Chapter Fourteen
Don't Take It Personal ... Then Again, Please Do
I hadn't heard from Poetry in a week, so I figured our relationship was a wrap. I'd been keeping up with my plans, and that was to find a way to catch Raylo slipping. That, I did. For the past two nights, I'd been following his every move. He'd bought himself a new Cadillac, I assumed with the money I had given to G. I'd seen him, too. He and Raylo had met up at a house on the south side with two white females. One was the woman I'd known as Peaches, and the other I had never seen before. I guessed she was Mama's replacement.
Either way, they'd had a routine going on. One that I had been following very well, and when I drove by earlier, I saw Raylo drop one of the women off. I knew he'd be coming back for her later, and if G was with him, I would kill two birds with one stone. Four, if the ladies didn't wish to cooperate.
Deciding to tie up my loose ends, around 7:00
P.M.
I went over to the liquor store to holla at Nate. I had to make somebody aware of what was going down, just in case things didn't go according to my plan.
“I really wish you wouldn't go through with this, Prince, and if there is anything that I can say or do to stop you, tell me what it is. The fact that the police was able to find the knife that killed your mama says to me that an arrest may be comin' soon. Why don't you wait to see how all of this will play out before you do anything ?”
“I don't have faith in the police to do anything, and since I suspect they are on G's payroll like many drug dealers are, I doubt that anything will be done. Besides, I need to get this off my chest and it's the only way I know how to. I'm gon' lay low for a while. I need you to keep the laundromat and liquor store goin' for me, because I'll need the money. I'll give you whatever you want, just be sure to take care of this for me.”
“You know I will,” he said, taking a moment to pause and feeling the need to lecture me. “A long time ago, I was young and had an attitude like you too. Couldn't nobody tell me nothin', so I'm done tryin' to stop you from doin' what you gon' do. Just be careful and call me when you make it to your destination.”
“I will,” I said, slamming my hand against his. “In a minute.”
Nate pulled me in for a tight hug, then patted my back. “You're really goin' to go through with this, aren't you?”
“Yes. I have to do this for Mama.”
Nate rubbed his chin, shaking his head. “I can't let you do this, Prince. I wish you would have told me a long time ago that G's real name is Geronimo. He and I go way back. Did some time together in prison, but had a small beef while we were in there. We still speak to each other, though, and even though I can't believe I'm saying this to you right now, especially after all of that bullshit I just said, I can't let you go through this alone. Let me make a few phone calls, and if you want your man, I'll bring him to you.”
“Nate, don't play. I hope this ain't some kind of joke you're playin', just so I don't go through with this. The only way it's not goin' to happen is if you kill me right now. I'm not sure if you want to do that, so just let me be.”
Nate paced the floor and sighed. “This is no joke.” He looked at his watch. “Give me about an hour. Go home, take a load off, and wait until I call you. When I do, I'll be talkin' in riddles and shit, but that'll be my cue for you to come back over. Use your key to get in and you'll be able to say whatever you want to to G. After that, we'll go from there.”
“I ... I really don't want to put you in the middle of this, Nate. I know you're tryin' to keep your life on the right path and that's why I didn't want to tell you about what was goin' on, because I didn't want to involve you in my mess. Every time I involve somebody they get hurt. Trust me, I got this.”
Nate grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it. “I know you got it, and I got your back too. So, go over to your apartment like I told you to and wait for my call.”
A tiny part of me was skeptical, only because G had set me up and so had Raylo. I trusted Nate with everything that I owned, but at the end of the day, black men were known for snaking real bad. I had to keep that in the back of my mind, and as I crossed over the street to go into my apartment, I tried not to think about Nate being on that level. I had been crossed too many times before, and when my boy Cedric had set me the hell up that day, it lead to something I never thought I'd have to deal with. I stood with my hands in my pockets, leaning against the building and thinking about the day I would always remember as the biggest betrayal of my life.
Cedric and I had just left a pizza joint that day, where we had entertained some girls from high school and had played some video games. I was walking with him to the car I had purchased for him, truly feeling as if he was the only friend I had in Romeo's absence. We slammed hands together, and as he got on his way, I opened the door to my car, only to be approached by a brotha dark as midnight, asking if I had a light.
“Nah, bruh,” I said, gazing into his sneaky eyes. I knew what a thief in the night looked like, but before I could open my car door, he made a move. He pulled out a shiny blade, holding it to my throat. My arm was being twisted behind my back and the way he held it caused severe pain to shoot up my arm.
“Up your wallet and empty yo' pockets, nigga! If you make a false move, I'll cut yo' gotdamn throat!”
The blade was pinching my neck, so I was careful not to trip. I reached in my pocket, then dropped my wallet on the ground. He dug in my pockets, and put the wad of money I had into his pocket. He then punched me in my stomach, tearing up my gut with powerful blows. I fell to the ground, and all I could feel were the soldier marks he was delivering to my body. I could barely move, and my body was starting to feel numb. I shielded my face with my hands, but as he kept stomping me, my face and hands bounced against the concrete. Lying there helpless, I saw the nigga open my car door and check my car.
The first place he looked was underneath my seat. Moments later, he came out with the bag of money I'd kept underneath there. He opened the glove compartment, and inside of there he found my platinum chain. I was so afraid that he'd see my silencer underneath the passenger's seat, but his head jerked up when he heard a man ask if I needed some help.
“Yessss,” I strained with blood gushing from my mouth. The brotha jumped out of the car, and just for the hell of it, he kicked his foot that was laced up with green and white Air Jordans right in my face. It felt like my neck had been separated from my body, and all I heard were his footsteps running away. I rolled on my back, staring up at the dark sky. I had no idea how badly I was hurt, but the man rushed over to help me.
“I'm going inside to call 911. Hang in there, brotha,” he said.
In no way did I want the police on the scene. I had my silencer in the car, and finding that alone would send me to jail. I eased up, tightly gripping my midsection. Slowly making my way to my feet, I sat in my car, trying to get myself together. I could feel what my face looked like, and I used my shirt to wipe down it. A whole lot of blood covered my shirt and my face burned like hell; not as much as my stomach was burning but, unfortunately, I wasn't up to visiting no doctor.
I had a gut feeling about this shit, a feeling that led me to Cedric's house. I parked down his street, waiting to see if he showed. His car wasn't there yet, but I knew it would soon come. I slid down in my seat, resting my head against the window. I was hurting so bad, and I hoped like hell that my suspicions didn't pan out to be true.
Almost an hour later, Cedric pulled in front of his house. He went inside, but nearly twenty minutes after that, another car pulled up. There were two niggas inside, and after the driver blew the horn, Cedric came outside. The first thing I saw when the driver stepped out of the car was his green and white Air Jordans. Something horrible went through me, and this was why I didn't like hanging with a bunch of fake-ass niggas. Cedric had set my ass up good, or so he thought. He was gon' pay for this shit. He and his friends sat outside for a minute, smoking a blunt and laughing. I actually saw dude describing how he stomped my ass on the ground and he laughed hard as he must have been describing his final blow to my face. He slapped hands with Cedric, and with the joint dangling from the ol' boy's mouth, I saw him count out some money, putting it into Cedric's hand. Afterward, Cedric put up his fist and hurried inside. The other two fellas got in the car and drove off.
Knowing exactly how much was stolen from me, I was down to less than a hundred Gs. They took the bulk of my money, as I really hadn't been spending much at all. I should have known better than to keep my money underneath the seat. I thought it was tucked away pretty good. The rest was at home in my closet, but I really didn't feel safe with it being there. The landlord had a key to get inside whenever he wanted to, and there really was no other place that I could keep it. Mama's house was not an option, and as much as she snooped around, I was sure she would find it. For now, I intended to leave the rest of my money exactly where it was, and never again would I keep that much money on me.
Fifteen minutes had gone by, and that was when I called Cedric.
“Say, man,” I said in a soft tone.
“Who dis?”
“Prince. It's Prince.”
“What's up, bro?”
“After you left the pizza joint, I got robbed. Ol' boy fucked me up, Ced, and I'm at my mama's house right now. She gon' take me to the hospital, but I need you to do somethin' for me.”
“I will, but are you okay? I mean, how bad are your injuries? You talkin' about goin' to the hospital and you soundin' like you on your last breath.”
“I feel like it too, but, uh, that nigga got me for almost two hundred grand,” I lied. “I saw him dump some of it in the dumpster behind the pizza joint. Maybe he was hidin' it from somebody, but see if it's still there for me. I can't even move right now, and I feel like my ribs are cracked.”
“Damn, Prince, that shit fucked up. I'll go check it out for you, and if it's there, you know I got you. We gon' find out who that nigga was, so don't worry about it right now. Be well and I'll get at you later about the money.”
“Thanks, bruh. Thanks.”
I hung up, knowing that Cedric would be leaving, thinking he'd got swindled by his friends. Sure enough, he left his house, flying to get to the dumpster behind the pizza joint. I followed several car lengths behind him, and watched as he parked beside the dumpster. His head was down, and as he was searching through the dumpster, I started his way in my car. My bright lights were beaming, and I could see him squinting. He put his hand over his eyes to shield the brightness. But, by then, my silencer was already out of the window. I fired off one shot that instantly dropped him. Just to be sure that he was hit, I slowly got out of the car, pumping more shots into his chest and busting it wide open.
After that day, I felt as if no one could be trusted. I didn't want, nor did I need, any so-called friends. All I could think was Nate better not cross me, and God help him if he did.
I went upstairs to my apartment, closed the door, and tossed my keys on the table. I started to lift some weights to occupy the time, but I could only do so much lifting. I wanted so badly to call Poetry, but I was in no mood to listen to her tell me what I should or should not be doing. I missed her already and I hated that I had brought her into something that I wasn't ready for. Even so, the phone was still in my hand. I punched a few numbers, only to hit the end button shortly thereafter.
I stood, pacing the floor and cracking my knuckles. I wondered how Nate was going to get G in my sights, and what I would do when I was finally face-to-face with him. Did the money even matter to me anymore? I regretted not telling Nate about G sooner, as this could have been done and over with a long time ago. But now it seemed as if the opportunity was about to present itself, and I was ready. I rubbed my hands together, and finally took a seat on the couch. My cell phone was on the table, and all I did was stare at it, waiting for it to ring.
Almost like clockwork, a little over an hour later, my cell phone rang. It was Nate.
“Ay, man. I got G here with your package. He wants ten grand for it, and unless you got it, don't waste his time. Meet me at my apartment and he'll be here until you get here. And you already know the rules. Don't bring nobody with you.”
“On my way.”
I popped up from my seat, checking my Glock again, making sure there were enough bullets inside. There were, so I tucked the gun down inside of my pants. I made my way across the street to Nate's apartment, already seeing the sign on the liquor store that said it was closed. I used my key to open his door in the back, then slowly walked up the red painted wooden stairs that took me to the upper level. The old steps creaked and I had my hand on my gun, careful, just in case this was another setup. I could hear G and Nate talking, laughing a few times, and then someone coughed. When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw the back of G standing against the kitchen counter. A leather brown jacket was tightened around all that fat and his beard was even more rugged. Thick fat bulged on the back of his neck and his bald head had plenty of dents. I could have taken him out right then and there, but I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to tell me that, for a fact, Raylo was my man. There was little doubt, but I just wanted to be sure.