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Te’Qui and Kesha bypassed the line that was wrapped around the corner for them to get inside of Club Vicious. Te’Qui hit the bouncer’s hand with him and his lady’s entree fee and a one-hundred dollar bill for himself. Having paid the tithe, the young couple was granted access to the establishment. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Te’Qui and Kesha were patted down and searched thoroughly by an individual of their respective sex, who was dressed in all black, like the gentleman working at the front door. Once this was done, Te’Qui and Kesha were free to walk into the club. Walking down the corridor, with their arms hooked with one another, they found Usher’s Yeah growing closer and closer, until they were finally on the dance floor. There was a sea of people dancing and smiling; seemingly having a good old time. The colorful disco balls spinning from the ceiling flashed on and off the patrons.
Te’Qui spotted the bar and pointed it out to Kesha. He then walked over to it. The bartender, a tall, lanky white dude with bleached blond hair and a piercing that went through both nostrils, appeared to be hard at work preparing drinks and making mental notes of awaiting patrons’ orders. There seemed to be one-thousand hands holding up $5, $10 and $20 dollar bills trying to get the bartender’s attention. He looked like he was taking the orders of those that were offering to tip him big. With this in mind, Te’Qui whipped out a one-hundred dollar bill and called him over. The bartender looked down the bar at the young gangsta and took in his attire. Te’Qui was dressed in a red blazer, which he wore over a black turtle neck and red, suede Versace slip-ons. His accessories were gold designer frames, a gold crucifix, an A.P Rolex watch flooded with rubies and an icy gold pinky ring. To the bartender, Te’Qui looked like a quarter million dollars in drug money, so he couldn’t pass him up. He approached him with a friendly smile while he shook up the metal canister containing the drink he was preparing.
“What’s up, boss?” the smirking bartender asked.
“Gimme a Corona and a cranberry juice; the rest of this is yours, my man,” Te’Qui held out the one-hundred dollar bill toward him and he took him. When the bartender went off to finish the drink he already was in the middle of making, Te’Qui and Kesha turned around to the dance floor. They leaned against the bar, holding hands and scoping the scenery. As soon as Te’Qui’s eyes landed on the man he was looking for, he leaned close to the ear of his lady and whispered something to her. Kesha’s eyes went right to where Enzo’s ass was on the dance floor.
Enzo was in a crowd of dancing club goers. He was grinding against two exotic looking women and groping. One was at his back and the other was at his front. They were sharing a three way kiss with their eyes closed. From the looks of blissfulness written across their faces they appeared to be in their own world. Enzo stopped kissing the women and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. He then grabbed the women by their hands and walked them towards the hallway. Te’Qui and Kesha kept their eyes on Enzo and the chicks until they disappeared through the men’s room door.
“Cranberry juice and Corona, boss!” the bartender called out to Te’Qui. The young gangsta turned around and picked up the beverages, thanking homeboy. He passed the glass of cranberry juice to Kesha and kept the Corona. He interlocked his fingers with his lady’s fingers and told her they were going to find a place to sit down. As they crossed the dance floor he kept his eyes on the men’s room door.
“We can sit right here, babe.” Kesha said to her man as she clocked a table in the shadiest part of the club. The table was hidden in the cut where not too many people could see it. There were half empty bottles of beer and a couple of glasses stained with alcohol occupying the table top because a waitress hadn’t come by yet to clean it off.
“Limme get that for you,” a white woman came out of nowhere, smiling. Her long brunette hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was dressed in a black button-down, bowtie, slacks and matching apron. She went about the task of sitting the colorful beer bottles and glasses on her tray. She then sprayed the table with a cleanser and wiped it down. Afterwards, she hung the spray bottle on her belt, tucked the towel inside of her back pocket and picked up her tray. Te’Qui pulled out a wad of money and peeled off a bill, dropping it on the waitress’s tray as she walked passed him, smiling. The woman thanked him and went on about her business.
Once the waitress was gone, Te’Qui and Kesha sat down at the table. They continued to watch the men’s room door. A few minutes later, the door swung open and Enzo and those exotic looking bitchez came out. Enzo was zipping up his pants and buckling his belt while the women were fixing their hair and straightening out their dresses. Te’Qui and Kesha watched from the shadows as Enzo and the two women went into the V.I.P section. They lounged on a black leather sofa and smoked on hookahs, blowing smoke into the air.
At this time, D.J. Flip, the disc jockey for the night at the club was mixing Ron Browz’ Arab Money and Jim Jones’ Ballin’. He’d stop his mixing every now and again to shout out some shit to the mass of people on the floor dancing and grinding.
“Big shout out to Enzo, happy birthday, my nigga!” D.J. Flip called out from where he was posted, behind the turn tables, high up inside of the D.J. booth. He was a short, buff nigga that rocked his hair in short dread locks. A Gucci head band was around his forehead while his muscular form filled out a grey Gucci hoodie.
When Enzo heard the D.J. shout him out, he stood to his feet with four blocks of blue faces in each of his jeweled hands, looking around at everyone in the club, feeling like he was royalty and they were peasants or some shit.
“It’s a real nigga birthday, bottles for everybody, on me!” Enzo announced and threw the money into the air, watching it rain down on everybody on the dance floor. The music came back on and he sat back down indulging in his hookah. He watched the scenary as the women he’d smashed inside of the men’s room rubbed on him and shit.
Te’Qui and Kesha ventured onto the dance floor to get their groove on. They watched Enzo closely. It wasn’t long before he was hitting the women he’d fucked earlier with a few dollars and sending them off. The remainder of his time in the V.I.P section he was guzzling expensive champagne and drunkenly dancing by himself. A big bald headed nigga that Te’Qui assumed was Enzo’s chauffeur leaned over the velvet rope and said something to Enzo that he couldn’t hear. Enzo glanced at his watch and sat the champagne bottle down on the table. He then pulled out a small wad of money that was held by a money-clip. He removed the clip and peeled off two one-hundred dollar bills, dropping it on the table top. Afterwards, he started for the velvet rope to get out of the V.I.P section. Seeing this, Te’Qui grabbed Kesha by her hand and led her towards the exit of the club. Te’Qui was going to get at that nigga as soon as he was out in the open.
***
Enzo made it to his Lexus truck and pulled out his keys. He pushed the button on the small remote and unlocked the driver’s door. As soon as he pulled it open, he felt cold steel press against the back of his dome piece, and instantly the hair on the back of his neck stood upright and his body went rigid.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Te’Qui began. “Now, I know you ain’t cuttin’ outta the party so soon without sayin’ goodbye.”
Enzo looked into the driver’s window and saw a man wearing a red ski-mask. His eyes looked threatening, but a devilish smile was spread across his lips.
“Fuck! What the fuck you want, man?” Enzo slightly looked over his shoulder.
“What I want chu to do is to get into the driver’s seat while I hop into the back. Yo’ punk-ass gon’ drive me to wherever the fuck you keep yo’ money at. You try anything funny and I’ma turn the black tints in this fly ass whip red, you follow me?”
Enzo didn’t say shit and that pissed Te’Qui off.
Te’Qui scowled and cracked him at the back of his head with the butt of his gun, causing him to bend forward, grabbing the back of his bleeding dome. He squeezed his eyelids and clenched his jaws, fighting back the throbbing pain he was feeling.
“Fuck you do that for, man?”
“Nigga, I ain’t finna be sayin’ what I gotta say two and three mothafuckin’ times! I know you heard me! Now, get cho bitch-ass behind the wheel!” Te’Qui kept his banga on Enzo as he made to get into the backseat of the truck. As soon as he went to grab the door handle, he felt a gun press against the back of his neck. He stiffened up, and his eyes shot to their corners.
“Drop yo’ gun, mothafucka, ‘fore I splash you up against the side of this Lexus.” A gravelly voice came from behind Te’Qui. It belonged to a big bald held nigga named Booney. He was Enzo’s bodyguard. This was the same nigga that Te’Qui saw in the club talking to Enzo. He’d originally thought he was the kingpin’s chauffeur. Booney was dressed in a navy blue turtle neck and a charcoal gray blazer. The mothafucka looked like Michael Clark Duncan. You know, John Coffee off The Green Mile movie?
Te’Qui dropped his gun like Booney’s big ass had told him. The giant then patted him down. Once he didn’t find any other weapons on him, he took his gun from the back of his head. Right after a wincing Enzo turned around rubbing the back of his head. He kicked Te’Qui between his legs which doubled him over. He followed up, grabbing him at the back of his neck and kneeing him in his face. Cocking his fist back, he punched him across the jaw and dropped him to the asphalt where he lay, bawling in pain.
“Damn, Booney, it took yo’ ass long enough. This mothafucka coulda gotta ‘way with my ass, man! Fuck was you doin’?” Enzo asked his bodyguard as he whipped out his handkerchief and used it to blotch the blood at the back of his head. Each time he touched the handkerchief to his dome, it came away bloodier and bloodier.
“My bad, boss, I lost you in the crowd. Luckily I got here when I did though.” Booney pointed his gun down at Te’Qui, in case he tried some shit.
“It’s alright, big man. All is forgiven.” Enzo patted him on the arm. He then stuffed the stained handkerchief into his right back pocket. Afterwards, he turned his focus to a pained Te’Qui. “Ol’ busta-ass nigga, gon’ call yo’ self tryna rob me,” he pointed two fingers at his chest. “The mothafuckin’ king of the streets. You gon’ try to rob me? Oh, nigga, yo’ momma musta drop yo’ ass on yo’ gotdamn head when you was born.” he walked around him in a 360 degree turn, eyes looking down at him. He stopped once he reached his side and kicked him hard as shit in his stomach, lifting him off the ground. Te’Qui fell on his back wincing and holding his stomach.
“You chose the wrong one, homeboy,” Booney stated, holding his gun on Te’Qui as his boss continued to stomp and kick him. “You see, the entire time you were playing the cut in the club watching my man, Enzo, I was watching yo’ ass. I figured yo’ ol’ bitch-ass wassa jackboy which is why I pulled my man’s coat tail to it. Now, here we are, in the parking lot, with you getting yo’ monkey-ass handed to you. How ‘bout that?” he cracked a one sided smile.
“He sho’ in the fuck did!” Enzo gritted as he stomped Te’Qui in the stomach, causing his arms and legs to jump up from the ground.
“Uhhh!” Te’Qui made an ugly ass face as he felt Enzo’s hard bottom dress shoe slam down against his torso.
“Get the fuck away from my, baby daddy!” A feminine voice rang out from behind Enzo and Booney. When they turned around, they found Kesha’s crazy ass running at them with her gun up. She’d just pulled up and hopped out of her man’s cherry red ‘64 Chevrolet Impala.
“Man, cap that crazy bitch, Booney!” Enzo pointed in Kesha’s direction.
“Kesha, nooooooooo!” Te’Qui called out to his baby momma, outstretching his hand towards her, with a pained expression written across his face.
Blowl! Blowl!
Kesha let her gun talk to Booney and Enzo as she charged at them. Bullets whizzed by the men and over their heads.
“Keshaaaaaa!” Te’Qui called out to his unborn child’s mother again.
Booney clutched his gun with both hands and angled his head. He shut one eyelid and took aim. He was about to end Kesha’s life with one shot, that was until God intervened.
Blocka! Blocka! Blocka!
Three caps slammed into Booney and he grimaced, dropping his gun to the ground. Enzo looked to where the bullets had come from. At the end of his line of vision, he saw a fat nigga wearing a black bandana on his head and the lower half of his face. His eyes were covered by black sunglasses. He had two black .9mm handguns in his meaty hands, popping them both off.
As the bullets were flying around them, Enzo pulled Booney up by his arm and they took off running down the block. By this time, police car sirens filled the air; Twelve was heading to their location.
The fat nigga that was rocking the black bandanas ran over to Te’Qui. He leaned down and examined his body for wounds but he didn’t find any. He asked him was he okay and he nodded yes. Next, the fat nigga stood up, holding one gun at his side and pointing the other at the fleeing suspects.
Blocka! Blocka! Blocka!
The fat nigga blasted his tool sideways at Booney and Enzo’s fleeing backs, but they’d gotten too far for him to reach. Te’Qui’s rescuer tucked his warm guns on his waistline and helped him upon his feet, throwing his arm over his shoulders. At this time Twelve’s sirens were getting louder and louder as they closed in.
“Yo’, follow me, lil’ momma!” The fat nigga hollered out to Kesha. She was standing before him with her gun at her side, looking like she wasn’t sure of what to do. She focused her attention on Te’Qui, who looked to be in pain, waiting for him to give her some instructions. Instead, he nodded, letting her know that it was okay for her to follow homeboy’s order.
With the okay given, Kesha ran back to the Impala and jumped in behind the wheel. Once she’d gotten into the car, homeboy that had held Te’Qui down helped him over to the passenger side of his whip. He slammed the door shut and ran over to the driver side, jumping in behind the wheel. Shortly thereafter, he fired up his car and sped out of the parking lot, with Kesha following not too far behind.
The fat nigga took a few back streets and bent a few corners, with Kesha keeping up with him. He winded up in a dark ass alley where he murdered the headlights of his ride, and told Te’Qui to tell his baby momma to kill hers. Te’Qui didn’t waste any time pulling out his cellular and texting Kesha the command he was given. Shortly, the lights of the Chevrolet were executed. By this time, Twelve’s sirens were growing even louder, and the fat nigga was staring into the side view mirror. Through the reflection he clocked One Time whipping past him at his rear, red and blue lights flashing.
Once the sounds of the sirens disappeared down street, homeboy removed his sunglasses and his bandanas. He threw them out of the window and turned to Te’Qui.
“Ante up, my nigga,” the fat nigga flexed his fingers, wanting Te’Qui’s red ski-mask. Still holding his side, Te’Qui pulled it off, leaving his cornrows frizzy. “Yo’ Glizzy too,” he referred to his Glock as he held out his hand.
Te’Qui’s face twisted and he looked homie up and down like, Who the fuck are you? “Blood, I gave you my mask, I’m ridin’ in yo’ whip hurt, and pretty much at yo’ mercy. But it’ll be a cold day in hell ‘fore I give you my strap. Now, I appreciate you savin’ my ass back there, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t know or trust yo’ ass. You feel me?”
Old boy smirked and nodded his head, saying, “I feel you, Blood.” he then went on to clean his guns off with the lower half of his shirt and tossed them out into the alley, along with the red ski-mask. Next, he fished a half smoked blunt from out of the ashtray and used a lighter to roast the tip of it, until it wafted smoke. When he sucked on the end of it, its tip glowed ember and he blew out a cloud of smoke. He turned on the lights of his vehicle. Switching hands with the bleezy, he swifted the gear into reverse and looked over his shoulder so he could back out of the alley.
“Hit cho girl up and tell her to follow me to the hospital.” the fat nigga told Te’Qui as he backed out of the alley. Once T.J. was out in the street, he put his whip into drive and pulled off. Kesha was following right behind him.
***
Te’Qui was checked out at the emergency ward of the hospital. Besides his swollen and bruised face, he had fractured his ribs. The doctor wrapped his torso in bandages and gave him a prescription for some painkillers. With the examination having been done, Te’Qui was free to go home. When he emerged from the back he saw the fat nigga, who he later found out went by the name, T.J, sitting right beside Kesha. They looked to be conversing about something, but he didn’t know exactly what. He found it suspicious that they suddenly stopped talking once they saw him walking up.
“Babyyyyyyy,” Kesha sprung to her feet and ran over to Te’Qui wrapping her arms around him. She kissed on his lips and every exposed part of his face that she could. While she was busy smooching on him, he was looking over her shoulder at T.J. A crease fixed on his brows.
“Yo’,” Te’Qui held Kesha back at arm’s length, looking into her eyes. She frowned up, wondering what was up.
“What’s up, bae? Something wrong?” she questioned with concern.
“Yeah, fuck was y’all choppin’ it up about?”
“Who? Me and T.J?”
“Yeah, you and T.J.” his eyebrows slanted, as he looked back and forth between her and T.J.
“Oh, look at my booski, getting all jelly and shit. That’s so cute,” she smiled, grabbing him by his bottom jaw and puckering his lips up. She gave him a quick peck on them. “We just talking about you and the baby, silly. Ain’t nothing to be worried about. You know who all of this,” she placed his hands on her breasts and then her bodacious ass. “This, and this,” she placed his hands on her heart. “Belongs to.”
“Who?” he angled his head, looking at her side ways like she wasn’t about to say his name.
“You. My king. Who else?” she smirked and threw her arms around his neck.
Te’Qui placed his hands on her waist, staring her in the face. The animosity vanished from his face and he finally cracked a smile. “It better be me. Had you said any other nigga’z name, I woulda stanked yo’ ass.”
“Oh, really?” she smirked harder, coming closer to him. Their noses were nearly touching. “So, you gone kill me while I’m carrying yo’ baby, nigga?”
“Nope. I’ma wait ‘til you have ‘em, then I’m nod yo’ ass.” he smiled harder, looking into her eyes lovingly.
Kesha smacked him in the back of his head playfully and said, “Stop playing, boy, and gimme a kiss.”
Te’Qui and Kesha turned their heads counterclockwise as they kissed deep and passionately.
“You know I love you, right?” he stared deep into her eyes, meaning every word he’d just spoken to her. He’d never loved any woman in the world more than he loved her. He’d smashed mad bitchez and didn’t any of them mean shit to him but pussy. Kesha had his heart and his undying loyalty. There wasn’t anything in the world that he wouldn’t do for her. Little momma was his ride or die, for sure.
“You better ‘cause if you don’t, after I have this baby, I’ma kick yo’ ass.” Kesha swore, holding him by the collar of his hoodie as she brushed her nose up against his, affectionately. She then kissed him three times, mashing her lips against his the third time. “I love you too, baby.”
Te’Qui threw his around Kesha’s shoulder, wincing when he did so. Her face frowned up as she looked to him wondering what was wrong. “You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just my ribs, I’m be good though. Come on.” he ushered her towards the emergency room exit. Coming across T.J., he motioned for him to follow them outside. Once they were outside, he turned to Kesha. “Baby, go get the car, I’ma holla at T.J. for a minute.”
“Okay.” Kesha smiled and kissed him. As she turned to walk away, Te’Qui smacked her on her ample bottom. She stopped mid-walk, looked over her shoulder grinning, and twerked for him a little.
“Alright, now, don’t get the shit fucked up out cha when we get home.” Te’Qui cracked a one sided grin.
“Nigga, please, you ain’t scaring nobody.” she walked on.
“Alright, bet.” he watched his woman as she continued to stroll towards the parking lot, observing her big old booty rocking back and forth.
Right then, T.J. stepped beside him. Instantly, Te’Qui’s demeanor changed. His face took on a more serious expression and he looked to homeboy.
“First off, homie,” Te’Qui began. “I wanna thank you for savin’ my ass. If it wasn’t for you, them fools woulda laid down me, my lady and our unborn child.”
T.J. nodded his head and said, “Don’t mention it. It’s all love.”
“Nah, you don’t know me, homie. You didn’t have to stick yo’ neck out there for me like that. You don’t owe me jack shit. You feel me?”
“I feel you.”
“Which brings me to my other question, what were you doin’ out there any way?” he looked him square in his eyes, trying to read what kind of nigga he was. That nigga T.J. didn’t even flinch. There wasn’t any hoe in his DNA. That’s for damn sure.
“Look, I’ma keep it a g-stack witchu, Blood,” T.J. started off. “A nigga ‘bout the ski-mask business, I stay hitting licks and shit. When I saw that nigga Enzo, knowing that he basically a mothafucking crack king, I saw a pay day. I was gon’ snatch that ass up and have ‘em take me to where he holding all his money and dope at. Right when I was finna bust my move, I saw you making yours. I saw you in trouble, and decided to step in, you feel what I’m saying?”
“Like I said earlier, dawg, I appreciate chu lookin’ out for a nigga.” he dapped him up. “Listen, limme bless you with a lil’ somethin’, somethin’ for yo’ trouble.”
“Nah,” homie put his hands up, letting him know he didn’t want anything from him. “I can’t take that from you. What I did was just good lookin’ out.”
“You sho’? ‘Cause I could lay somethin’ on you tonight.”
“As fucked up as I am out here, I don’t know how the hell I’m fixing my mouth to tell you no.” he shook his head and ran his hands down his face. He couldn’t help thinking about how close to broke he was. The lick he’d hit the night prier netted him a little change but it would only last for so long. He was counting on the loot he’d make snatching up Enzo keeping his pockets straight for a minute, but that hit was botched on the account of Te’Qui getting to his victim before he did.
Te’Qui’s forehead creased with a line as he stood upright and folded his arms across his chest. He looked at T.J like he was generally concerned about his problems. “Look, homie, I’m not tryna get all up in yo’ B.I., but what’s up witchu?”
T.J took a deep breath before beginning. “Blood, to make a long story short, my baby momma and some old nigga hit me for six birds and sixty bands, stuck me for all my shit.” he shook his head thinking about the haul he’d come up on, only to have some low life hoodrat rape him for it. From the look in his eyes, Te’Qui thought the nigga wanted to cry. If he would have, he wouldn’t have blamed him. The way he was talking, homegirl must have hit him for something real nice. “Bitch fucked me with no vaseline, dawg.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know how it is to lose it all, then have to figure out how to get it all back again.” Te’Qui assured him. “Limme hit cho pocket with a lil’ somethin’ tomorrow though. You know, a lil’ somethin’ to hold you over ‘til you get back on you feet.”
“I can’t let chu do that. I’ma man. I can’t be out here taking no hands out.” He told him. “Check this out though. You know what chu can do for me?”
“All you gotta do is name it, homie.”
“If you really wanna help a nigga out, look out fa me the next time another lick falls into yo’ lap. I’d greatly appreciate it.” T.J. looked at him with sincere eyes.
Te’Qui stared at him for a moment, weighing his options as he thought things over, massaging his chin. Making up his mind, he pulled his cellular from out of his pocket and outstretched it towards T.J. “I got chu, my nig. Just program yo’ math into my cell, and I’ma holla at chu once I come up on something.”
“Fa sho,” T.J. programmed his telephone number into the cell phone and handed it back to Te’Qui, who stashed the cellular inside of his pocket. “Good looking out, my nigga.” he dapped him up and moved to head towards his ride. He stopped and turned around once Te’Qui called out to him. “’Sup with it?”
“Where you from, Blood?”
T.J. told him the blood gang that he was from.
“I’m from Eastside 20s Bloods.” Te’Qui replied.
“Blood Love,” T.J threw up the Bloody B. Te’Qui returned the gesture.
Right then, Kesha pulled up in front of Te’Qui and unlocked the passenger door. He snatched the door open and jumped into the front passenger seat. He gave his baby momma another kiss and she drover off, passing T.J as he trekked towards his whip. She honked the horn and they waved at him. He waved back and continued towards his ride, fishing his keys out of his pocket.
“Looks like somebody made them a new friend.” Kesha glanced at Te’Qui and smiled.
“Ain’t no new friends, baby. That nigga back there saved my life, so I owe him one. I’ma pay that debt, after that we square.”
“Aww, come on. You could always use some new friends.”
“Baby, I don’t even have any old friends.” Te’Qui told her. “The only friend I have ever had in life besides Poochie was my nigga, Baby Wicked; one of the downest, truest, realest young niggaz to have ever walked the earth. I don’t trust nan’ other nigga outside of ‘em.”
“I guess it’s just you and me against the world, huh?”
“Me, you and that bun you got bakin’ in that oven.” he glanced at her slightly protruding belly, rubbing on it gently. He then interlocked his fingers with hers, lifted her hand and kissed it. Next, he kissed her hand and laid his head back against the headrest, staring out of the window.