The Reason Why (30 page)

Pam ran around a chair near their pool table with the thought of grabbing a pool cue, but changed her mind. A cue would have been too easy for him to take away and use on her. Chino continued to rant and rave while Pam danced back and
forth around the pool table to avoid him. Her bare feet made her slide back and forth on top of the smooth ceramic tile.

Tired of chasing Pam, Chino pulled off his shirt to cool down. She could now see the handle of his 9 mm pistol tucked inside his waistband. She became terrified.

Pam had heard rumors of Chino's exploits in the streets. The beauty shop talked, the college-going, wannabe street cats talked, the girls in the mall talked. She knew that Chino was in the streets wilding out, and she didn't want his activities to come back on her. So she'd had her brother buy her a small handgun for protection. He had bought her a chrome Lorcin .38, and loaded it with hollow points. He believed that with such a small caliber, she would need hollow-tip bullets to take out her attacker. She had to take the guy out, he said, or he would beat the shit out of her for shooting him.

“Okay, Chino, stop!” Pam pleaded, breathing heavily.

“Stop playing!”

Chino was growing angrier with each passing moment.

“Stop playing?” Chino shouted. “Naw, bitch, we gon' play! I should have whooped your ass a long time ago. When you was kicking it with that nigga Erik you wasn't worried, you didn't have no fear in your heart. Now you're going to see the real Chino. You're going to see what all them other niggas saw when I told them that I'll be to see them!”

“Chino, no!”

“You want to violate and curse like a man and swing at me like a man, now I'ma treat you like one!”

Pam tried to dart past Chino, but he snatched her by her hair and straight brought her to her knees.

“Chino, baby, please stop!” Pam pleaded. “I quit, I'm sorry.

Let's stop playing!”

Chino pulled tighter. Pam could feel her face tightening and her eyes widening, as her skin was pulled back.

“Chino, please!” Pam cried on her knees.

“No! Say something!” Chino told her. “Talk shit! You always thought that you were better than me, you always thought that you were smarter than me, and that I was just a dumb-ass nigga! You thought that since you was from LeDroit Park that you was better than everybody else! Well, fuck you and your fake-ass family!”

Pam grabbed Chino's wrist, in an attempt to loosen his grip on her hair. She could feel clumps of her hair being pulled out, and a penetrating migraine formed in her forehead.

“Christonos, please, baby, don't do this, let me go!” Pam pleaded. She could feel her legs going numb because of her awkward position on the floor.

“How dare you call me that name!” Chino shouted. He was practically foaming at the mouth because of his anger. “You ain't got it like that no more!”

Fight or flee? Pam knew that she had to decide quickly. Chino's tightening grip on her hair told her that she had to fight. Not with her fist, but with a woman's mind.

“Chino, baby, please don't hurt me,” Pam whimpered. “All I ever wanted, all I ever needed to know was that you loved me. I miss you, Chino. I miss how you used to make love to me.”

Pam began to caress Chino's legs. Slowly, his grip on her hair loosened. Pam rose on her knees and brought her face
close to his groin. “Chino, just hold me again. Make love to me like you used to.”

Chino swallowed hard. He could feel the blood starting to flow to his dick. “Pooh, why you trip like that?”

Pam unzipped Chino's pants and moved her lips to his privates. Chino loosened his belt buckle and tossed his 9 mm from his waistband onto the same seat cushion that was hiding her .38. Once she felt him release her hair completely, she made her move. Pam balled up her fist and punched Chino as hard as she could in his genitals. He fell to the floor in mind-numbing pain, clutching his balls. Pam leaped to her feet and grabbed his gun off the chair. She quickly pulled back the slide, chambering a round.

“Now, muthafucka, who's the bitch?” Pam screamed. “Looks like you're the bitch now, Chino. If only you knew how to control your dick, we wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. I wouldn't have bitches calling the shop, and you wouldn't be creeping out in the middle of the night, and we would be happy!”

Pam placed the gun to the back of Chino's head. “Now muthafucka, what?”

The air grew silent, and Pam glared down at Chino. Fear was not etched into his face, but an intense pain was. It brought back memories. Memories of when Chino had been abducted by a rival crew. He almost had tears in his eyes.

“Chino, I am so sorry!” Pam said, dropping the gun. She fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. “I am so sorry, baby! I remember that night. I wasn't going to hurt you, I promise.”

Pam wiped away her tears and Chino's as well. She hugged him but he didn't hug her back. He gave no response.

“Chino, baby, I am here,” Pam cried out. “Please, what is wrong with us?”

Chino abruptly pushed Pam off him and backhanded her, splitting her lip. He picked up his gun and stood. “How could you put me in that position after what I told you happened to me? I killed those niggas that did that shit to me, and now it's your turn to get what they got. So now you a trick bitch, huh?”

Pam placed one hand on her head and cried. Chino paced back and forth, ranting and raving. He was too busy to notice her sliding her other hand beneath the seat cushion. Pam found her Lorcin .38.

“You're the weak link, Pooh!” Chino shouted. “The only person that knows about them niggas is you. I buried the gun, and only you knew where it was. But I went back and got it and moved it, after I found out about you still creeping with Erik. I can't trust you no more, Pooh. And because I can't trust you, your ass has to go. Have you said your prayers, love?”

Pam panicked. She aimed the gun beneath the pillow at Chino and squeezed the trigger. A loud pop rang out. All Chino saw was feathers flying from the ripped pillow.

“Pooh, where did you get a gun from?” Chino asked, clutching his stomach. He dropped his gun. “Pooh, don't shoot me, just drop the gun.”

Pam threw her gun down. “Oh my God, I'm going to call nine-one-one!”

Chino clasped her arm. “No, calm down and call my boy Darren.”

Pam called Darren, and he was on his way. “Chino, Darren said to hold tight, and that he'll be here in five minutes! Are you okay? Do you want to lie down?”

“Just calm down, Pooh,” Chino told her. “It'll be okay.”

Darren's Jag screeched to a stop in front of the house, and he and Pam helped Chino out to the car.

“I'll drive!” Pam said.

“No, you're too hysterical to drive,” Chino told her. “Besides, they'll arrest you for the shooting. I'm just going to go in and say that I had a little accident.”

Darren and Pam rushed Chino to Mount Carmel East Hospital, while Chino lay in the back applying pressure to his gunshot wound. When they got to the hospital, Darren and Pam carried Chino inside.

“Pooh, go home,” Chino said weakly. “Darren, take her home.”

Darren pushed Pam out the door and made her get into his Jag. The two of them left as the police cars were arriving. Darren reached over and patted Pam on her leg.

“You know, Chino let you go free,” he told her. “That's love, baby girl. That's love.”

A
s he lay in his hospital bed unconscious, Chino's mind took him back to a place he didn't want to go. It took him back to that night; it was the worst night of his life.

Chino walked out of the store with a grocery bag in his hand. He was thinking of the brand-new Lorinser rims that he was going to cop for his Benz. They would be chrome, with a white center and a chrome center cap. It would give his Benz that powdered-out look. White on white, with a white AMG kit. His Benz would be the cleanest whip in Columbus.

Chino set his grocery bag down on the concrete next to his car so that he could fish his key out of his pocket. He was struck so hard over the head with a metal object that he instantly fell unconscious.

Chino woke and peered around the room. The room was full of junk. Chipping paint, spiderwebs, and holes were all over the walls. The scenery told him that he was in an abandoned building. Rats and roaches scampered across the floor, and the floor itself was
missing some boards. The blood running down his neck told him that he had been struck over the head, and his change of scenery told him that he had been driven to a different location. He had been abducted.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” one of his abductors chimed.

Chino shook his head, trying to focus. His head was aching, and his vision was still a little blurry. He could make out that there were at least three of them.

“Wake up, punk-ass nigga!” another one said, slapping him.

Chino came to fully. He recognized them as members of YBI, Young Brothers Incorporated. It was Red, Dirty, and Slick, and they all had pistols in their hands.

Red was a Columbus nigga that he had actually grown up with back in the day. He was a red nigga, with reddish sandy brown hair and a raspy voice. He had dropped out in middle school, and Chino hadn't really seen him since. Dirty was a nigga from the NYC. And he actually resembled Ol' Dirty Bastard. He had gold teeth, a wild afro, and a crazy eye. Slick, on the other hand, was a dirty, funky nigga from California. He had moved to Columbus with his family when he was twelve. Somehow, their three paths had all led them into YBI.

“Stand up!” Red ordered. Chino stood, and Red yanked Chino's clothing off him. “You won't be needing these, pretty boy!”

Dirty punched a naked Chino in his stomach, causing him to fall back down to his knees. “What's up, pretty boy? You up in the club high-capping. Why you ain't celebrating right now?”

“What are you talking about?” Chino asked.

Slick struck him with his pistol. “I'm talking about you high-capping, big baller!”

Chino cried out in pain.

Dirty struck Chino with his pistol, sending blood flying everywhere.

Chino cried out again. “If it's money you want, you can have it. Just let me go.”

“Let you go?” Red asked. “Nigga, they're going to find yo body on the evening news.” He struck Chino again.

“Please, don't kill me,” Chino pleaded. “You can have my car.”

“We got your car,” Slick told him. “We know exactly where to go and get it from.”

“From the bullshit grocery store where we got your ass!” Red said, striking Chino again.

Chino cried out again. He knew that he was going to die. He wanted desperately to make it. He wanted to get back to his Pooh. He would do anything to get back to his love. To lie in her arms again, to have her caress his head. He needed his Pooh now more than ever.

Dirty kicked Chino in his face, and then in his stomach with his enormous hiking boot. Chino spit up blood.

“Don't kill me,” he pleaded weakly.

“Look at this ho ass nigga!” Slick shouted. “He ain't such a big man now!”

Red struck Chino again with his pistol. “Bitch ass nigga!”

“Get on your knees!” Dirty shouted.

Filled with aching pain, Chino rose to his knees. Blood was pouring down his body. Red pulled out his penis and urinated on Chino.

“That's how we feel,” Red told him. “We feel pissed on by niggas like you. Up in the club popping bottles and pulling all the bitches.”

“Man, I ain't pulling no bitches,” Chino told him. “I got one woman.”