Authors: Treasure Hernandez

The Block (14 page)

BOOK: The Block

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When Maine and the rest of the people in the club heard the gunshots, they all quickly ran out the club to see what just went down.

A smile quickly spread across Maine's face when he saw Maxine laid out in the middle of the street. “One down and one more to go,” he said to himself, and he smoothly walked off to his car, feeling good with himself.

Chapter 15

“Damn! That shit was mad good.” Detective Abraham rubbed his stomach, as him and Tom exited the soul food restaurant.

“Yeah, that was pretty good. I must say so myself,” Tom replied, trying to be down. “So what we gonna do about this Ice Cube mufucka?”

“You mean Ice-T,” Detective Abraham corrected him.

“Whatever the fuck his name is, you know who I'm talking about,” Tom said in a drunken slur.

“Well, basically, we about to start running down on him and let him know that we still run shit,” Detective Abraham said. “Harass him a li'l, bust his balls here and there, just to show him who's really in charge.”

“You know I'm down.” Tom slipped a cigarette between his lips. He didn't like black people, so to him it really didn't matter.

“Come on, let's go fuck with some of his peoples right now,” Detective Abraham said as they headed for the car.

Just as Detective Abraham reached the passenger side door, he saw a van pull up alongside the car. Immediately, the back door slid open, and inside he saw a van full of niggas with red flags covering their faces.

Detective Abraham quickly ducked down as he heard about eight to nine different guns going off at the same time. “What the fuck!” he said in a panic, pulling out his .44.

Right after the gunfire ended, and Detective Abraham heard the tires on the van burning rubber as it pulled off. He stood to his feet and walked around the car and saw Tom laid out with about twenty holes in his body. He then turned and looked at the driver's side door, and it looked like Swiss cheese.

“These muthafuckas wanna play,” he said, looking down at Tom's dead bullet-filled body. “I promise, I'ma make them pay for this.”

Serena sat on the couch sipping on some wine, the cordless phone sitting right next to her. Every day Tone called her at the same time. Right on cue, the phone rang, and she picked it up on the second ring. “Hey, baby,” she sang happily.

“What is my sexy-ass woman doing right now?” Tone asked.

Serena could see him smiling through the phone. “Sitting by the phone, waiting for my daddy to call me.”

“Damn! I know you looking sexy, right,” Tone said, licking his lips.

“I'ma take some pictures for you tonight and send them out to you tomorrow.” Serena knew that the smallest thing meant so much in jail, so she planned on doing whatever she had to do to keep her man happy and focused.

“I can't wait. What you getting into today?”

“Well, right now I'm waiting for Maine to swing by and drop off some money. Then I'ma probably go get my hair done.”

“Listen, I don't just want you sitting around the house. Why don't you go out and get some air tonight?”

“Nah, that's not really my flow. I like just chilling. I might go back home next week for a few days and go visit my father and the rest of my family.”

“Sound good to me. Just keep me posted on your whereabouts. Don't just want you sitting around wasting your life 'cause I'm not around.”

“You got it, daddy,” Serena said as she heard the automatic recording say,
“You have one minute remaining.”

“Do what you gotta do, and I'ma holla back tomorrow.”

“Okay, baby, be careful in there. I love you so much!”

“I love you too, baby. I'ma scream at you later,” Tone said, ending the conversation.

As soon as Serena hung up the phone, she heard somebody knocking at her door. “Who is it?” she yelled, walking toward the front door. Serena looked through the peephole and saw Maine standing on the other side of the door.

“Hey, Maine,” she said, stepping to the side so he could enter. “What's up?”

“What's good? How you been?”

“Everything been good. I can't complain.”

“That's what's up.” Maine handed her a book bag. “That's the re-up and y'all's profit in there.”

“Thanks. I'll be sure to let Tone know everything is straight.” Serena peeked inside the book bag.

“A'ight, if you need anything, holla at me.” And Maine turned and headed for the door.

Once Maine left, Serena got dressed and headed out the door. She needed to get her hair, feet, and eyebrows done. Her first stop was the hair salon.

Serena stepped inside the salon, and the first person she saw was Mya. It just so happened that all the other beauticians were already busy with a client.

“You need your hair done?” Mya asked, standing behind her chair.

“Yes, I need my hair done, but I'm telling you right nowâIf you fuck my hair up, we going to have a serious problem!” Serena said, rolling her eyes.

“Girl, sit in this chair. Ain't nobody going to mess up your hair. I'm a professional.”

“I hope so.” Serena sat on the chair.

“So what can I do for you?”

“Just a wash and set.”

“So how is Tone holding up in there?” Mya asked, as she began working on Serena's hair. Even though the two of them weren't still together, she still did care for him and often found herself worrying about him.

“He's fine. Just hanging in there.”

For the rest of the time, the two women just chitchatted and got to know one another. By the time Serena's hair was finished, she had a new friend.

Ice-T stood on the porch of his hangout house just chilling with about fifteen soldiers all wearing something but red. “Damn! It's hot as fuck out here,” he said, removing his shirt and exposing his cut-up abs and all the tattoos that covered his body. He fired up a blunt as he saw Nut and about six soldiers strolling to the porch.

“What's good? How things went out there?” Ice-T asked.

Nut told him, “We dropped one cop and sent a crazy loud message.”

“What about Detective Abraham?” Ice-T asked.

“Bitch-ass nigga went running and hiding behind a car like a scared little bitch.” Nut gave another soldier dap.

“I knew he was a bitch,” Ice-T said, shaking his head. “He try to act up again, and I'ma need you to finish him off, straight up.”

“I got you.” Nut noticed mad police cars pulling up in front of the porch. “Everybody clean?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ice-T replied. “It's just two AK's over there on the side of the porch. One of the soldiers can hold that down, though.” Ice-T watched Detective Abraham lead the pack toward the house.

Detective Abraham yelled, “Everybody down on the ground!”

Ice-T and his crew didn't budge.

“Get on the ground for what?” one of the soldiers asked.

Immediately, Detective Abraham broke his jaw with the butt of his .44. “I said, âEverybody on the fuckin' ground!'” he yelled again, and him and his fellow officers began tossing people on the ground and handcuffing them.

When Detective Abraham reached Ice-T, he lifted him up to his feet so the two could be face to face. “That shit you pulled earlier was real cute.” Detective Abraham smiled. “The only problem is, I'm untouchable.” He head-butted Ice-T in his face then kneed him in his nuts.

Detective Abraham smiled as he watched Ice-T melt to the ground in pain. “I see I'ma have to teach you young punks some damn respect,” he said, stomping on Ice-T's head like he was a roach.

Afterwards he grabbed Ice-T by his legs and dragged him off the porch and all the way to the squad car by his feet.

“Put this piece of shit in the car and hold him downtown until I fuckin' get there!” Detective Abraham ordered.

Gruff got off the bus and looked at his watch. He knew something was wrong because Maxine was never late, no matter what. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number. Straight to voice mail. He tried again, only to get the same result.

“Fuck!” he cursed loudly as he quickly flagged down a cab.

He paid the cab driver and got out in front of the run-down motel where she last said she would be staying while he was gone. He pulled out one of his 9s and kicked open the room door. He stepped inside and turned on the lights. He scanned the entire room before putting away his 9. Gruff looked around and saw Maxine's .357 sitting on the dresser. Immediately he knew she was dead, 'cause she never left her favorite gun just sitting around, unless she was only gonna be gone for a little while.

“Muthafuckas!” Gruff said loudly. He didn't know who did what, but he definitely was about to find out.

Gruff pulled up in front of the corner store, where about eight guys stood. They looked like they was selling something. Gruff took one last pull of his cigarette, flicked it out the window, cocked back one of his 9s, and slid out the car. He walked up on the curb and fired two shots. His two targets dropped to the ground holding their leg, and the rest of the men ran for their lives.

Gruff walked right up to the first man and placed the barrel to his forehead. “Who killed Maxine?” he growled.

“Huh?”

The last thing the man heard was the sound of Gruff's 9 blasting. He immediately moved on to the next man. “Who killed Maxine?”

“I don't know no Maxine. Please don't killâ”

Gruff pulled the triggerâ
Boom!
âand walked back to his car and drove off like nothing ever happened. He didn't know who had killed his partner, but he was damn sure going to find out.

Two days later Ice-T and his crew were finally released.

“Hey, daddy,” one of his girls said as he slid in the passenger seat of the truck.

“Take me home,” Ice-T said in an angry tone.

The chick wanted to ask him was he all right, but she decided to just keep her mouth shut and do as she was told.

As soon as Ice-T walked in his house, he walked straight over to the phone and placed a hit on Detective Abraham. “Muthafucka think he can just do shit any ol' kinda way. He got another thing coming,” he said out loud. Detective Abraham had just messed with the wrong one.

“Tell my man what you just told me,” Harlem said, putting the fiend on the spot in front of Young Mike.

“I heard through the grapevine that Gruff out here looking for the person who killed his lady friend,” Malcolm reported.

“Who the fuck told you that shit?” Young Mike asked, not believing the drug addict standing in front of him.

“I was in the store trying to steal some potato chips when I heard a few shots go off,” Malcolm said. “I ran to the door and peeked out and saw him ask one of the guys who killed his friend, and when the man told him he didn't know, he blew his head off right there in front of the store.”

“Nigga, you sure?” Young Mike asked again. He knew fiends would say just about anything for a hit.

“Positive, my brother,” Malcolm replied. “Now is y'all gon' hook me up or what?”

Young Mike reached down in his pocket and handed the fiend a ten-dollar bill. “Now get the fuck outta here!” He gave Malcolm a shove 'cause he wasn't walking fast enough.

“You believe that nigga?” Harlem asked.

“Shit! I don't know what to believe,” Young Mike said. “Just be on point, just in case.”

“You know I stay strapped,” Harlem said, reminding his friend how he got down. “That fiend was probably lying anyway.”

“He probably was, but what if he wasn't?”

“Whatever. I'm about to go get high. You rollin'?” Harlem asked.

BOOK: The Block

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