A Gangsta's Son (6 page)

~Chapter 21~

“I miss you already, Pops,” I said, standing beside the casket with my brother. “Guess I’ll see you again one day. I know I will. And I hope shit get a lil better after this life.”

“Straight up,” Scrilla Man said. “Ain’t never gon’ be another nigga like you. Wish I wouldn’t have stayed out of town so much. I was s’posed to be there to burn that nigga who shot you.”

Shaking my head despondently, I leaned closer to my father’s misshapen face and whispered, “It was my ID, Pops. I dropped my ID in that bedroom, and that girl picked it up when we left.”

Scrilla Man gave me a questioning look, so I stepped aside and explained how the robbery had transpired, while a steady line of old-school gangsters, pimps, young thugs, and family members stepped up and paid their last respects to Pops.

“Man,” Scrilla said when I was done telling him about the robbery. He lifted his eyes to a statue of Jesus hanging from a cross. “I hate to say it, but we can’t let ol’ girl get away wit’ this. If she brought a nigga to rob you once, she’ll do it again. Guarantee it.”

“I already know, bruh.” I glanced over at Jessica, a thickly-built red-bone who was sauntering toward us in a snug-fitting white dress. She was an eighteen year old hood chick of
f 16
th
and Spaulding, brought to the funeral by her father, Big Cory, who had been tight with Pops for decades.

“Where you gon’ be after the funeral?” She asked me.

“At the cemetery.” I checked my phone for the time. “Why?”

“Cause Sicko
Mob got a video shoot on Christiana tonight.”

“I ain’t gon’ miss it,” I
said.

“Can you pick me up from my auntie crib on Lawndale at seven? I gotta babysit my nephews till six-thirty, and I don’t wanna walk all the way down there wit’ all the shootin’ that’s been goin’ on.”

“I gotchoo. Just call and remind me at around—”

My words ceased at the sight of Manny, Mone’
s cousin. He was walking up to the casket in a fresh gray suit that matched the graying braids on his coal-black scalp. He had tears sliding down his face.

“First Mone, now you,” Manny said, sniffling.

He didn’t get another word out. I turned and broke his jaw with a vicious right hay-maker and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious and bleeding from the mouth. I managed to stomp his face twice and snatch the Glock from my waist before Scrilla Man wrapped his powerful arms around me, lifted me into the air, and carried me a good ten feet away. Quickly regaining my composure, I ripped loose and put the gun back on my hip.

“That nigga snitched on Pops!” I was furious… until I noticed that several of my aunts, uncles, and cousins were scurrying out of the church with their children, while the Gangsters gazed down at Manny’s sleeping body with amusement etched on their black faces.

Rose kicked the side of Manny’s head and spit on his forehead as we were leaving. We decided against attending the burial. Instead, I hopped in Kisha’s SUV, hardly noticing Jessica’s presence as she slid into the passenger’s seat beside me. I sped off ahead of Scrilla’s Escalade.

“Why did you knock that man out like that?” Jessica asked. She sighed and studied the AK-47 that was lying between our seats. “You’re crazy, you now that? All of you niggas off fifteenth—y’all get money, but y’all get crazy, too. I was right around the corner on Trumbull when y’all got to shootin’ earlier. Lil Will’s momma said he might not pull through.
” She sucked her teeth indignantly and mumbled, “I bet it was them Breeds off thirteenth and Christiana.”

I lit a cigarette and was silent for a moment as I drove down Douglas Boulevard. My eyes flicked to and fro, searching for the white Lincoln I’d shot at earlier. I spotted numerous cars full of TVLs driving around aimlessly and I knew that they, too, were searching for the Lincoln.

“Where you wanna get dropped off at?” I said finally.

“I’ll walk from Kisha’s house.” Jessica was twirling a lock of her long black hair around the tip of a perfectly-manicured and polished forefinger. She was a certified dime piece, short and pretty with
a body like K. Michelle’s. “Or y’all can come kick it wit’ me and my bitches,” she added, blowing a big pink bubble with the gum she was chewing.

I decided the latter suggestion was more reasonable.

~Chapter 22~

“Lay down and take a nap, Kisha. You are way too fucked up,” Tyrone said as he laid Kisha on her bed and covered her with a blanket. He and Joe-Joe had just carried her from the bathroom after watching her vomit out everything she’d eaten.

Kisha turned over to face Tyrone as Joe-Joe was leaving the bedroom. She laughed abruptly when the door clicked shut.

“Ain’t shit funny,” Tyrone said, taking a seat next to her. He checked his phone to see
if his girlfriend had called yet.

She hadn’t.

“Nothin’ ass bitch,” Tyrone hissed, setting the phone aside. He leaned forward and adjusted the sling on his arm, wondering where the two gunshots they’d heard a few minutes ago had come from.

The feeling of Kisha’s hand caressing his lower back pulled him away from his thoughts.

“Stop touchin’ me, Kisha.”

“Boy, do I look like I’m touchin’ you?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“I am, too,” Kisha said, still rubbing his back.

Just then his phone rang. It was Mikey.

He knocked Kisha’s hand away and stood up to answer the call
. She smiled, eyeing the bulging front of his pants.

“Man, I done whooped a nigga at the funeral,” Mikey said. “We ain’t goin’ to the burial. I’m over Sandy crib now. ‘Bout to fuck lil thick-ass Jessica then slide over there to pick y’all up. Shit, nigga, you see all them police cars in the alley? I think somebody got whacked back there.”

“Nah, I ain’t even looked.” Tyrone was grinding his teeth together, and his nostrils were flaring.

“Just sit tight, lil bruh. I got a few more blessin’s for you. Finna buss lil momma down first. On King James I got you, though.”

“Yup,” was Tyrone’s brief reply.

He ended the call and leaned forward against the side of the bed. Kisha reached out and touched the hard pole that was hidden in his jeans. This time she received no resistance. Tyrone stared down at her hand as she squeezed and tugged on his erection, and he didn’t say a word when she unbuckled his Louis Vuitton belt, pulled his dick out, and started jerking it back and forth.

“Lock the door and lay down right here,” Kisha said, scooting over and slapping the center of the bed.

Tyrone did as he was told. Seconds later, he was lying in bed with his pants and boxers pushed down around his knees. Kisha licked and sucked his dick for a nice long while, and he didn’t feel bad at all.

Because Tyrone’s girlfriend was Jessica, though Mikey didn’t know it.

~Chapter 23~

“Where da money you owe us at?” Treys asked, turning to Cresha with the revolver in hand.

She pointed at a box of Kleenex tissues on the dashboard.
“It’s in there, under the tissue. Four racks, all hundreds.” She sucked her teeth and added, “I shouldn’t have to pay you niggas nothin’. It ain’t like y’all killed who I sent y’all to kill. Nah, you blind mothafuckas went and shot everybody
but
him.”

“You paid us to ride down on the niggas that killed James. We did that,” Trey
s retorted.

Two-One stuck his head in between the front seats to watch Treys count the money, and Cresha’s
eyes returned to the road ahead. She had stopped in another alley just long enough for the young thugs to stash their assault rifles in the trunk. Now she was cruising down Roosevelt Road with the tinted windows up and the AC blasting. She put on a shocked expression every time a CPD vehicle sped by.

Her mind was on her money.
After selling her brother’s SUV and the few ounces of coke he’d left in her attic, Cresha had ended up with a little over $8,500; now she was down to $4,500, and she wasn’t happy about it. In fact, she was so
unhappy
about it that she started crying.

“Maaaan,” Treys said, counting the money again, “don’t start wit’ that shit on us. We really wanted to get at them niggas for killin’ Mone, and we aired out that Monte Carlo, too. We gave ‘em the
b’ness
. Fuck is you cryin’ about? You can stop that bull—”

SKEEEERK!

The Bentley’s tires screamed as Cresha busted a sudden U-turn in the middle of traffic, nearly crashing her rear bumper against the front end of an F-150 pick-up truck.

Two-One leaned forward and pressed the barrel of his 30-round Ruger pistol against her cheek. “Bitch, what the fuck you on?!
Get us back to Englewood ASAP!”

“Chill out, bruh,” Treys said, grabbing Two-One’s wrist and forcing him to lower the weapon. “We’ll go back. But on David, if somethin’ happens to us, my lil shooters gon’ tear yo’ whole family up.”

Wiping away her tears, Cresha stepped on the gas.

~Chapter 24~

The wet sounds Jessica’s pussy made at my every thrust was like music to my ears. Kneeling behind her on an air mattress in her aunt, Sandy’s, daughter’s bedroom, I was gripping her hips and pounding in and out of her while she worked her mouth up and down my brother’s dick.

On the side of the mattress, Rose was fucking Makayla, a cute brown-skin girl. A few blunts of Kush was all it had taken to get them to buss down, and I wanted to enjoy every minute of it. After all that had happened in the past week, it felt good to be dicking down a thick bad bitch. I wanted the feeling to last forever.

I took off the condom, traded places with Scrilla, and palmed the back of Jessica’s head until I filled her mouth with semen.

That is when the banging started.

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

It sounded like someone was trying to punch through the front door.

“Who the fuck is that?” Rose asked.

I dressed hurriedly and stepped out into the dingy living room; Scrilla and Rose were seconds behind me, fastening their jeans and belts.

Jessica’s other friend—a pregnant chubby girl named Stacy—was peeking out the window with a shocked expression on her plump black face.

The banging continued.

“Who out there?” I asked.

“Makayla’s boyfriend,” Stacy answered. “That nigga Ton from off Trumbull. He gon’ whoop Makayla’s ass for bein’ in here with y’all.”

Jessica and Makayla came out of the bedroom wrapped in bed sheets. Makayla looked scared.

“Y’all go out the back door,” she said.

“What?!” I said, walking to the front door. “This soft ass nigga ain’t gon’ do nothin’.”

I opened the door and stared Ton down. He was taller than I and about a hundred pounds heavier.

“Makayla, getcho ass out here!” Ton snapped as he attempted to push me aside.

Wrong move.

I hit him with five sharp jabs, and before he could turn to defend himself, Scrilla Man and Rose were flooding his face with punches.

We knocked him to the floor and stomped him to sleep. Makayla tried intervening and caught an accidental elbow to the jaw from Rose. Scrilla Man picked up a closed baby stroller that was leaning against the wall and started beating Ton’s head with it.

Then Scrilla Man and Rose finished getting dressed and we left.

~Chapter 25~

“Mmm, shit, I’m finna cum,” Tyrone said, holding on to Kisha’s waist with his one good hand as she rode him reverse cowgirl style.

She tightened her vaginal muscles around his bare dick and slowed down a bit, squeezing the cum out of him until his twitching pole dropped from inside her and collapsed onto his abdomen.

She moved forward on her hands and knees so that her glistening wet pussy was directly over his deflating manhood. She pushed his semen out, and it dripped down onto the shaft of his dick.

“Damn,” was all he could say as Kisha turned around and sucked the cum into her mouth.

“You like that shit, don’t you?” She asked, swallowing his seed.

Tyrone responded with a short, breathless laugh. He watched her pull the tight black dress down and search around for her panties, while he yanked up his boxers and pants. When they opened the bedroom door, Shay and Joe-Joe were standing there in the hallway with knowing smirks on their faces.

“Fuck is y’all smilin’ about?” Tyrone snapped.

Shay crosse
d her arms over her small chest and slowly nodded her head. “Mmmm hmmm. We saw it all through the keyhole.”

“Y’all ain’t seen shit.” Tyrone stepped around them and was just about to go in the bathroom to clean himself up when suddenly the front door swung open.

~Chapter 26~

I looked at Tyrone and smiled as I walked through the door.

“Just drove past the alley,” I said. “They pullin’ a body out that white Lincoln. Police everywhere.”

“Shit,” said Joe-Joe, “you already knew dat was gon’ happen. Them weak ass Breeds ain’t got shit on us. Lucky it wasn’t
me
that caught up wit’ em. On God, Joe, I would’ve—”

Joe-Joe went silent as I squinted at Kisha, Tyrone, and Shay; the three of them were following Joe-Joe into the living room, and they all seemed tense and unusually quiet.

“What’s wrong?” I asked no one in particular.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong,” Shay said.

But I still felt an odd tension in the air as I joined Rose and Scrilla Man on the new sofa. I shook it off and pulled Kisha down onto my lap, then started telling Tyrone how we had just stomped Ton’s lights out. Kisha got up and headed toward the bathroom before I could finish explaining the situation.

“Where the hell you goin’?” I shouted.

“To brush my teeth,” Kisha replied. “I threw up a few minutes ago. You don’t want me kissin’ you wit’ throw up all on my tongue, do you?”

‘Drunk-ass light-weight,’
I thought, turning back to Tyrone.

“I’m takin’ you car shoppin’ tomorrow,” I said, lighting a cigarette. “Find you a nice ol’ school ‘Lac or Chevy. I got some dope and some Kush for you, too. A whole brick and a pound.”

“Damn, for real?” Tyrone rubbed his hands together.

“Lil nigga, I owe you more than that,” I said, picking up Kisha’s ringing phone from the coffee table.

Somebody named Lacresha was calling.

I answered the call.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?” I repeated.

“Is, um…is Kisha there?” A girl asked.

“Yeah. Hold on a minute.”

Kisha returned a moment later and I handed her the phone. I massaged her soft thighs and hoped she would not catch the lingering scent of Jessica’s perfume as she lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Bitch. Where you at? Bitch, I done got
wasted
waitin’ on yo’ ass to show up…”

I moved from beneath Kisha and stood up, mostly because I didn’t want to argue with her if her nose got nosey like it sometimes did, but also because I wanted to give Tyrone the paper bag I had ready for him in the bedroom.

To Kisha, I muttered, “You startin’ to drink too muhfuckin much… and stop thinkin’ you got so many friends.”

She sucked her teeth and twisted her face at me. I continued up the hallway ahead of Tyrone, adjusting the bulging pistol on my hip and checking my phone. My mother and sister were blowing me up with texts and calls, and so were a dozen other family members. I wasn’t about to reply to any of them; at least not now, when my father’s body was lying in a freshly dug grave. Not while four of my mob brothers were stretched out in hospital beds with bodies full of bullet holes.

I put the phone back on my hip as we entered the bedroom.

The strong smell of sex struck me immediately.

I looked up at Tyrone and grinned as I squatted and grabbed the large paper bag from under the bed.

“You fucked Shay, didn’t you?” I asked.

He grinned with me. “And you fucked Jessica, didn’t you? We even.” He accepted the bag, opened it, and peered inside. His grin blossomed into a full-blown smile. “Shit, that’s thirty-six zips? A whole brick?
And
a pound of
Kush
?” He was in shock.

“You don’t owe me a dime, either. Just come back and shop wit’ me. I should be on again within the next few days.”

“We’ll get rich together, then. I’m wit’ it.”

“Well, that’s what it is,” I said, demonstrating the TVL handshake with him. “Get money to the death of us.”

“On King James,” he replied.

The next thing I knew, Shay was screaming at the top of her lungs.