Forbidden Love With a Thug III (13 page)

I ashed the blunt, and then Kill popped some gum into his mouth before passing me the box to get a piece for myself. Once I handed it back to him, he shoved it into his pocket and we got out of my car. Nearing Axel's house, we both gave each other a knowing look before approaching the gate to be buzzed in. After we got through, we jogged up his walkway, rang the doorbell, and then strolled inside once his housekeeper greeted us.

“Follow me,” she smiled and began switching towards the back of the house.

When we walked into the den, Axel was sitting there hooked up to some machine. It looked like an IV, but I wasn't too sure. He was in his usual business casual attire, it's just his sleeved was rolled up, and some tubes were going into his arm, which was much skinnier than before. Upon entering, he looked to us and gave a huge grin.

“Welcome, boys. I would get up, but I'm not the strongest right now,” he cleared his throat. “Have a seat, anywhere. Catharine, please bring the three of us some scotch.”

“But Mr. Johnson, the doctor said it's not good for you to have any scotch. I can bring you some tea, how is that?”

“That's good.” He nodded and then half smiled at us. I could tell he was embarrassed, but there was really no need to be; he was sick. It reminded me of my uncle. Because he was sick, he felt like his illness negated all of his accomplishments as a man.

“Okay, I will be back with some scotch, and then some tea for you, Mr. Johnson.”

“Can I have some water, too,please?” I chimed in and she nodded with a smile.

“To what do I owe this pleasure Kill? Eli?” Axel looked at us as we took seats on his huge leather couch.

“Well, Axel, I wanted to ask you something, but I want you to remember that this is just a question and nothing more,” Kill explained and Axel nodded, giving him permission to continue. “I'm not sure if you know, but I was shot a little while ago, while sitting in a restaurant eating. It was around one in the afternoon, and in a pretty busy area.”

“What the fuck? What psycho muthafucka would do that?” he furrowed his brows.

“It was Leroy.”

“Leroy? Why? Because you fired him? Why the fuck did he take so long to do something about it?” Axel frowned.

“That's the thing, I'm not sure. See I know my fiancée’s brother and her best friend's brother don't really fuck with me, but something tells me they weren't behind this. Well, something tells me that someone they're working with was behind it.”

“Really? Who did you have in mind, Kill?”

“Your sons,” I answered for him since Kill was a bit hesitant.

“My sons?” Axel chuckled as if he were waiting for us to say we were kidding. “Dante and Ahmad? That's actually hilarious. My sons couldn't pull a trigger if you paid them. So one, they would never be bold enough to shoot in broad daylight, because they're not well trained with firearms. And two, everyone knows my sons because of me, so they'd be too easy to identify.”

“I already said Leroy shot me, so I know it wasn’t them, Axel. I’m thinking they got in his head and had him do it.”

“No.” Axel shook his head repeatedly.

“So there was no way you think they could've asked Leroy to get at me? You don’t think that because I declined to give Dante and Ahmad a job, they may have linked up with him?” Kill inquired.

“I mean, where is this coming from? Why out of all the people in Delaware, do you choose my kids?”

“They inquired about working for me, Axel, and I turned them down. I didn't have anything for them except block work, and you and I both know they are pretty green when it comes to the business. I fired Leroy because he was insubordinate. I feel it in my gut that he linked up with someone who convinced him to come after me, us,” Kill replied.

“So you think they're
that
angry about not being down with you?” Kill and I nodded. “Well, can you blame them? You let your little brother get down and he's just about as green as them, maybe even more.”

“Kantwan is naturally street smart, Axel,” Kill said.

“Exactly, most of this shit is common sense, and despite its name, most people don't have it. Kantwan does and he knows a hell of a lot more than your sons honestly. That was even before we showed him anything,” I backed Kill up.

“Well—” Catharine walked in with our beverages, and Axel waited until she left before continuing. “I understand your concerns, gentlemen, but my sons are not the vengeful nor jealous type. They may have been a little bothered by your declining of their application to work, but they're smart enough to know not to go against someone of your caliber.”

“I hope so.” Kill stared into Axel's eyes as he sipped his drink.

We changed the subject and talked for a little longer about random shit. Axel updated us on his condition, explaining that he had really good doctors who were keeping him alive, but he was very weak. It was crazy to see the man that the streets once feared become so meek and feeble. It just made me want to live life to the fullest.

After leaving Axel's, we met up at Ka'Shea's to talk about what had just happened. I wasn't too sure if I was convinced that Dante and Ahmad weren't coming for us, and I wanted to still keep an eye on them niggas.

“Fuck he say?” Kantwan asked as he sparked a blunt.

My little cousin had been on edge lately, and Kill said it was because he felt he emasculated him in a way. Ever since we were kids, Kantwan hated for Kill to help him with something. I remember when Kill and I were like seven years old, and Kantwan wasn't quite six yet, we were swimming at one of my aunt Laurie's friend's houses, and when Kill tried to help Kantwan he didn't want it. That nigga almost drowned like a muthafucka, and my uncle had to jump in fully clothed to save his stubborn ass. I guess that incident did nothing to change him. I laughed at my thoughts.

“He claims he doesn't think his sons would go that far, because they're not the jealous type,” I replied.

“Shit, money and status change people. I bet you them niggas mouths were watering thinking they'd inherit that empire, and now that they haven't, they're mad.” Ka'Shea took the blunt from Kantwan.

“But damn, I'm wondering if we have two sets of enemies, or if Portland, Sonny, Dante, and Ahmad are all a fucking team.” Kill stared down at his feet thinking.

“How the hell would they know one another though?” Ka'Shea frowned.

“I'm gonna get someone on them, and see if we catch them doing anything. Shea, get Sass up out of the trap and have him trail one of them niggas and find out if they're doing anything.”

“Got it.”

One week later…

I was leaving the jewelry store because I’d bought this bracelet for Raleigh. I wanted to get her something other than the watch she’d gotten, and I felt this was perfect, just like her. I laughed as I thought about how Mercedes tried to fuck all my shit up, but it didn’t work. That hoe knew she wasn’t pregnant, and if she was, it was about one hundred niggas who could be the dad.

Speaking of Mercedes, that scrape had been blowing me up as of late, and I had to let her ass know she was getting blocked. She knew full well that she and I were never gonna be anything, even before I went to jail. I stayed smashing other hoes, but I guess that’s what I get for allowing her to tell people she was my girlfriend. I really didn’t care at the time because it was just a title, and it didn’t stop me from doing what the fuck I wanted to do.

WEE-ER! WEE-ER!

“Fuck!” I shouted as I looked in my rearview mirror at the police trailing me. I pulled over to the side, and then reached into my glove compartment for my proof of insurance and registration. “This is some bullshit.”

“License, proof of insurance, and registration please.” The officer approached my window.

“Sure.” I handed it over. “May I ask why you pulled me over, officer?”

He ignored me and walked away with my documents. Exhaling heavily, I laid my head back on the headrest, and waited until he was done. Finally after an eternity, he walked back over and handed me my shit back.

“I need to search the car, Mr. Camren, please step out of the vehicle.”

“Search the car for what, man? You ain’t even told me why you pulled me over!”

“We heard you might be carrying illegal substances and firearms in the car, and we need to check it. Exit the vehicle please, before I am forced to take further action,” he stated sternly and stepped back to allow me to open the door.

I clenched my teeth and then got out of my car like he’d asked. His partner lightly pushed me into the car, and began patting me down as the initial officer searched my whip, including the trunk.

“Aye, what the fuck you doing?” I yelled as the partner placed handcuffs on my wrist. He said nothing, and then pushed me down to sit on the curb, so he could help the other officer search my vehicle.

Fifteen minutes later they came up empty, and then removed the cuffs from my wrists. I rubbed my shits since they were in pain, and then got into my car to get ready to leave the area.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Camren, you have a good day.” The initial officer tapped the top of my Porsche after handing me my documents back.

I just rolled my window up on his ass and pulled off. At first I planned to head home to see Raleigh and give her this expensive ass gift, but I needed to make a quick pit stop in between. Once I got to where I was going, I opened the passenger seat of my car and removed my handgun. Locking it into my waist, I exited the vehicle.

“What’s good!” Blow hollered from his porch, before stuffing a sunflower seed in his mouth.

“What’s up? She in there?” I pointed at Mercedes home, whom he lived across the street from. He nodded in response, and then shook his head at me. “Ain’t even like that. Aye lookout for me, aight?” I said and he nodded again.

Rushing up the porch steps, I beat on that bitch’s door like I planned to break it down. She finally answered wearing a scowl on her pretty face. When she saw it was me, her expression softened, and she stepped back to let me in.

“Finally, you come see me, asshole!” she shouted and hugged me from behind. “I missed you, Shea, I love you,” she whined.

“Get off me, ma,” I replied dryly while prying her small hands from my six-pack. “Come take a ride with me, shorty.”

“I hope you’re taking me shopping, Shea, you haven’t bought me shit in a cool ass minute,” she giggled and grabbed her big ass purse from the couch.

I ignored her and then opened the front door. I made eye contact with Blow, and he nodded to me to say it was cool. Mercedes and I walked to my car, and once she got in, I went around to my side. Peeling off from the curb, I turned up my music loudly. Mercedes swayed to the Kevin Gates song as she rapped along with her sexy ass. I hated her, but I loved looking at her.

“Where the fuck are we?” she frowned when I pulled into the warehouse, underground.

“I have a surprise for you, come on.” I exited the car, and so did she. Once we got to the room I was looking for, I closed the door behind her.

“I swear if you propose right now, I’m gonna slap the shit out of you, Shea. I need something way more romantic than this. And my family needs to be here.”

“Mercedes, I know what you did.”

“Huh? You better not be talking about me approaching that hoe of yours. You damn right I came at that bitch! I thought about leaving your ass, but I didn’t! Leaving me for months to shack up with that girl, there aren’t too many more times that—”

“Nah, bitch you set me up. You set me up when I went to jail some years back, and you gave a tip to the police today.” She opened and closed her mouth, confirming everything I’d just said. “Yeah, I didn’t wanna believe you set me up the first time, but I realized it was you after the fucking cops searched my shit today. It was like an epiphany.”

My brothers and cousin swore up and down that Mercedes had set me up, but I refused to believe it. Even when I got out, I just couldn’t see her doing me like that. But today, as I sat on that curb cuffed, it all hit me. A couple days before I got sent to jail, Mercedes found out that I’d slept with a couple other girls and was heated. She got mad at me about it, but was even madder because I didn’t give a fuck. Just like last time, she was mad about Raleigh and me, so she tried to do the same thing. Lucky for me, and unfortunately for her, I was smarter this time and didn’t drive shit around in my whip. Only thing I kept was a gun, but that was stored in a place they’d never find. Also, I was in a much higher position that rarely called for me to touch or transport product.

“Okay, Shea, look. I promise I will never do no shit like that again, babe. But what do you expect from me when I hear from everyone that you’re out here cheating on me!”

“Cheating on you? Cheating on you, Mercedes? When have I ever been just about you? From day one I’ve been fucking other bitches! I never told you it was just me and you. You took it upon your fucking self to assume the position as my girlfriend. And regardless of whether you and I were exclusive or not, I now know that you’re a grimy ass bitch.”

“Shea—”

POP!

I cringed as I saw the bullet pierce her smooth forehead. She fell backwards, with her eyes wide open. I hated to do that to her, because she was cool or so I thought. I enjoyed fucking the bitch and she could actually hold a conversation. I never understood why I couldn’t make her my girl like that, but now I realize it was because I knew she was a shade monster.

I called clean up, and after clearing her hoe ass out, I finally took Raleigh her gift. Now that Mercedes was gone, shit could really get popping!

Chapter
Eight: Jersey

My body was back to normal, but since I wasn't stripping anymore, I decided to take up working out. I almost chose to do a pole dancing class, but I felt that was too much like what I'd already done half of my life it seemed. Stripping was my past, and so the fuck were poles. To assist me and keep me on track, I hired a trainer. Because I had Alexsia, I knew it would be easy for me to blow off the gym because I was too tired. I had a lot on my plate from school, being a mom, and basically a wife, so the gym could easily get pushed to the side. I needed someone to stay on me.

My trainer's name was Harold, a black guy in his early thirties. I met him in my English class, and since he was a professional I agreed to let him train me. He offered me a discount, too. He was nice looking, but not really my type I guess. He was way too buff for my liking, and he was about 5'11, which was too short for me. I know I'm only 5'5, but I liked my men to be six feet or higher, like Kill, who stood at a nice 6'3. And Kill had muscles, but it was proportioned and lean. In addition to Harold’s height problem, chocolate was my preference, and Harold was caramel.

We'd just finished running around the track eight damn times, and boy was I tired. That was what I liked about Harold though, he always came up with new ways for us to work out, because I told him I became bored easily. He knew keeping me on the same routine would not be good in any way, shape, or form.

“Nice job,” he smiled as we leaned against the fence on the track.

“Thanks,” I panted as I downed some of my Gatorade. I had two big cases at home; I was dedicated.

“We've only been working together for a few weeks, Jersey, and I can already see a difference. Your body was perfect before, but now it's even more perfect,” he grinned as we walked around the fence to sit down.

“Shut up!” I chuckled and hit his arm.

“Let me stop complimenting you before you terminate my services, Lord knows I don't like to lose money.”

“No way, I like working out actually. I didn't think I would, but I guess since I miss being active, I'm enjoying it.”

“What made you want to get into the gym? Because like I said, you looked perfectly fine when we started.”

“I told you I had a baby,” I laughed.

“Shit, you sure did. It's hard to believe from looking at you. How old is he or she?”

“She's only five months, but I want to keep my body together, you know? I want to entice my man to keep making these babies,” I half joked and we both chuckled.

“So, you're with the father of your child?”

“Yes, thank God. I was blessed, because I know plenty of girls who have babies by niggas they wish they hadn't had them by.” I shook my head as I thought about Portland and Ivy.

“Ain't that right. Like my damn mama, it's eight of us, and my dad never shaped the fuck up. He was the worst nigga all the way up until he died. My mom did a great job, but I'm sure she wishes sometimes that she'd gotten pregnant by someone else.”

“I would hate to feel that way. I'm happy I don't though. I wouldn't want to have a baby with anyone else.” I smiled at the thought of Kill.

“Please tell me that's an engagement ring on your finger, and not some promise ring.”

“It is an engagement ring, asshole,” I chuckled.

“Good, that shit is huge though. That nigga must really love you or some shit. What's his name if you don't mind me asking, Jersey?”

“Kil-Kilexis,” I stammered a bit. Kill advised me to stop telling people I was with someone named Kill, and to use his full name. I wasn't sure why, but I just decided to comply.

“Kill?” He bucked his eyes.

“No, I said Kilexis.”

“Oh, aight, I was about to say, we can cancel this contract we got right now, shorty,” he snickered.

“Why?”

“You've never heard of Kill?”

“No,” I lied, anxious to know if he felt the same way Portland did. Kill was the type who only killed for good reasoning, I just couldn't see him stabbing someone at a school, or threatening to kill his own fiancée’s brother.

“He's a big time distributor for Delaware, ma, and he's crazy as fuck. He can have you tracked down and killed just by snapping his fingers, and at any time of the day. The worst part is that he's smart though. Usually niggas in his position are idiots, but not him. Every move is calculated and that's why when niggas come up dead on his watch, ain't shit people can do about it. For one, no one ever sees shit, and if they do, they're too scared to run their mouths.”

“The police can protect them.”

“Yeah, certain ones, but what about the niggas he has on payroll.” He sipped his Gatorade.

“Kill has police on payroll?”

“You damn right. So like I said, if that was your nigga, I'd have to let you go, ma.”

I just chuckled lightly and fake smiled. The Kill he was talking about was not the Kill I knew. This Kill was a murderous, vicious, ruthless, kingpin, but my Kill was kind, thoughtful, and a hero.

I stood up and squinted my eyes at the sun before beginning to stretch. Between Harold and Portland, they were gonna have me scared to sleep next to my own damn man. As I was stretching, I looked back to see Harold checking my body out with a lustful stare. The bulge rising in his basketball shorts let me know he was enjoying everything he saw.

“Should we go run some more?”

“Who? Oh yeah, umm, let's go.” He shot up and tried to low key adjust himself, before running off. I followed behind him with all kinds of thoughts floating through my mind. Was this why they called him Kill?

Chapter
Eight: Kantwan

I was sitting in my den, pondering over the shit my brother and cousin brought to me. They were still skeptical about Ahmad and Dante, but I wasn't. Them niggas were up to something, and while Kill, Elijah, and Ka'Shea sat on their asses wondering, I was gonna take care of the shit. I knew I was supposed to follow my brother's lead, but sometimes he needed to follow mine.

I ashed my blunt, and then leaned back on the couch. Picking up my game controller, I began to play my video games. I wanted to clear my mind a little bit, because I'd been losing a little bit of sleep over this shit. As I was getting into it, Cheyla walked in wearing shorts and a little ass top with no straps. Her stomach was protruding way more now, but she didn't look bad at all in what she had on. In fact, my dick got hard immediately upon seeing her. My shorty was so sexy to me.