“I'm home now, B. Get use to me being around, my dude,” Tito said, looking Pop up and down like he was a child.
“You all talk, but no action,” Pop shot back calmly and not backing down.
“Yo, I said that's enough, we all on the same fuckin' team.” Fresh paused before he continued. “We all going to the club tonight to have a good time. I don't want to hear no more shit out of you two,” he warned.
“Yo, Fresh, I'm just going to meet you at the club, I'm about to head that way now,” Pop said, walking out of the warehouse.
Once Pop was gone Tito started up again. “Yo, Fresh, why you fuckin with these young chumps? He ain't no soldier.”
“Don't judge a book by its coverâthat kid is more of a soldier then you think,” Fresh assured him.
“Yeah, Pop ain't no punk. He be getting it in,” Rusty added.
“Well, I ain't convinced,” Tito responded, being the stubborn bull that he was. “He's going to have to make a believer out of me because honestly I don't see it in him.” Tito busted out laughing as he poured himself another drink. In all reality he was jealous of Pop; he hated that a younger hustler had taken his spot while he was away. Tito didn't know how but he planned on getting his position back one way or another.
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“I should of popped that nigga,” Pop said out loud. “I knew he was going to throw on the fake tough-guy routine,” he said as he felt his Nextel vibrating. When he looked at his caller ID he saw that it was Fresh.
“What's good?” Pop asked very uninterested.
“You a'ight, my nigga?” Fresh asked.
“Yeah, I'm good,” Pop answered quickly.
“Don't worry about Tito. He's just happy to be home and a little overexcited,” Fresh said, explaining his man's behavior.
“I see, but Fresh, you know I don't be with all that talking shit. Make sure you let that fool know that before I have to lay my hands on that boy,” Pop said harshly.
“I got you, baby. I'm going to take care of it. We 'bout to head to the club now,” Fresh said, hearing the anger in Pop's voice.
“A'ight, I'll see y'all inside,” Pop said, closing his Nextel. For the rest of the ride, all Pop could do was think about Tito. He hated the fact that he couldn't put his hands on the Dominican. He felt as if Tito was challenging him and Pop just couldn't see himself bowing down; something inside of him just wouldn't let him. As Pop pulled up in front of the club, he noticed it was hundreds of people crowded around the front as usual. He was about to place his 9 mm in the glove compartment, but his instinct told him to keep it on his waist.
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“Where the fuck is Fresh at?” Amanda asked, ready to kill him.
“He' s at the club, he sent Rusty to give me the money to bail you out,” Melissa stated plainly.
“This mu'fucka got a lot of fuckin' nerves,” Amanda said, trying to hold in her tears. “Take me to the fuckin' club, I need to talk to this mu'fucka,” she demanded from the passenger side of the car.
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When Pop stepped inside the club, it was jumping from wall to wall as usual. He headed straight for the bar, so he could get his mind right and scope out who was in the club. “Yo, let me get a bottle of Grey Goose,” he yelled over the blasting music to the cute bartender. After a little flirting Pop headed straight toward the VIP section with his bottle in hand so he could sit down and just chill for a minute.
Ten minutes later, Fresh, Tito, Rusty, and the rest of the crew came strolling over to the VIP section. Pop paid them no mind as he focused on Nika and her girlfriend entering the club.
Nika wore a tight-fitting red skirt along with her red hooker boots that came up to her knees. As good as Nika looked, Pop knew what his plans were when they got back home.
Instantly, his heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Melissa and Amanda headed toward the VIP section. “What the fuck are they doing here?” Pop wondered. “I hope Melissa and Nika don't bump into each other,” he said to himself, looking a little nervous.
“So you just going to leave a bitch for dead like that?” Amanda snarled, getting all up in Fresh' s face.
“Why don't you go home and get you some rest,” Fresh shot back, turning his back to her.
“Don't you turn your back on me, mu'fucka,” Amanda yelled as she grabbed Fresh' s wrist and spun him back around.
“Listen, bitch, nobody told you to run out the fuckin' house in a thunderstorm,” Fresh said strongly.
“Fuck you, you heartless bastard,” she growled as she grabbed a drink from off the table and tossed it in Fresh' s face.
Rusty immediately grabbed Amanda and began to escort her out of the club. He didn't want to hurt Amanda because she was like family, but his job was to protect Fresh, and that's what he was going to do.
“You gonna get yours, mu'fucka!” Amanda yelled over her shoulder as she, Melissa, and Rusty disappeared into the crowd.
“Them Spanish bitches is crazy,” Fresh said, feeling embarrassed as he dried himself off with a napkin, feeling like a sucker. Pop continued to mind his business as he got drunk by himself. The whole club went crazy when 50 Cent's new song came blaring through the speakers.
Pop stood over on the couch with his head down while the liquor took its effect. When Pop looked up he saw Tito all up in Nika's face. At first he thought the liquor was fuckin' with his mind, but as he did a double-take he realized he wasn't bugging.
“What' s good, baby, what' s your name?” Tito slurred, smelling like liquor.
“I don't have a name!” Nika responded, uninterested.
“Ma, stop stunting you know you feeling the God,” Tito said, grabbing Nika' s hand.
“Get ya fuckin' hands off of me, my man!” Nika said, jerking her hand away. “Beat it, you bum-ass nigga,” she said as she and her girlfriend busted out laughing.
“Bitch, you ain't shit but a fuckin' gold digger anyway, but I'll tell you what you can do, you can kiss my ass with your tongue, you fuckin' slut!” Tito capped back, ready to slap both of the women without thinking twice.
“Yo, what's good? Is there a problem over here?” Pop asked, showing up right on time.
“Yeah, this thirsty bum-ass nigga is harassing me,” Nika said, pointing at Tito.
“Harassing you?” Tito echoed, looking at Nika like she was insane. “Ma, you can't be serious. My worst slide look better than you on her worst day.”
“Yo, this my shorty right here, so back off, a'ight?” Pop said, looking Tito dead in his eyes.
“Nigga, ain't nobody trying to talk to your little dirty-ass bitch,” Tito said, not even thinking about backing down. “You need to step your bitch game up, my geez 'cause this right here,” he said pointing at Nika, “this is not a good look!” Tito said as he burst out laughing.
It took everything inside Pop to control his temper and not pistol-whip the Dominican. Tito saw the look on Pop's face and reacted.
“What's good? You wanna get it poppin'?” the Dominican said, always ready for action.
“Come on let's go,” Nika said as she pulled Pop by his wrist, leading him out the club before things got out of hand.
“That's right, you better leave, mu'fucka!” Tito yelled. “And take that wack-ass bitch with you.”
Pop checked the magazine on his 9 mm as soon as he stepped outside.
“I'm going to pop that nigga when he comes outside.”
“He's not even worth it,” Nika said, taking the gun and placing it in her purse. “You got way more to lose than that clown,” she added, trying to calm Pop down.
“Yo, let's be out,” Pop said as he noticed an unmarked car cruising slowly in their direction.
“Excuse me,” a voice from inside the car yelled.
When Pop looked he couldn't believe who it was. The Chinese detective hopped out the unmarked car with his gun already drawn.
“Let me see those hands, buddy,” he warned.
“We didn't even do nothing,” Nika said, rolling her eyes at the Chinese man.
“Put your hands behind your back,” the detective said aiming his .357 at Pop's chest.
“Chill out, Jet Li,” Pop said, doing as he was told. Once the Detective handcuffed Pop, he thoroughly searched him, upset that he didn't find a weapon. He roughly threw him up against the unmarked car before he tossed him in the backseat.
“What's the charge? 'cause this is bullshit,” Nika said rudely.
“Ma'am, your boyfriend assaulted his own mother earlierânow back off before I take you in with him,” the man said seriously.
Nika quickly remembered the 9 mm that she had in her purse and passed her purse to her girlfriend, who was just standing around being a witness.
“All you cops are dirty, always fuckin' with black people, you Chinese mu'fucka,” Nika spat as she watched the Chinese detective drive away with her man. As soon as the unmarked car was out of eyesight, Nika quickly ran to the corner and flagged down a cab so she could go home and get some money to bail her man out.
“So beating up on women must make you feel like a real tough guy, huh?” the Chinese detective asked, looking at Pop through his rearview mirror. Pop sucked his teeth at the Chinese man and continued to look out the window. He knew he would be out in a couple of hours, if that.
“Shut the fuck up and just drive,” Pop huffed, shaking his head.
“The truth hurts, doesn't it?” The Chinese detective laughed, still looking at Pop through the rearview mirror.
“What the fuck you keep looking at?” Pop growled as he slid down and began kicking the fence in the detective's car. The Chinese detective quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road.
“You think you tough guy, huh?” The Chinese detective chuckled as he removed his night stick from underneath his seat and slid out the vehicle. He quickly walked to the back of the car and snatched open the back.
“Yo, what you doing?” Pop yelled in a panic as he began kicking his feet to keep the detective off of him. The Chinese detective caught Pop' s leg as he was trying to kick and violently snatched him out the backseat of the car onto the concrete.
“Didn't I tell you to stop fuckin' with me?” the Chinese detective scolded as he beat Pop with the night stick like he was an animal.
“Fuckin' animal,” the Chinese detective yelled as he roughly tossed Pop back in the car. “I can't stand you stupid-ass thugs,” he huffed as got back in the driver's seat and continued on to the station.
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“Yo, come with me outside for a second, I feel like I'm about to throw up,” Rusty said, leaning on Bernard's shoulder for support.
“Damn, you that fucked-up?” Bernard laughed as he help escort Rusty through the club toward the exit.
Fresh watched Rusty and Bernard exit the club and all he could do was shake his head. He liked Bernard but he didn't like him enough to sit in a jail cell for the rest of his life.
“Oh, well,” Fresh said out loud as he noticed Tito coming his way with a frown on his face. “What's wrong now?” Fresh asked, draping his arm around Tito.
“I don't like Pop,” Tito huffed. “He ain't built for this business and I think you should let me take him out.”
Fresh chuckled lightly. “Chill, Pop is good money. Trust me, once y'all get to know each other y'all going to get along fine.”
“Nah, fuck all that chill shit,” Tito huffed, waving Fresh off. “I got a gut feeling and you know my gut is never wrong.”
“Listen, Tito, you just came home. Just chill out for a minute, you still on your jail shit. You home now, my nigga, leave that jail mentality shit in jail 'cause out here I'm gonna need you clear-minded,” Fresh told him.
“Nah, I'm just sayingâ”
“Fuck what you saying,” Fresh said, cutting Tito off. “Y'all my two best soldiers and I can't have y'all out here beefing and shit, so just chill the fuck out, if it's that serious you two just stay away from one another unless it's business, you dig?”
“Yeah, I hear you,” Tito said, still feeling a little salty about the situation, but he played it cool because everything Fresh was saying was right.
“Remember, we do this to make money, we don't do this for bragging rights,” Fresh said, refilling his glass along with Tito's
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“Damn, I feel like shit,” Rusty said hunched over by the curb still faking like he was sick. When he saw Bernard pull out his cell phone to make a call, he slowly removed a .380 from his waistband.