“Me understand. Bloodshed came to close to me home wit’ me baby girl. Me will stand down if de Cartel will.”
Mecca yelled, “I’m-a murder your fucking daughter, mu’fucka. Fuck a truce, bitch. You took my father, I take her-Fair exchange ain’t no robbery!”
“Yuh kill me daughter, ah kill you sister, then what, young soldier? De Cartel has nothing to lose by calling a truce. Yuh keep yuh territory and we all gain peace of mind.”
Monroe knew that a truce made sense, but was reluctant to make a deal with the devil. “How do we know you will keep up your end?”
“Me a man. Me will keep me word. Me word is all me have.” Ma’tee held out his hand.
Monroe stared contemptuously at Ma’tee’s hand, rage burning in his heart from the fresh wound of his dead father. He knew that the truce was a wise decision, at least for the time being. He shook Ma’tee’s hand firmly, staring him in the eye. Monroe’s gaze was nothing short of menacing, and it held an underlying message. One that said he had not forgotten what Ma’tee had done to his father.
“We have an understanding. Now see yourself off of our property,” Monroe stated. He watched as the Haitians retreated and the limo disappeared beyond the security gates. Money turned to Mecca and said, “Go handle that stupid mu’fucka at the gates. Dead his ass. They should’ve never made it to the door.”
Mecca stormed out of the house and walked across the large manicured lawn while Ma’tee and his limo approached the steel gate. They reached the exit at the same time, and Ma’tee rolled down his window.
The guard posted at the gate looked at Mecca approaching and then shifted his gaze back to Ma’tee.
“I just thought you should know why you’re about to die,” Ma’tee said as he lit a cigar and rolled his window back up.
At that exact moment Mecca reached the guard and removed his chrome 9 mm Ruger.
“Me-Mecca, I didn’t know that was-” BOOM!
Mecca didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. The guard’s life was ended instantly as the hollow-point bullet ripped through his skull. Mecca then hit the button to open the gate for Ma’tee’s limo, and ice grilled the car as it rolled away toward safety.
Truce or no truce, I’m going to avenge Poppa’s murder. Niggas got me fucked up.
Carter was finally home after being in Miami for the past couple of weeks. He walked into his spacious two-bedroom that sat in a suburban area just outside Flint, Michigan. Carter took a deep breath as he realized how good it felt to be there. His condo was small but comfortable. He had just purchased it a year earlier. He always said, when his money got right, he would move out of the hood, and that’s exactly what he did.
The brick walls were ornamented with various Afro-centric paintings. A large picture of Bob Marley smoking a joint and playing his guitar hung above the fireplace. The place was definitely a bachelor’s pad, but Carter had decorated it pretty well. He tossed the duffle bag full of money onto his brown sectional sofa and pulled his gun from his waist and placed it on the bar-style kitchen countertop.
Carter was getting money in Flint, and it wasn’t a secret. For every getting-money dope man, there were a hundred broke niggas, so Carter knew that he was a target for the local stick-up kids in his old neighborhood. Moving out of the hood was not an option after Carter began to become a heavyweight in the streets.
Just as he was about to walk to the refrigerator and toss out some of the food he had left there, he heard a noise coming from the back. What the fuck was that? Carter scooped up his gun and listened closer. He heard commotion coming from his back room and knew that someone was trying to find his stash. His street instincts immediately kicked in. He switched his banger off safety and began to creep to the back.
As he got closer, he saw that his guest bedroom was where the noises were coming from. His door was closed, so he crept up and kicked it open, his gun drawn.
The big-butt Latino woman screamed, “Oh, daddy! Fuck me, papi!” as Ace beat it from the back.
The sounds of Ace’s balls smacking against the woman’s genitalia filled the air, and his chain jingled on his bare chest as he continued to sex the girl, while Carter pointed his gun at him. Carter smiled and lowered his gun as he chuckled to himself. He was laughing at how crazy his best friend was. He didn’t even stop pumping when he saw Carter bust in. The girl was so busy getting her back blew out, she didn’t even notice Carter come in.
Ace looked at his best friend and threw his head up, greeting him while still pleasing himself.
Carter walked out shaking his head from side to side. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave an extra set of keys with Ace. He’d told Ace to come in and check on his spot periodically, not bring his jump-offs there. “That nigga is wildin',” Carter said in irritation as he walked to his living room and tossed his gun on the couch.
Ace and Carter had been best friends since third grade and were more like brothers than anything else. Carter didn’t like the fact that Ace had a chick up in his spot, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to cock-block his man, but he was surely going to express his discomfort later.
Carter took a seat on his couch and felt his cell phone vibrate on his hip. He looked at the caller ID and smiled. It was Miamor calling. I got to stay focused. I’m going to get at her later, he thought to himself as a small grin spread across his face.
Carter wanted to pick up for her, but he wanted to stay focused on his brief return home. He was planning to move to Miami and get on his hustle. He figured Miami was a good place for him to take over and join the family business. He saw more money in the three weeks in Miami than in a year hustling in Flint. The move was a must for him.
Just as Carter finished his thought, Ace came from the back, buttoning up his Sean John jeans.
“Fam, what’s good? I thought you weren’t coming back for a week or so?” Ace walked over to the bar and rested his hands on the counter.
Carter remained silent and just looked at him with a piercing stare.
Ace knew that his right-hand man was upset with him, so he tried to make light of the situation. “Did you see that ass on that broad?” He nodded his head in the direction of the back room.
Just before Carter could tell Ace about himself, the naked Latino woman came walking out, and all eyes were on her. She walked out without a care in the world, as if she wasn’t butt naked. Her behind was so big, you could literally sit a cup on top of it and it wouldn’t move. The only thing she wore was red pumps, and her plump, voluptuous ass cheeks shifted sides with every stride. The nonstop jiggling had the two men in a trance.
“Hello, papi,” she said as she looked over at Carter on the sofa. She then turned to Ace and gave him a passionate kiss before walking over to the refrigerator and grabbing some orange juice.
“Ace, you didn’t tell me you were having company.” She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side.
Carter couldn’t believe his ears. His man Ace was stunting for a ho, pretending that it was his condo, rather than Carter’s.
Ace looked at him and read his mind. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “How could I not stunt for an ass like that?”
Carter shook his head and headed out the door. He motioned for Ace to follow him. Once they reached the door and out of earshot of the woman, Carter told him, “Have that trick out of my shit in an hour. You owe me a stack for fucking in my bed too, nigga. You buying me some new sheets and all.” Carter’s face was expressing his anger at that point. He peeked around the corner to get another look at the horse ass the woman was toting and then looked back at Ace. “Shorty got a fat ass, though,” he said as he smiled and stuck out his hand.