Honor Thy Thug (3 page)

Immediately, guilt set in. “Shit,” I spat. Now I was feeling like I was caught cheating, which urged me to take the call. “Nina, baby. I’m in the middle of something. Can I call you back? Is everybody okay?”

Silence lingered on the other end. Then she finally asked, “Is everything okay with you?” She was sounding as if she sensed that I was up to something.

“Everything’s fine. Let me call you later.” I hung up before she could say anything. I didn’t want this moment to be ruined. I wanted her all to myself. I rushed back to the front porch and got Kyra’s things. She had two suitcases, a purse, and a shoulder bag. I popped the trunk, tossed everything inside, slammed it shut, and jumped into the front seat. Cranking the engine, I took a deep breath and then turned to take another look at Kyra. My mind and my eyes were at odds with each other. There she lay, just as beautiful as she was the last time that I saw her. Then the loud voice inside me yelled “
She’s alive!
” I couldn’t believe this was happening. The woman I fell in love with, the woman I thought was dead and buried by her dope-fiend-ass husband, but here she was alive and in the flesh. My mouth filled with saliva, and my hands began to sweat. I turned and gripped the steering wheel as I pulled off, heading for the hotel where I was staying.

I was dreaming that I was riding in a car. However, when I opened my eyes, I actually was.
How did I get here?
The last thing I remembered was looking for Tasha Macklin and then standing on the porch in front of Rick. I had recognized him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and then everything went black. But now my head was pounding. It was hurting so bad that I kept swallowing to keep from throwing up. “My head,” I moaned out loud, closing and squeezing my eyelids together as if that would stop the pain.

As soon as I did, the car stopped and jerked forward, damn near throwing me off the backseat. I sat up in a panic. The next thing I knew, the back door opened, and this beautiful specimen of a man leaned in and asked if I was all right, and should he take me to the hospital. I looked at him and felt my face frown up.

“Relax, it’s me, Rick,” he said.

I studied his face. “I know who you are. But is it really you? If it is then I’m Kyra. We dated.”

“Yeah, it’s me, and yes, you are Kyra and we didn’t just date we were in love.” He hugged me gently, as if I was too fragile for a real embrace. “I’ma get you to a hospital real—”

“No! Please, no more hospitals!” I grabbed his arm tight, causing him to pause. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in the hospital? I was in a coma for months and then in rehab for more months, and I couldn’t and still can’t remember who I was or how I got there. So please no more hospitals.”

“Okay, okay. Relax. Do you realize that you fainted back there?”

“I just need something for my head. It’s pounding from the fatigue and all of this excitement.” Just as quickly as he was in the backseat asking if I was all right, he was back up in the front seat and pulling off. I had to lie back down.

We drove for a few minutes before the car stopped again. I pressed a hand on each side of my head as if that would make the pain go away. Rick jumped out, and after several minutes, he came back with some milk, cookies, and a bottle of Tylenol for migraines. He helped me sit up.

“You can’t take these on an empty stomach.” He opened the cookies and gave me two of them. I gobbled them down. He opened the carton of milk and held it to my mouth as if I was
a baby. He then opened the pill bottle and shook two out into my hand. I swallowed them and drank some more milk, and then Rick motioned for me to lie back down. I did, because I badly wanted the headache to go away. It hurt to even think. I wondered if the headache was from me fainting or from the excitement of being possibly reunited with my family. “I’m taking you to a place where you can relax.” He left me alone and got back into the front seat.

The car started moving again, and my thoughts were moving even faster. I was remembering people, places, and things. Now my chest was tightening up, making it hard for me to breathe. Visions and parts of my memory came flooding back. The doctors told me that if I saw something or somebody familiar, it would trigger certain events.
My baby!
I popped up. My baby daughter, Aisha Aaliyah. My heart raced.
Where is she?
I began rubbing my temples.
Rick
. I remembered creeping around ‘with him while I was still loving . . .
Marvin
. And Marvin?
Where is Marvin?
I was now gasping for air. More flashes of events and faces began to crowd my head. There was a gun pressed up against my temple.
Mook
. I could still feel the cold steel against my face and the smell of alcohol on his breath. I remember screaming at Marvin to give that nigga the money and to stop haggling with him. Then Marvin shot Junie and yelled for me to put the car in reverse. I did, slamming on the gas and crashing into the car behind me. That was when Fish jumped out, shot Mook, and then shot me. The events came to me crystal-clear. It was night time and my daughter was in the back seat. I was petrified.

“If you want your wife, I suggest you give me my muthafuckin’ dough right now,” Mook said.

“Mook, get that fuckin’ burner away from my wife,” Marvin warned him.

“I’m telling you, Blue, he’s going to split her wig. Just give me my dough. You owe me, remember?” Junie spat.

“I don’t owe you shit, nigga! That was years ago. And here you are pressin’ me about some fuckin’ chump change? Why you pressin’ me about that shit?” Marvin asked his cousin Junie.

“Stop haggling, Marvin. Just give the nigga the money,” I blurted out, and slid him his burner.

“Listen to your wife,” Junie said.

“Babygirl, these pussies ain’t going to shoot nobody, not like I will.”
Pow!
Marvin shot Junie in the stomach.

“See. That’s how you do that. I didn’t even have to get out,” Marvin bragged. “Put the car in reverse, babygirl, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

As soon as he said that, Fish jumped out of the ride behind us and started waving at us.

“Hold up, babygirl.” Marvin told me. He then hopped out.

Fish snatched the gun out of Mook’s hand and put a bullet in his head. I remember the
BOOM!
making my ears ring. “Pussy muthafucka.” He clenched his teeth as he watched him slump to the ground.

Marvin started laughing. “Fish, nigga, where did you get these pussy muthafuckas from?”

He shrugged. “That’s what happens when you send a boy to do a man’s job.” Fish pointed his gun at me and let one off. All I heard was . . .
BOOM!

I could hear, but I couldn’t move. Aisha! My baby! The last thing I remembered was hearing my daughter saying, “Daddy, we can’t leave Mommy.”

The anguish from all the memories overwhelmed me. I brought my hands to my face and cried. I was excited that I was remembering. But my daughter . . . Marvin left me? My stomach knotted up, and I couldn’t hold back the tears. “He left me!” I screamed out.

“Kyra!” I heard Rick yell from the front seat. “Are you okay?”

“He . . .” I felt dizzy, and then everything went black again.

I woke up to my brother and Trae staring in my face. These two pussy muthafuckas were standing at the end of my hospital bed with rocks in their jaws. I was disappointed in both of these niggas. I didn’t know who these muthafuckas were anymore. Mad niggas were telling me that they were all wifed up and shit, crying about gettin’ out of the game. Get out? I reminded those fools that we used to fuck the shit outta New York, raw. It was
me
who gave their lil’ asses the muthafuckin’ keys to this city. It was
me
who hooked them up with a connect that set them up for life. It was
me
who did a bid for these two pussies and got outta prison thinking we were gonna be out here makin’ this paper, and what did I get? Knifed up over some pussy? And did my own brother have my fuckin’ back? Hell, no! Since when was this a part of the game? So what if I fucked Trae’s bitch, he was supposed to take that shit and keep it moving. Niggas, bitches, wives and girlfriends been getting fucked since the game started. Now niggas want to stand by their vows and shit. My only plan was to take back what was mine . . . the streets of New York. Do these muthafuckas think that my plan is supposed to change because they went soft and
shit? Or because the Dons are complaining? Fuck my brother! Fuck Trae! And fuck the Dons. Shit, they ain’t the only ones with work around here. I do shit my muthafuckin’ way. I can ride solo. I told both of them to get the fuck away from me. I told them that I was no longer ridin’ with them.

I was glad when Kay got on the elevator and left me to do me. He knows that this shit between me and Kyron is not going to end until one of us was dead. We both knew that Kyron had 90’s dreams about taking the streets over once again. That is what is wrong with the majority of these niggas, they come home and think that shit still supposed to be like it was. No matter how many ways we tried to explain to this nigga that snitching is accepted with these new generation wanna-be hustlers, he wasn’t hearing it. I saw the greed and excitement in his eyes. Now it was time to put his lights our permanently. I took the five inch blade out of my pocket and went to work, wishing that I could have chopped his head off with an axe. I pulled the knife out of his throat and stood by the bed watching this grimy muthafucka take his last breath. All the while thinking to myself that out of all the lives I took and all the shit I did, not until this very moment had any of it felt justified.

Satisfied with the work I just put in, I went into his bathroom to wash the blood off my hands and my blade. I pulled the ski mask off and stuffed it inside my pocket. I then took off the hoodie, turned it inside out, and put it back on. I smiled at myself in the mirror.

After slipping out of this nigga’s hospital room and bypassing
the elevators, I entered the stairwell. I rushed down six flights to the second floor and then decided to get on the elevator. Just as I anticipated, when the doors opened, it was full. I stepped on, blending in with the crowd, and as soon as the doors reopened, I made my way out of the main lobby, passing security.

Outside, I started walking down 168th Street, thinking how that last move was done purely on emotion. Never a good thing, but it sure had me on a high. I hopped on the first bus I saw, the M4, and rode for a few blocks, got off, and flagged down a taxi. I gave the driver an address down the street from my apartment building.

Mission accomplished
.

•   •   •

After enjoying a long hot shower, I lit a blunt and sat on the couch. I wanted to soak in and enjoy the peace and quiet around me, especially since I knew it was only the lull before the storm. The storm that I brewed up.

I also wanted to bask in my glory for a just a few moments. Old Kyron made Treacherous Trae come back out. That was my own nickname for myself back in the day. Being in the game wasn’t easy. I had to take a lot from niggas and I had to give just as much by sending a lot of niggas to where I just sent Kyron. Straight to hell where I was sure that I would see all of them muthafuckas. But no nigga ever got what he didn’t deserve. I almost went back down memory lane before Kyron went to jail and we was all out here lil’ niggas trying to get it. But fuck that. I looked straight up at the ceiling and tried to think about nothing. But this apartment wouldn’t let me. It was too dear to me for many reasons. I looked around my
living room. I was attached to this apartment because it held so much history of where I came from and who I am now. That’s why I would never sell it. I got this apartment as soon as I started seeing real money. Owning real estate on New York’s Park Avenue back in the day let us know that we had arrived. Kay and I used to call this spot ‘“The Honeycomb.”’ I remember how good it felt to get into my bed after weeks of nonstop hustling. We would rest for a day or two, and then we were right back at it. Those were the days.

I laid my head back and stared up at the ceiling. My thoughts drifted back to when I first brought Tasha here. She was the icing on the cake. Kay and I had a rule: No hos allowed. But as soon as I laid eyes on Tasha, I knew she was the one. I knew that she was going to be my wife. I will never forget the euphoria I felt to have snatched her up right when we were on our way out of the game. I was ready to settle down with that special someone who’d make me feel as if all that grindin’ and throwing bricks at the penitentiary was well worth it. My baby stepped up to the plate and made me feel just right.

I’ll always remember when I got shot, at Angel’s wedding, getting out of the hospital and having Tasha nurse me back to health, right here in this very apartment. What used to be my bachelor pad now had tampons under the sink. My weight room was now the kids’ bedroom, with bunk beds and Transformer curtains hanging over the windows.
Damn.
Nothing stays the same.

I had dozed off, not knowing how long I was asleep, when somebody woke me by knocking on the door. When the knocking got louder, I sat up, and in walked Kay. He had a key, so why was this nigga knocking as if he was the police?

“Yo, nigga, you slippin’ tough,” Kay teased.

“I knew ya ass was coming through.” I held up the .380 I had tucked under my thigh. “She’s never far from me. I keep my bitch close,” I teased back.

I knew he would be stopping by, which was one of the reasons I didn’t retire in the bedroom. I got up and went to the bathroom to piss, wash my face, and brush my teeth. Wide awake, I was now ready to face the music.

I went back into the living room and glanced at the clock. Three thirty-three in the morning. I sat down and watched Kay walk into the kitchen and come back into the living room with two Heinekens. He passed me one of them as he looked around, smiled, and sat down. I knew he was reminiscing about old times, too. You had to have been rollin’ with us to understand what we were feeling. It was a rush to hustle nonstop and have to constantly look over your shoulders. I relit the other half of my blunt, took a few tokes, stood up and passed it to my main nigga.