The Apostles (31 page)

Murder snickered. “Yeah right. But anyway, look, Vee. I know who kicked off this latest shit between us. A while back this nigga that used to be wit y'all named Insane Wayne tried to link up with us. We denied him, told him we don't fuck wit pancakes, and the nigga left with rocks in his jaws.”

“What the fuck do Wayne got to do with anything? That nigga was a bitch-ass trick and he got what he deserved. Y'all shoulda took that fag in.”

Murderman chose to ignore Vee's smart comment. “Well, I checked some shit out and found out that the kid he tricked on was the first nigga that got got. Behind the wheel of the car he took from Insane Wayne. Don't that sound like too much of a coincidence?”

Vee snapped, “First of all, quit calling that pussy-ass nigga Insane Wayne. That nigga's name is Wayne. Ain't shit insane ‘bout his bitch ass. And I know for a fact that bitch-ass nigga ain't killt no Governor. You motherfuckas got some nerve killing a Governor and sitting up here acting like it wadn't y'all that started all this shit. Y'all must think I'm some kind of fucking lame. Y'all trying to pin
this shit on some ho-ass nigga we got rid of. What the fuck do I look like?”

“Hold on, Vee,” Solemn Shawn said. “You think we doing this for the sake of doing it? If Murder says that's what happened then that's what happened. We didn't even have a reason to get at your guys.”

“You motherfuckas is lying!” Vee fumed. “I don't know who the fuck you think we is! Now you motherfuckas is up in here talking about peace after killing some of mine! You got to be crazy!” Vee stood up, prompting Teddy and O to do so. “You niggas is damn lucky that we up in the United Center. We out this bitch.”

Never leaving his seat, Solemn Shawn called after Vee. “Just like the old days, Vaton. You never could see the forest for the trees.”

“Yeah, and you always thought you was so motherfucking smart when you really was dumb as hell,” Vee retaliated. “Ain't gone be no peace treaty. The only peace there gone be is when you Assholes is resting in it.”

Murderman surged forward, but Solemn Shawn blocked his path. To Vee, he said, “Okay, Vee. We tried to talk sense to your stubborn ass. We had a chance to put this shit behind us, but you never could listen to anybody. That's a real character flaw.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you. You niggas is dead,” Vee threatened as he headed for the exit curtain.

“Don't no bitch-ass Goofy threaten no Apostles!” Murderman raged. “SS, let me go! You know the only reason this nigga talking shit is because we up in here!”

Noticing the four other fans in their section were paying more attention to them than the game, Solemn Shawn tightened his grip on Murderman's arm. “Chill that wild shit, M1! Fuck Vee! I already knew that stupid nigga wasn't going to believe you. Now calm yo ass down before one of these cats go get the security. Or did you forget you got a damn MP5 down outside in the car?”

Mumbling all the while, Murderman regained some semblance
of calm. Big Ant tried to hand him a cup of beer, which Murder-man smacked to the floor.

“Now why the fuck you do that?” Big Ant groused. “That funky cup of beer was five fucking dollars. If you ain't want the motherfucker I woulda drunk it.”

“Shut up, Big Ant,” Solemn Shawn said.

“S
ORRY
I
DON'T HAVE TIME TO HELP YOU LOAD UP
, T
ABBY
,” Samantha said as she dumped the remainder of her cup of coffee down the kitchen sink drain. “If you woulda got yo butt up I woulda had the time.”

Tabitha yawned and stretched over by the toaster where she was waiting for her Pop-Tarts to pop up. “It's cool, Sam. I got it. I ain't gone even lie. Wadn't no way I was gone get up this morning and do nothing. That's why I spent all day packing yesterday before I went out to celebrate last night.”

Samantha leaned against the counter. “So how was the party last night? You know I wanted to go, but I had to finish up some stuff for work, and the only babysitter I could get was Ma. And you know she doesn't really watch Lil Shawn—it's more like he watches her get drunk.”

“Girl, the party was off the meat racks. Shawn had it set up so drinks for me and my friends was free all night. Whatever we wanted. Charlene's is tight as hell. Since most of them niggas that was there is down with our brother wadn't nobody really trying to holler too tough, but you could tell they wanted to. Then I was chilling up in VIP with Shawn and them. That Big Ant is a fool. He damn near had me throwing up, he had me laughing so hard. For a minute I thought Shawn was gone get on that big-brother shit with me, but he let me party without bothering me. That was real
cool of him. Man, Sam, their world is so much like ours and at the same time it's different as hell, you know. I'mma miss that brother of ours when I'm away.”

“Looking forward to summer school?” Samantha asked as she grabbed her car keys off the countertop.

Tabitha placed her slightly charred Pop-Tarts on a saucer and grabbed her glass of orange juice. “Not really. Who wants to be in boring-ass Ohio for the summer. But I am looking forward to the big money a sister gone be making when I graduate with my mas-ter's.”

“I know that's right,” Samantha said as she walked over and gave her twin a kiss on the jaw. “I gotta bounce ‘fore I miss my Metro train. Make sure you set the alarm system and lock the door. You be safe, and call me when you get to school.”

“I will, Sam. Holla back.” Tabitha took her saucer and OJ into the living room and got comfortable on the couch. She turned on the morning news and ate her breakfast. She chased the news with some Oprah and ended up napping halfway through the program. Two hours later, she awoke and looked at her watch.

“Shit!” she said aloud. “I gotta get outta here.”

Upstairs in her room, Tabitha changed into a pair of jeans and a Kent State T-shirt and matching billed hat. She pulled a pair of wheat Timberland boots on her feet and put her small gold-and-diamond cross around her neck. Next she began to move her totes and luggage downstairs and eventually out onto the front porch. From the porch she began to pack her things in the rear of her Montero Sport.

As Tabitha was carrying a particularly heavy tote to her truck a tall, thin man walked up. He was smiling and plainly dressed in a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and black shoes. On his hands he wore thin baseball batting gloves. A black fitted cap partially hid his eyes, but his smile was pleasant enough despite his brown teeth.

Teddy asked, “Can I help you with that, sister?”

Tabitha started to refuse his help, but the tote was heavy. She smiled back. “Yeah, I could use a hand. I ain't one of them independent-ass girls. I'll let a man help me.”

He laughed at her joke. “Let me get the end of that with you.”

Together they carried the tote to the truck and pushed it inside.

Wiping her forehead, Tabitha said, “I've got a few more things on the porch you can help me with, then I'll hit you wit a few bucks.”

Cheerfully, Teddy said, “Sounds good to me. A brother could use a few bucks to get him something cool to drink.”

They made quick work of loading up the last of her things. As Teddy was carrying the last piece of luggage to her truck, Tabitha stepped inside the foyer and set the burglar alarm. When she stepped back onto the porch, Teddy was at the bottom of the steps waiting.

With her back turned as she locked the door, she asked, “Okay, my brother, what you charging me for using your muscles?”

“Your life,” Teddy answered, as he pulled a .380 from the back pocket of his jeans.

Not sure that she'd heard him correctly, Tabitha turned slowly. “What?”

“You heard me, bitch!” Teddy said nastily. “I said yo life! You can keep yo couple of dollars to pay yo way into hell, bitch!”

Tabitha's eyes bucked at the sight of the gun in her former helper's hand.

“Bitch, yo man is sure hard to catch, but you ain't!” Teddy spit.

“Wh-What man? I ain't got no man.”

Teddy scoffed, “Bitch, get off that bullshit. I know that Solemn Shawn is yo man.”

A tiny ray of hope broke through the clouds. Slightly disillusioned, she allowed herself to believe that if she could convince this man that Shawn wasn't her boyfriend, but her brother, he would put his gun up and walk away.

“You got it wrong!” she pleaded. “Shawn ain't my man, he's my brother!”

The gloating look on Teddy's face disappeared for a second, but it returned just as fast. “That's even better, bitch,” he said as he pulled the trigger.

Tabitha saw the muzzle flash, then a millisecond later she heard the first bang as a slug struck her in the chest and flung her backward into the door. She heard more loud bangs—seven more, to be exact, as more projectiles tunneled into her flesh. Looking down at her Kent State shirt she realized that it had been ruined by the blood and bullet holes.

Damn
, she thought,
I liked this shirt.
She slumped against the door and watched her blood mingle with the broken glass on the porch as she died.

Teddy stuffed his .380 in his back pocket and jogged away down the street.

“R
OCKS RIGHT HERE, MELLOW
,” G
ROVE SAID FROM THE SIDEWALK
to the customer in his late-model Buick that pulled to the curb. “You gotta park that car and get out though, fam. We don't serve no cars.”

The middle-aged man was definitely interested. “I hope it ain't no weak shit or that B12 shit. It's like a baby drought out here. I been driving around this motherfucka all morning. What y'all working with?”

Grove turned his A's hat to the back—a prearranged signal. “We got dimes look like dubs and it's butter, fam. Park that whip and go through the gangway.”

“Cool,” the customer said excitedly. He threw his car into park and climbed out.

In the gangway, Bull was standing with a Ziploc freezer bag half-full of dime bags of crack. “How many?” he rumbled.

“Give me two fat ones,” the customer said gleefully. “I wish I had more cash on me, but my fat-ass stingy wife wouldn't cut loose of the cash station card.”

Bull snatched the twenty dollars from the customer and shoved two dimes into his outstretched hand.

Satisfied with the appearance of his purchase, the customer turned to leave the gangway, but suddenly GCU detectives sprang from all directions.

“Get your fucking hands up!” they shouted as they rushed the frightened man.

The customer promptly popped the two dime bags into his mouth and tried to swallow them. Several GCU detectives responded by choking and pummeling the man until he spit the two bags onto the ground.

Swiftly, they arrested the customer for possession of a controlled substance; his car was towed and he was on his way to jail in a matter of minutes.

As quick and precise as his unit was, Grove still wasn't satisfied. He complained, “Al, you, Torres, and the rest of you motherfuckas better hurry up on the next one. Y'all gone let the whole fucking world know that we here. Shit.”

In a few moments the stage was set again—Grove was trying to catch customers while Bull held the bundle. The other GCU dicks were secreted around the perimeter waiting for another addict to take the bait in their reverse sting.

Several more arrests went off without a hitch before a silver Honda Accord glided to the curb in front of Grove and the passenger-side window rolled down. As Grove stepped closer he felt a blast of cool air from the air conditioner.

“Rocks, homie?” Grove asked.

“Y'all got Apostles' work, dog?” the driver asked.

Grove stooped down to get a look at the driver, but he couldn't get a real good look at his face from his vantage point. “Yeah. Apostles' coke. The best shit on the Southside, fam. We got that sizzle for yo missile. Park yo car, we in the gangway.”

Insane Wayne put the car in park. Simultaneously Grove turned his A's hat to the back, signaling his unit that they had another one on the line. As Insane Wayne slipped from the car, he held his pistol alongside his leg. He walked to the curb and pointed his pistol at Grove's back.

“Gun! Gun!” Torres shouted as the GCU sprang into action.

“What the fuck?” Grove said as he wheeled around to face Insane Wayne.