Knee Deep in the Game (23 page)

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Authors: Boston George

BOOK: Knee Deep in the Game
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“Of course it is,” Tito shot back as he screwed a silencer on his P89.
“I don't even fuck with Fresh no more I swear to God,” Pooh said, pleading for his life.
“I know,” Tito began calmly. “Just get in the trunk.”
“Nah, B, you going to have to shoot me right here 'cause I'm not getting in that—”
Before Pooh knew it his thigh had a hole in it. Tito quickly shoved the big man in the trunk before he could drop to the ground.
As Tito tossed Pooh in the trunk, he noticed the .380 hanging out of the man's boot. Quickly Tito unarmed the big man and slammed the trunk shut.
“Fat mu'fucka,” Tito snarled as he jumped in the driver's seat of his Acura and peeled off.
 
 
“Wherever I catch that nigga that's where I'm leaving him,” Rusty huffed, still mad that Pop had fucked him up. But he was really mad that Pop had interrupted right before he was about to get some of Melissa's sweet pussy.
“Wow that's crazy,” Fresh said, leaning back in his chair before he continued. “I hate to do this but Pop is leaving me no choice, put the word out there fifteen stacks for whoever takes Pop's life,” he said, looking at Rusty's scarred-up face.
Deep down inside Fresh wished that it was something that he could do to help Pop, 'cause he really liked the young man, but he knew if he didn't handle this situation properly the streets would take it as a sign of weakness.
“Fuck it, Pop just going to have to bite the bullet on this one,” Fresh said to himself as he began to prepare a backup plan. Just in case anything went wrong he would have another option to address the situation.
 
 
Melissa pulled up in front of the police station and let the engine die. Her eyes were bloodshot red from all the crying she had been doing. She still couldn't believe Pop killed her sister, but yet she was still thankful that he saved her life the other night. She still had no answers to her questions, like why would Fresh want Amanda murdered. She and Amanda talked to each other about everything and snitching was never a topic. But now Melissa had no choice but to do what she had to do. She loved Pop to death but in her book family came first and even though Amanda was dead she was still family. Before Melissa exited her vehicle she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Pop's number. It rung a few times then went straight to his voice mail so she decided to leave a message.
“Hey, Pop, it's me Melissa. I just wanted to say thank you for what you did for me last night.” She paused. “They say everything that happens, it happens for a reason, but as I sit here in front of this police station I can't seem to come up with a reason not to go inside and spill my guts. This message is just to let you know that I love you dearly and you will always have my heart, but on the other hand, I have to do what I have to do and as of right now the police are the only ones who can help me ... by the time you hear this message I'll be done telling the police everything that I know. So what I need you to do is take the advice that you gave me the other night—Leave this fucked-up city and never come back!” Melissa sobbed as she ended the call.
 
 
“A yo, give me five of those mountain bikes right there,” Pop said to the salesman.
“Which ones?”
“It don't matter just give me five of them mu'fuckas,” Pop snarled, tossing the money on the counter.
For the past three days Pop had not been in the best of moods. He no longer had any positive thoughts left in his brain, only negative ones, not to mention he was about to go crazy from being paranoid. Every five seconds he found himself looking over his shoulders.
“Yo, y'all come get these bikes,” Pop said, signaling for the five kids to come inside the store. “Yo, hook these kids up,” Pop said to the salesman as he exited the store.
As soon as Pop stepped outside the store something just didn't feel right. He quickly hopped in his Benz. “I think I'm going to lay low for these last few days,” he said to himself as stepped on the gas, heading home. As Pop drove home he picked up his phone and saw that he had a missed call from Melissa along with a message. He quickly listened to the message. After he heard the message that she had left him all he could do was chuckle.
“Fuck it,” Pop said out loud.
What else could go wrong
? he thought as he weaved in and out of lanes. After listening to that message Pop knew he had to leave town and do it fast. Jail wasn't in his plans nor was getting killed, so his brain was racing a thousand miles per second. He didn't know what his next move was, but he knew he had to make a move and make it fast.
Pop pulled into the hotel parking lot that he and Nika had been staying in and let the engine die. He looked over both shoulders before he entered his room. Not only did he have Fresh and the goons out looking for him, but now he also had to worry about the cops looking to pick him up.
At the end of the day Pop wasn't even really mad at Melissa for going to the police. Once certain lines are crossed there ain't no telling what a person will do or is willing to do. He just knew that from now on he had to stay on point.
 
 
When Pooh woke up he found himself in some kind of basement, tied to a chair. “What the fuck is going on?” Pooh yelled, waiting for an answer.
Immediately Pooh defecated on himself when he felt the Taser come in contact with his stomach. Pooh's body jerked and shook uncontrollably until Tito removed the Taser from his stomach.
“You ready to talk now?” Tito asked.
“I already told you I don't know where to find Fresh,” Pooh whined as tears rolled down his cheek. After ten minutes of hitting Pooh with the Taser it was time for something a little more powerful.
“I don't know why you want to do things the hard way,” Tito chuckled as he removed a nail gun from his duffel bag.
“Come on, Tito, we were like brothers back in the day,” Pooh cried.
“This ain't back in the day no more,” Tito said coldly as he sent a nail through Pooh's shoulder. Pooh screamed at the top of his lungs as he felt pain shoot through his whole body.
“Okay, okay, I'll tell you whatever you want to know,” Pooh squealed as a long line of slob hung from his chin.
“All I want to know is when can I find Fresh when he's alone?”
“The only time he's alone is when he goes to see Vanessa,” Pooh said as he broking into a coughing fit.
“Who the fuck is Vanessa?” Tito asked.
“Some chick Fresh be messing with from the Bronx. She live out in Queensbridge.”
“Now how hard was that?” Tito asked as he untied Pooh's right hand and the man wrote down the address as Tito held a pen and pad up close to him.
“There's the address now untie me,” Pooh demanded.
“I'm sorry but I can't do that,” Tito said as he placed the nail gun to Pooh's head, and pulled the trigger several times.
Tito didn't even stay to see Pooh's body hit the floor, once he pulled the trigger he was on his way to avenge his mother's death.
All day Tito sat parked at the address that Pooh had given him. “What the fuck is taking this mu'fucka so long?” he said out loud, looking at his windshield wipers wipe away the raindrops.
Fifteen minutes later, Tito noticed a black Navigator stop directly in front of the address Pooh had given him. Tito's hands immediately started sweating as he tightened his grip on his shotgun, hoping this was his target pulling up.
Rusty stepped out of the driver's side of the navigator holding a .45 at his side. He quickly walked around to the other side to open up the back door for Fresh, but before he did he scanned the block thoroughly. “Ain't nobody out here on a rainy day like this,” he said to himself as he opened the back door. Once Tito laid eyes on Fresh he made his move. He slid out of his vehicle, and began a slow jog so he could get closer to his target for a possible better shot.
The sound of someone's foot splashing in a puddle quickly told Rusty that he and Fresh weren't the only ones outside.
“Watch your back, Fresh!” Rusty yelled as he turned around, raising his .45. Unfortunately, for him he didn't turn around quick enough. Tito pulled the trigger on his shotgun, lighting up the street with a loud, roaring noise.
Fresh just watched as the power from the shotgun lifted Rusty off his feet and hurled him backward. Rusty's body hit the ground like a rag doll and skidded until it crashed the curb. Instantly Fresh pulled out his .380 and sent two shots in Tito's direction as he dodged a fireball from Tito's shotgun.
Fresh's heart was beating a thousand miles per second as he took cover behind a parked car. A shiver of fear ran down his spine as he heard the shotgun blast blow out the windows of the parked car he stood behind as glass rained on top of his head.
“Stop hiding, you fuckin' pussy!” Tito yelled as he slowly moved closer to the parked car with caution.
Vanessa had just got out of the shower when she heard the first thunderous gunshot go off. Once she heard the shots she knew Fresh had something to do with it.
“Lord, please don't let my baby be hurt,” Vanessa prayed out loud as she ran to the window in her towel to see what was going on. Her heart dropped instantly when she saw the unknown gunman closing in on Fresh. Without hesitation Vanessa ran to her closet and grabbed the 9 mm that Fresh had given her for emergencies only, and headed back toward the window.
The rain was coming down so hard Tito knew in order to get a good shot he was going to have to get closer to Fresh, he was even willing to take a shot to give one. Before Tito could take another step he heard multiple gunshots go off as they came raining down in his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
As Tito laid on the wet ground he heard a woman's voice from up above scream, “I love you, Fresh.” He couldn't make out the face of the person who shot him; all he could see was a blurry picture of the shooter in the window. With his last bit of strength Tito aimed his shotgun at the blurry picture and pulled the trigger.
The shot blew half of Vanessa's face off as she fell out of the second-floor window, landing right next to Fresh. The sight of Vanessa's mutilated face caused Fresh to throw up the Popeyes fried chicken he consumed earlier.
“Damn, boo,” Fresh sneered as he looked at his shorty laying on the wet ground, stretched out.
“Fuck!” Fresh screamed out as he heard the sound of police sirens getting louder and louder.
He quickly made his way to Tito and stood over his body. “A real leader takes care of his peoples,” Tito slurred, letting out a weak cough, follow by a wicked smirk.
Fresh didn't respond, instead he emptied his clip in Tito's face.
“Bitch-ass nigga,” Fresh growled as he ran and hopped in the driver's seat of the Navigator. Before he could even get a block away a police car crashed into him from the side causing the back of his SUV to swerve in the wrong direction. Fresh tried to ignore the crash but a second cop car stopped directly in front of him, blocking his path.
“Aww shit,” Fresh cursed as he reached for his .380 until he remembered that it was empty. Left with no choice, he surrendered as he placed his hands on the steering wheel.
Chapter Twenty
The Big Day
 
“Yo, you got everything?” Pop asked as he placed the $200,000 dollars he had saved up in a duffel bag.
“Yeah, I got everything,” Nika replied with a smile on her face. This was the happiest day of Nika's life—she was leaving New York with the man she loved, and had no plans on returning.
Pop placed his 9 mm in his waistband for backup, but his main weapon of choice was an AK-47. Way too much shit had been jumping off for Pop to take a chance, all he wanted to do was leave town in one piece.
“Baby, pull the car up in front of my mother's building, I'm going to run over there and leave her a couple of dollars,” Pop said as he handed Nika his AK-47.
When Pop stepped outside he glanced at his watch that read 7:05
A.M.
Pop was trying to leave town early to avoid any problems. As he approached his mother's building he noticed little Brittany sitting outside on the bench.
“What the fuck is she doing out here so early?” Pop wondered as he approached his little sister.
“What you doing out here so early?” he asked curiously.
“I'm just getting some fresh air,” little Brittany answered with her head down.
“At seven o'clock in the morning?” Pop asked as he studied the little girl. As he looked his little sister up and down he noticed that she was sporting a fresh black-and-blue bruise on her neck.
“Who been hitting you like this?” Pop asked.
“Mommy's new boyfriend,” little Brittany whispered, looking at the ground.
“What else has that fool been doing to you?” Pop asked curiously. The look on little Brittany's face answered Pop's question.
“He upstairs right now?” he asked. Little Brittany didn't speak, she just nodded yes.
“Wait right here I'll be right back,” Pop stated as he headed upstairs. Once he reached his mother's floor he quickly snatched his 9 mm from his waistband as he unlocked the front door with his key.
The smell of urine mixed with dirty clothes quickly assaulted Pop's nose. He made his way down the dark hallway until he reached his mother's room. Teresa and her boyfriend both jumped when they saw the bedroom door fly open.
“Mu'fucka, you don't know how to knock?” the boyfriend barked, whipping the crust from his eyes. Instantly Pop exploded at the sound of the man's voice.
“What?” Pop asked, moving in closer.
“Nigga, is you deaf mu'fucka? I said—”
A bullet to the man's head quickly took the life out of his body. “You should be ashamed of yourself—how you let this pervert touch Brittany?” Pop asked, aiming his smoking pistol at his mother.
“That little bitch is lying, what did she tell you?” Teresa asked, defensively frowning her face up at her son. “I hope it was worth it, fool, 'cause now you going to spend the rest of your miserable life behind bars. I already told you I didn't want you in my house again,” Teresa snapped as she picked up the phone.
“None of us asked to be here,” Pop said flatly as a tear escaped his eye.
“Yeah, and I didn't ask you to be in my house right now, and don't flatter yourself because if I had the money for an abortion trust me you wouldn't be standing here right now,” Teresa added as she dialed 911.
“I really think you should of had the abortion,” Pop said as he pulled trigger until there were no bullets left in the 9 mm.
“Fuckin' lowlife scumbag,” Pop said under his breath as he took a look at the apartment he grew up in for the last time before making his exit.
When Pop made it back downstairs he quickly made his way over toward his sister and grabbed her by the wrist. “Come on, you coming with me,” Pop said as he grabbed little Brittany's hand and led her to the Benz that awaited them.
“Yo, it's been a change of plans,” Pop said as he slid in the passenger side of the Benz. “Brittany is coming with us.”
By the look on Pop's face, Nika could tell that he just did something crazy. “Yo, take me to the block so I can see my nigga Jason real quick,” Pop ordered as he reloaded his 9 mm.
After about fifteen minutes of driving Nika noticed two Dodge Chargers seemed to be following her.
“Baby, I think we got some company,” Nika said, looking through the rearview mirror.
“What you see, baby?” Pop asked, trying to look through the small side mirror so it didn't look obvious.
“Two Chargers riding side by side, they been in the rearview mirror for the last fifteen minutes,” Nika answered.
“Find out if they following us or not,” Pop said calmly as he grabbed the AK-47 from off the floor and placed it on his lap.
“No problem, baby,” Nika responded as she quickly swerved two lanes over, putting the pedal to the metal. Without hesitation the two Dodge Chargers did whatever the Benz did as if they were playing a game of follow the leader.
“Yeah, they definitely following us, baby,” Nika replied, still looking through the rearview mirror.
“A'ight, get off the next exit,” Pop ordered as he said a quick prayer.
“A yo, pull over right there in front of the train station,” he said, pointing to the train station.
“A'ight, this is what we going to do, I want you to take Brittany, and get on the train,” he told her.
“What? You must be crazy,” Nika shot back. “I'm not leaving you, we in this shit together.”
“Listen, we ain't going to make it driving. I want you and Brittany to take the train to forty-deuce (Forty-second Street) and grab us three Greyhound tickets going to Miami. It's eight o'clock now, get the tickets for nine o'clock and I'll meet you at the station before the bus leaves the station, a'ight?” Pop said.
“Pop, I don't want to leave you,” Nika cried out as the tears came rolling down her face.
“You have to, baby, I don't give a fuck what happens at nine o'clock, you better be on that bus,” Pop said as he handed Nika the duffel bag full of money.
“You better be there before that fuckin' bus takes off, Pop,” she warned.
“Listen, baby, I'm going to do whatever it takes to catch that bus,” Pop assured Nika as he placed a big, wet juicy kiss on her lips.
“I love you, Pop,” Nika said as she slid out the driver's door, grabbed Brittany, and headed down the subway steps.
Once Nika disappeared out of Pop's eyesight, he quickly slid over to the driver's seat. He looked through his rearview mirror as he saw the two Chargers sitting idly a block away.
“Let's go, mu'fuckas, it's showtime,” he said out loud as he pulled out into traffic.
After about twenty minutes of testing the driving skills of the hitmen, Pop finally pulled up on his block.
As soon as Jason saw the Benz pull up he quickly grabbed the book bag that sat next to him, and made his way over to the driver's side window.
“Pop, what's good my nigga?” Jason asked as he tossed the book bag on the floor of the Benz. “That's sixty Gs right there. A little going-away present for you,” Jason joked.
“Yo, you see them two Chargers back there?” Pop asked, looking through his rearview mirror.
“Yeah, I see them,” Jason answered.
“Them mu'fuckas been following me for the past thirty minutes,” Pop informed.
“So how you want to handle this?” Jason asked, down for whatever.
“I'm not sure yet but I'm going to have to do something quick ‘cause my bus is leaving for Miami in thirty minutes,” Pop explained.
“Yo, put your head down, here these mu'fuckas come,” Jason yelled as he pulled out his cannon.
Once both of the Chargers got close enough to the Benz, the back windows rolled down, and out came a masked man holding a Mac 10 in each hand. Jason tried to hold his boss down but he was no match for the two masked man. The bullets from the Mac 10's ripped through Jason's body effortlessly.
Pop quickly took cover as the Mac 10 bullets riddled and rocked the Benz back and forth.
Pop clutched his AK as broken glass showered over him.
Once the gunfire paused, Pop slid out his Benz but still remained low as he peeked around the car so he could see what was going on. When Pop took his peek all he saw was opportunity. Without hesitation he sprung up from behind the Benz, blasting the AK. The machine gun filled the streets with a deadly roar. The bullets from the AK destroyed any and everything in its path, including innocent bystanders.
Once Pop ran out of bullets, he quickly hopped back in his bullet-filled Benz and peeled off. As he tried to make his getaway he noticed in his rearview mirror two cops cars tailing him. Pop didn't give a fuck; he was going to catch his bus by any means necessary. He quickly made a sharp left turn down a one way street. To his surprise, the two cop cars followed him down a oneway street at top speed.
“Let's do this, mu'fuckas,” Pop said out loud as he swerved out of the way of a oncoming vehicle as he turned into oncoming traffic.
Out of reflex Pop swerved away from a head-on collision with a van by a fingernail. “Oh, shit,” Pop yelled as he headed full speed toward a busy intersection. As he reached the intersection, he closed his eyes and prayed he would make it across safely.
Seconds later Pop found out that his prayers wouldn't be answered, as his neck jerked violently from side to side from the series of hits that his car took. “Aww shit,” he slurred as he felt warm blood running down his face.
Pop tried to use his right hand to pick the book bag up from off the floor, but his dislocated shoulder disagreed with the decision. With time working against him Pop grabbed the book bag with his left hand and placed it over his shoulder. He tried to get out of the vehicle but the driver's side door was jammed shut from the accident. Without thinking twice Pop slid out the window until his body slammed against the concrete.
Pop quickly picked himself up off the ground and began jogging down the street. “Fuck that, I ain't going to jail, he kept telling himself as he continued jogging down the street.
“Somebody stop that man!” a witness screamed out, pointing at the man with blood covering his face running down the street. Pop looked at his watch that read 8:53
A.M.
“Don't worry, baby, I'm coming,” he screamed out as if Nika could really hear him. He knew the bus station was only a couple of blocks away, his chances of making it were about sixty-forty.
 
 
“Miss, may I have you and your daughter's ticket?” the fat bus driver asked.
“I'm sorry sir, here you go,” Nika responded, handing the bus driver three tickets.
“My boyfriend is running a little late. Here's his ticket, can you give him like ten more minutes before you pull off, please?” Nika asked in a begging tone.
“Ten minutes and that's all,” the bus driver said firmly.
“Okay, thank you so much, Nika said, feeling a little better inside.
 
 
“Freeze, don't move!” a cop yelled, looking at the bloody man running down the street.
Pop ignored the officer and quickly sent two reckless shots in the cop's direction as he made a detour and cut through the park. As Pop cut through the park he noticed all the kids looking at him. The thought of those kids going through what he went through as a kid brought tears to his eyes. If he had a head start as a kid he probably wouldn't be getting chased at this very moment.
Pop looked over his shoulder and saw four officers running full speed in his direction. He had to do something and do it quick. He quickly ran toward the kids and unzipped his book bag. With no regrets he tossed the bag into the air and watched as money flew in every direction. Immediately all the kids, and their parents scrambled for their share of the money.
With that being done Pop managed to escape from out of the park. Once back on the streets, he did the best he could to clean his face with his shirt as he continued en route to the bus station. Pop no longer jogged, but instead he walked at a fast pace so he could try to blend in with other pedestrians.
 
 
“Excuse me, bus driver, can you please wait for five more minutes?” Nika begged the fat bus driver.
“I'm sorry, miss, but I have to get this bus on the road, I've waited for as long as I could,” the bus driver replied as he pulled out of the bus terminal.
Not knowing what else to do Nika went back to her seat and pulled out her cell phone. “Pop, you better answer,” she said to herself as she heard it ringing on the other line.
 

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