Authors: Erick Gray

Love and a Gangsta (8 page)

BOOK: Love and a Gangsta

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If you aren’t changing.
Then you aren’t growing…

Omar

It was ten minutes after five when we arrived home the next afternoon. America took off another day from work. It didn’t sit right with her going back to work the day after we had gotten married. She called her job and extended her time-off until Tuesday.

We were having a great time, breakfast in our hotel room, then touring the city via a nice long horse and carriage ride through Central Park. It was like our teenage years all over again.

As we walked toward the building, a 545 BMW rolling down Merrick Blvd on chrome rims, made a quick U-turn, coming back our way. The sudden change in direction of the car caught our attention.

“You know who it is?” I asked.

“No,” America answered.

The silver Beemer stopped a few feet from us and three doors flew open. I was mentally getting ready for whatever. But it was Omega, my cousin Greasy and another young dude jumped out and started my way. I smiled.

“You been home almost a week now, and your ass couldn’t come check your man…?” Omega smiled greeting me with open arms.

“Y’all rolling on a nigga like we got beef,” I joked.

“What’s good my nigga? It’s good to have you home,” Omega said as we rocked back and forth, hugging each other.

“Indeed, my nigga. It feels good to be back,” I returned.

I looked over at my wild ass cousin, smiled and asked, “Yo, Greasy… where da fuck my car at?”

“You know Greasy crashed that back in 03. I had some bitch giving me head in the front seat on the Belt and she had some strong jaws,” he laughed.

“Greasy, your weak ass owe me,” I said.

My cousin smiled, gave me dap and hugged me. “Yo cuz, I missed you, man. I’m glad you home, my nigga,” he said.

“Y’all niggas looking fly,” I said checking out their gear.

“Soul, I’m telling you, money’s getting great out here,” Omega said.

Omega sported an official Mitchell and Ness; Reggie White’s
Philadelphia Eagles throw back jersey, dark jeans, fresh tan Timbs and a thick, lengthy platinum chain. He had a giant multi stoned diamond eagle pendant. Diamond stud earrings were in both his ears and diamond pinky ring on his finger, blinging with no care.

Greasy wore Evisu denim suit, tan Timbs and leather Yankee cap. The amount of jewelry he had on made him look like a rap superstar. He was flossing a limited edition rainbow Tourbillion watch.

“Y’all niggas are making me look bad indeed,” I laughed.

Even youngin sported Evisu jeans, red wife-beater and a long thick diamond chain around his neck. A platinum bracelet was frosty on his wrist.

“Biz is booming out here, Soul. Ain’t shit change.” Omega smiled.

“I feel you,” I said giving him dap.

“What you got planned, my nigga?” Omega asked.

I looked at America, and then everyone suddenly noticed America and Greasy was the first to speak. “Hey America, you looking good as always.”

America shot him the wicked stare and sighed.

“Damn, Soul, what’s wrong with wifey? Why she grilling Greasy like-like she police or sump’n? America ain’t got love for Greasy? We damn-near fam.”

“Chill nigga,” I countered.

“Ahight, you know Greasy was just joking wit’ y’all,” he smiled apologetically.

“Soul take a ride, ya heard?” Omega suggested.

“Yeah Soul, it’ll be just like old times. You know…? Riding baggin’ bitches getting our heads pop…” Greasy stopped realizing that America was still in our presence. “You know how we do?”

“Omar, may I have private minute please?” America asked, tugging on my arm.

“Give me a minute,” I said to the old crew.

“Ahight,” Omega said. He and the crew walked away.

“What’s up, boo?” I asked.

“I know you’re not thinking about leaving with them. We just got married. I took off from work. Today is still our day,” she said, sounding angry.

“True indeed, boo.”

“Well tell ’em to leave so we can finish with our honeymoon.”

I sighed as America continued when she saw me looking reluctant.

“Omar, where were they when you were upstate? Not one of ’em went to see you. And I know you’re not trying to get into the same shit that you were locked up for, right? I’m your wife now, so please take me serious. I love you. You start messing around with your cousin and Omega again, and you’re gonna soon end up back where you just fucking came from. We’re a family now. So start thinking like my husband.”

“Indeed boo, I know. But listen, I’m a man, too. And you gotta trust my decision. You can’t baby-sit me twenty-four, seven. I know where you’re coming from, but there ain’t gonna be no trouble.”

“You right, you’re a grown man and you’re gonna do you regardless. I love you. But if you’re serious about changing your ways like you say you are, then you need to change the company around you. And them over there,” she paused looking directly at my old crew. “They are not gonna do anything, but bring you down.”

I smiled, shaking my head and thinking.

“Baby,” I said after a while. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

She kissed me and walked away.

“It looked like you need permission from the warden, huh Soul?” Greasy laughed.

“Fuck you, Greasy.”

“C’mon, let’s be out,” Omega said, motioning for me to get in the car.

“Nah, some other time for me,” I said.

“You ain’t comin’ Soul?” Greasy asked.

“Not today, I got plans.”

“That bitch seen you all fuckin’ week since you been out… Fuck her!” Greasy snapped.

“Greasy, watch your mouth,” I warned.

He sucked his teeth and looked at Omega.

“We came to scoop you, put you up on things. Let niggas know you’s back. What’s really good, my nigga?” Omega asked.

“Fo’ real fuck that corny style nigga, and let’s just be out fo’ real,” the youngin with them hollered.

“You know me lil’ nigga?” I asked, glaring at him.

“Nigga, you don’t fucking know me!” he retorted threateningly.

“Biscuit chill… You talking to my nigga here,” Omega warned.

The look on Biscuit’s face said he didn’t approve of what Omega just said, but fell back and started minding his fuckin’ business like he needed to do. There was something about him that I didn’t like. He just rubbed me the wrong way.

“I hope prison ain’t change you, ya heard me, Soul?”

“Mega, I’m still me. Believe that. I’ve been away from pussy, money, and my home four years now. Y’all niggas was eating while I was listening to ’em crackers upstate, like I was Kunta Kinte. America held me down. So don’t step to me like I’m some off-brand nigga. I’m still Soul out this bitch. I can still put any nigga on his ass like it was still yesterday.”

Omega looked at me for a minute, smiled then he said, “Ahight, my nigga. I thought you went soft on me fo’ a minute. Had a nigga worried…ya heard?”

“Mega, Soul a fuckin’ gangsta. That shit stays in our blood,” Greasy laughed.

“Do you, my nigga. But we gotta link up and talk real soon. Don’t leave me hangin, ya heard, Soul,” Omega said, giving me dap.

“Indeed, we gonna link up, Mega. You got my word on that,” I assured.

“Ahight, holla then,” Omega said embracing me. “And welcome home, my nigga. When you ready to get this money again wit’ your boy, you know where I’m at. Ya heard me?”

“I’m still mad that you’re blowing us off right now, but Greasy understands. You still runnin’ a marathon on that pussy, when you finish with America, come holla at you niggas,” Greasy said giving me dap and a hug.

“Indeed…”

They all got back in the ride. Before Biscuit jumped in, our eyes locked for a moment. A chuckle escaped my lips. This little nigga probably popped off a few shots around the way and trying to step to me. I felt like
bursting his fuckin’ bubble.

The flashy Beemer disappeared down Merrick Blvd. Rahmel was right. When you first come home, everyone thinks it’s the old you. Time stands still for no man. Only you have the ability to change what they think about you by your actions.

His seething thoughts causing distraught.
His mind burns as the world turns...

Omega

“Yo, Mega, we on the ten o clock news baby. Fo’ real, fo’ real,” Biscuit shouted excitedly like a kid at the playground. He came running through the door, disturbing me. The nigga ain’t had no manners and just turned on the fuckin’ television even though I was chillin’ with a shorty.

“What the fuck?” I shouted.

“We primetime, fo’ real, yo,” he said.

He turned to UPN 9 news, and there it was, 107th and 155th looking lit up like Christmas. There were police cars, camera crews and the coroners van doing work. I watched with Donna butt-ass naked next to me. She ain’t give a fuck about Biscuit being in the room, the bitch was open like that.

“Mega listen…”

“Four bodies were found in Jamaica, Queens,”
the reporter stated
. “Police are now investigating what seems to be a drug hit of four black males found shot to death on the first floor of this home behind me. But what makes this case so much more shocking, is that in the backyard of this home, they have found two dogs beaten to death. It seems the suspects came into this place of residents through the back door to carry out their attack. Police have no suspects at this time, but believe the time of death of these victims occurred a little more than forty-eight hours ago. Homicide detectives had secured the crime scene, which is still fresh, and also paramedics were called to the scene to check to see if these persons were still alive and they were not found to be alive. Police are releasing no details on the cause of death at this moment and are still investigating. But once again, four bodies were found shot to death at this home not too long ago…”

“You see that, Mega… We famous. We caught four bodies in one killin’, fo’ real. I bet you Tiny watchin’ this shit right now, and shittin’ in his fuckin’ pants.” Biscuit laughed.

“Yo, shut the fuck up! Ya heard?” I shouted.

“Fo’ real, that’s the first time I saw one of my murders on TV like that,” he continued.

I jumped out of bed still naked and quickly grabbed the nigga by his T-shirt and pushed him against the wall with force that opened up his eyes in
alarm. “Yo, what I say, shut the fuck up about it,” I said scolding his juvenile ass.

“My bad, Mega.”

This nigga, talking ‘bout murders in front of a bitch, I warned him before to keep his mouth shut. I didn’t care who Donna was bitches just talk too fucking much.

I dragged Biscuit into the hallway. “Wha’ I told you about talkin’ business in the open like that, ‘specially round some bitch. You get too muthafuckin’ hype and your mouth start running like a bitch on her fuckin’ period. Ya heard me?”

“It’s my bad. You know how I be?”

“Yeah, I know… Put that shit in check. Ya heard me, Biscuit?”

“I will, Mega. Fo’ real, I will.”

I let him lose and just looked at the nigga. “Go somewhere, nigga. I don’t even wanna see you right now.”

Biscuit was a good dude, but had a lot to learn. He was young and still inexperienced. I had to smile when he stepped to Soul the other day. The nigga got heart, but Soul would put him flat on his ass. I walked back to the bedroom and Donna was sprawled out with her tits exposed, channel surfing.

“Everything’s okay?” she asked.

“Get dressed,” I ordered.

“I thought we were chillin’? I got all comfortable and shit.”

“Bitch, you ain’t hear me? Do I gotta repeat myself?” I threatened.

She sighed, hopped out of bed, reached for her jeans and quickly put them on. I got dressed.

Half-hour later we were driving toward the Belt parkway. Just looking at her sexy ass, squirming around in the passenger seat got my dick hard.

“Yo, do me this special favor,” I smiled, unbuttoning my jeans.

Unhooking her seatbelt, Donna leaned over in my lap. She pulled out my dick and wrapped her sweet thick lips around it, sucking me off. One hand gripped the steering wheel. The other was tangled in her hair forcing her head further down.

“Hmm… Hmm,” I moaned, going fast on the Belt parkway.

I exited at Erskine and drove to Fountain Ave, parked under the bridge. Donna stopped sucking my dick, looked around and asked, “Why did you stop here?”

“I gotta meet up with some peoples… Just put your fuckin’ head back in my lap and don’t stop sucking ‘till I say you can, ya heard me?”

I reclined and watched Donna’s head bobbing up and down.

“I’m ah… Ugh ah…” I said grasping her hair tightly as my dick swelled in her mouth. A few more sucks and I exploded inside her mouth. She swallowed as semen still dripped from her lips. I firmly held her head positioned in my lap for a short moment. Soon after that, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a truck rolling up behind us.

“You done?” she asked, looking unsatisfied.

“Yeah, you did good,” I smiled.

Monk and Tank got out the truck and were walking toward my ride. Donna uneasily, wiped her mouth and began straightening herself up. Tank quickly opened the passenger door and pulled Donna out the ride.

“Omega, what did I do? Please, don’t do this to me, baby,” she pleaded, screaming as Monk and Tank yanked her out.

She fell to the ground. Tank’s swift, hard kick landed against her side. As she screamed, Tank pointed the .9mm with the silencer down at her and fired two shots into her dome. By the time I got out the truck, the bitch was dead.

“Yo wrap that up and put her in the back of your truck,” I ordered.

“What the bitch did?” Monk asked.

“She heard too much,” I said.

BOOK: Love and a Gangsta

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