Justify My Thug (17 page)

I picked up the phone and tried to call him. Of course he didn't answer. Then I called Kendrick, he didn't answer either. I
wasn't lying. I didn't know where my brother lived. He was smart about that. I guess once he started fucking with Tasha he figured he better keep his home address on the low. I did know that he brought a spot right here in the city.

“Somebody gotta know where he lives. Come with me to Kendrick's. I know you know where he lives.”

I looked at my man. I did not want to get in the middle of this bullshit. I had already told my brother I was fallin' back, because I didn't see nothing good coming out of this situation. Now, Trae sensed my hesitation.

“Look, I know you don't want to get involved. Just give me the address and I'll go over there by myself. I just want to get Kyron's address.”

“What happens if he doesn't give it to you?”

Trae looked at me. He took a seat and crossed his legs. “I don't know, man. Right now, I don't know.”

I was glad that Shorty was going to be alright and that her ankle wasn't broken. I ran her a nice hot tub of water and poured the solution in the tub for her swollen ankle. I gladly helped her strip out of her clothes and put her in the tub. I looked at her body and licked my lips.

“You hungry?” I asked her.

“Not really.” She laid back and relaxed in the tub.

“You can't take these pain pills on an empty stomach. You gotta eat something.”

She sighed, “Just fix me some broccoli and cheese soup. And some cantaloupe.”

“Cantaloupe?”

“Yes, cantaloupe as in fruit. A part of the melon family.”

“Alright smart ass,” she smiled at me. I left her in the bathroom to find out where I could get some broccoli and cheese soup and
cantaloupe
. I saw that my brother Kay had been calling me. I wondered what he wanted. I made a mental note to call him later as I called Marlo the doorman to see if he could help a brother out. He said he would take care of me. I then put my focus on giving Tasha a nice bath.

We got to Kendrick's apartment a little after 8:00. I tried my best to talk Trae out of it but of course he wasn't tryna hear that shit. Hell, I couldn't blame him. If it was my wife I'd be ready for war as well. I only wished that I wasn't in the middle of the bullshit. Why did this have to be so close to home? I was relieved when no one answered the door. But it didn't matter. Trae told me to leave. He was going to camp out until he showed. I'd give it a few days and this shit was going to blow up like the World Trade. Neither one of them muthafuckas could hide forever. Kyron didn't act like he was trying to stop fucking with Tasha and Trae was not going to simply walk away.

Before I left, I saw Trae look at his cell phone and then answer it. By the look on his face I could tell that something was wrong. Real wrong. When he disconnected the call and sat down on the steps, I asked him what was up. I wasn't ready for his reply.

“Somebody killed Tasha's cousin, Stephon. They gunned him down right outside in the parking lot of my fuckin' club.”

This was definitely my night and I was floating on a cloud. I pampered Tasha until she couldn't be pampered anymore. I bathed her, carried her to the bedroom where I oiled her body and wrapped her ankle up. Then I fed her the cantaloupe she had been craving and she ate a little of the broccoli soup and crackers. I gave her a couple of the painkillers, a massage and now she was fast asleep.

I fixed a couple of pastrami and cheese sandwiches, took a nice hot shower and then rolled a blunt. I sat in the living room listening to CDs and sipping on some
CÎROC
red berry. I was feeling real nice and even nicer once my thoughts wandered to Shorty laying there in my bed. She already told me that ain't going to be no fucking going on and I was fine with that. That was until I got up off the sofa and went into my bedroom. Shorty was laying on her stomach, her foot with the wrapped ankle was on a pillow and she was snoring lightly. She had on one of my button-up pajama shirts and her ass was poked out and legs partly spread. Now, what was a nigga supposed to do? The moonlight creeping through the window had Shorty looking like an angel. The next thing I knew I had stepped out of my sweat pants and was standing there butt naked, admiring that fat ass. Shorty had an ass that you wanted to kiss gently and then part them ass cheeks and lick her crack. I had never done that shit before but I was tempted. I grabbed my jimmy and started stroking, nice and slow. As my dick got a little harder she moaned and her legs spread a little wider. It was as if she knew I was there. Right then and there some pre cum oozed out and there was no turning back if I wanted to. My big man was now in control. I crept onto the bed, careful not to disturb her ankle and put my dick at her opening.

My mind was foggy and at first I thought I was dreaming. Was I waking up to a long, hard dick sliding up in me? It was feeling good as shit so I knew at that moment it wasn't a dream. After the cloudiness cleared my head I remembered whose dick was all up in my pussy …
Kyron.
I went to move and my ankle said,
I don't think so
.

“Kyron … wait … baby … no,” I feebly stated. I had told this nigga that we weren't going to be fucking but this nigga was working my pussy like only a champion could. He reached around and grabbed onto my clit and it was on from there. I was scared to move because of my ankle, but I was able to raise my ass a little and this nigga just went in deeper. He was getting his fuck on, I could feel it and it was feeling good as hell. Trae swears on pregnant pussy. He says its juicer, sweeter, hotter and mine is to kill for. Now Kyron was getting a taste and I knew that he was going to be gone. The only sounds was us moaning and his dick sliding in and out of my wet gushy. He was going faster on my clit and the sensation was heightening. I bit down into the pillow and that's when he popped those words out the side of his mouth.

“Marry me, Tasha. Marry me, Shorty.”

“What?” I needed to make sure I heard him right as he started cumming.

Ever since that bitch Jaz threatened me I had my plan in full motion. What I had planned for her was easy, but getting Faheem to be a little friendlier, now that was hard. However, I finally did manage to get him to at least let me come into their home. Of course that was when I knew Jaz wasn't there. I never told him about our conversation on the porch that evening. I made it seem as though I was very happy with the current arrangement and the way his
wife
was receiving our son. I even got a few smiles from him when I dropped our son off a few times. He wanted to be a father to Lil' Faheem and the only way to do that was to have them spend as much time as possible together. And of course, that meant more time seeing me.

Shit, I have to admit, things seemed to be getting back to normal. And the fact that a son was added to my family made
my life whole. I wanted to hate Oni but ever since I stepped to that ass she had been acting like she had some sense and she was kissing my ass every chance she got. The thing that got her some cool points was when I was riding with my son and he said, “Mommy said you are a good strong man and I should be just like you.” The pride he had on his face was priceless. That was the moment I decided to cut her a little slack. Not too much, just a little. I even let her come inside a few times while Lil' Faheem got his stuff together. I have to admit the years were not hard on her at all. She still looked as good as the day I met her, and the fact that she was doing good raising our son added to her beauty.

I noticed Faheem looking at me and my stomach started to knot and my coochie started to tingle. He walked over to where I was standing and the closer he got with each step, the more I began to tense up. My hands started sweating and I wanted to say something but my throat felt dry as sandpaper. The intensity in his stare always fucked me up. When he got right up on me, the smell of his cologne got my nipples hard and I could feel the chill bumps covering my arms. Yeah, Faheem is all of that.

“I admire what you are doing with our son,” he said as he sat Faheem's bags on the counter. They had just come back from doing the father-son thing. He then brushed against me and my heart sank.

“Can I have something to drink?” he asked, already heading for the refrigerator.

“You can have anything you want,” I said a little above a whisper. I didn't want him to hear that but it came out anyway.

He turned around and looked at me. “Daddy still got it like that?” he asked as he moved back to where I was standing.

“You know better than anybody that I always wanted to be yours Faheem and nothing will ever change that,” I responded, feeling like a school girl getting some attention from the High School jock. I turned away from him and began to go through Faheem's bags. I had to use my nervous energy somehow.

He came and stood behind me. Placing his mouth to my ear and said, “What's mine is always mine.”

He was so close to me I could feel his heartbeat. My breathing picked up. I closed my eyes as his hands slid slowly up my arms. The phone rang and I almost jumped out my skin.

“Saved by the bell,” Faheem said real slick. “Answer your phone. I'll catch you later.” He said as he made his way to the door. I wanted to yell out, “No wait!” But it was too late and he was gone. And once again I was left with that familiar pain in my heart and wetness between my legs.

I loved Fridays. I only had my seven a.m. class, which I was running late for, and then a lab. Fridays were my easiest day of the week. I looked out of my rearview mirror and saw the flashing lights.
Damn
. I was only doing twenty-seven. I pulled over and waited. Hopefully I'll be able to talk him out of the ticket and not be too late for my class. The big tall teddy bear of an officer moved swiftly as he approached my car.

“Can I see your license and registration please?”

“Was I going that fast, officer?”

“License and registration.” He said as he yanked on the back door. “Unlock it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Unlock the doors. What's that in the back?”

I quickly unlocked the doors. He opened it, reached inside and then got on his walkie talkie and called in the stop. I then heard him request backup.

“Get the paper work and then get out of the car,” he said with venom in his voice.

Well
damn. You ain't got to be all nasty about it. Ain't like I just killed somebody.
I reached into the glove compartment for the registration and insurance card and retrieved my license from my wallet. As soon as I slammed the glove compartment shut, the officer was all in my face. He took the documents from me and went back into the unmarked car. There I was standing on the side of the damn road. About ten minutes later two more unmarked cars and two regular squad cars pulled up. That's when I called Faheem.

It wasn't even 7:30 in the morning and someone was banging on my front door as if they were the po-po. I had just dropped my daughter off at camp. My cell phone was ringing and it was Jaz.

“Baby, what's up?”

“I got pulled over for speeding and now these muthafuckas done called for backup,” she told me.

“What?”

“That's what I'm saying. They got me surrounded and shit, like I killed somebody.”

“Hold on, baby. Some crazy muthafucka is bangin' on my door.” I eased the curtain aside to look out of the window. It had to be about thirty muthafuckas in front of and around my house. “Jaz, you said you just got pulled over?”

“Yes and the muthafuckas called for backup.”

“Well the muthafuckas are here now. What the fuck is going on?”

“I don't know. Where's Kaeerah?”

“She's at camp.”

I opened the door before the punks broke the glass.

“We have a search warrant for the premises. Where is Jasmine Mujahid? Do you live here?”

“Yes, I live here. I'm her husband. I need to see the warrant and you need to tell me what this is in reference to?”

“The manufacturing and sale of methamphetamine. Come on now; don't act like you don't know. Crank, crystal meth, speed. I know your memory isn't that short. Your wife makes it.” This midget muthafucka then shoved the warrant in my face.

“Jaz, what the fuck is going on?” I turned my attention back to the phone.

“I don't know.”

“Well, these muthafuckas are here looking for you because you supposed to be manufacturing and selling meth,” I barked.

“What? Baby, I don't know what the fuck is going on.”

“You damn sure better not because you either playin' stupid or you actually are. Hang up. Let me call my attorney and get to the bottom of this shit.” I hung up and dialed my attorney Steve Sadow. I always had to keep somebody in the pocket, because you never knew and it was better to be prepared and Steve was that
muthafucka to have when it comes to cases. He cost a grip but the way I saw it, if he could get T.I. down from about thirty years to a one and a day, he wasn't to be fucked with. As I watched these muthafuckas go through my shit I thought about my weed.
Fuck.
I had at least an ounce left. Steve's secretary Melissa answered. I told her to have him get to my house yesterday.

Since these bastards weren't here for me they didn't handcuff me. They just asked me to have a seat at the kitchen table.

Oh my God. This was not happening to me … again. The only reason I wasn't freaking out was because I knew that this time I was innocent. That officer had to plant that shit on me when he told me to unlock the door. “Damn it!” I yelled out as I paced back and forth in a got damned cell. I've been clean as a whistle.
Who the fuck is behind this?
I tapped my forehead against the steel bars. After looking like a mental patient for about ten minutes. It came to me.