Aleesha and Savage woke up the next morning on a mission. They had to come up with a plan so they sat at home smoking blunts, thinking of the perfect crime and how to get away with it. They wanted to do something quick, fast and easy, they just didn’t know what. They needed an idea that was believable and fool proof, and after thinking about it long enough Aleesha knew exactly what she wanted to do. She ran down the plan to Savage. They just had to decide when it was going to get done.
“Babe, why didn’t you ever tell me Marcus tried to fuck you?” Savage asked Aleesha, changing up the topic of their conversation.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, stunned. The question had caught her off guard. She didn’t know if she should try to lie to her husband about the situation, or tell him the truth. She didn’t ever expect him to find out about that night, and especially didn’t expect him to be bringing it up now. She hadn’t told anyone about it, and just hoped he didn’t hear any false facts in regards to it.
“You know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that shit Aleesha!” Savage exclaimed furiously. He wasn’t mad at his wife for not telling him, he was mad at the fact that his best friend tried to have sex with her.
“Because, I was scared,” she admitted timidly. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I just thought he was too drunk.”
“Man, ain’t no such thing as too drunk. That nigga knew what the fuck he was tryna do.”
“Babe, I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Savage said, cutting her off and calming back down. “I’m not mad at you cuz I know it wasn’t yo fault. I just wish you would have told me. I would have been killed that nigga.”
“Who told you anyway?” Aleesha asked, realizing he never told her how he found out.
“Noelle did when she came to the shop.”
“How the fuck did she know?” she asked, both confused and angry.
“I don’t know,” he answered as he shrugged his shoulders. “I wasn’t tryna ask that bitch the details. I didn’t even think that shit was true. But that shit don’t matter, ‘cause that nigga is getting his. Come on, we gotta go.”
Savage and Aleesha had connects for any and everything they wanted or needed, and artillery was definitely one of them. So for this matter they only trusted going to one place, which was the trap. The trap was a car mechanic shop owned by a guy named Nutty. They called it the trap because on the outside, it was a legitimate car mechanic shop with some of the best mechanics in the Inland Empire. But on the inside, shady business was done deep under.
They arrived at the trap less than an hour after leaving their home, and a couple minutes before the shop closed. Nutty only let people down into the basement when the shop closed, and that’s exactly where they needed to go.
“Wassup Nutty!” Savage yelled out as soon as he got in the garage and spotted Nutty.
“Hey Nut,” Aleesha addressed him, following behind her husband.
Nutty was busy working on a 2005 Pontiac Grand Am when they entered. “Hey. How’s my favorite couple doing?” he asked in response. Nutty was dark and baldheaded with a big beer belly, and only stood a couple inches taller than Aleesha. They first met Nutty at the beginning of their relationship, when Savage’s Impala needed a new engine. They took it to Nutty and because of his low prices and excellent quality of work, have been trusting him with their cars ever since.
“We doin’ good. Tryna see what’s crackin’ wit’ the basement,” Savage responded as he approached Nutty with dap.
“Oh okay. What y’all tryna do?” Nutty asked, giving them his full attention.
“Shit, we need some tools,” Savage replied, rubbing his hands together.
“Aight, gimme 20 minutes and meet me around back,” Nutty humbly replied.
Thirty minutes later, Nutty met up with Savage and Aleesha in the alley at the back of the building. He unlocked the back door and led them into a 1000 sq. foot renovated basement, but most of it was unseen. They entered the lounge, a room about the size of an elementary classroom, with a full bar, poker and pool table, and various other furniture in it. There was a secret door hidden underneath the staircase that led to the rest of the basement.
Nutty walked them through the hidden door and into a hallway. They walked past the first door on the right, which was the drug farm. It housed any and every drug you could think of, new and old, and had a separate room inside where some drugs were cooked up. They continued further down the hall and came to the second door to the right, which was the artillery room. It housed guns and the accessories, and also had a room on the inside that was soundproof where you shot targets and practiced using the weapons before you bought any of them.
“You sure you really ready for this babe?” Savage asked Aleesha before they got inside the room.
“Yeah,” she answered back, not sounding too convincing.
“You positive? I can handle this shit by myself.”
“Yes,” she answered, nodding her head. “I know we agreed that I wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty anymore unless it’s absolutely necessary, and I think that this time it is.”
“Okay. Once it’s done, we can’t take this shit back.”
“I don’t plan to.”
Once inside, Aleesha went straight to the pistols. She already knew what type of gun and attachment she wanted, and ten minutes after she practiced with it, they were ready to go.
While Aleesha was testing out her new toy, Savage had received a very important call. He had got word on where Porsha, one of the females who jumped Aleesha, was hiding at. She started turning tricks at the Budget Lodge while trying to stay low-key and out of sight. But she messed up when she needed to get her fix, and she called no one other than Black.
Usually, she picked up from one of her tricks, Ron, but he was out of town. So he gave her the number to the guy who supplied him, which was Black. Black had sold to her a couple of days before hand, but that was before he found out who she really was. Since the streets didn’t have any rules—coupled with the plentiful bounty she had on her head—he gave up her location without thinking twice.
“So how you wanna do this bitch in?” Savage asked her as they were driving on the I-215 south freeway. They were on their way to meet up with Black at Sundowners.
“Honestly, babe, I’m not trying to waste too much time on this bitch. She lightweight for real. We could just give that bitch a bad batch of dope or some shit,” Aleesha responded irritably.
“Damn, babe, I think that just might work.”
They arrived at Sundowners and ordered their food to dine in. Black was already seated and enjoying his meal when they joined him. He made sure he got them a booth far enough in the cut, so no one could hear their conversation.
“Wassup, my nigga?” Savage asked, always being the first to speak as he and Aleesha scooted in the booth.
“Shit, what’s goin’ on?” Black asked, stuffing his mouth with steak and shrimp. Black was real tall and as dark as Wesley Pipes with a fade.
“Look, I’m trying to get straight down to business, Black,” Aleesha said, trying not to beat around the bush.
“Aight, what’s wit it?” he asked.
“I need that bitch gone, straight up,” she stated. “Nothing too fancy, you know. No bloodshed, no trace, just something quick and easy.”
“Shit that’s nothin’. How much we talkin’ exactly?” Black asked, now with his full attention on Aleesha.
“15 g’s.”
“Consider that shit well done,” he stated happily as he bit into his food.
“Thanks, foolie,” she gratefully returned.
“Number 41, your order is ready!” the hostess yelled out over the loudspeaker.
“That’s us babe, go get the food. This may be our last meal as free men and women,” Aleesha said, making all three of them laugh.
***
Black pulled up to the front of the Budget Lodge and parked on the street, avoiding the security cameras at all costs. Fuck, this bitch better hurry up, he thought to himself as he sat waiting in his car. Thankfully, Porsha didn’t have him waiting that long. A minute later, she was opening his passenger door and took a seat.
“Hey Joe,” Porsha said before she was even fully seated. Black never gave dope heads his real name or street name, and he used a Tracfone when doing business with them. This prevented him from getting caught up with the police if one of them ever tried to snitch on him.
“Wassup,” he returned coolly.
“So what’s been goin’ on?” she asked, trying to spark up a conversation.
“Ay, I got some other shit to take care of, so we need to cut this chit chat short,” he answered rudely.
“Oh, no problem, my bad. How much do I owe you?”
“45.”
“Okay here. Thank you,” Porsha said as she handed him the money in exchange for the dope. She exited the car and quickly walked back to her room, and as fast as she walked back, Black was just as fast leaving and hopping on the freeway.
Because she paid for her room a week in advance, and had a “Do Not Disturb” sign on her door, Porsha’s body wasn’t discovered until a few days later. The hotel clerk had called her room phone numerous times to ask her if she would be checking out, or if she was going to be paying for another week. When he didn’t get a response, he sent the maid to inform her that she either needed to pay or leave the room. When the maid made it to her room and didn’t get a response after knocking on the door for a couple minutes, she let herself in. Porsha was found dead in the bed, with a rubber band tied around her arm and a syringe still in her hand.