Chapter 8
Eleven days had passed since Tammy was buried. Everybody else but Anshon was getting on with their lives. Teck and Wallo were nowhere to be found, but Anshon had his hit out.
Fe-Fe continued to work at the bank because Anshon asked her too. He felt she could find out where Teck and Wallo were and how her coworker, Kristi, was involved.
“Anshon, get the door,” Monica yelled from the kitchen. She was baking a cake when there was a knock at the front door.
“Wassup?” Anshon said, giving Deck a pound.
“Nothin’. Wanted to know if you wanna shoot some ball today.”
“Naw, not today. Kinda hot.”
Deck gave him another pound before he turned to leave.
“Anshon, let’s go see Q’mara and Q’shon,” Monica said, shifting through eleven days’ worth of mail that lay on the kitchen table. “Bills . . .” she mumbled to herself, “mo’ bills . . . mo’ bills . . . Triple Crown . . . another bill. Wait a minute. Triple Crown?” She called out to Anshon. He came and stood in the kitchen doorway, sipping on a cold one.
“Baby, ain’t Triple Crown a publishing company?” she asked.
Anshon frowned. “Hell yeah, they’re a publishing company. Shit, they write about the shit we live. Tammy used to read their books all the time.”
“Well,” Monica said, holding the envelope up, “they sent her a letter.”
Anshon’s face lit up. “Big sis was writing a book.” Anshon laughed. “She practically cussed my ass out because I laughed when she told me. Oh, shit! Give me the letter.”
Monica handed him the letter and he ripped it open. He read it and looked at Monica. “Baby, they offered Tammy a book deal! They wanna publish her book!”
“All right, baby! All right!” Monica yelled. “See, Anshon, she’ll live on. She will.”
Anshon called Triple Crown and spoke on behalf of his departed sister. They expressed their sympathy and were happy to be the ones to help keep Tammy’s memory alive. For the first time since Tammy had died, Anshon was able to smile.
He stood outside on his patio and tipped his forty-ounce over the ledge. “This one’s for you, big sis. Hood Legend is gonna be on the streets after all.”
Monica went to grab the phone to call and tell his Aunt Rosa the good news. As she picked it up, a woman was already on the line.
“Ah, yes, may I speak to Anshon Green?”
“Who is dis?” Monica asked, wondering who in the hell this woman was calling her man. She looked at the phone and the caller ID was marked private.
Oh, hell naw! Fe-Fe is one thing, but another bitch? Oh, hell no! she thought.
“I’m not at liberty to say that,” the woman said.
“Look, bitch!” Monica stood up. “Don’t be fuckin’ callin’ my man, ’cause—”
“Gimme the phone!” Anshon held out his hand. “Yo, who dis?”
“Anshon, we need to talk.”
Monica ran to the back room to pick up the phone. It wasn’t Fe-Fe, so Anshon didn’t care about her picking up the line. As a matter of fact, he didn’t start talking until he could hear Monica breathing on the phone.
“I’ll talk when I find out who the hell this is!”
“You may not remember me, but this is Larrisha Maynard. We used to date in high school.”
“High school? Larrisha Maynard? Don’t even play ya self, home girl. Sorry I stood you up for the prom, but goddamn, you should be over it by now. So, Larrisha, I don’t know how you got this number, but I’ma kindly ask you not to call here no more.”
“Damn straight!” Monica added. “Stank pussy bitch!”
“You the stank pussy bitch, ho!” Larrisha snapped. “And, Anshon, don’t flatter yourself. I’m calling because I work here at the bank with Fe-Fe, and she was too upset to tell you what we found out today, so I’m calling to fill you in.”
“Speak,” Anshon said. Monica was silent.
“I need to talk to you face to face.”
“Larrisha—”
“I know who killed your sister.” She cut him off.
“I’ll meet you at the Burger King on New Bern Avenue at eight. I drive a blue Porsche.”
“Yo, what the fuck!” he yelled, but she had already hung up.
When he called Fe-Fe, she was crying so bad that he couldn’t understand a word she was saying.
“What’s going on?” Monica asked, following Anshon around the house. He went into the living room to search through the phone book for the number to the bank. He tossed the phone on the couch when he was informed that Larrisha Maynard no longer worked at the bank. His temper continued to rise.
So she lied. She just told me that she worked at the bank with Fe-Fe. What the fuck is going on?
“Let’s call the police,” Monica said softly.
“Hell no!”
“Baby, please don’t go see her. What if she’s trying to set you up or something?” she pleaded with him.
Anshon wasn’t hearing a word Monica was saying. As far as Anshon was concerned, Biggie said it best: “Kick in the door, waving the four-four.” Scratch that and fuck a .44. Anshon had a gorilla under the bed: a gold-plated four and a half pound, eight and a half inch barrel, five shot Smith & Wesson fifty-caliber Magnum revolver.
“Monica, listen to me.” He turned her face toward him, pointing to the gun.
Monica jumped to the floor. Anshon looked at the gun in his hand and laid it on the bed.
“My fault, baby, but listen, princess. I swear I’m not losing nobody else that’s close to me. My momma gone. My sister gone. I never knew my coward-ass daddy.... You all a nigga got.”
Fe-Fe crossed his mind, but he didn’t call out her name.
“Baby, if the wind fuckin’ blow hard, I’ma stand in front of you. Don’t try to change my mind on this. But if I ever . . . ever find out who took my big sis away from me, I’ma kill ’em.”
Anshon picked up his cell and called Wood C and Deck. They agreed to go with him.
Anshon turned to Monica. “I’m leaving.”
Monica knew there was nothing she could do. “Please be careful, baby.”
“I will. I’m pickin’ up Wood C and Deck on my way, and I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”
She threw a kiss at him through the window, then stood in the front yard to watch him leave.
Since the sun was setting, it was a little dusky as the streetlights slowly came on. Monica wiped her eyes then went to lock the door. A few seconds later, she pulled out in her Nissan.
* * *
50 Cent’s “I’m Supposed to Die Tonight” filled Anshon’s cruising Chevy as he headed toward Raleigh. Anshon made sure he drove the posted speed limit because right now was not a good time to be handing out his license and registration to the police . . . not with his gorilla sitting heavily in his lap.
Wood C was sitting in the front passenger seat, smoking a big head with two Glock .40s under his arms in leather holsters, as Deck sat quietly in the back with a pistol-grip, 32-round clip U.S. Ingram MAC-11.
“Niggas think this is a game,” Anshon shouted, pulling into a Burger King parking lot. “They think I’m fuckin’ playin’.”
Wood C took a pull off his big head. “Niggas think they goin’ home, but they’re not.”
“’Cause they gon be sittin’ up in the trunk, startin’ to rot,” Anshon rapped a little.
Anshon backed into a dark parking spot. It was dark outside, so as Anshon cut the headlights off, his car faded into the night.
“I’ma go in and order somethin’.” Wood C pulled out his twin .40. “These clowns might call the police thinkin’ we plottin’ to rob the joint.”
“Nah,” Anshon said, “I’ma go in, just in case she’s inside but drove another whip, ’cause I don’t see no blue Porsche.”
Just as Anshon went to pull the latch on the door, a stunning Carolina blue Audi A8 pulled up and stopped in front of Anshon’s Chevy. When the tinted window slid down, Deck simultaneously raised the MAC-11, hoping and praying that whoever was in the Audi tripped.
Wood C and Anshon pressed their bodies against the door in case Deck made up his mind to bust off through the front windshield.
“It’s a bitch,” Deck said, slowly lowering the MAC-11.
Anshon rose up and saw Larrisha sitting behind the wheel. She had changed a little over the years, but for the most part, she still looked the same. He picked up his .50 and got out. It was hard as hell to hide the gorilla in his pants.
“Where dey at? And how the fuck you know about my sister?” Anshon fired his questions before Larrisha could even get all the way out of the car.
“Anshon . . . we have to sit down and I’ll tell you all this from the start. I know you are upset, but please,” she said, slightly above a whisper.
“Yo, you don’t want it wit’ me, kid. For real you don’t.” He was tempted to pull that gold .50.
Larrisha remained calm. Anshon heard a car pulling up, so he stepped closer to Larrisha, never taking his eyes off her.
“Please, Anshon, follow me back to my house.”
“Where’s Fe-Fe?” Anshon asked. “I thought you said she knew.”
“She does, but she doesn’t know everything.” His gut instinct told him not to go, but he needed to find out what Larrisha knew about his sister’s death.
Anshon rode with Larrisha to her house, while Wood C and Deck followed behind in his car.
Once inside, Larrisha asked if anyone wanted anything to drink. They all declined. Larrisha sat down and looked at Anshon.
“So, what’s up? I ain’t come here to flirt,” Anshon said sarcastically.
Larrisha crossed her legs, clearing her throat. “I’ll start from the very beginning. You already know that I work at the bank—or I used to. Fe-Fe caught the tail end of everything going on, but I was there from the beginning. There’s a teller at the bank who I believe is tied up in your sister’s murder.”
“Who, how, and why?” Anshon asked.
“Please let me explain. Your sister made a four hundred dollar withdrawal, but a glitch in the system said it was four hundred grand. Fe-Fe checked the account and saw that it was wrong. When she left that day in a panic, she dropped the bank slip. I picked it up and checked the account behind her.”
“And?”Anshon said, wanting her to hurry up and get to the point. “Fuck all that. Who the fuck killed my big sis?”
Larrisha sighed, uncrossing her legs. “See, I started to notice how after every big withdrawal being made that the teller, Kristi, would leave. And the next day, somebody would end up robbed, shot, or found dead. Well, the day that Tammy came into the bank, Kristi made up a lie about her daughter being sick and needing to leave.
“I know I should not have, but I followed her. First, she went to the Crabtree Valley Mall. I thought I was wasting my time until I saw Kristi park and get into a white Mercedes truck. That’s when I started paying close attention. Forty minutes went by, and then she pulled out. I was right behind her, and she never noticed me.
“Five minutes after she pulled out of the parking lot, I noticed that Kristi was making the same turn that a motorcycle was making.”
“She was driving my sister’s truck.” Anshon swallowed hard. His blood pressure was starting to rise. Deck and Wood C remained silent.
“I stayed on Kristi’s tail,” Larrisha continued, “but I lost her on a back road in Nashville. As I sat waiting for the light to turn green, I noticed her cross back over the street and turn down a dirt road. When the light changed, I followed the skid marks.
“The same guy that was on the motorcycle was waiting there for Kristi. Then Kristi dumped the truck and hopped on the back of the bike. They looked around and then took off.
“When I pulled alongside of the truck, I saw the car registration and driver’s license on the front seat. That’s when I saw that it was your sister, Tammy, so I called the police with an anonymous tip.”
“So it’s that bitch Kristi? I’ma kill her! And the bike . . . that’s Wallo. I swear to God they’re done!” Anshon felt like breaking down crying, but he was determined to hold it together.
“What the fuck you trying to do?” Larrisha snapped. “Go to jail? Just chill for a minute. You can’t always show your hand.”
Anshon shot her a look. The last time he heard that, it was when Wallo said it. “Go on and finish,” he said.
Larrisha took a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s just Kristi. I believe I know who else is involved, but I need to be sure before I give you a name.”
“Why the hell are you telling me all of this?” Anshon clenched his jaw. “Why the hell you ain’t tell the police?”
Larrisha looked dead into his eyes. “I have a brother, Anshon. My brother, Von, was in the pool hall that night with Doughnut’s baby mother. Doughnut could have killed my brother, so I know if I was in your shoes . . . let’s say this: Don’t let my feminine looks fool you. I’ll kill for my brother and still put my lip gloss on straight.”
Anshon’s eyes started to fill up with tears. Larrisha knew that his pain was hurting him deep. She felt like crying herself.
Anshon realized that his sister was tortured for money she didn’t have. Tears rolled down his face. His vision blurred as Deck and Wood C stood there trying not to cry.
“Yo,” Wood C spoke for the first time. “How you livin’ so large? I know these cribs out here cost ’bout three hundred Gs or more. And my man said you had a Boxter and now you pushin’ an Audi. Your clown-ass brother ridin’ in a Volvo with spinners. How we know you ain’t followin’ peeps and doin’ your thang? Answer that.”
Anshon wiped his eyes then glared at Larrisha. Wood C was dead on the money.
Larrisha ignored the remark about her brother as she reached for her Marc Jacobs tote bag from the floor. She opened it then pulled out a business card and handed it to Wood C.
L&K Investment Consultants
We Research, Observe, Borrow,
Keep Investments Limited and Legit
Ms. L. Maynard and Ms. K. Batts
Larrisha allowed him a few seconds to study the card before she explained the legal hustle she ran with her brother. Wood C looked up.
“We research the stock market, New York Stock Exchange,” Larrisha continued, “the Amex and Nasdaq to find the hot commodities or a company that will soon be in a real high demand. We then observe the buying trend of that market, and if it looks good, we borrow money to buy shares or make an investment. Our motto is to keep investments limited. That way we never take a big loss if things flop, and of course”—She smiled—“we keep all our business legit.”
Larrisha pulled the diamond pin from her hair then explained to Anshon how she had a plan that she felt would work . . . a plan that her brother didn’t agree with, but she didn’t care. Anshon was all ears. All he wanted was a name, but for now, he’d play her game.
* * *
Anshon, Wood C, and Deck made it back to Selma before twelve that night. Monica was in the bed asleep, but she quickly woke up.
“Anshon, baby, what’s going on?”
He gave her the short version, leaving out some details on purpose. Then he took off his clothes, showered, and changed.
“Deck and Wood C in the living room waiting on me,” he said before leaving again. “We gon’ run by Ms. Johnnie Ray’s shot house. I promise I’ll be back by three.”
Monica didn’t really want him to go, but she felt that she had no choice. “Okay, baby.”
Anshon took the back seat in Wood C’s 300C as they headed to get their drink on. When they pulled up, they found the spot packed. The twins saw Wood C’s 300C and waved him over to park behind their chromed-out minivans.
“’Sup, dawg? E’rythang straight?” Teck said, giving them some dap. Wallo followed his brother’s lead.
“Look, Anshon,” Wallo said, “I know we had some words the other day, but it’s all good. We still peoples and shit. I’m sorry to hear about Tammy. I just found out. I was down in Murfreesboro. My aunt died.”
Anshon nodded his head to make them think that everything was straight.
“A’ight,” Teck said. “First round on me.”
“Y’all just gettin’ here?” Anshon asked, going up the stone steps.
“Yeah. Fid’na get tipsy then find somethin’ to smash,” Teck replied.
Inside the 1930s-built house, the music was blasting, and a thick haze of smoke filled the living room. Big-titty Gale was solo dancing on the worn-out carpet with a glass of gin in one hand and a cup of O.J. in the other. Al Green’s music was helping her to get her groove on.
In the kitchen, two old heads were beefing at each other over a dominos game, while Fernistein stood at the gas stove frying chicken. Teck and Wallo had stopped cooking food in the yard, so Ms. Johnnie Ray started selling food again.
Staying true to his word, Teck pulled out his knot and hit Freddy off to pay for the first rounds of brew. Freddy ran the liquor spot with Ms. Johnnie Ray, along with a short temper and an even shorter sawed-off pistol-grip pump.
On the low, this spot was a brothel, so Freddy and Ms. Johnnie Ray could also be held liable as pimps. They had two Mexicans from Smithfield that were far from attractive, but that was okay, because it was pussy they were selling.
The taller one with the black hair signaled Wallo out and talked him into following her to the back. Teck shook his head then turned to Anshon, Wood C, and Deck.
“Why you in such a good mood?” Anshon shouted to Teck over Al Green playing in the background.
“You ain’t heard?” Teck moved in closer. “I beat the McMillan basketball team today!”
“Yeah, right,” Wood C replied, leaning on the freezer.
“Word, dawg,” Teck proclaimed.
“Who was all out there?” Anshon asked, finding it hard to believe.
Teck held a finger up as he downed his cup of gin. “Whew!” He pounded his chest, as the gin caused a burning sensation. “Shit like moonshine! But anyway, Markie was out there . . . Clevan, Kayo, Varis, Fonz and his brother, and some herbs from Micro.”
“What was the score?” Anshon asked before he sipped his gin and juice.
“We won by one. Twenty-one to twenty,” Teck bragged. He then went on to tell them about Janis out in Johnston Court in Smithfield. She was having a welcome home party for her sister, who had pulled a five-year bid. They all wondered who would be the lucky man to bust that pussy wide open.
Deck finished with the Latin whore in the back and then excused himself to go make a call. He dipped out to the front yard to use his cell phone and called Don. His 14-year-old sister, Fatima, picked up on the sixth ring.
“Who dis?” Fatima asked.
“Don in?” Deck asked.
“Nope.”
“Where he at?”
“I’on’t know. He left on a motorcycle about an hour ago.”
“Who bike he on?”
“I’on’t know, boy. Ain’t keepin’ tabs on him.”
“A’ight. Just tell ’im to call me and to bring my clippers next time he come by my crib.”
“Okay, bald head.” She giggled before she hung up.
Deck flipped his phone closed then headed back inside. In the corner, he saw Anshon and Teck in a deep conversation. Wood C was tripping out with Gale, dancing and sipping on gin. Every new song that came on, she would raise an arm in the air and shout, “Dat’s my shit!”
The scene kinda took Deck back to the good old days. Club 82, back in 1994 . . . man, he missed those days. If there was beef, it was settled with the hands, but now it was all about the chrome or metal.
He went up to Freddy and bought a cup of gin with no chaser, then posted up against the freezer to watch Wood C get his clown on.
Anshon moved from the corner to sit on a stool as Teck went to take a piss. He yelled out for Freddy to fill one up for him with a squirt of juice. He spun around on the stool to come face to face with the second Mexican chick.
“You wanna go talk?” she said with a slight accent.
“Nah, I’m good, senorita,” he said, turning her down.
“Are you sure? I bet I can suck your dick all the way down my throat.”
“No haps on this one.”
She said something under her breath in Spanish then stepped off. Freddy handed him his drink a few seconds later. This would be his last round.
He later joined Wood C, Teck, and some dude from Kenly at the dominos table. He was feeling good as hell.
Wallo was getting his major trick action on with the Mexican. First he had her snort a line of powder off the length of his erect dick, then had her suck him off. He got souped up then rolled on a jimmy and fucked her doggy style in the back bedroom. He spanked her and told her to call him Daddy. After he paid for her services, he went to the bathroom and walked in on big-titty Gale.
“Boy!” she shouted. “You see me in here. Get the fuck out!”
Deck was done with the gin. It was time to get his smoke on. Oh yeah, Freddy also sold some phat joints, and the weed was straight! Freddy stayed busy as Deck asked him for some hot sauce for his chicken.
“A nigga feeling good tonight,” he joked.
About six or seven minutes later, Wallo exited the bathroom. Taking a large bite from his greasy chicken, Deck went to empty his bladder. From across the room, Teck yelled out that he was on his last domino.
Deck staggered into the bathroom and kicked the door closed behind him. He was halfway finished pissing when he heard someone cough behind him. He nearly pissed on his jeans as he reached for his .32. The cough came from behind the dingy shower curtain. Deck opened it with the stubby barrel of his .32. only to find Gale curled up in the tub with a bloody mouth. Deck used to kick it with her niece back in the days, and Gale had once hid him in the closet when his P.O. was looking for him. So, he felt close to her. He put up his .32 then reached down to help Gale out of the tub.
“What the hell you doin’, Gale?”
“One of dem twins tried to make me suck his dick,” she murmured.
“Say what!”
“Don’t cause no trouble, Deck,” she pleaded as Deck helped her stand up.
“Did he hit you?”
“Yeah . . . but it ain’t nothing. I’ma be fine.”
“Look,” Deck said, reaching for a towel. “Clean yourself up and go home.”
She pushed the towel away with a frown on her face. “Get dat nasty thing outta my face. Dem Mexicans might be using dat to wipe their funky tails.”
Deck saw that she was fine, just had a small cut on her lip. Leaving her, he went back into the living room to find Anshon, Wood C, and Teck getting up from the dominos table. He searched for Wallo and found him standing by the door, feeling up on the second Mexican.
Deck approached the group just as Teck was telling Anshon and Wood C that they should roll with them to Johnston Court. Wallo walked over to his brother’s side. Deck was waiting for an opening in the conversation; then he played his part.
“Y’all hear about Robert?” Deck asked the group.
“Nah, what up?” Teck asked.
“Man, that lame-ass coward got locked up for beatin’ on his girl. Said he broke her arm or some shit.”
“Word?” Anshon replied.
“Yeah,” Deck continued with his eyes locked on Wallo. “To me, a nigga is a straight bitch if he hits a woman.”
“Fuck you mean-muggin’ me fo’?” Wallo said, returning Deck’s glare.
“’Cause you’s a lame-ass nigga. That’s why!”
“Hold up, Deck!” Anshon put his hand on Deck’s chest. He looked at Deck like he was crazy. Hell, he was fuckin’ up the plan they had.
“Yeah, hold up, nigga!” Teck jumped in. “You got beef with my brother?”
“Fuck you and your coward, bitch-ass brother, nigga!” Deck snapped.
“Say what!” Teck reached under his Zoo York shirt. Wallo did the same, but they were slow to the punch, as Wood C had his two .40s aimed at their chests.
“What the fuck?” Anshon shouted as he tried to calm things down. “Deck, what’s up?”
Wood C kept his two pistols aimed at the twins, while Deck told Anshon what Big Gale had just laid on him. Anshon nodded his head.
“Wood C, put the heat up.” He turned to Teck and Wallo. “Y’all need to roll out. I’ll call you tomorrow, Teck,” Anshon said as the twins walked toward their new Nissan minivans.
“Yeah, dawg,” Teck shouted over his shoulder. “And you betta let Deck and Wood C know wassup. We got guns too. I’ma let this shit ride, but a nigga come at me or my brother sideways again ain’t gonna be no talkin’. Nigga betta keep ya third eye peeled open.”
“Don’t be makin’ no threats on my fam,” Anshon warned him.
Teck sucked his teeth. “Fuck you! You better be easy, nigga, ’cause you could get it too. Matter of fact, fuck all you bitches. Y’all can suck my dick!”
“You got a lot of mouth,” Anshon snapped.
“You don’t put fear in my heart. Nigga, you must got me mixed up with Tom-Tom.”
“Let it go, Teck,” Anshon said.
“Come to Durham and get put to sleep, cowards. You betta recognize.”
“Teck!” Wallo called out to his brother. “Fuck all this lip-boxin’. Let’s roll on them niggas. They know where we live at. Fuck ’em.”
As the twins drove off, Wood C moved beside Anshon and Deck.
“You know we got beef with them clowns,” Wood C said, pulling out a Newport. “What was that Tom-Tom remark about?” Wood C asked.
Anshon played it off by shrugging his shoulders. “Check this,” Anshon said. “Them clowns even bend a blade of grass in my yard, I’ll kill ’em. Yo, take me home. I’m done for tonight.”
* * *
Early the next morning, Constance was at the Super 8 Motel in Smithfield with Wallo. She was on her elbows and knees as he drilled her from the back. Sweat coated her naked body as their moans filled the dark room. Her ass was jiggling like jelly as his hips smacked into her ass over and over. She clutched the pillow in her hands as her pussy started to tingle. She loved to get fucked this way.
“Harder!” she shouted over her shoulder then threw her left hand back to place it on his sweaty stomach. She felt him grip her waist tighter, pulling her back against his strokes. She arched her ass higher in the air and started breathing through her mouth. “I’m gonna cummmm!” she moaned.
At the same time in the room next door, Kristi sat on the bed beside Teck, watching TV. It was the first time she’d seen him since Tammy’s murder.
“What’s wrong wit’ you?” Teck asked.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Just had a long day, that’s all.”
“Yeah, right.” He frowned. “You still think we holdin’ out on the money, huh? I told you she didn’t have shit on her.”
“Look.” She looked at him. “ I saw the bank statement myself! I know she had the money . . . but she didn’t have to die for it. Did you let her see your face or something?”
“Yeah, and she saw my tattoo. Plus she called my name and accused me of shooting her the first time.”
“Well, you did!”
“So the fuck what! That’s why I had to do her in this time. I know she would’ve told.”
“Goddamn, Teck!” Kristi screamed. “We made a deal that nobody would get killed. That’s what the masks are for. Goddamn, first the robbery in the club that night got fucked up by Doughnut, and now this!”
“Fuck all that,” Teck said. “We wouldn’t be so behind if you hadn’t fucked up most of the $287,000 we robbed Tammy of from the first heist!”
Kristi rolled her eyes. “That still isn’t an excuse to kill.”
“Like you got a damn conscience now. You driving a Lex with blood money.”
“This is a bunch of crap,” she huffed. “Whatchu say!”
“Nothing. Just drop the issue.”
He switched the TV off and told her to shut up and undress. Reluctantly, she did as he asked.
Back in Constance’s room, she was having the same conversation with Wallo, and she, too, wanted to know why they had killed Tammy. She just couldn’t understand it, especially after the way shit backfired with Doughnut. Plus, she didn’t receive her usual cut and was tired of all this robbing with nothing to show for it. Sure, she had a new Benz, but she was still struggling to make ends meet.
At first things were okay, but then they started to get out of hand. Now she felt like they were robbing for anything. Now they were making licks for something as petty as five grand. Constance was starting to get a bad feeling about the entire setup. Sure, she loved Wallo and had a baby with him, but she would quickly draw the line when it came to going to prison because of him. Ride or die was not on her mind. She knew how Anshon felt about his sister, and she had lost a lot of respect for her man behind Tammy’s death.
Kristi was now afraid of Teck, and her building fear pushed her toward betrayal. She loved him, but not that much. She agreed with anything he said to avoid beef. She was relieved when he got tired of her attitude and left.
She got out of bed and went to her sister’s room. Wallo had just left out on his motorcycle. Now Kristi and Constance were alone and scared. They quickly devised a plan to make sure they wouldn’t go down when the shit hit the fan.
* * *
Monica surprised Anshon when he got home. He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when she came in with her birth control pills in her hand. He watched her flush them down the toilet.
“Anshon, I want a baby,” she said with tears in her eyes.
It was a subject they had already spoken on, and Anshon was with it. They made love in the bathroom then moved to their bedroom. Each stroke, he told her how much he loved her and that she was the only woman for him. Although he had to keep pushing thoughts of Fe-Fe out of his mind, he was serious about what he told Monica.
Her nails dug into his waist as she clung to him. Monica was madly in love with Anshon and would do anything for him. She was whole-heartedly committed to him.
Earlier when Anshon was in Raleigh with Wood C and Deck, she drove to a gun shop in Benson and bought a pump that was now under the bed. She’d kill for her man, and when he planted his seed deep inside her, she cried out his name while her pussy exploded with pleasure.
* * *
Fe-Fe slid out of bed, trying to shake thoughts of Anshon from her mind. She tipped down the hall and peeked into the bedroom she’d fixed up for her sons. Her cousin had agreed to let them come and stay with her for a while. Fe-Fe couldn’t wait.
As she walked on the cold floor, she felt a chill go up her spine. She’d been sick for a little over a week now, and her breasts had been sore for a while. She reached in her bathroom cabinet and pulled out a pregnancy test kit she had purchased at Wal-Mart.
This was actually the second test she’d bought this week. The first test she took, she swore the results were wrong. Being that she was feeling better, she thought she’d try it again. She pissed on the tab then waited for the sign.
“Damn!” she muttered a few minutes later. It was just like the first one. “Fendisha Lloyd,” she said to herself, “how the hell did you let this happen?”
Right away, there was no question of who the child’s father was. The only problem would be telling him.