Snake held the phone away from his ears and looked at it. “You foul, P.”

“Foul? Where you at? I need to come by and scoop you up.”

“I’m back home, nigga. You got that off, and that twenty five grand ain’t gonna make me or break me.”

“Nigga, don’t get it twisted. Twenty five stacks damn sho’ ain’t gonna break me neither. I wasn’t tryna stiff yo’ ass, I had some urgent shit that I had to handle. But yo, listen, sumthin way more serious than twenty five g’s needs our attention. All over the news they talkin’ about that.”

“Talking about what?”

“Man, y’all failed. Homegirl is in the hospital in critical condition. Nigga, it’s a very fucked-up situation. Very serious. It’s not lookin’ good.” Phillip was trying to talk in circles but he was so mad, he was having a hard time. “It’s not good. Too much at stake.”

“So what this got to do with me?”

Snake heard a bang. Phillip was so mad he punched a hole in
the wall. Through gritted teeth, Phillip snarled, “You was supposed to handle that. You know how much I got on the line? A mutha-fuckin’ empire! I could lose everything. She can finger me.”

“Man, it was handled just the way you requested. You said three to the stomach. That’s what you got. How the fuck was I supposed to know that the bitch was superwoman? And that was your decision to be all up in her face and shit.”

Phillip let out a tired laugh. “Man, do you hear what you’re saying? That bitch is a witness and can finger all of us. I suggest you come up with sumthin and sumthin fast, like within the next twenty-four hours.” He slammed the phone down.

“Ain’t this some shit!” Snake immediately dialed Bullet. “Nigga got me fucked up,” he mumbled.

“'Sup?” Bullet answered.

“Man, get Whitey. I need to see y’all.” He hung up and looked down at Carmen, who was kneeling in between his legs. She had snorted some coke off his dick and now she was sucking his hard-on as if her life depended on it. He grabbed her by her hair and motioned for her to stop. She looked up at him, eyes wide as saucers, and started giggling. “Go take a shower and get dressed. I got some people coming over.”

Twenty minutes later, Bullet knocked on Snake’s front door. “'Sup?” Bullet sauntered in wearing a big straw hat, a wife beater, and a pair of Docker’s shorts and sandals. He noticed how Snake was looking at him. “Why you lookin’ at me like that? I was chillin’ sittin’ by the pool, man. It’s hot out.” He smiled, sporting his white and yellow gold teeth.

“Whatever, nigga. Sit down. I just got a call from P.J. That little white bitch survived.”

“She what?”

“She survived, she’s in critical condition.”

“Damn.” Bullet sighed.

“Tell me about it. My concern is, she saw y’all faces. I don’t have a problem with you. But Whitey, he be on some other shit
sometimes. I might have to do sumthin with him. Can’t have no witnesses, yo.”

“Hold up. Hold the fuck up, Snake. We straight. We fam and everything but that’s family. That white nigga is like my little brother. He act dumb as shit sometimes but we been running thick as thieves since elementary school. And I ain’t never saw no signs of weakness.”

“So, what are you saying? You vouching for the cat?”

“Snake, we got so many bodies together it’s sickening. Don’t forget we not new to this, we true to this. If he wanted to get funky on you he had several chances to do it. The last time being when you put him out of the car, he could’ve tripped then. But what he do? Went on with the job.”

Snake was mulling it over, knowing deep down that Bullet was right. However, he needed to be sure.

“He cool, so don’t trip. He least of your worries. So what? We gonna go back for her or what? And you know I want that nigga, Phillip. A deal is a deal. Let me
do
that nigga!”

“I don’t know. I’ma have to talk to Dino, sumthin I’m not looking forward to. This nigga gonna preach a whole sermon and jump all in my ass.”

They both turned to Whitey, who let himself in. He never knocked like everyone else.

“What it do?” He flashed his gold grill.

“Bullet will fill you in. I gotta make a run. Show yourselves out,” Snake told them. “I want y’all to lie low. Real low until y’all hear from me.”

“What’s up?” Whitey asked as they stepped onto the front porch.

“Aw, shit. Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Bullet mumbled as the Escalade pulled up in front of them. “He looks pissed the fuck off.”

“Who that with Dino, Big Steve?” Whitey tried to shield his gaze from the sunlight.

“Yup. That who that be.”
They must have found out,
Bullet said to himself as he watched them get out of the car. “Dino. Big Steve. What’s up?” Bullet gave Steve a hug. “You mean you left big pimpin’ Jersey to come down to slow-ass Miami?” Bullet joked.

“Only for a minute. What y’all boys up to? White Boy, what’s up? You still tryna be black?” Steve gave Whitey a hug.

“Steve, you still tryna be a pimp?” Whitey cracked back. “And the last time I looked I was black. The last time you looked was you still a pimp?”

“Only a white boy would say some dumb shit like that.” Steve smirked.

Dino looked at both of them. “I’ll get with y’all later. My nephew inside?”

“Yeah, he in there.” Bullet jumped into his Denali and cranked it up.

Whitey walked around to the driver’s side. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Meet me at the crib,” Bullet told him and he started his ride and pulled off. Whitey jogged over to his Ferrari, got in, and pulled off behind him.

Dino and Steve let themselves in. Steve fixed him a shot of vodka and cranberry juice and sat at the bar. Dino made himself confortable on the huge butter-soft leather sectional.

“Look at those pimp of the year trophies.” Steve beamed as he eyed the spacious glass china cabinet that held about twelve trophies.

Snake and Carmen emerged into the living room, looking as if they were on their way to a pool party.

“Whoa,” Snake said as he stopped dead in his tracks. “My two favorite uncles.” He looked at the no-nonsense expression on Dino’s face and handed Carmen the car keys. “Go wait in the car for me.” She smiled at the two men and followed his instructions. “What’s up?”

They waited for Carmen to leave. “P.J. called and said you fucked up. What you done did, boy?” Steve wanted to know.

“Yeah, you care to fill us in?” Dino added.

“I was gonna get with you tonight, Unc.” He looked at Dino. “To make a long story short, I owed P a favor from way back when and he asked me to pop this broad for fifty stacks. We did it how he wanted it done but she survived. Now he wants me to come back up that way and fix it.”

“Bullshit, nigga. You know how hot that shit is by now? What’s the matter with you, boy? First you going koo-koo over some bitch that don’t want you and now you pulling penny-ass murders for some other nigga. I think I’ma have to send your ass away again. You too hot and you are starting to draw too much heat. Miami is mine. And I’ll be damned if I’ma let some little snot-nosed punk, family or not, fuck up what I done built.” Dino was outraged.

“I hear you,” Steve uttered as he chomped down on some ice cubes.

“But, Unc—”

Dino cut him off. “You gave me the impression that you was gonna see him to talk some legit shit. Not no bullshit. Hell, if I had known you was going up there to do some petty shit like this, I would have cracked yo’ muthafuckin’ skull my damned self and saved us all some drama.”

“Unc—”

“Don’t Unc me. All y’all niggas lie low. I’ll let you know what I’m gonna do with y’all. I mean that shit.”

“Damn. That bitch lived? What? She was P.J.’s jump-off who got outta line?” Steve cracked.

“Unc, it ain’t funny. She was some white broad he got pregnant.”

“Aww, Lawd!” Steve yelled, sounding like Steve Harvey. “Boy, you done killed a white broad? And a pregnant one at that? You’s a big dummy! And I mean a big dummy. Shit sounds like twenty
five to life to me and ain’t nothing me and your big uncle Dino can do about that. You’s goin’ down. Boy, that’s double murder! What the fuck was you thinking? And only fifty stacks? Oh, you’re a cheap murderer, and stupid. Yup, brother Dino, I think you’re right, that ass whupping that his ho put on him fucked him up. He’s a goner. But check it, at least your commissary gonna stay stacked. And you might as well give me them three hoes for that.”

“Steve. Shut up, man,” Dino warned, then turned to Snake. “Just lie low and make sure your two sidekicks do the same.” He shook his head in disgust. “You just keep disappointing me, nephew. Let’s go Steve. I done worked me up an appetite. I’ll get with you later, nephew, and stay the fuck put! And I mean stay the fuck put.”

“Checkmate,” Steve said as he closed the door.

Kaylin was sitting up in the dark, thinking. Angel was sound asleep and he had just rocked Jahara backed to sleep and she was still on his shoulder.

He had a tail on Papi and they followed him to a hotel where he picked up Mickey and then they went to Papi’s house. But they were still baffled as to Papi’s connection to Mickey.

“Nooooo.” Kaylin’s attention went over to Angel, who was squirming and moaning in her sleep.

“Keenan … nooo.” Her breathing was sporadic.

Kaylin got up and laid Jahara in her crib, then went and sat on the side of the bed. He rubbed and squeezed her shoulder. “Angel, wake up, baby.” He squeezed her shoulder again. “Baby … wake up. You sweatin’ and shit.”

“Noooo.” Her eyes fluttered open and then she frantically looked around.

“It’s me, baby. What the fuck you dreamin’ about?” Kaylin didn’t know if he should be jealous or pissed off.

She sat up slowly and the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Oh
God. He is in my dreams. My dreams.” She clutched on to the sheets.

“He hasn’t tried to contact you again, has he? You saw him recently?” She looked over toward the crib, and then closed her eyes. “Angel, you talked to him? You saw him again?”

“No, baby, I haven’t.” She forced herself to lie.

“This nigga got you shivering, sweating, and crying in your sleep. After I do this other thing, I gots to handle this nigga.”
This shit has gone too far. This nigga has to be dealt with.

Kaylin and Kajuan were standing at the nurses’ station. The nurse had paged the resident physician so that he could come and fill Kaylin in on the status of Lil’E. The nurse wasn’t telling Kaylin what he wanted to hear and he had become impatient. Lil’E's grandmother was in the room with her. Kaylin couldn’t stay in there for too long; it hurt his heart to see her fragile body with tubes traveling all through her. To him, she looked worse than Trae did. She was still unconscious and in critical condition, but at least she wasn’t comatose. Kaylin was more anxious for her to wake up than the police, who stopped by at least once a day.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” The scream caused everyone to freeze in their tracks. A figure with a hat pulled down over his eyes and hair all over his face came walking briskly out of Lil’E's room. “It’s him again!” Lil’E's grandmother slammed Lil’E's door and you could hear her moving stuff around trying to barricade herself in.

Kaylin and Kajuan took off running behind the guy. They saw him head toward the stairwell. Kajuan jumped over the railing and landed right on top of the dude. They tumbled down a flight of stairs and the dude was trying to grab his gat.

Kaylin caught up and stomped on the hand that was trying to reach for the heater. “Nigga, you should have pulled that out before you started running.” He pressed down with all his weight onto his hand, causing Dude to yell out in pain. Kajuan was
punching him in the face and mouth, trying to get him to stop yelling.

“Get up, nigga.” Kaylin yanked him up and Kajuan was already feeling him for the burner. Hospital security came rushing down the stairwell.

“We got him, go check on my grandma in CCU. There’s two more up there,” Kajuan lied.

The guard hesitated and then yelled into the walkie-talkie, “Moss and Bingham, report to CCU, two suspects on the loose.” He looked back at Kaylin and Kajuan and took off running.

Kajuan cocked the nine and pressed the barrel against dude’s temple. “Don’t shoot, man. I don’t got beef with y’all,” Dude yelled out.

Kaylin was going through the dude’s pockets. “Who sent you?” He pulled out a wallet and opened it, scanning through its contents.

“C’mon, man. Let me get out of here. I don’t even know y’all. I don’t got beef wit y’all fuckin’ good Samaritans.”

“Good Samaritans? Fuck you, that’s my peeps in that room!” Kaylin rammed his head into the wall.

“Unnghhh.” He slid to the floor and was breathing as if he were in labor.

Kaylin stood him back up. “Who sent you? This is my last time asking.”

“Fuck you, man. This ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

“Aiight, cool.” Kaylin pulled out his license. “I’ll see you later.” He looked down at the license. “Wallace Taylor, 124 West 119
th
Street, aptartment S10.” Then he pulled out photos of children. “Oh, look, Wallace Junior and Krissy. Oh, who is this?” Kaylin taunted.

“Man, hold up.”

“Nah. You hold the fuck up. Who sent you? Is his name more important than your family?”

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