“I’m on my way over there.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Syncere did it.”
“Did what?”
“I just found he’s involved with Mark getting killed.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Because when he was in the shower this morning, I went through his Sidekick to see if he had any text messages from any chicks, and that’s when I ran across an old message he had received the same night you and Mark got shot.”
“What did the text message say?” I asked as my heart sunk into the pit of my stomach.
“It said, ‘Squad leader was with his broad, so we had to plug both of them. We got his heat, jewels and his dough, so holla at me when you want me to make the drop off.’”
“Oh, my God!” I said out loud. “We gotta call the police.”
“I know, but what are we going to tell ’em?”
“We gon’ tell them that, that muthafucka’ had my man killed,” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
“But, we have no proof.”
“Where’s his Sidekick?”
“He has it.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,’ cause I’ma call the police anyway. Ain’t no way I’m gon’ let that bastard walk the streets as a free man after today.”
“Will you wait until I get there?”
“You better hurry up.”
“I am. So give me about thirty minutes. ‘Cause I’m way out here in Newport News.”
“Well, I’m going to jump in the shower, so you better come on.”
“Okay,” she replied and then we both hung up.
Here I am pissed off once again, but hurt more or less about knowing Syncere is the one who had Mark killed. So what am I going to do? How are we going to prove the allegations? We have no murder weapon nor a motive, as the police would say. Our best bet is to get that T-Mobile away from him, which will be very hard to do. But I’ll figure something out. I owe him at least that.
Anyway I got undressed and hopped in the shower because my body needed it badly. The hot water piercing the tender parts of my muscles felt great, so I took my time and bathed every inch of my body.
Now when I was done, I turned off the water and flung back the shower curtain. And there standing before me was a man pointing his gun directly at me. I wanted to scream.
But before I could let out a single cry, he said, “I’m warning you, don’t scream!”
“Okay,” I said with my hands partially covering my mouth.
“Here, take this,” the guy told me as he handed me a newspaper clipping.
Hearing this man tell me that this article was about Russ made me want to read it. And there it was, typed in black on the Washington Post’s Metro section, about an execution style murder of a Russell Hastings, who was found in his bed at one o’clock in the morning, shot in the head three times. Police have no suspects at this time.
“This is Russ?” I asked the guy.
“Yes. That’s him.”
“So, can I ask you why you got that gun pointed at me?
“Because, my job is not finished.”
“What do you mean?” I began to stutter, trying to figure out what was this man talking about.
“I heard you talking on the phone about calling the police. And that’s not good.”
“But it was for something else,” I began to plead.
“I heard you. And you were talking about your husband’s murder.”
“No. I wasn’t. I swear.”
“Now, why are you lying to me? When I already heard everything you said.”
“Listen, it’s not what you think. I promise you that I wasn’t talking about my husband’s murder. I could care less about that muthafucka.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. Because you took money from Papi.”
“But I didn’t ask for it. He just gave it to me.”
“But you took it. And when you did that, that let him know that you’re weak and you can be bought at any price. So now you got to go, too.”
“But wait!” I screamed, because I wanted to explain myself. But it was too late. He had already pulled the trigger. That meant that my life as we know it was running on empty as my soul began to emerge from my body.
Table of Contents
Unnamed
Unnamed
Dedication
Acknowledgements
It Ain’t Over
Choice to Make
After Mail Call
Three Days Later
The Jump Off
Digging Up Old Feelings
All or Nothing
Ten Minutes Later
Getting My Swagger On
Gettin’ it Popping
Playing My Position
Anything 4 Profit
Hoes Galore
Haters Will Hate
Nothin’s 4-Ever
Changing Da Game
Back at the Jail
Pieces of the Pie
Mixing Shit Up
Purple Haze
Taking it to Da Streets
Turning up Da Heat
The Antidote
Game Over
Table of Contents
Unnamed
Unnamed
Dedication
Acknowledgements
It Ain’t Over
Choice to Make
Three Days Later
The Jump Off
A Few Minutes Later
Digging Up Old Feelings
All or Nothing
Ten Minutes Later
Getting My Swagger On
Gettin’ it Popping
Playing My Position
Anything 4 Profit
Hoes Galore
Haters Will Hate
Nothin’s 4-Ever
Changing Da Game
Back at the Jail
Pieces of the Pie
Mixing Shit Up
Purple Haze
Taking it to Da Streets
Turning up Da Heat
The Antidote
Game Over