Love and a Gangsta (30 page)

Word on the streets was that the remains found up in Connecticut belonged to Tiny and his baby mama. Both bodies were so badly burned and decomposed that it took medical examiners and state troopers days to identify the bodies. They ran the partial plate on the tuck and then neighbors pieced together what cops needed to hear—that a young couple had been missing for days.

Of course the speculations of his death were pointed to my crew, but no one tried to come against me. I had a few visits from some detectives about the homicide. They came around asking me questions about the murders. There was no hard evidence against me. So everyone speculated but they couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I was sitting in the back office on the phone with Jazmin when Biscuit walked in.

“Yo, Mega…you got company,” he said.

“Who?”

Before anything else was said, two plain clothes detectives walked into my back office without any permission. They walked in on me like they owned the joint. One was puffing on a cigar and glared at me like he dared me to ask him to put it out. They both were black, tall, clad in dark suits, and one wore a derby over his baldhead. I was familiar with the both of them, this wasn’t the first time they came through harassing.

“Omega, how’s my favorite thug doing this Friday night?” detective Grey asked nonchalantly. He was thin, with dark even skin, a thick mustache, and failing hair.

“Fuck y’all want!”

“Damn nigga, is that anyway to treat old friends,” his partner Howard said. He was the same height as his partner, but was clean-shaven, and looked like he could be a pimp.

“Baby, let me call you back. I gotta handle something,” I told Jazmin over the phone.

“Yeah, call that bitch back. You and I, we need to talk,” detective Grey said.

“City needs to pay y’all more, and then maybe both of y’all wouldn’t be such dicks. That’s why y’all coming into my office tryin’ to look hard, tryin’ to look for some pussy to fuck. Well detectives, I ain’t the one you need to try and fuck,” I said eyeing both detectives coolly.

“You a smart-ass ain’t you Omega?” Howard chided.

“Yeah he is, tryin’ to be like his older brother,” Grey stated. “You know I was the one that locked up his older brother… Rahmel right? And you know, I’m itching to put you behind bars.”

“Y’all ain’t got shit on me, so what’s the point.”

“Point is,” Howard began, taking a seat on my desk, “we know what you’re about. We know that you had something to do with Tiny’s death. We know you’re the one responsible for bringing meth into this community. You’re a drug dealer, Omega… Getting rich off of other people misery. How do you live with yourself?”

“In my half a million dollar home, far away from you inner city pricks,” I replied sarcastically.

“Nigga, you respect my partner, or I swear, I’ll break your fuckin’ legs right here in this office,” Grey threatened.

I glared at Grey as he continued to puff on the fuckin’ cigar, blowing smoke in my direction.

“Look here, you heartless muthafucka, I have a daughter, and a son, fifteen and seventeen and if anyone of my kids get hooked on anything you’re pushing in these streets, mark my words, I will personally come back here and fuck you up before I shoot you down,” Grey warned.

“Just teach your kids to ‘Just say no’.”

“You think I’m joking,” Grey shouted, coming at me heatedly, but his partner held him back, a smart idea for the both of them.

Hearing the disturbance, Biscuit walked into my office, not fearing police. He glared at both men, itching to shoot them both down without having a second thought in his head.

“You think your little teenage body guard is going to have your back when the NYPD comes swarming down on your bitch ass?” Howard exclaimed.

“He’s just being a witness right now, in case I need to bring up a lawsuit against y’all,” I informed, mocking them.

“Listen here, you little shit face, one day, you’re gonna fuck up and when you do, I’ll be there with the Vaseline and put you where your brother is. You can’t win, we will. When it’s time to bring you down, I’ll make sure
you hit the concrete face first, maybe break something. Enjoy it for now, because sooner or later, everything comes to an end,” detective Grey stated.

“Y’all done? I gotta get back to business,” I said.

Both men gave me one hard stare and then casually walked out my office. I wasn’t scared.

“What the fuck they wanted?” Biscuit asked.

“They’re just bored, that’s all.”

“Fo’ real, Mega, I can fuckin’ give them something for their boredom,” Biscuit mocked.

I smiled, admiring his heart. He truly didn’t give a fuck.

“Nah, we good for now. Let them do their job, and I’ll do mines,” I said to him.

The night wore on and it seemed like everyone wanted a piece of beef with me. I was counting money in the office when the phone rang. I told Biscuit to get it. He picked up as I placed several hundred bills in the money counter.

“Mega, it’s for you… That faggot-ass Demetrius,” Biscuit informed, tossing me the phone.

I knew he would be calling soon. I put the phone to my ear and exclaimed, “What the fuck you want?”

“Yuh murder mi fuckin’ cousin like that… Yuh blood-claat dead, mon, mi comin’ fi yuh head… Yuh take mi fi joke?”

“Nigga, I told you, get in my way, and I’ll put you the fuck down like a stray dog,” I quickly retorted.

“Yuh dead… Yuh family dead!”

“Nigga, check this… Suck my muthafuckin’ dick and get the fuck off my phone!” I shouted. “I ain’t got time for games, you fuckin’ faggot!”

I hung up, not giving a fuck. He wanted a war, I had the guns, and I had soldiers who would go all out.

A week later, Biscuit called me up and said that two of our meth labs had been
hit and set on fire. I was furious. I lost four men in the blaze and now cops were investigating. I knew Demetrius had a hand in this.

I arranged a meeting with all my street enforcers and lieutenants to set up a strategy to get at this nigga before he fucked up my stores. Demetrius was unpredictable and could be at any place at anytime. According to my lieutenants, his boy, Jagged, had a familiar spot he liked to attend on a regular basis. We had to go through Jagged to get at Demetrius. The hit was given the green light. It’d be only be a matter of time. Greasy and I was rising to the top and there was not a damn thing stopping that.

That night, Greasy and I celebrated our success over booze, pussy, and watching Menace II Society on my 60” LCD flat screen. We had Judy and her partner Ivory keeping us company. We had them cop-bitches butt-ass naked, high as an antennae, and running around my spot acting the fool, sucking and fucking. Judy’s titties were in my face and I finger-fucked her. Greasy was getting his dome bronzed by Ivory.

“We doin’ it, Mega… This the life right here, money, pussy, power, and being untouchable,” Greasy laughed with a glass of Cristal swirling in his hand and smiling.

“For all our hard work and for continue success… Salu my nigga,” I toasted.

“I’m sorry about Soul, Greasy. He should be in this room right now, gettin’ paper like you and me. You know that nigga is hard-headed,” I said.

“Yo, Soul’s like a rock. He can hold his own. Ooh yeah, girl… Greasy ain’t sweating, Mega.”

“I got him a good lawyer, Greasy. He’ll be ahight.”

Greasy nodded, focusing his attention on Ivory. “Bitch, you look so much better being out of that pig skin,” he laughed.

“I do, huh,” Ivory replied, pressing up against my boy, stroking his dick and kissing him passionately.

“Yeah, let Greasy get into all that pork chops.”

Judy smiled over at them and then took another hit of crystal meth up her nostril.

“Fuck me, Omega. I want you inside of me now and handle your business like a stallion.”

Meth made her go crazy sexually. She loved to fuck and I wasn’t complaining. Her pussy felt so much better when she got high. It was no limits with her. She took it in the ass, down her throat, between her tits; she didn’t care where the dick went. Judy took me by my hand and led me to the steaming ready Jacuzzi upstairs.

“Greasy, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, my nigga,” I said, following Judy’s round ass up the steps.

It was early Thursday morning when I got the call. Biscuit was on the other end and told me I needed to come down to Greasy’s place in Elmont. I knew what to expect, it wasn’t a shock for me, this was the game, and this was life. You gonna lose niggas on your way to the top. But Greasy was like a brother to me. I put my emotions to the side and drove the hour-long ride to his home.

Police wasn’t called to his place yet. I needed to see for myself. Biscuit and Monk met me when I arrived. Greasy’s girl found the body and had called Biscuit.

“Shit ain’t lovely Mega, for ‘ real. They did Greasy sump’n awful. Fo’ real, fo’ real,” Biscuit said.

“Where she found him?” I asked.

“In the basement,” Biscuit said. “They put in some work on him before they killed him.”

I followed my crew into the home and walked down into the basement. The cellar was dimmed and still and I smelled death as I approached his carcass. I stood silently and observed Greasy’s lifeless body swinging from the ceiling.

“Damn!” I uttered, hating what I was seeing.

He was naked, with a chain around his neck, cut the fuck up being butchered down the middle. His genitals was stuffed in his mouth and left a Colombian bowtie on him. Slicing his neck opened and pulling his tongue through it was a mark of disrespect. His hands and feet were bonded.

“Bring him down!” I demanded. I couldn’t see my nigga hanging and looking like that.

I didn’t want to look weak so I held back my tears. They tortured and disrespected my dude. I knew Greasy lost his life cruelly for the family. Monk and Biscuit slowly removed the chain that was tightened around his neck and brought him down from his suffering. His girl was upstairs in tears; she discovered the body and was truly fucked up. There was nothing I could do now, except carry out some brutal revenge in his name. I stared down at Greasy, shaking my head. His death would not be in vain.