Outside of E’s house, Skinny sat in the passenger’s seat of the green Maxima, arms crossed, foot flopping wildly in irritation. “Baby, why every time you go to the afterhours I get all kind of messages from hoes telling me ‘bout what you doing?” Like her body language, the high-pitched tone gave away her high level of frustration.
Annoyed by her childish behavior, Richard swatted the statement away, like a black fly buzzing around his head. “Baby, fuck them hoes,” still staring out the windshield from the driver’s side seat. “Look, I’m gone let Balle take you home and bring the car back to E. A’ight.”
A strongly pronounced pout crossed Skinny’s lips. “I want some dick before you start your day, Daddy.” She knew she sounded like a spoiled little child, but she didn’t care. “Ain’t no telling when you coming home when you on them pills.”
Richard knew how Skinny could be when it came to loving, but he also knew that nothing could come in the way of making money, not even their favorite past time. Trying to appease her, he said, “Look, when E come out the room with Bay-Bay, I’m gone given you want you want. But I can’t leave here. I’m waiting on somebody to come.” He looked over to check her expression. Seeing it had softened a little, he hoped she could take the next bit of news. “I ain’t gone lie though, baby. I might be in the streets for about a week, but when I come home, we gone shack up, a’ight?”
The news severed Skinny’s last thread of patience. She knew how Richard could lose track of time when he was high, and she wasn’t willing to wait another two hours while he handled the exchange with White Boy. Reaching across the console, she grabbed for Richard’s zipper. “Boy, you know what, let me see my dick. Go ‘head and pull him out.” She tugged furiously at his pants. “I ain’t taking no for an answer. I’ll rip your pants off.”
Richard pushed her hands away playfully. “A’ight baby, hold up.” A grin played on his lips as he rolled down the driver’s side window. “Ay, Son-Son! Come out and get me out the back yard when White Boy get here!”
A smirk crossed Lil’ B’s face as he watched Richard and Skinny exit the car. He already knew why Richard needed him to watch for White Boy. He also knew that it had been Skinny’s idea. “I gotcha, Paw,” adding playfully, “What? Ma can’t wait?”
Richard laughed as he and Skinny rounded the side of the building, Skinny already clawing at his clothes. Richard placed his hands underneath her bottom and lifted her off the ground. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her hands clasped behind his neck, and Richard carried her the rest of the way.
The moment they reached the backyard, Skinny let go and dropped to her knees. Like a cougar pouncing on its prey, she already had his pants undone and his bulging penis in her mouth.
Richard released a small moan. “Damn baby girl, you miss your Daddy that much?” slightly leaning his hips into her wet mouth.
“Mmhmmm,” she replied, mouth still full of erect flesh. The throaty sound more closely resembled a moan than an answer.
Placing his hands on the back of her head, he pushed her lips closer to the base of his shaft. His hips rocked with the rhythm of her head as she continued to moan in ecstasy, each moan more climactic than the previous; she was the only woman Richard had ever known to orgasm while giving head. He carefully timed her moans, waiting until she sounded like she might reach her peak, and then abruptly pulled her head away.
Gasping for air and still hungry, Skinny stood up; a flood of wetness gushed between her legs. Richard lifted her feet off the ground, pushing her skirt up as she wrapped her legs around his bare waist.
Grinding her pelvis into his, she buried her face his neck. “Baby, fuck it!” overcome with love and desire, “Let’s make a baby right here in E back yard.”
Richard pulled his head back, gazed into her eyes, “That’s what you want?” he asked.
Biting her lip, she broke Richard’s gaze and considered the weight of her comment. She couldn’t think of a single reason why they shouldn’t have a baby. A small smile pulled on the corners of her mouth as she nodded. “Yeah. I ain’t trying to make you do it,” her voice breathy. “I want you to want it.”
“A’ight. Let’s do it then,” he nodded in agreement. “I love you too much to pass on this.” Pinning her against the side of E’s house, the two melded together into one. Bouncing up and down on his waist, clawing at his back, Skinny erupted into a dizzying climactic spin first. Richard picked up the pace, thrusting harder, pushing her quickly to a second climax. She attempted to muffle her screams of elation with the fabric of his shirt, but failed miserably. Her heightened moans pushed him towards his own climax. He swelled and erupted inside of her. His seed spilled into her and overflowed, dripping down the inner parts of her thigh. Exhausted but fulfilled, they held each other for a moment longer.
“I love you baby,” Skinny said, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.
Richard met her eyes and kissed her deeply before replying, “I love you too.”
***
“How many pills we got left, Brah?” Richard asked. They were driving down Eighteenth Avenue to pick up money from Richard’s trap.
“Only a hundred and twenty, Brah,” E answered. “Them bitches move faster than coke, crack and weed put together.”
Richard did the math in his head. Something seemed off. “I know, but from that, we only supposed to make twelve g back. We just counted fifteen and we still got pills left.”
Bobbing his head to the Lil’ Wayne song playing over the radio, E smiled. “Yeah, I knew I gots to tell you something, Brah. That hoe Joy been calling me off the chain to buy up all kind of pills.”
Making the connection in his head, Richard glanced over at E. “How much you been selling them to her for?”
A smirk crossed E’s face. “Ten dollars.” Richard’s arched eyebrow encouraged E to continue. His smirk now spread into a full gold-toothed grin. “Shit, she ain’t nobody. So she don’t get the homeboy discount.”
Richard belted out a laugh, “Brah! You crazy as fuck!” punching E’s shoulder jokingly, “She supposed to pay six dollars.” E joined Richard’s laughter and the two exchanged daps.
“Ay, how much Richmond got to give to us?” Richard asked as they neared their destination.
“Six hundred dollars.”
A pleased look covered Richard’s face. “That nigga been eating off us, Brah. He sold ‘bout seven hundred pills this week alone!”
“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?”
“Yeah that is,” Richard agreed. “Cause Big Brah only sold like…”
“Man, what the fuck they doing?” E asked, cutting Richard off mid-sentence. Both men leaned forward to take a better survey of the situation in front of them.
“What it look like, they robbing Richmond trap,” Richard said, slowing the car down. “I tell you what, the choppa still in the trunk, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gone get that and come from behind the store, a’ight?” Richard said, turning the corner, just past the barbershop. They now sat at the back of the convenience store. “Here, get this glock and make sho’ they don’t get away if I miss one,” he ordered, handing the glock to E as he threw open the driver’s side door.
Already halfway out of the car, E extended his arm and took the gun. “I got ya, Brah.”
“Y’all fucking niggas lay down, talking ‘bout how Eighteenth Ave can’t get robbed,” one of the gunman taunted, a sadistic sneer on his face. “What I’m doing right now? Robbing y’all bitch ass niggas.”
Watching the rear view mirror nervously, a man hollered at the robber standing outside of the convenience store, “Man, you talking too long! Get the money and shit and let’s go!”
“Man, shut yo’ soft ass up!” the second robber yelled back over his shoulder.
Man, these niggas need to come on before they get us killed. Between the barbershop and the playhouse, the driver saw a man approaching. Before he could yell, gunshots filled the air. Instinctively, his foot slammed on the gas pedal. Tires screeching, he looked back in his rearview at the bloody scene now behind him.
“Bro!” Hit that LD up!” Richard yelled. E shot for the back of the driver’s head as he ran towards the car, but he was too far out of range. He could still hear the ring of gunshots behind him as he yanked the driver’s side door open and fired up the ignition.
Tires screeched as E pulled up just feet in front of Richard. Running for the passenger side door, he yelled over his shoulder to the crowd now gathered outside the shop, “Y’all niggas don’t touch shit! Leave it the way it is for the police. Tell them they were robbing.”
“That nigga getting away!” Richard yelled as he threw himself into the passenger side seat of the already moving car.
With Richard now safely in the car, E slammed his foot down on the accelerator. “I think I saw that shit to Seventy-First Street.”
Speeding down the street, surrounded by screeching brakes and honking horns, Richard suddenly spotted the car. “There that shit go, right there!” Aiming the chopper out the window, Richard shot at the car in front of them.
The getaway driver pleaded aloud to himself, “Please don’t let these niggas kill me! Please, God, please!” as he swerved in and out of traffic, trying to lose the car behind him.
E pulled into the wrong lane of traffic, speeding through the oncoming cars. Richard shot off three more rounds as they neared the tail end of the getaway car. A loud pop and screeching tire confirmed his hit.
“I got him, Bro!” Richard yelled. “Slow this shit down before we run into Sixth Ave.”
His calf felt like it was on fire. Man! This shit hot! He looked down at his now crimson colored pants, trying to quickly assess the damage. “What the fuck?”
WAHHH! WAHHHH!
His head snapped in the direction of the sound, just in time to see the grill of an eighteen-wheeler plowing into the side of his car.
Richard slammed on the brakes just before reaching the intersection. The car turned a hundred and eighty degrees before coming to a screeching halt, dust and smoke flying up, enveloping the car. Throwing the doors open, Richard and E charged at the mangled mess in front of them.
The driver to the semi was already out, trying to pry open the door and failing. Frantically, he looked around for any sign of help. Seeing two men approaching, he yelled, “Hey! Come help...” With the men closer, he could see the guns in their hands. “Man, please don’t kill me,” his hands up in the air. They raised their guns. He held his breath. Gunfire pierced his ears and he started to cry. Spittle spewed from his lips as big, warm tears streamed down his face.
The gunfire stopped suddenly. The sound, replaced by a loud screeching of tires. Slowly, he opened his eyes, ears still ringing from the massacre that had just taken place. Unsure of whether or not he was still alive, he looked around. The men were gone. They had left nothing more than black tire marks, clouds of dust and gun smoke, a dead body and one sole survivor that had witnessed it all.
***
In the living room of E’s apartment, lyrics to a Lil’ Wayne song played. The television was on, but no one was really listening. E’s and Richard’s pupils were noticeably dilated, and E was gnawing a hole in his right inner cheek.
“Ay E! Cut that shit down bro!” Richard had just seen a crashed eighteen-wheeler on the right hand screen of the television. Above it, a banner read “Up Next.”He pointed to the television. “Look at the news!”
“What you talking about? What happened?” E made his way into the living room, walked over and turned the radio down. “Cut the T.V. up, Bro.”
“…Reporting to you live from a robbery turned homicide on Eighteenth Avenue and Sixty-Sixth Street in Liberty City.” The camera panned on the store behind the female reporter. “Witnesses say that two men allegedly attempted to rob this store, but before they could enter the building, two other men reportedly shot the robbers, killing them instantly. Leaving the gruesome scene behind them, the men then jumped into a 2005 white Ford Mustang, and chased down the robbery’s getaway driver. Police arrived on the scene to see find the getaway driver dead with multiple gunshot wounds to his body, his vehicle overturned by an eighteen-wheeler. Reportedly, the driver of the eighteen-wheeler passed out on impact. No other witnesses have reported on what may have happened here last night. If you have any information regarding this case, please call the Miami Dade…”
Richard cut the television off with the push of a button. “That’s us, Bro!”
“Yeah, that’s us,” E replied with a worried frown. This hadn’t been the first time E had killed someone, but it was the first time that one of his murders had received news coverage. He wasn’t thrilled about the idea, nor was he fond of calling prison his home anytime in the near future. Thinking back to the Lil’ Wayne lyrics that had just been playing, E couldn’t help but feel that somehow, the rapper had an influence on Richard’s actions and decisions.
E chewed the thought, mulled over carefully. Suddenly, it occurred to him that Richard’s life often mirrored Lil’ Wayne lyrics. “Bro, you need to stop listening to this fucking Lil’ Wayne shit,” E said, somberly.
“Why nigga?”
E pointed over at the radio, looking at his friend with worry. “Cuz every time you do something, it’s like Lil’ Wayne backing you up or some shit.”
“It aint’ my fault that he rap about how I live, nigga.” Dismissing E’s comment, Richard stood up, walked over to the stereo and turned the music back up.
“Richard!” E’s mother yelled from outside the front door, barely audible over the music.
“Yeah!” Richard yelled back.
“Balle out here looking for you boy!”
“A’ight. I’m coming,” Richard walked towards the door. Before walking outside, he turned back towards E. “Ay. Don’t worry ‘bout that shit, man.”
***
Driving back from the strip club later that night, Richard, E and Lil’ B joked about the night’s events. The club had been dead when they’d arrived, but the three of them had still managed to enjoy themselves thoroughly.
Lil’ B’s favorite had been their private show from Joy. Richard had given her a thousand dollars – a well-deserved reward for helping them sell so many pills that week, but he still made her dance for them the rest of the night. Visions of her round breasts, quarter-sized nipples and bright red thong still occupied his thoughts. If only Joy weren’t so stuck on Richard…
“Bro’ you ‘bout one crazy mother fucker,” E laughed along with Richard and Lil’ B as they reminisced about their night.
“Why you say that?” Richard grinned ear to ear. “Cause I do what I want and not what I can?”
“Psshht…That part of it,” Lil’ B leaned forward into the front seat as he spoke.
E turned the upper half of his body towards the back seat, “You right behind him, nephew, so you don’t need to tell him he crazy, “the corners of his mouth turning down in a concerned frown, but his tone gave away that he was only half-serious.
Lil’ B’s lip curled in offense. He slugged E in the shoulder. E smacked him back, and like two young siblings, they engaged in a mock fistfight with Richard catching the side wind of a few hits. The effect of the drugs made them all laugh at the silliness of their behavior.
Richard’s pocket vibrated. Holding the wheel with one hand, he turned his body slightly sideways to retrieve his cell phone.
“Ay, y’all niggas hold that shit down while I answer this call,” Richard flipped the phone open to answer it and pulled it up to his ear. “Hello?...What’s good Maybay?…Man, you for real?”
Lil’ B and E exchanged an inquisitive look.
“Oh well, fuck that nigga!...I’m driving right now. I’ll get back at you when I get where I’m going.” Richard pushed the end button and tossed the phone into his lap without saying a word. Expression void, he continued to drive.
After what must have been five minutes, Richard suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. E and Lil’ B shot each other a confused look.
“What’s so funny, nigga? What happen?” E asked, his expression now fixed on Richard.
“That nigga that got shot up on Twenty-Second Ave,” Richard paused, speaking through his laughter as E and Lil’ B stared in anticipation, “That was Mondo.”
“You talking ‘bout that shit on the news with the eighteen-wheeler?” Lil’ B asked.
E’s mouth hung open and his eyes widened with shock. “I told you, you crazy bro,” shaking his head.
“Why does what happened to Mondo make him crazy?” Lil’ B asked, a confused expression on his face.
“Cause we did that shit,” E replied.
Lil’ B’s expression turned from one of confusion to one of shock and disbelief. A sinister grin spread across his face, “Oh shit, Paw! You is crazy!”
Richard shrugged. To him, Mondo’s death served as nothing more than an ominous message to anyone that dared to mess with him or his crew. If Mondo hadn’t decided to rob Richmond’s trap, he might still be alive.