Payback With Ya Life (6 page)

Doc grunted.

“Get yo’ clumsy ass up! Hurry up, fool!” As soon as Doc stood up Skye tossed him the roll of duct tape. “Tape one arm to the shower rod.” Skye impatiently looked on as Doc, who was bloodied up, fumbled with the tape. As soon as Doc had one arm wrapped up Skye snatched the tape and began taping up the other hand. “You a slow-ass nigga.” Then he bound his ankles together and turned the shower on, making sure the water was cold.

“Where’s the money at?” When Doc wouldn’t answer, Skye busted him in the mouth with the butt of his burner. Doc again grunted in pain. “I bet you’ll speak now. Where the money at? And don’t make me ask again.”

“In the bedroom. Top drawer.” Skye left and found the bedroom. He went to the top drawer and found five stacks.

Oh I know this nigga sittin’ on more than five stacks
, Skye was thinking to himself. He began to tear the room up, flipping the mattress over first, emptying the drawers out and then going through the closet. As he cased the closet he hit a spot on the floor that felt as if it was gonna give. He rocked back and forth on it with his foot.

“Ahhhh, yeah . . . this some slick shit here,” he was saying as he started to rip up the carpet. “Oh yeah, this here is some real slick shit. Gotdamn, money in the bank.” Skye was looking down at twenty-five stacks. He put it in the bag along with the ounces of weed he ran across. Skye ran back into the bathroom where Doc was in and out of consciousness, and shot Doc in his shoulder. “Nigga, that’s for lying to me about yo’ otha stash. Bitch-ass nigga. I’ll catch yo’ ass slippin’ again.”

CHAPTER FIVE

B
ehind dark shades, Sonya and Miss P, two of the leading Memphis gossip queens, sat in the back during Brianna’s funeral doing what they do best: gossiping.

“Umph, this cheap-ass funeral. As many niggas as she was fuckin’ she should have been buried like Princess Di. I just knew she would have more people than this show up,” Sonya whispered to Miss P as they looked around at the sixty-something guests.

“I thought she would have more people than this show up myself. And she should have more flowers than that,” chimed Miss P. “Ooh look. Ain’t that Artie and his wife? Ain’t no way in hell I’ll be comin’ to a bitch’s funeral who was fuckin’ my husband. That’s some crazy shit. It couldn’t be me,” Miss P continued to pop off.

“Girl, me neither.” They watched as Artie and his wife walked up to the closed casket with a bouquet of flowers. As soon as Artie laid the one red rose on Brianna’s casket, Artie’s wife stepped back and kicked her casket so hard it slid over. The entire room gasped. She then began screaming all kinds of obscenities. Artie hauled off and backhanded his wife across the face. That was the only way to shut her up and stop her from disrespecting Brianna’s funeral any further.

“Lawd have mercy!” Brianna’s neighbor Miss Hattie yelled out.

Sonya was giggling and Miss P was mad that she didn’t have a camera phone to have caught the whole thing. Artie was dragging his wife out of the funeral by the back of her neck.

Several men rushed to the casket and began replacing it on the stand.

Brianna’s sister was now up there motioning for more of the funeral workers to clean up the mess. Her mother looked as if she was going to faint. Shan was stunned beyond belief as she leaned over and said in Peanut’s ear, “I can’t believe she did that.”

“B pissed off a lot of people. I thought the shit was rather funny myself,” Peanut told her with a smirk.

“You are so ignorant,” Shan gritted between clenched teeth.

“Look what the cat drug in,” Sonya said, referring to the brother who favored the reggae artist Sean Paul.

Miss P unashamedly craned her neck to get a good look at the brother with the black fedora and dark shades. “It looks like that nigga Nick but I ain’t sure.”

Sonya smacked her lips and whispered, “Gurrrl, it’s him. That nigga got a lot of nerve. Ain’t nobody seen or heard from him since Peanut went to jail. Him and that bitch used to fuck around, but just like every other nigga, the bitch kicked him to the curb too. But Nick is a keeper. I don’t know what that bitch was thinkin’, not holdin’ on to that one.”

Nick nodded at the two ladies as he looked around to see who was in attendance. He fell back, trying to keep a low profile. He didn’t want anybody to recognize him, especially not Peanut, and was glad to see him and Shan sitting way up front. He knew he shouldn’t have come but he just wanted to know for himself: was she really gone? He spotted Brianna’s mother and sister. Even though the crowd was small, Nick noticed a few faces that had decided to show up. The hoes who were there didn’t like or probably didn’t even know Brianna. They knew she fucked with get-money-type niggas, so they were most likely there to pick up her slack. And the niggas in attendance were those who you rarely caught at the club. But you could bet your last dollar they would be at the
Who’s Who
funeral. The fellas were looking sharp, and the ladies were looking even sharper. Instead of a funeral service it was more like a meet-and-greet.

Oh shit
, Nick said to himself as he held his head down to avoid being noticed by Peanut or Shan. He was so into checking out the so-called mourners he wasn’t keeping an eye on the man who, without a doubt, if they were to come within a few feet of each other, somebody was gonna get their wig split. He didn’t know what they were looking at but everyone’s attention was now turned to the young lady who was standing in the middle of the room. Nick used this opportunity to slip out of the funeral without a confrontation. Especially since he had already been recognized by the two broads who had been talking throughout the entire service.

“Fuck this nigga at?” Teraney spat, tossing the cell at Slim. After circling the Med, the only Memphis hospital that served all of the hood folks, for almost thirty minutes and Doc not picking up, they were now expecting the worst as Teraney floored the pedal.

“Born, we lookin’ for Doc. Round all them niggas up,” Slim barked before hanging up and dialing Doc’s number once again. “This nigga Doc better quit playin’. If something happened to the work I’ma do this nigga. Ain’t no room for fuckups.” They rode lost in thought until they came up on Doc’s block.

“Yo, this nigga’s car is parked.” Teraney skidded on the brakes because he had almost passed right by it. They both inspected it and then looked up at the house.

“Shit ain’t right, maine,” Slim said. “Find a spot to park.”

Teraney double-parked and they got out, hands on their pieces, looking around. They checked out the front entrance first and it was locked. They went around the back, stormed up the steps and stopped at the door, which was wide open. Slim, leading the way, flicked on the living room light, and then made it to the kitchen. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

“Bathroom.” Teraney pointed. Slim nodded and led the way. Slim held his hand up when they got to the bathroom and put his ear against the door. They could hear the shower running but no movement. He slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open and saw Doc’s silhouette hanging from the shower. Slim flicked the light on.

“Fuck,” he spat as he put his burner away and pulled out a switchblade. “Check the rest of the crib, Raney.” He turned off the ice-cold shower and cut the tape from around Doc’s wrists.

Teraney came back. “The bedroom is fucked up and of course, I don’t see any signs of the work. Is he gonna be aiight?”

“Fuck if I know. The nigga is shot. Help me lift his heavy ass.” They carried him to the bedroom and wrapped him in several blankets.

“Do you feel a pulse?” Teraney asked.

“He
is
breathing. Get a street doctor over here. The nigga is unconscious and is probably freezing to death. This big-ass lump on his head doesn’t look good and we need to stop this bleeding.”

Briggen was sittin’ in the back of the prison visiting room waiting on his cousin Zeke to come out. He looked at his watch and it was almost one-thirty.
This nigga needs to hurry up. I got shit to do
. Briggen had no clue as to what was so important that Zeke needed him to come up here. The last time he visited was to see his little hardheaded-ass brother, Forever. That’s when he’d found out that Forever was fucking Shan and using her to bring in his dope. Briggen told Forever to leave Shan alone, and that she was his first and he needed to use her. But Forever ignored him and kept on doing him. Forever hadn’t called or reached out to him since. Briggen glanced up, and four inmates were coming through the door. Zeke was leading the way. Briggen stood up and frowned at his smiling cousin.

“Nigga, don’t be smiling at me. What the fuck you got me up here for?”

“Good to see you too, punk!” Zeke grabbed Briggen, pulled him to him and gave him a hug. “Go get a nigga some vittles out them there machines,” Zeke barked and playfully punched Briggen in the chest.

“Maine, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are. Go get the shit yourself.” Briggen pulled out some bills and tossed them at him.

He watched as Zeke came back with an armful of snacks. “Nigga, you still greedy as shit.” He snatched the bottle of Cherry Coke out of Zeke’s hand. “So what’s up? And how’s my hardheaded-ass brother? I have a feeling this is what this visit is about.”

Zeke got comfortable, opened up a bag of potato chips and stuffed them in his mouth. He turned serious. “Man,” he began, “blood is supposed to be thicker than water. And I’m a very loyal muthafucka but I ain’t no damn fool and a nigga still gots to eat. I need to take over this whole operation. We need to make some changes . . . and fast.”

“What the fuck is up? You and Ever been gettin’ money together since y’all was shawties.”

Zeke gobbled up the last of the chips and swallowed the last of Briggen’s Cherry Coke. “Your brother on some shit and it ain’t a good look.”

“What about him? I had an idea he been on some bullshit, since I haven’t heard from him. What’s the bizness?”

“Maine, shit is deep. You know he had shawty bringin’ in that work.”

“Yeah, I know all about that. I put a stop to it.”

“No, you didn’t. Shawty was trying to get her brother’s bond money together and Forever was breaking her off with a little bit of change at a time. She was bringing the shit in long after you said stop.”

“Say what!? Where the fuck he was gettin’ the work from?”

Zeke put his palm up to silence Briggen. “Then Nyla found out and she stepped in and talked Forever into settin’ shawty up. That’s why shawty quit the day she was supposed to make the drop. She didn’t even show. She bounced with the dope and some dough. Now, Forever and Nyla is beefin’ big-time. It’s a whole lot of drama. Ever been trippin’ hard. I need to do my own thang and let him do his. I gotta distance myself. Do me. Bottom line.” Zeke was looking at Briggen, who had on his game face. Zeke couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. Finally Zeke said, “Your brother turned straight snitch, Brig.”

Again, Zeke watched Briggen as his words set in. Zeke wished that things hadn’t gone down the way they did. He hated to be the one to break the bad news . . . but snitchin’? That shit was jeopardizing everything and everybody.

“You ready to hear the rest?” Zeke wanted to get everything off his chest.

Briggen was speechless. Would his own flesh and blood snitch him out? Naw, not Forever. “Give it to me raw, nigga.”

“The reason why he ain’t re-up with you is because he’s using another connect and owes dude mad bucks. From what I’m hearin’ that’s why it has dried up around here, ’cause dude ain’t fuckin’ with Ever no more. Now Forever tryna get in touch with Skinny and dem.”

“Who is the connect that he owe?”

“Some cat named Polow. I don’t know why Ever think he can just straight-up jack niggas for they work. That ain’t like him. But, yo, Brig, you know I don’t trust the nigga no more. He’s too hot.”

Finally Briggen said, “Aiight, fam, thanks for puttin’ me up on what’s happening.” He stood up to leave and gave Zeke some dap. “I gotta dip.”

As he stepped away he turned back around when he heard Zeke call his name. “I’m lettin’ you know now. If I think that nigga is gonna jeopardize you or me, we gonna have some problems. Just let me know the bizness if you want me to handle it.”

He and Briggen locked eyes and then Briggen turned and left.

Everyone was in Doc’s living room. The street doctor had got Doc to the point where he was all right. The bullet came out without a problem and he meticulously dressed both wounds, the one on Doc’s head and the one on his shoulder. He then gave Doc a sedative that he chased down with a pint of vodka and now Doc was pissy drunk and in his bed sleeping like a baby.

“So we all agree that we coppin’ from Janay, right?” Slim asked.

Everyone said yeah.

“So Doc ain’t in charge no more?” Born wanted—needed—to know.

“We’ll vote on it when he’s able to be present. He’s pissy drunk and talkin’ out of his head. Y’all ain’t gonna get no valuable info from him in that condition,” Slim announced and left it at that.

“Fuck that!” Teraney barked. “Wake that nigga up. We lost seven birds.”

“Hell yeah,” Jo Jo agreed. “Born, you and Raney go drag that nigga outta that bed.”

The whole room was in an uproar and they all started moving toward the bedroom. Slim said, “Fuck it.” He got up and went out the front door.