Payback Ain't Enough (19 page)

Oh, so shorty was a ho.

“If you got it like that then why you working at Subway?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” she snapped.

“Sheeit… Show me.”

She came down off the steps and started walking to my car. I followed. She knew what she was doing, switching that big ass, causing me to rub my dick before I even got to my ride. I hit the locks, and she got in the backseat and I followed.

“You got a condom?” She wasted no time.

“Yeah, I got one.”

“Good.” She leaned over and unzipped my jeans. Wasn’t nothing shy about Q. She blew hot air on my dick, and then it disappeared into her mouth. In a matter of seconds, my dick was harder than Chinese arithmetic. She took it out of her mouth.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” I panted.

“Put the condom on.”

I guess I was moving too slow for her. She pulled one out of her pocket, tore it open and rolled it on me. She turned around straddled my legs like a pro and put her back into my chest.

“I like it up the ass,” she purred.

“What?”

She had my dick trying to put it in her asshole. “I like it up the ass. Come on. I gotta get back to work.”

“Naw, Shorty. I don’t get down like that.”

“How you gonna knock something you ain’t tried before?”

“I don’t get down like that!” I grabbed my dick and put it at her pussy.

This slick bitch let the head go in, pops up and I’m back at her asshole.

“Come on, nigga, it’s hot and wet, just like the pussy,” she said as she slid down on my dick. I was stunned. Q was right. The ass was tight and it was wet just like a pussy. I had never felt anything like it. She was bouncing up and down squealing.

I was still in shock. “It’s so wet,” I grunted in disbelief as I grabbed her waist and began to fuck her in the ass.

“I told you,” she screeched as her ass cheeks smashed against my thighs.

“Q! Q!” Somebody had the balls to be banging on my tinted windows. And it wasn’t Cisco.

She stopped her bouncing and froze. “Oh shit! That’s Baby Boy,” she whispered, jumping off my dick and pulling her panties up.

“Who the fuck is Baby Boy?” I was getting agitated, wanting her to jump back on my dick.

“My boyfriend. Well, my ex. Fix yourself up and give me the money. I’ma tell him you my cousin. His dumb ass will go for it.”

“What?” I was fixing my jeans and ready to jump out and crack this nigga’s dome. That ass was feeling good and I hadn’t even busted my nut. And because of that, I wasn’t paying her shit.

Q was already unlocking the door and getting out.

“Q, what the fuck you doing in this car? Why you ain’t in there working?”

“I was talking to my cousin, Dark.”

“Your cousin? Bitch who the fuck you think you bullshittin’? The way the car was jumping up and down, somebody was fuckin’ not talking.” And this little nigga went to kicking my freshly detailed ride. “Get the fuck out, whoever you are!”

“Baby Boy, calm down. You don’t know this nigga. Stop making a scene. This ain’t even necessary. Plus, I have to get back to work,” Q told him.

But instead of the nigga listening to his girl, he started kicking my car again. I grabbed my burner, cocked it and got out.

“Kick my car again, little nigga,” I dared him.

“
Little
nigga? You ain’t the only one packin’.” Li’l dude’s voice wasn’t even deep yet.

Dude was tall, but he was skinny as a rail with a mouth full of platinum. He had to be about eighteen. I guess Q was even younger than that.

“Come on, Baby Boy. I told you he’s my cousin.” She pulled on his arm in an attempt to dead the situation.

Cisco and Jamilla were now rushing over to where we were. When I looked at them Baby Boy rushed me and knocked me up against my car. I hauled off and hit him in the head with my burner. I hit him so hard he fell backwards and onto the ground. But that didn’t stop the fool from getting up and pulling his burner out. He gritted, “You fucked up now, nigga. I was gonna let you walk away.” But he hesitated, and that was the wrong thing to do. I began pistol-whipping him like that dude in
Goodfellas
. Blood was starting to fly everywhere. Cisco finally pulled me off him. I had to do it.
I couldn’t help it. I shot him. Everybody started scattering and yelling.

“Didn’t I tell you these Westside niggas get rowdy?” Cisco reminded me.

Cisco and I jumped into my ride and pulled off.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I couldn’t figure out where to hide my money, but I definitely wasn’t putting my cash in nobody’s bank. I remember overhearing Briggen talking about this dude named Silk, the God of Trap Cars. Why he had to be called the God, I didn’t know. It sounded corny to me. Why couldn’t he simply be the Trap Car Specialist? I did my research and with some serious digging I found his shop. At first he acted as if he didn’t know what I was talking about until I told him who my man was. He then immediately changed his tune, but he still wouldn’t deal with me. He suggested that I get a safe. I didn’t want what was the obvious, a safe. I wanted my riches at my disposal and with me at all times. So what better place for it than my car? I told the Trap God, “Fine. You ain’t the only shop in this town.”

In my digging for that punk Silk, I came across this other shop. What I liked most about the owner was that she didn’t
ask questions. All she wanted to know was, how many traps did I need added to the car and what size? She was my kind of girl. I paid her, and she went to work. No questions asked. Three days later I went back and she gave me a lesson on how to open and close them all. I was amped as I left in my trapped up Mercedes GL450 and headed back home. I couldn’t wait to stash my shit. When I got home I was going to fill my new bitch up… with dough.

I kept looking at my phone. Briggen had been blowing it up, but I didn’t care. The only thing on my mind was getting my shit stashed. And I must say… I was feeling myself. I had two shows coming up and a pocket full of dough.

When I arrived at the house I immediately caught an attitude. Briggen’s truck was parked out front. And somehow, I knew that this wasn’t a social visit, and I was willing to bet that he didn’t have my son. It was strange because I didn’t even miss my man. I went into the house and found him sitting in the den, smoking a blunt and watching TV.

“Why didn’t you bring Anthony with you?” I asked him.

“Because I was already out.”

“Then who’s watching him?”

“Mia has him. Have a seat.” He motioned for the chair in front of him. I sat down. I knew that he wouldn’t leave our son with her if he didn’t trust her. He looked me over as if I was his child and I was about to be in trouble.

“She may have love for you but don’t get it twisted. She has no love for our son, Briggen.”

“Never mind that right now. So what’s up with you?” he asked.

“I’m doing me. That’s all.”

“I see. So, is that where all of this money coming from? You doing you?”

“What money?” I tried to act aloof.

“The money it takes to
do you
. Throwing shows and parties ain’t cheap. You got the venue, you’ve got insurance, you’ve got the entertainment, you’ve got your street team. Not only are you promoting shows, you bought a car. I see the dining-room set. You got shit upstairs that you haven’t even popped the tags off of and you—” He held up his hand counting shit off on his fingers. I quickly cut him off.

“I know what I’ve got, Briggen.”

“So? Where is this money coming from?”

“Between what I won in Vegas and what I borrowed from the bank that’s what I’ve been using.”

This nigga had the nerve to start grinning. “C’mon, Shan. You gonna sit here and actually lie to my face? What bank gave you a loan to put on a concert? The banks are holding on to their cash. So tell me what bank loaned you some money to throw a party?”

“First of all, Briggen. This is my business. Have I asked you for anything? No, so let me do me, okay?” I started to get up. “You know what? You got some nerve. You running around here pushing dope and fucking your star players and now you questioning me? Fuck you! I don’t owe you any explanation. Go ask your bitch how she making her money,” I smirked. “Oh, that’s right, she makes her money by fucking you.”

“I think you need your damn head examined.”

“Yeah, you right, I do. I need it examined for fucking with you.”

He stared at me, and then said, “You know what? You
keep this shit up if you want to. I’ma fix ya helmet for you my damn self.”

“Briggen, leave me alone.”

“You really think your ass is ready for the big leagues? You bringing all of this attention to yourself, and believe me, that shit is a double-edged sword. I hope you can handle it when shit hits the fan. And trust me, it is going to hit.”

“What shit? It’s my money. I can spend it however I want to.”

“And what about this new behavior? I think this pregnancy is fucking with your head,” he had the nerve to tell me.

“What?” I spat.

He stood up. “You heard me. I think you need to go see a doctor. You need to have yourself examined. You are not the same person I hooked up with and married.”

Now it was my turn to grin. “But you are the same person?”

“The man you got with hasn’t changed. No. I haven’t started lying to you, hiding shit from you. Bringing bitches up in the house when you’re not home.”

“You’re right. You haven’t just started lying to me. Your ass has been lying to me all along. The only difference is when I got with you, you said you didn’t hustle anymore. You told me your hands were clean and that they were going to stay clean, and I really believed that shit. But just recently you caught a case. Your ass been lying from day one. Now what else is up? I have a company to run.”

“Come take a ride with me.”

“A ride where? I got shit to do, Briggen.” I just wanted his ass gone. Out of my sight, out of my house.

“To the doctor’s office. Because you have officially lost your goddamn mind.”

“A doctor?” Was this nigga fuckin’ serious?

“You going through something, and you not telling me what and I don’t know what it is, so I don’t know how to fix it. I’m hoping that you will talk to a doctor. I’m worried about you, Shan.”

“Of course I’m going through something. Here it is: For starters, I’m married to you! I got the FBI and shit running up in my house, I have a small child, I’m pregnant and my husband is not who I thought he was; therefore, I’ve been living a lie. Hell yeah, there’s something wrong with me, but that something is you. So go! Get
your
ass checked out.” I paused and looked at him. All I wanted to do was count and stash my newfound wealth.

He had two phones on him and both started ringing. He glanced at one but didn’t answer. Both of them kept ringing and he answered one, which allowed me to dash up the stairs. I needed to make it to my bedroom and lock the door.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I answered the phone.

“I need to put you up on something. Where are you? Can we hook up?”

I looked at my watch, looked around the house for Shan and went into the kitchen.

“Meet me at the bar on Passaic.”

“Aiight. In twenty.”

Lucky for Shan business was calling. Because I sure as hell was going to take her to see a shrink. Shan was hiding somewhere in the house. I was convinced that she was losing her mind. I had seen the same behavior patterns in my aunt Jill.

It seemed the first thing them crazy bitches did was cut their hair off. Then my aunt started taking baths in Evian water. She was buying all of these little-ass bottles and filling up the tub. Then she started wearing a whole bunch of makeup, painting her lips bright red. The next thing I knew, the police were throwing her ass in the back of the paddy wagon and she was stripping in front of them. They hauled her straight to the mental hospital. She let some no-good punk-ass man of hers drive her crazy. I was beginning to believe that for Shan, being pregnant again and missing her brother, was fucking with her mind. I didn’t know. But nothing else made sense. She was an entirely different person.

I went upstairs and stood by the bedroom door. “Shan, I got to go, but I’m going to make you an appointment,” I told her.

“Go to hell, Briggen! Take that bitch Mia to the doctor with you and leave me the fuck alone!” she yelled.

“I’ll be back.”

“I won’t be here,” she screamed.

I left.

WHEN I PULLED UP
in front of Nipsey’s, Nick was still sitting in his ride. I parked in back of him, and he got out and jumped into my truck.

“What’s up?” I asked him.

“You got a problem,” he told me.

“What kind of problem and with who?”

“Cisco. He got jacked for his last package. It was a nice one. But guess who got him?”

“Who?” I really didn’t give a fuck and was wondering why he was telling me this shit.