Chapter Sixteen
Petie was asleep when Ladelle and Biz rang the bell. They came in, sat on the sofa and told him how they’d caught another one of the kids on Edgecomb. Petie wanted to get back to the streets. He couldn’t stand it, being in the house all the time waiting for his body to heal.
”How’s that therapy coming along?” Biz asked Petie. Just looking at Petie made him want to catch all of those punks, one by one.
”It’s getting easier. I’m just anxious to get back to my old self, you know what I mean?” Petie’s speech was better now; his words were no longer slurred like before. It was just a matter of time. He had to be patient.
They decided to go for a ride. Ladelle told Petie that he had seen Des. ”She looked fucked up, dick. She smoking that shit. Bitch smoked her ass away. Her skin looked fucked up, too.”
”Yeah, I knew she was hitting the stem. Last time I hollered at her she didn’t look right to me. I threw her some crills and bounced,” Petie said while remembering how good she sucked dick. They stopped on 126th and Morningside, and Biz got out of Petie’s truck and strolled into a building to check on something. A black and gold SUV pulled up behind them. Rasheed got out and opened up on the truck. Biz was still inside the building when he heard gun play. He ran outside and returned fire. Petie was okay, but Ladelle had been hit in the shoulder. Biz jumped back in the truck and they took off after Rasheed. Rasheed knew he had hit them. He knew that at least one person was in the truck; he couldn’t see because of the tinted windows. He sped down 125th Street and turned on Fifth Avenue. He parked his truck, jumped out and ran into a building. He made a phone call and got the voicemail. Frustrated, he put his burner away and went back outside. He walked to Park Avenue and used the pay phone. He called 9-1-1 and reported a shooting involving a burgundy truck on 126th Street. He knew the police would snatch all those niggas up, whoever was in it. Before Rasheed got back to the building, Petie’s truck drove up alongside him and he was put to rest. He never lived to know if the police picked them up or not.
Ladelle was bleeding badly. He would have to go to the emergency room this time. It wasn’t like previously, when his mother was able to do some homemade surgery and removed the bullet before stitching him up.... His side was burning. He lay across the back seat as Biz drove to Harlem Hospital.
After being released from the hospital, Kalif couldn’t wait to get uptown. One of his chicks called him and told him that Rasheed was dead. Kalif screamed at the cab driver, telling him to hurry the fuck up. Finally he got to Harlem Hospital, where Rasheed had been pronounced dead on arrival. Kalif punched a window, shattering it to pieces. A few nurses who were standing nearby tried to calm him down, but it was useless.
Kalif called LeRoy and told him to come and get him. He lit a cigarette and stared up at the sky as he waited for him outside the hospital’s front entrance.... Niggas killed my brother. Shit is getting critical, he thought.
LeRoy pulled up and hopped out of his Highlander, leaving it doubled-parked. Neither one of them knew what to say. ”Don’t worry; it ain’t over. Niggas still want the business. Well, we gon’ keep givin’ it to ‘em,” Leroy finally said. The look in Kalif’s eyes was homicidal. He was turning into a madman. He knew what had to be done, and they were going to do it.
Biz pulled up behind Harlem Hospital, unaware that Kalif and LeRoy were parked on the opposite side. He helped Ladelle into the emergency room, and Petie followed.
Biz walked outside and got back into Petie’s truck. He was going to drop off the burner he was carrying; he didn’t want the nurses asking questions, even though they had already put a story together.
Biz got to the light and noticed the police looking at the truck. It had bullet holes in it, and they would definitely want to know what had happened. The light changed and Biz took off, making sure to stay within the speed limit. The police turned on their siren and signaled for him to pull over. With their guns drawn, they approached the truck and ordered Biz to keep his hands where they could see them. Biz didn’t move. His heat was right next to him on the front seat. He had his hands on the steering wheel, and one officer approached him on the passenger side of the truck. The door was locked, and the tints on the window kept the officer from seeing the gun. Biz reached for his heat and fired through the passenger side window, hitting the officer in the chest. The other officer ran up and opened fire, and Biz died with the burner still in his hand.
Kalif and Leroy decided to hit Petie and his crew at home. ”I don’t give a fuck who in there—grandmother, aunt, kids...I don’t give a fuck. Everybody gon’ catch a bullet,” Kalif said. Yeah, he was definitely a wild child.
LeRoy needed to drop Kalif off to go and take care of some business. He would stand by him, but right now he had some other shit to tend to. He let Kalif out of the Highlander and headed to the Bronx.
Share and Will were back at her brownstone when she decided she wanted the beige puppy that looked like Bullet. Will turned on the news, and it was being reported that a police officer had been shot in front of McDonald’s on Lenox Avenue. The assailant was killed and the owner of the truck had reportedly been in a couple of shootouts that led to one man being treated at Harlem Hospital. The police were waiting to question them both. Share looked at Will. They were both thinking the same thing. Will hastily called BJ to make sure he was okay. He panicked when he got the voicemail. He didn’t yet know that Kalif’s brother, Rasheed, had been killed by Petie’s crew. He just knew that BJ was still hung up on everything that had happened.
Share was about to call Venus when the phone rang. It was BJ. The cell was on vibrate, and he didn’t feel it when Will had called. He said he was fine and on his way home. He would call when he got there.
Renee and the boys were eating when Petie called from the precinct. He couldn’t talk long, so he just told Renee the basics. The police had impounded his truck as evidence, Biz had gotten killed by the cops and Ladelle was in the hospital undergoing surgery. The bullet that hit him in the side had moved, and emergency surgery had to be performed before it got to his spine. In the midst of it all, one of the doctors in the ER notified the police that he was a gunshot victim.
Petie said the police had arrested him because they’d gotten a 9-1-1 call that identified his truck in the shootout, although he really felt he was being held because of his priors. He was sure it wasn’t because he was on parole. When he was in the hospital Renee had contacted his parole officer, and when he came home and started therapy, he had given him some room. Therefore, Petie knew that his being on parole wasn’t an issue. It was definitely his rap sheet.
Renee could hardly think with Ladelle in surgery. What if he doesn’t make it? Oh, she didn’t want to think about that. She had to stop thinking negative thoughts. But she couldn’t bare the thought of going on without him. They had been lovers for over a year now...all the romantic times, the erotic moments, the never-ending orgasms...no, this couldn’t be happening. She went back to the table and stared at her plate of food. She didn’t want to eat; she wanted to be in Ladelle’s arms.
Renee was at the precinct waiting to get Petie’s property. The officer at the desk was rude, as were all the other ones who had walked by her cutting their eyes. Fuck y’all, she said to herself. Her world was falling apart, and she really didn’t care what they thought. She just wanted to get to the hospital to see Ladelle.
