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Mack and Terry decided to temporarily shut down their drug operation. Their objective was to find out who was behind Shawn being robbed and their stash house being burglarized. With the understanding that no one could be excluded from being considered a suspect, every high positioned member of SP was informed that a drought had come. They were told that the drought was expected to last a while.
Feeling the pinch from not having any drugs to hustle, Boogs kept his eyes and ears open. The streets not only watched, but they also talked. In time information would surface and whoever was responsible would pay for their actions with their lives. Everyone laid low and remained attentive.
To Boogs’ relief, Reek had finally made it out of jail after the judge set his bail at seventy-five hundred dollars for the Felon in Possession of a Weapon charge. It pained him deeply to see his cousin in such a debilitated state. However, Reek’s unyielding resilience left Boogs no other choice but to remain strong and optimistic for him. Three days out of the week, Boogs picked him up, and escorted him to the rehabilitation center. He remained by his cousin’s side, encouraging him every step of the way. As Reek continued to grow stronger physically, Boogs grew more confident that he would eventually be back, or at least very close to normal.
Because of their complex schedule, Terry and Mack were unable to spend as much time as they would have liked with Reek. However, they made it their business to check up on him, and also to make sure he was fully taken care of financially.
Reek understood that he was involved in a very serious open case. He was also aware that Terry had been questioned by the same homicide detectives who attempted to interrogate him. With the understanding that it would have been foolish for them to remain in close contact with each other, they remained in touch while maintaining distance.
On a Wednesday morning, Boogs was preparing to pick Reek up when he got a call from Keith.
“Wassup, Keith?”
“Ain’t shit. Watchu up to?”
“I’m ‘bout to scoop Reek up and take him to the rehabilitation center.”
“Oh, yeah? Damn, I ain’t seen my nigga since before that shit popped off. Yo, I need a favor from you. I need you to take me to pick my truck up. I had to get the back end repainted. Some broad scratched my jawn up.”
“Aaight. Be ready in about twenty minutes. I’ma pick Reek up, then come and get you.”
“Good lookin’.”
They hung up. Boogs got into his pearl white Cadillac XTS and headed to Reek’s place. Once there, he wheeled him to the passenger side, helped him in, folded the wheelchair up, and placed it in the trunk.
“Keith asked me to pick him up,” Reek said, getting behind the wheel.
“Keith? I heard he was fuckin’ with Mack and T-Lova.”
“Yeah, the bawh been down with the team for a minute now.”
“I don’t know how that li’l nigga wiggled his way in.” Reek shook his head.
“Wasn’t that your li’l man?”
“I fucked with him, but I knew he wasn’t loyal. He was dealin’ with them grimey ass twins, and they was filling his head with a bunch of bullshit. He didn’t give a fuck about the movement, it was all about him.”
“I’m glad you put me onto his ass.” Boogs pulled over in front of Keith’s apartment, then called him on his cell phone letting him know they were outside.
Three minutes later Keith was out of the door. He trotted over to the Cadillac and hopped in the back seat. “Wassup, cannon?” Keith said to Reek, excitedly.
“I’m coolin’. Wassup with you?”
“You already know. I’m tryin’ to make it happen.”
“I hear you doin’ big things now.” Reek turned the upper, mobile half of his body so he could get a better look at Keith.
“Nah, I ain’t doing it big, yet, but I’m finally getting my chance to shine.”
“That’s wassup,” Reek responded, not particularly interested in what Keith had to say.
“Where’s your truck at?” Boogs asked as he pulled away from the curb.
“Oh, it’s at Impressions in South Philly.”
“Aaight.” Boogs headed in that direction. They engaged in small talk until he made it to the repair shop.
“Damn, Keith. The shop’s not open yet,” Reek said.
“Fuck! They supposed to be open. Go around to the back and see if they left my whip back there.”
Boogs released a sigh of frustration, but did as he was asked. Once there, Keith scanned the area. His truck was nowhere in sight.
“Give me a second. Let me run to the back door and see if someone’s inside.”
Boogs threw the car in park and Keith bolted out. In a matter of seconds he was back. “Nobody’s there.”
“So, what you gonna do?” Boogs asked. He turned in his seat only to come face to face with a huge semi-automatic handgun.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Keith sent three rounds from his .45 into Boogs’ head. The high velocity slugs shattered his skull. It’s thick, red contents decorated the windshield, dashboard, and left side of Reek.
Reek sat there in complete shock, staring at the half-headed, bloodied corpse that was once his cousin. His ears were still ringing from the deftly loud gun bursts.
“Mack thinks you’re snitchin’,” Keith said. The raw words snapped Reek out of his state of shock.
“Nah, man. Mack know I ain’t no rat...why you killed my cousin?” Reek couldn’t stop himself from sobbing as the pungent copper smell filled the car. “You ain’t have to kill him, man.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Keith aimed his gun at Reek. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re tellin’ or not. Both of ya’ll gotta go. Your bitch ass ain’t never want to put me on, but I got on anyway. Once you get back in the game, I ain’t never gon’ blow up.”
“Keith, you ain’t gotta do this.”
“Fuck you, it’s done.” Keith fired two close range shots into the left side of Reek’s head. The bullets exited the right side, causing a mixture of blood and brain matter to flow out of the gaping holes.
Keith quietly, but carefully, wiped down every section of the car that he touched, and then got out. He opened the driver’s door, took Boogs’ phone, and left the two bodies slumped in the car...