BURY ME A G, #1 Read online

  The driver wore ablue bandana over his head and one over the lower half of his face. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of black sunglasses. He moved forth in a stroll as if he didn’t have a care in the world with his gloved hand wrapped around the handle of his gun.

  Ta’shauna made her way across the street to the corner. She tried to pull herself up with the support of the lightpost, but her rightleg refused to cooperate. She looked down and saw that her legbone was poking out of the side of her leg. She tried to hop along, calling out for help as she went but eerily no one came to her aide.

  The driver ran up behind her and tripped her good leg out from under her. She fell and busted her mouth on the sidewalk. She grimaced as she slowly pulled her head up, exposing her red teeth and raining droplets of blood onto the pavement. She moved to get up again and pain shot through her scalp as her head was yanked back by her hair, nearly ripping out the tracks of her weave.

  The driver brought his mouth near her ear. “This is for breaking Tiaz’s heart, bitch!” He pressed the Desert Eagle into the top of her skull and pulled the trigger.A crimson spray misted the air and Ta’shauna hit the ground like a tacklingdummy. Threat surveyed his surroundings and saw people peeking out from behind buildings and parked cars. He tossed the Desert Eagle beside Ta’shauna’s body and retreated to the Saab, pulling away from the scene with police sirens blaring from afar.

  ***

  Threat parked the Saab in an alley. He wiped down the steeringwheel and everything else he’d touched. He hopped out of the car and hurried down the alley. He jogged across the street, looking over both of his shoulders. Once Threat reached the other side of the street, he flagged down a taxi. He hopped into the backseat of the yellow checkered taxi and gave him his destination.

  Without even asking if he could smoke, he pulled out a cigarette and fired it up. As soon as the smoke reached the driver’s nostrils, he looked up into the rearview mirror at Threat. The thug locked eyes with him and blew out a cloud of smoke like, What the fuck are you going to do about it? The driver shifted his eyes back to the windshield while Threat went about smoking, focusing his eyes outside of the backseat window.

  He didn’t feel remorse or regret for what he’d done. It was nothing more than doing a favor for an old friend. Tiaz was his brother from another mother and he’d follow him to hell and back if he’d asked.

  The cab made a left at the corner of Pico and disappeared into the scenery of Los Angeles’ traffic.

  Threat had handled the task he’d been given and couldn’t wait to report the news to his right-hand.

  The day after...

  Tiaz was playing cards inside of the day room when a news report came on the television. At first, he wasn’t paying the report any mind, but then he heard a familiar name that got his attention altogether. He stopped and turned around in his chair toward the television, listening closely.

  “‘Sup? Are you gon’ finish your hand, or what?” The old head that was playing cards with Tiaz asked. He held up a finger for the seasoned convict to give him a minute.

  Orlando Greene, 32, and Ta’shauna Reed, 26, was gunned down yesterday afternoon. The victims were shot several times, leaving the maledead on arrival but miraculously the female survived. She was admitted into Cedar Sinai hospital and is in critical condition. More news to come.

  “Goddamn!” Tiaz cursedand threw down the cards.

  An hour later...

  Tiaz paced the floor of his cell taking sips of Pruno. Forty five minutes ago he placed a call to Threat to find out exactly what had went wrong on his mission. He promised to hit him back after he drove out to a telephone booth just outside of the city’s limits. Now all he was left with was the waiting, which was killing him slower than cancer.

  Seeing a flashing light at the corner of his eye, Tiaz whipped around and saw the cell slightly shaking as it was on vibrate. He snatched it up and sat down on his bunk, sitting his jar of Pruno on the floor beside his foot.

  “I fucked up. I fucked up good. You don’t even have to say it.” Threatadmitted as soon as he came on the line. “But I’ma make it right, though. If she survives, I’ll be right there to finish the job. My word is my bond.” He pounded his fist over his heart.

  “Did she see your face, tattoos, or anything she could identify you by?”

  “Come on now, my nigga. You’re not dealing with a novice here. I live and breathe this murder shit. I was masked up. The bitch doesn’t know anything that’ll link me or you to that dirt.” As soon as the lie left his lips, Threat thought back to the day he shot Ta’shauna. He then remembered.This is for breaking Tiaz’ heart, bitch! before letting one off in the top of her dome.

  “Are you positive?”

  “Yes!”

  Tiaz brought his hand down his face and exhaled. “Okay, alright.” He squeezed his eyelids closed and bit down on his curled finger, shaking his head and hating that his friend had failed the mission he’d sent him out on. He exhaled and continued. “Are you alright out there? You need some paper to get chu by?”

  “Nah, everything is copasetic.I ended up bowing down, man. I’ma ‘bout to get on Don Juan’s payroll. But don’t trip ‘cause I’ma ‘bout to work this inside thang. I’ma peep all of the Top Dawgs copping from ‘em and we gon’ see about hitting ‘em for a fat pay day, ya feel me? As soon as you touch the turf me and you gon’ get back to what we do best.”

  “Okay then my nigga, stay up.”

  “Sorry about all of this, T. I’ma make it up to you, I promise.”

  “Don’t even wet it, homie. Shit happens.” He brushed it off as if it was nothing.

  “Alright.”

  “Peace.”

  The skin on Tiaz’s forehead bunched together and he clenched his jaws, throwing the jar at the wall hard. It exploded and its contents spilled down the wall.

  “How could he fuck that up?” He swung on the air a few times, venting his rage. “All he had to do was walk upon the bitch and shoot her dead in the forehead. Bam, she’d be gone. Fuck is so hard?” He threw his hands up frustrated and plopped down on thebunk. He hung his head and clutched it with both hands.

  Ta’shauna may have survived the hit but he was going to make sure she didn’t make it out of that hospital alive.

  ***

  A medium built man with a round belly and skinny arms looked out of the ceiling to floor windows of his house which overlooked the beach. His hair was done in small twisties. He had light brown eyes and a scar that ran from his top lip to his rightnostril. The hair on his face was cut into a design of swirls and diamond shapes within diamond shapes. The chain that hung from his neck was from his great, great, great grandfather who was a slave. Any time twisties found himself facing trying times, he’d touch the chain around his neck. The chain would remind twisties that whatever he was going through at the time was nothing compared to his grandfather’s hardships.

  The fingers of twisties righthand, which he wore several uniqiue rose gold diamond rings on, were wrapped around a glass of Cognac. He took casual sips as he watched the dark waters of the ocean crash against the shores of the beach. Over his bare chest he wore a leopard print bathrobe and matching pants. His feet were adorned in a pair of black suede house slippers.

  At his back sat Uncle Bruce on a black leather sectional couch. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was stained with tears. He wiped his eyes with tissues as he went along talking to twisties.

  “The doctors successfully removed the bullet from out of her head. She’s in a coma now, but if she does wake up she’ll most likely be blind for the rest of her life.” Uncle Bruce told him. “As soon as Ta’shauna comes outta that coma, I want to try and get a description from her of the cat that shot her. That way we can give it to the police, so we can see if they can find this mothafucka.” He waited for his nephew’s response, but he didn’t receive one. “Junior, you hear me talking to you, man?”

  Twisties stood looking out of the window a moment longer before turnin
g around to his uncle, swirling the Cognac around in his glass. “I heard you, Unc, but there will be no police. I don’t do Five-Owe. When Ta’shauna comes outta that coma and gives up the cat that shot her and Orlando, I’ll handle it. She is my sister, I got this. Her shooter will answer to me.” His sipped the Cognac and his uncle nodded his head in approval.

  Twisties hadn’t spoken to his kid sister in eight years. They had a fallen out behind her then boyfriend, Orlando. Twisties knew Orlando from the streets. He was a conniving conman with the gift of gab. His game had broken many naïve women and sent them packing for the poor house. Twisties tried to warn his sister about the shyster, but she turned a deaf ear to him. When he made her pick between he and Orlando, she chose the ladder. Once Ta’shauna had chosen sides, she was as good as dead to him. He refused to attend any family functions she was at and he wouldn’t accept any of her phone calls. He didn’t even go to the hospital after she had Jaden. If it weren’t for his mother showing him baby pictures of her son, twisties wouldn’t even know who he resembled.

  “Alright.” Uncle Bruce slapped the applejack back on his head and rose from the couch. He then embraced his nephew. “Go by the hospital and see your baby sister.” Twisties nodded without a second thought. Uncle Bruce opened the door and looked back at him. “I’m serious. You need to put that beef behind you.Besides, you never know what may come of this. You don’t want that shit on your conscience, nephew.”

  “I will. I promise.” Faison swore, taking a sip of Cognac.

  Chapter 6

  Don Juan knocked on the frontdoor of one of many of his trap houses in a rhythmic code. He glanced back at Threat who was standing behind him, but turned back to the door once he heard shuffling around and the locks being undid. The door pulled open and standing before them was a Hershey brown skinned nigga with a Mohawk. His eyes shifted from Don Juan and Threat before stepping aside so they could enter.

  “What up, Don? What it do, Threat?” Jaquez greeted the twosome as they stepped through the door.

  “What’s cracking, Jaquez?” Threat threw his head back as he passed him.

  “Where’s Boxy?” Don Juan dapped him up.

  “He’s in the kitchen.” Jaquez nodded over his shoulder.

  Don Juan and Threat walked into the kitchen and found Boxy standing at the microwave cooking crack. Seeing the men in his peripherals, he turned around to them. He greeted Don Juan and slapped hands with him, and sized Threat up, looking him up and down with a scowl. Picking this up, Don Juan decided to make the introductions. “Threat, this is my nigga, Boxy. Boxy, I’m sure you knowThreat.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard of him.” Boxy said, unimpressed. He was familiar with the shorter man and how he gave it up in the streets. He’d heard many stories about him, but he wasn’t impressed. He may have been somebody in his day, but this was the era of the 90s baby and he’d have to show him something nowif he wanted his respect.

  “Check this out, crimey,” Don Juan began. “From now on I’ma have you rocking the spot on 79th and the homie’s gonna handle this one.” He tapped Threat.

  Angry, Boxy folded his arms across his chest.“Fuck you mean? You’re switching shit up to accommodate this mothafucka? Fuck that, I got seniority.” He jabbed himself in the chest with his finger.

  “Nigga, come outta your feelings,” Don Juan told him. “I need you over there. You know Hump and Woogie don’t be on their shit, fucking up the paper.”

  “Why don’t chu drop them two bumass niggaz then?”

  “Now, you know that’s wifey’s brother and cousin, they’re family. I just can’t cut ‘em off like that. You know you gotta take care of your own.Besides, if I put chu over there, I know them boys gon’do right ‘cause they know you don’t play. You can hold it down over there and make sure everything is everything, and Threat will make sure everything’s Gucci here.” Don Juan knew exactly what to say to the youngster to get him to go along with what he had planned.

  Boxy massaged his shaved chin as he thought on it for a moment. “Alright, if it’s for the good of the team, then I’m with it.” He slapped hands with Don Juan and snapped his fingers.

  “Show this nigga how to cook and how we run things around here.” Don Juan gripped his shoulder.

  Boxy opened up the microwave and motioned Threatover. Threat studied the husky man as he went about his business. Seeing that everything was good, Don Juan patted his new recruit on the back and headed for the door.

  ***

  Chevy stood beside the mailbox smoking a cigarette and impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for her mail to be delivered. It had been a few days since she’d written Tiaz and she couldn’t wait to get his letter to see what he had to say. Casually taking pulls from her square, she watched Te’Qui play football in the street with the neighborhood kids. The youngsters were playing pretty rough and she thought about making him come in the house, but she’d hate to be the one to damper all of the fun he was having. Not to mention, she couldn’t handle him with kid gloves, like she would with a little girl. He was a boy, so she had to take a differentapproach in raising him. After all, she didn’t want her baby boy growing up to be some soft ass nigga. She was trying to raise a man. The world could be a cruel, cold place andTe’Qui would have to be tough if he was going to stand a chance in it.

  Chevy looked as if she could barely control herself when she saw the mailman approaching. He was an older cat so he moved at a snail’s pace. She wanted so badly to run upon him and snatch his bag and rummage through it herself until she found her boo’s letter. When he made his stop at her house, the mailman went through his blue bag looking for the mail he had for Chevy. Once he came up with her mail for the day, he handed it over.

  “Here you go.” He forked over Chevy’s mail.

  “Thank you.” She then shuffled through the envelopes until she found the one she was looking for. Seeing the envelope with Tiaz’s name on it caused a smile to emerge acrossher face, but the smile turned into a smug look when she looked up and saw one of the kids pullingTe’Qui up to his feet after he’d been tackled to the grass on the sidewalk. “Te’Qui, I want chu in the house by seven for dinner!” She wanted him inside just then, but she reminded herself he was a boy.

  “Alright!” He yelled back as he continued playing the game with his friends.

  Chevy damn near skipped inside, holding the letter close to her heart. Once she was inside, she started a spaghetti sauce from scratch and then she poured herself a glass of Moscato and casually sipped it while she read over Tiaz’s letter.

  What’s up, Love?

  You looked so fine the last time you came to see meit took all I had to stop from jumping over that table and eating you up. You really had me going. I don’t have to tell you what I did once I got back to my cell *wink*. Anyway, as you already know I’ll be making my exit from this shithole in the next two weeks. That’s right! Your boy will be a free man. I’m looking forward to finally being out on the streets. I got a second chance at life and I’m not gonna fuck that up. I’m going to get myself a job, work real hard and hopefully save up enough dough to open up my own auto body shop. I know it’s not going to be an easy task transitioning from the streets and squaring up, but I’m going to give it a real shot.

  I know I can’t be surrounded by the same people, or be in the hood no more. I got to distance myself from negativity if I’m truly going to make a change for the better. I was hoping to crash at your place for a while until I can get back upon my feet. I hope I’m not doing too much. If you say no, don’t trip, we’re still good. Anyway, I’ll call once I think you’ve received this to get my answer. Just remember whether your answer is yes or no, it won’t change anything. I’ll talk to you soon.

  Love,

  Tiaz

  Chevy put the letter back into the envelope. She took a sip of her wine, then placed the glass on the table. She turned the fire from underneath the spaghetti noodles and dropped the meatballs into the sauce. She removed the garlic b
read from out of the oven and took the Caesar salad out of the refrigerator. She sat the Caesar salad on the table and made two plates, one for herself and the other for Te’Qui.

  “I was just about to come get you,” Chevy said to Te’Qui as he came through the door. He had pulled out his chair and was about to sit down until she protested. “I know your trifling behind is not about to sit down and eat with those filthy hands?”

  “Why not? They’re my hands and my food that I’ma ‘bout to eat with.”

  “Boy, go in there and wash your hands.” She smacked his butt with a dishtowel.

  “Ah, man.” He complained.

  “Ah, man.” She mocked him and laughed.

  When he came back from washing his hands, he and his mother sat at the kitchen table. She gave him the honor of saying grace.

  They held hands and he blessed the food.

  “Amen.” Mother and son said in unison.

  Te’Qui tore into his meal like a starved caveman. Chevy shook her head and smiled. “Slow down, boy. You’re going to end up choking.”

  Chevy ate half of her food and picked over the rest. She spent the remainder of the dinner sipping Moscato and watching Te’Qui eat his meal. He finished his food, drank some juice and then belched.

  “That was the bomb, momma.” He complimented his mother.

  “Thank you, son,” She put a cigarette in between her thick lips and lit it.

  Smoking a square was something she did after dinner and sex. She knew it was a nasty habit but she just couldn’t shake it. She expelled smoke and fanned it away with her hand.

  “Te’Qui, how do you feel about momma having a friend to come stay with us for a while?”

  “You mean, AuntieKantrell?”

  “Not exactly, one of my other friends.”

  “Who?”

  Chevy cleared her throat as she tapped the end of her cigarette, dropping ashes onto her dinner plate. “You, um, you, uh, don’t know him, baby. He’s momma’s new friend.”