After getting off the phone with Real, Shamoney had quickly gathered the money from the attic safe above the guest room, which the invaders had missed. Shamoney knew exactly who he was going after, and despite Chantele’s pleas to leave it alone and call the police, he was determined and his mind was already made up.
“Baby, please just let the police—”
“Chantele, listen to me. The police are only concerned ’bout one thing, and that’s to lock up my ass. I’ma be okay,” Shamoney said to her as they pulled up to the West Palm Beach Airport, where Chantele was scheduled to catch a flight back to New York City.
Shamoney stepped out of the car and walked around to open Chantele’s door. All she could think about was his safety, and she didn’t want to leave his side. As much as she didn’t want to deal with him and his street life anymore, she was considering a divorce until she discovered that she was pregnant with his child.
I can’t let him do this! she thought as Shamoney opened her door.
“Come on, baby. I gotta get you out of here,” Shamoney said.
He knew that shit was about to get real, and like any king in war, he had to protect this queen.
Getting her away from the predestined chaos was his only concern at the moment. When Chantele looked up with a flood of tears cascading down her face, Shamoney’s heart fell to his gut to see her in such pain, which deeply hurt him.
“I love you, Shada,” Chantele spoke, calling him by his first name. “I don’t want to lose you, but if this is our last time, just know that me and your child will miss you,” she broke down.
Child! Shamoney thought, realizing what his wife was concisely telling him.
Shamoney then pulled her from the car to her feet and held her in his arms.
“Baby, daddy gon’ be straight. I don’t need you to stress, okay?” Shamoney said, rubbing Chantele’s curly locks. “I know how much you want me to get out of these streets,” he said as he pulled her back to look into her eyes. “I promise, when I handle these niggas, we gon’ be out of this shit together. Don’t worry ’bout what you saw at the house. I will handle it.”
“What do you mean, Shada? Them people we hired have family.”
“Them under the table, and nine out of ten are illegal immigrants,” he explained.
“Shada, I’m pregnant. Didn’t you hear me?” Chantele exploded, hitting Shamoney on his chest.
Shamoney grabbed Chantele and held her tightly.
“Baby, I’m gonna be okay. Please trust me, okay?” Shamoney asked of his wife.
She bridled her emotions and let his words comfort her.
There’s nothing I can do. His mind is determined! she thought as she planted her lips to his and kissed him long and passionately.
Shamoney tasted the salty tears that fell from her eyes on her lips. He had to make it back to her and not leave her or his child alone to fight the world. Despite her lifestyle, Chantele loved Shamoney and found herself trapped in his world.
“I love you, Shada. Be careful, will you?”
“I will, baby. And I’ll call you in the morning,” he informed her.
Together they walked into the airport to book her flight. Neither of them was aware of the eyes watching them from the black SUV.
* * *
If anyone knew the streets of Palm Beach County, Shamoney felt that it was him, being that he had a strong clientele base within the city of Murderville. He had made out the SUV a couple of lights ago, and now he was planning on how he was going to paint their world red, which further prompted him to go after Pat by himself. His anger impaired his ability to make logical decisions, and he was more than thankful for the niggas trailing him, because he was on his way to Lake Worth headfirst.
I’m about to give y’all niggas some real gratification! Shamoney thought as he came to a red light at the intersection of Military and North Lake.
His fully loaded MAC-10 sat on his lap as he closely watched the SUV. They were playing him two cars back.
Shamoney’s iPhone chimed in with Yo Gotti’s hit “Down in the DM” ringtone. When he looked at the caller, he saw that it was his brother Real again, who had been persistently calling him since he had hung up on him. Shamoney again ignored his brother’s call and pressed on the gas while gearing though the green light. Like he expected, when he changed lanes, the SUV did as well.
“Come on, muthafucka!” Shamoney exclaimed over Future’s hit emanating from his stereo system at mid volume.
When Shamoney came to the intersection of Okeechobee Boulevard, he abruptly maneuvered to the far-left lane while simultaneously completely dropping down his window. Horns blared from angry drivers, and the niggas in the SUV became perplexed. They were now four cars behind in the same lane as Shamoney, who was two cars behind the first U-turn. With his MAC-10 in his hand and moving in first gear, Shamoney prepared himself for whatever was to come his way.
When it was his turn to hit the U-turn, he did so artistically while aiming at the SUV and releasing a deadly, shocking fusillade at its windshield and hitting both men. The SUV crashed into the car in front of it while they tried to escape the gunfire, but to no avail. Both men in the SUV felt the wrath of the MAC-10.
Shamoney abruptly stopped and hopped out of his car with his MAC-10, simultaneously spraying the SUV with slugs. He ran up to the back door and saw no one in the backseat, which was clearly visible from the shattered windows. He then aimed at both men’s heads in the driver and passenger seats and finished them off by exploding their heads with the rapid slugs.
“Tell Pat ‘let’s run this shit!’” Shamoney said as he made a dash for his .745.
Shamoney then swiftly geared the .745, circling the intersection by taking a back street. He then took Okeechobee Boulevard to Bee Line Highway, where he accelerated to the swamp.
* * *
When Pat’s iPhone rang, he saw that it was Shamoney. He was sitting in his den with Big Chub awaiting a call from two of his entourage to inform him that they had Shamoney. Pat was perplexed while staring at Shamoney’s name lighting up his phone.
“They must have him and they’re calling from his phone!” Pat assumed.
Big Chub was smashing a plate of Gina’s delicious barbecue ribs, chicken, and yellow rice.
“Why call from his phone?” Big Chub asked while licking the sauce from his fat fingers.
“I don’t know,” Pat responded as he answered the phone. “Speak!” Pat barked, getting an ear full of Shamoney laughing hysterically.
“What, Pat? You thought that a nigga would fall for the bait, huh?” Shamoney shrilled.
Pat immediately put the call on speaker so Big Chub could hear.
“What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout, nigga?” Pat asked while checking the blinds to his den.
“Pat, two niggas equals two bodies when you send them at me. I thought you were smarter than that, Pat.”
Shit! Pat thought.
He couldn’t say that he was surprised that Shamoney had taken out his two good men, because he knew who he was dealing with when it came to him on the other side. A stupid nigga whose finger always stays on the trigger, ready to go! Pat thought.
“Since you think I’m stupid enough to come to yo’ home, how ’bout I show you a trick or two. Take a wild guess what my next move is, Pat,” Shamoney said before he hung up.
“Shit!” Pat yelled.
He didn’t need to think twice about his two men. He knew that neither of them had an inch of breath left in their bodies.
If I had just talked with Shamoney. Damn, man! Pat thought.
“Chub, we gotta get this lil nigga, and we can’t under-estimate him,” Pat explained.
“Yeah, I know,” Chub retorted.