Authors: Shareef Jaudon
“Everybody still in?” I opened my arms.
The room got quiet as everyone digested the news. My mind was
made up, but I couldn’t do the job solo, so the green light had to be flipped on by them.
“Fuck that crew.” Sway leaned back in the easy chair.
“There ain’t no competition…we’re the best.” Peck finally sat down.
“The more the merrier.” Sabrina added with a smile.
“Dallas?” I looked over at her pretty face. “You in?”
She smacked her lips. “Sway said it best…fuck
‘em. Let’s get paid.”
“You good bro?” Sabrina pointed a lazy finger at me.
I folded my arms across my wide chest and cocked my head to the side. “Come on now…who you talkin’ to? I stay ready so…”
“SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO GET READY!” They all said in unison cutting my words short.
I had to laugh at the choir as they sang my custom phrase out loud.
I felt
kind of weird these days. Since birth I’d been on my own, but now I was about to commit to a partner for life. That was heavy for a man like me coming from where I came from. I never did anything unless I was completely sure…and I was sure about Dallas becoming my wife. I knew people didn’t really care for her, like both of my mom’s for instance. And Angelique would drive right by her if she saw her walking on the side of the road in a hurricane. But for me she was it. I loved her…simple and plain.
Planning a wedding would have to wait
though. I had a robbery to organize first. And unlike in the past, I had competition. Don’t get it twisted, I wasn’t feeling weird about that shit at all. My confidence was as strong as onion scented cologne. And besides, who in the world could make me come in last? The answer to that question was Tyce. Me that’s who. I was the only person that could make me lose…and I hated losing.
Lately
Angelique and I weren’t really on friendly terms. She was hot with me over the whole engagement and I understood why. If I was in her shoes, I wouldn’t like the shit either, but she really had no one to blame but herself. I would have asked her the question all women want to hear…
if
she hadn’t decided to get some unauthorized dick. Angelique and I had the kind of relationship where we could actually bring in other people as long as we talked about it first. Shit, I had brought the waitress from that Chinese restaurant into our bedroom. However, I stayed within the boundaries of our relationship even with outside pussy. Why the fuck couldn’t she do the same? Why go behind my back with the shit? True enough, I would have laughed if she brought punk ass Thad into the mix, but at least I could give her credit for being straight up.
I just hope she had cooled off enoug
h to consider joining me on the job. I needed her on this one. I had to have all of my soldiers to pull it off. Angelique was a part of my plan and I needed everyone hard down with their boots laced up if we were going to pull this one off.
The inside of the storage container smelled like old damp bus seats. Light from the outside world beamed through jagged holes created by ancient rust
spots all over the abandoned relic. It was dim and chilly, and the middle aged man dangling from a metal beam in the ceiling was shivering uncontrollably. The cold sweat and shakes weren’t caused by frigid temperatures but rather a deep fear of the man circling slowly around him like a panther. The prisoner watched helplessly with his bare feet hovering above the coarse metallic floor.
“13-6-1-17, i
sn’t that what you told me yesterday Mark?”
The sound of heavy footsteps
echoed in the hollowness.
“Jax
, I swear I didn’t lie to you. I I I have a lot of safes…I must have just confused the numbers.” His eyes widened.
Jax stopped directly in front of his prisoners’ tense face
as he held a gun along his thigh.
“I forgive you Mark. We all get a lil
’ confused sometimes.” Jax smiled in the gloom. “But, jus’ so we don’t have any more confusion…let me clear your head for you.”
“I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you! Please put the gun
down!” Mark shouted his pleas.
The frantic appeal
fell on deaf ears as Jax put the barrel against Marks flat spray tanned forehead and pulled the trigger. The sharp sound reverberated off the walls as Marks head jerked back sharply.
“Fuck!
Fuck! Huhnn! Huhnn! Oh my God! Oh my God!” Mark was in a breathless state of shock.
“Relax fool.
Its jus’ a BB gun, but the shit still hurts like a muthafucka don’t it? Of course I can’t kill you cuz then how would I get the right combination to your safe? But, if you lie to me again I’ll replace the gun I’m holdin’ with a more grown up version. A 45 caliber Glock to be exact with very real bullets that will blow the back of your head off. Don’t test me. I will kill you and go ask your Botox addicted wife if she knows the combo to the safe.”
A bigger gun suddenly appeared in Jax
’s left hand and he put the new barrel right next to the metal pebble lodged deep in Marks perspiring forehead. Fresh blood oozed downward and disappeared into the thick hairs of Mark’s dark eyebrow.
“Now, this is the last time I’m gonna ask you…what is the combination to your safe?”
“15-2-8-12! 15-2-8-12!” Spit flew from his dry mouth.
Jax nodded his head. “Thank you very much for being honest Mark.”
BANG!!!!
“
Shoulda said that yesterday you lying muthafucka.”
Marks dead body swayed gently back and forth. Seconds later Jax
walked out of the darkness of the large crypt and into the bright sunshine. He hiked through weeds and low brush as he climbed up the hill toward his car. His hand went into the pocket of his sweat shirt to retrieve a small remote. As he approached the waiting van, an explosion thundered behind his wide frame causing fire and smoke to shoot in every direction. Mark’s body was blown into thousands of bloody chunky pieces with each one being flame broiled to a crisp.
Jax cleared his throat as he got in the passenger side of the
waiting van and closed the door. He looked casually over at his buff driver and grinned.
“15-2-8-12, n
ow let’s go see if ole Marky Mark told the truth.”
I went from sleeping in my cozy bed next to Dallas, to sitting in my usual chair getting my hair cut by my favorite barber Malik. I had on a fresh pair of lime green limited edition
Jordan’s, black shorts, and a fitted white T-shirt that accented my muscular physique. It was ten o’clock in the morning and the first order of business was to get my head tight before I went to see Khari and Angelique.
“What’s good Tyce? How ya back feelin’?” Malik pumped up the hydraulic chair.
“It’s gettin’ better. I’m not in physical therapy anymore. I’m jus’ workin’ out at home. I gotta keep the weight kinda light at times to bouild the muscles back up, but overall it’s cool.”
“That’s good to hear bro. We were all pullin’ for you when we heard the news. I can’t believe that weak ass nigga Roman shot you in the fuckin’ back like a bitch. Some niggas jus’ can’t take an ass whoopin’ and move on
. Naw, they gotta shoot a nigga cuz they can’t fuckin’ fight.” Malik spun the chair around to face me. “But yo, somebody fucked that dude up. He dead, but you wouldn’t know shit about that would you?” Malik whispered his question.
I cracked a sly grin and shook my head. “Naw, I
wouldn’t know shit about that.”
Malik slapped his thigh and smiled. “You a wild boy Tyce.
That’s why I fuck with you.”
Malik knew
that I was lying. Everybody knew I took Roman out, but everybody also knew that he deserved it. Hood justice was cold, but it was fair. Roman had a lot of enemies, however, none as deadly as me. Knowing I killed him and proving I killed him were two entirely different things.
As my barber started to cut my hair the topic of conversation switched to the all-time favorite hood debate. The whole shop chimed
in and barbers as well as customers chipped in their two cents on whether Tupac or Biggie was the best rapper of all time. People shouted their arguments for both artists, but I shut shit down before I left. I told them Tupac was the best…period. I sited the fact that he was more versatile than Biggie. Biggie was tight with the lyrics no doubt, but Tupac did it all. He made you dance and think at the same time. You can’t be named the best rapper of all time if you didn’t use your gift to address social issues in the hood. Rapping about money and bitches is cool, but to leave an impression that lasts a lifetime you have to touch people’s heart. Tupac did that better than anybody.
I stepped
inside my freshly waxed Range and lit a clove cigarette before I pulled off from the Crenshaw curb. The window was cracked to let the smoke out and the AC was blasting to keep me cool in the hot sun. The heated rap discussion made me want to hear my favorite rapper. So, as I made my way to Angelique’s house the song So Many Tears blasted from my custom stereo speakers. Damn, I loved that song!
I sang along with Pac. “Back in elementary I thrived on misery. Left me alone I grew up
amongst a dying breed. Inside my mind couldn’t find a place to rest. Until I got that thug life tatted on my chest. Tell me can you feel me. I’m not livin’ in the past, you wanna last, be the first to blast.” I nodded my head to bass line as I drove down the street. “Say that shit Pac!” I looked at my gun riding with me on the passenger seat and smiled.
Three more songs later, I pulled up in front of Angelique’s
condo. To my surprise, I spotted her and Khari walking back from the mail boxes. The two of them looked beautiful strolling together. Angelique with papers in one hand and my daughter’s petite hand in the other. The sight of them made my heart smile. I took a long look before I got out to greet them.
“Hello ladies. Don’t you two look good today.” I looked down at Khari as she smiled up at me. “I swear that lil
’ girl looks jus’ like me.” I pointed to my chest looking at Angelique.
I was shocked when she actually chuckled at my humor.
I was expecting the worse.
“That’s cuz you’re her daddy.” Angelique raised her arched eyebrow.
“Yeah, I couldn’t deny that if I wanted to. She got my eyes, nose, and complexion. She has your little ass ears though. And she’s beautiful…jus’ like you.” I walked up closer and met them on the wide sidewalk.
My ex-girlfriend shook her head in agreement as the sun
accented the natural glow of her moist skin. Damn, she looked good. I mean, she wasn’t wearing anything special. No fancy dress, or professional make up. Her basic outfit consisted of purple stretch pants and a T-shirt.
“
Damn, you look delicious.” I admitted.
I bent down and scooped Khari up in my arms.
“Thank you. You look nice too. I see you jus’ came from the barber shop.” Angelique pointed a polished finger at me. “Did you get your hair cut jus’ to come see me?”
“What?” My thick eyebrows dipped.
“You heard me. Did you stop to get your hair cut jus’ so you would look fresh before you came to see me? I didn’t stutter boy.”
“Is this the outfit I bought Khari? I thought it might be too big
, but I see she’s filling it out. She’s gettin’ big…and heavy.” I kissed her plump cheek.
Angelique shook her head and sucked her teeth. “Don’t t
ry to change the subject Tyce. Answer the question.”
“Oh, here you go.” I pulled out a thick envelope stuffed with cash.
“Thank you.” She took the child support money from me casually. “You’re a trip. You’re jus’ gonna act like I’m speakin’ Chinese. That’s cool, you ain’t gotta admit it, but I know the deal. You tryna look all extra sexy for me.”
Instead of confirming her suspicions with a yes or no…I offered her a smile instead. One of the side effects of being involved in a
long term relationship with somebody was the fact that they can tell when you’re lying.
“I always look extra sexy. But ay, I didn’t come here to talk about my hair. I came to give you some money and talk to you about somethin’.”
“Let’s go over there in the shade.” She started walking toward a large tree. “It’s hot out here already.”
Once
we relocated to a cooler spot Angelique got right down to business.
“So wasup? If you c
ame here to talk about Dallas, your engagement, or anything like that…I don’t have time for it. I said what I had to say already.” She swept a lock of hair away from her forehead.
“Naw naw naw, I didn’t come for that.” I paused briefly to gather my thoughts. “I need to talk to you about
some business.”
“Business huh? Are you doin’ another job?”
She put a hand on her hip.
“Yeah, and I need your help on this one.”
“Tyce, I’m raising our daughter. I don’t wanna get involved in any craziness. That’s your thing.”
“I’m not askin’ you to be on site. I would never have you dodging bullets on an actual robbery. I need your management skills. I want you to play a support role…that’s
all. I need your technical talent.”