BURY ME A G, #1

  Bury Me A G

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  BURY ME A G

  First edition. November 3, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Tranay Adams.

  Written by Tranay Adams.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Bury Me A G | A Novel by Tranay Adams

  Copyright 2015 by Tranay Adams Bury Me A G

  Acknowledgements

  Bury Me A G

  A Novel by Tranay Adams

  Copyright 2015 by Tranay Adams Bury Me A G

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in review.

  First Edition March 2015

  Printed in the United States of America

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Email: trnayadams@gmail.com

  Facebook: Tranay Adams

  Cover design and layout by: Sunny Giovanni

  Book interior design by: Shawn Walker

  Edited by: Shawn Walker

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank everyone that has purchased my novels, reviewed, and suggested them to a friend and/ or has given me a shout out. I greatly appreciate it. There are too many of you to name so I hope this will suffice. Thank you a trillion timez for your support. I fuckz with chu the long way.

  Shouts out to my turf, South Central Los Angeles. I stay putting on for our city. I hope to make my brethren proud. Salute!

  Salutationz to all of my niggaz on lock supportin’ my shit.

  Hookah, I hope we stay friendz forever, I love you to death.

  Choc, you already know what it is with us.

  Tiaz, I just made you immortal. Lol #MyGuyTy

  Ain’t No Friendz In Dis Shit! It’z All Business, Nuttin’ Personal.

  If I close my eyez after this one, just know that I gave this game my all. I tried to kill it every single time I put dat pen to dat pad, I swear to God. I waz tryna be the best there ever waz or ever will be. Hopefully I gave you a classic outta deez four bookz ‘cause I for damn sho’ tried. #DaLiezICantTell #RealLife

  The Saddest Thing In Life Is Wasted Talent-Alonzo A Bronx Tale

  Chapter 1

  The sun went into hiding bringing forth the night and allowing the white marble known as the moon to reign over the City of Angels. Its glow stood out in the dark sky and dimly illuminated all that was beneath it.

  A black on black ‘94 Chevrolet Caprice with pitch black tinted windows and chrome twenty-two inch rims pulled into an oil stained driveway. The loud music playing within its confines could be heard faintly as it caused the vehicle to vibrate. Once the engine of the ghetto classic was executed, its Carolina blue headlights died along with it.The driver’s side door swung open and Chevy stepped out carrying a purse and lunch bag, making her way to her white stucco home.

  Chevy was a slim, high-yellow chick with a dimple in her chin. She stood five feet seven inches and had long jet-black hair that reached her heart shaped ass. But the highlights of her features were her soft brown eyes andfull lips.

  She had just left from her job at Platinum Protection Security. She was a $12. 34 an hour security guard for the company. The pay wasn’t all that grand, but combined with the money she had stashed it helped to keep the bills paid and a roof over her and her son’s heads.

  The gig was pretty much easy. All she had to do was play watch dog to an under construction apartment building. The tenement was downtown on Skid Row, so most of the time she was chasing off homeless people looking for some place to crash for the night, or scrap metal and copper to steal and sell. When she wasn’t doing that, she was scribbling down chapters that would eventually be her first urban lit novel I Got Your Back.Since she was a little girl she fantasized about being a published author, mentioned beside the likes of Donald Goines, Ice Berg Slim, Claude Brown and the rest of the greats. So for now, she was on

  her grind.Writing, working and stacking dough aside that she’d need to publish her book.

  When Chevy entered through the door of her home she found her ten year old son, Te’Qui, and her younger brother, Savon, sitting on the couch playing the PS4.

  “Hey, momma.” Te’Qui greeted his mother without taking his eyes off of the flat-screen. He was an intelligent but very impressionable kid that rocked his hair in five cornrows and wore glasses.

  “Hey, baby,” Chevy responded, hanging up her hefty jacket and lunch bag. She kissed Te’Qui on top of his head before heading into the kitchen.

  “What are y’all playing?” She took a Heineken from the refrigerator and leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

  “Madden,” Te’Qui answered.

  “Yep, and I’m beating the brakes off of him, too.” Savon chimed in.

  Savon was fair skin, much like most of the members of his family, compliments of his Puerto Rican heritage. He sported his hair in a close fade that swirled into 360 waves. His right eyebrow had an old scar over it that stretched over onto his eyelid.

  Savon was making a pretty good living peddling crackabout four years ago, until two jack boys crashed his trap and left him with two in his chest. That was the day he turned his back on the game.

  Not long after he left the hospital, he gave his remaining products to his lieutenant and took what money he had to start his own businessCleanliness Is Next To Godliness.It was during his recovery when he decided his life wasn’t worth the cost of the hustle, so he didn’t mind backing out and going legit.At least after he handled all unfinished business.

  About two weeks after he returned home, the cats that robbed him were found in the basement of an abandoned house hog tied with the back of their skulls blown out. After paying his debt to the game and tying up loose ends, Savon cleaned his hands and strictly operated his cleaning service business.

  “Te’Qui, did we get any mail?” Chevy asked after feeling inside the letter holder and finding it empty.

  “Uh huh.” Te’Qui answered, chewing his tongue and working the controller. His eyes hadn’t left the flatscreen.

  “Well, where did you put it?” Chevy grew impatient with his vague response.

  “Umm, it’s on the nightstand in your room. What’re you looking for? A letter from your jailbird boyfriend?”

  “Te’Qui!” Chevy shouted and stomped her foot angrily. “What did I tell you about putting my business out in the street? You want me to come over there and smack you into next week?”

  “Ah, decisions, decisions.” Te’Qui flippantly spoke before Savon punched him. “Ouch!” He rubbed his arm and looked at his uncle like he was crazy. Savon was wearing a scowl like a young Ice Cube in his N.W.A. days. “Whatchu hit me for?”

  “For talking back to your mother.Now get cho ass in your room! I’ll be in there to talk to you in a minute.” Savon’s eyes followed Te’Qui as he didn’t hesitate to head into his bedroom, frowning and rubbing his arm. He got to his feet and turned off the flatscreen and the PS4. Savon treated Te’Qui more like he was his son. He, his sister, and his nephew were closely knit. He loved them to death.

  “What’s up with chu, Chevy? You can’t find one of them white collar brothas to square up with? After Faison I thought chu would have had enough of these thug ass niggaz.” He popped the cap off of the Heineken he’d just gotten out of the refrigerator.

  Fai
son was Chevy’s ex-boyfriend and Te’Qui’s father. They’d been together since high school and had plans to get married down the line.

  Faison was heavy in the streets, trapping like his life depended on it. But he would definitely put his money where his heart was. He copped the house Chevy and their son lived in and the car she drove. He’d even set aside the dough Chevy needed and still has set aside for her book to be published. Everything was running as smoothly as a well-oiled machine and their relationship seemed to be picture perfect, that was until Chevy came home one day and found Faison dicking down the next bitch.

  At first Chevy just stood in the cracked opened door silently crying, but then something within her mind snapped. Her face twisted with anger and she barged into the bedroom. She located the gun she had stashed inside of the closet. Faison was trying to give her an explanation for his infidelity, but she wasn’t trying to hearnone of that shit. She turned around spewing vulgarities and letting her ratchet buck. Faison and his fuckbuddy had escaped outside in the nick of time. The girl had managed to flee with her life, but he had caught one in the shoulder and went stumbling to the sidewalk. Chevy stood over him with her cannon pointed down at his face ready to blow him away.

  “I loved you. I fucking loved you!” She roared like a lioness with hot tears streaking her cheeks as her chest rose and fell. She whimpered and her bottom lip quivered. She wiped her tears away with one hand but quickly placed it back on her weapon, double clutching it.

  “Baby, please!” Faison winced and pleaded, lifting his hand.

  “Don’t ‘baby please’ me! You got caught fucking another woman in my bed. In my bed? Really, Faison? In my mothafucking bed?” Her brows furrowed and her jaws squared, “Kiss your black ass goodbye, nigga!”

  She was about to pull the trigger when Savon snatched the pistol from her grasp.

  “Fuck are you doing?” Savon spat, snapping her back to reality. She blinked her eyes as if she were in a dream and looked down at Faison. He was groaning in agony and his blood was sprinkled over the cracked sidewalk. “Get Te’Qui and take ‘em in the house and lock the doors.”

  Chevy looked to Savon’s car and Te’Qui was inside with his face and hands pressed against the glass, he’d seen the whole scene unfold before his eyes. She didn’t question him. She just got her son and they ran into the house, slamming the door shut and locking all of the locks as her brother ordered.

  Savon tucked the pistol on his waistline and got Faison to his feet. He planted him into the passenger seat of his Camero and drove off. He wiped the pistol clean of Chevy’s prints and tossed it into the gutter.

  “Listen up, I don’t know why my sister shot you. In fact, I don’t even give a shit.” Savon explained as he maneuvered his Camero through traffic. “Knowing what kind of person she is, I’m sure she had good merit. But should any harm come to her over this you may as well grab a shovel and start digging a fucking hole for yourself ‘cause you sure as hell gonna be a dead man. You hear me?” His scowling face snapped from the windshield to Faison.

  “Arghhh.” Faison grumbled in agony grimacing as he held his bleeding shoulder, his blood seeping between his fingers. He was too consumed with his wound to refute what had been said. So he just lay there wrinkling his forehead and gritting his teeth, writhing. “Errrrgh.”

  That was a year ago. Since then Faison would send his men over faithfully every weekend to pick Te’Qui up so they could spend time together. He’d stop coming by once they’d fallen out about her seeing this local hustler by the name of Azule.

  Faison hated the ground he walked on. He was what you would call one of those old swagger jacking ass niggaz. He walked, talked, and even acted like Faison. As if that wasn’t enough. The nigga wore his hair and dressed exactly like him, too. Now he was laying the pipe to his bitch.Goddamn! Faison couldn’t wait until the day came when he came across that ass because he was going to do him something bad.

  The cold part about it was Chevy wasn’t even messing with dude anymore. He sold her a dream, got the pussy a few times, and disappeared. The nigga changed his number and even moved. It was like he’d went into the witness protection program.

  Chevy folded her arms to her chest. “Last time I checked, you were a thug, too.”

  “Ex-thug, sweetheart, I’ma business man now. Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness.” Savon held up the logo of his company which was emblazoned on his denim Dickie shirt.

  “Well, painting stripes on a hippo doesn’t exactly make it a zebra, now does it?”

  “Whatever, Chevy. I’m through with the streets.” Savon lied. He wasn’t slinging crack, but he was selling ounces of exotic weed on the side. It wasn’t because he needed the money. He just loved the thrill of the hustle. He triedto step back but it kept calling him. So with little fight, he was back in the mix that held him hostage.

  Chevy knew all about Savon keeping one foot in the game and the other in the square world because she knew her baby brother was full of shit. She gave him theyeah rightexpression, waved him off and took a swig of her Heineken.

  “Look, I’m worried about chu, that’s all.You’re my big sister and I love you. I don’t wanna see you get mixed up in some shit behind some dude, feel me?”

  “Aww, that’s sweet of you, but you don’t have to worry about me. I can handle myself. Trust.” Chevy smiled and pecked her brother on the cheek before leaving the living room, taking the remainder of her beer to the head before tossing it in the nearby trash.

  Chevy entered her bedroom closing and locking the door behind her. She removed her nightstick and her Glock. After storing them away, she peeled off her uniform and tossed it into the clothes hamper. Throwing on a gown, she sat down on the bed and shuffled through the mail that lay upon her nightstand. Finding the letter she was looking for, she slid under the covers and ripped open the envelope. She unfolded the letter that was inside and began to read it.

  What’s up, Love?

  How are you doing? I hope well. As for me, I’m alright. As good as alright can be when you’re living under these circumstances. I’ll make it though, niggaz like me are bred to survive anything. I’ve missed you, which is funny considering I just saw you two days ago. Those two days seem like a century, crazy right? I’m not trying to game you or nothing. I’m just telling you how I feel, keeping that shit one hunnit, like I always do. I can’t wait ‘til your next visit when I can see that beautiful face, admire that breathtaking smile of yours, smell the scent of that sweet perfume you wear and feel your body pressed against mine when we hug. Damn, you gotta nigga thinking about breaking up outta this bitch to come and see you. It would be worth the extra time I’d get. Anyway, I can’t wait to see you again. . Take care of yourself and lil’ man. Peace.

  Love always,

  Tiaz

  Chevy held the letter to her chest and fell back in bed, a smile curling her lips. She then flipped over and buried her face in the pillow screaming. “Oh, my God. I’m like so in love with him,” She moved her legs like she was underwater trying to swim.

  She rolled back over, glancing at the letter and kissing it. She exhaled and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of him going throughout her mind. She then folded the letter up and placed it back inside of the envelope, sitting it inside of the nightstand drawer.

  After pushing the drawer closed, she turned off the lamp light and snuggled under the covers. The smile transcended to a grin as thoughts of Tiaz carried her off to sleep.

  Chevy had never been the one for online dating, but one day while she was getting her hair done at the salon she heard this lady talking about how she’d met the love of her life on Penpals.com. Initially, she turned her nose up at the idea, feeling as though she was too good to go looking for her soul mate on the net. But one lonely night she decided to to make a profile and go browsing.

  She was hesitant at first but she went ahead and contacted Tiaz. They went back and forth messaging one another until he had to go. They talked about anything and everythi
ng under the sun. She felt like she knew him inside and out. It was like they didn’t have any secrets between each other. He was real easy to talk to and understanding. He didn’t judge her for anything, nor did she judge him. They got along great. Their souls were the perfect marriage.

  ***

  “What I’m tryna say is since your father isn’t here, you’re the man of the house now. And it’s your job to love, respect and protect your mother, man. All y’all have now is each other.” Savon lectured his nephew as he sat beside him on his bed.

  “What about you?” Te’Qui looked up to him.

  “You’ll always have me.Your unc ain’t going anywhere.” Savon threw his arm over Te’Qui’s shoulders, pulled him close and then kissed the top of his head. He then glanced at the calculator watch around his wrist. “Let me get up outta here. I gotta be at work in the next couple of hours.” He rose to his feet and headed for the bedroom door. He pulled it open and was about to step through it when his nephew called him back. “What’s up?” He threw his head back.

  “I love you.No homo,” Te’Qui stated.

  Savon chuckled, “I love you too, neph’.” He closed the door behind him as he left, locking up the house.

  Te’Qui locked his bedroom door behind his uncle and dashed over to his dresser. He pulled open the drawer and reached under his folded undershirts. He grabbed a red bandana and a pair of black sunglasses. He tied the bandana around his head Tupac style and slid on the sunglasses. The dips of his forehead deepened and his nose scrunched up as he struck gangster poses in the full body mirror, throwing up the set he was destined to be from.

  “Yeahhh,” he spoke, feeling like an official G as he took in his reflection. He wanted to be the hardest, grimest nigga living from the Bloods and he wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten that glory.

  Chapter 2

  Tiaz sat on the commode taking a shit and flipping through the pages of Smooth magazine as his cellie lay across his bunk. A sheet hung along a line that separated them and as soon as he dropped a turd, he’d flush it. This was done out of respect for his cellmate and so he wouldn’t funk up their living space.