It's Like Candy (36 page)

As Cash counted money, Pepper noticed a man coming toward them, but she really paid him no mind. He was dressed like one of the crack locals in the area. He was clad in tattered pants, dirty sneakers, and wore a long stained and ragged brown trench coat in the spring weather.

Pepper thought he was out of his mind and turned her attention elsewhere. Cash glanced up and saw the man, but ignored him, too. He thought that he was just a harmless crackhead.

As they sat in the Benz, the stranger approached the car. He discreetly reached into his coat and walked up to the driver's side.

“Yo, you got a light?” the stranger asked.

“Get the fuck away from my car, you dirty crackhead!” Cash screamed. “Fuck off!”

“Fuck you!” the man shouted back. He suddenly reached into his dirty trench coat and pulled out a double-barrel shotgun.

Cash was wide-eyed.

Boom!
Bishop blew Cash's head clean off at close range, leaving a bloody mess all over the windshield, dashboard, seats, and even Pepper.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!”
Pepper screamed frantically, covered in Cash's blood with half his head in her lap.

Bishop stared at her with ice-cold eyes, raised his shotgun again and fired—
boom!
He air-conditioned her by putting a basketball-size hole in her chest.

Barnes pulled around the corner in a blue Chevy truck and Bishop got in on the passenger side and they quickly took off.

N.O. was blocks away when he heard the echo of the loud shotgun blast that killed his friend Cash, and Pepper.

sleepy, who was Rome's younger brother,
was chilling and smoking in a small Jamaican restaurant on Ralph Avenue with a few of his friends.

Sleepy was a notorious hustler in Brooklyn and fed off his older brother's reputation. He wasn't feared like his older brother, but he did have a reputation. He was accompanied by two of his friends in the place that night, and they joked and waited for their orders.

“Sleepy, what up wit' that bitch you met the other night, you gonna pass her on to me?” a friend of his joked.

“Fucked that bitch,” Sleepy replied. “She ain't tryin' to fuck. Bitch pussy probably stank anyway.” Clad in a throwback Chicago
Bulls jersey and Nike sneakers, he was sporting cornrows and wore platinum around his neck and wrist.

“Niggah, your game falling off. Let me find out, Sleepy,” his other man said. He was leaning back in the chair, and noticed two thuggish-looking men entering the joint. He tapped Sleepy and gestured at the two. “Check it out.”

Bishop and Barnes walked into the restaurant and focused their full attention on Sleepy, their eyes never leaving his. Both men had on black denim jackets and jeans, looking casual.

“What up? Your name Sleepy, right?” Barnes asked.

“Niggah, do I fuckin' know you?” Sleepy responded harshly, glaring at Barnes and Bishop and feeling secure around his boys.

“I know your brother . . . we go way back,” Barnes said. “Word,” Sleepy uttered nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I need you to give him a message for me,” Bishop continued.

“And what's that?” Sleepy asked.

“Fuck you and him!” Barnes shouted, and then quickly pulled out a .45 and opened fired.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

“Oh, shit!” Sleepy's man shouted as he reached for his gat, but abruptly caught a shot to his head by Bishop's hand cannon.

Panic spread throughout the restaurant as bystanders ran out screaming or took cover behind chairs and tables. Sleepy's other friend ran out the door after the first couple of shots.

Just the way they came in, Barnes and Bishop casually walked out and got into their truck and drove off.

Reality hurried his baby-mom
into the car, cursing at her for being a stupid bitch. Even though he was a killer, he cared about his family, and hustling in the streets paid his bills and bought him and his son's mother a duplex condo near the Conduit.

“Bobby, why you being so stupid?” his baby-mother, Nicole, shouted. “You trippin' right now!”

“Nicole, shut the fuck up!” he cursed.

Reality had a strong feeling that something was about to go down. He always listened to his gut instincts, and something told him to get his son's mother and their child out of her mother's home and get them out of town, or somewhere safe. He survived on the streets by being smart. He was unaware of Cash's and Sleepy's murder.

“Bobby, what about T.J.? It's four o'clock in the morning. I know you ain't tryin' to wake our son up this fuckin' early in the morning,” Nicole barked.

Reality sighed as he opened the trunk to his Lexus and retrieved his 9-mm Beretta and checked the clip. It was fully loaded. He concealed the gun in his waistband and closed the trunk. But something caught his immediate attention. A car was slowly creeping down his block in the dark.

He removed his gun, cocked it back and continued to watch the car creep. He gripped the Beretta and waited, thinking it was his nerves getting to him.

His cell phone suddenly went off. Reality answered the call with his eyes still glued on the car.

“Who this?” Reality asked.

“Reality, we got hit hard tonight. They got Cash, Pepper, and Sleepy, Rome's little brother,” N.O. informed Reality. He sounded frantic.

“What?” Reality exclaimed.

“It was a hit. We got set up,” N.O. stated.

“Fuck!” Reality shouted. His eyes stayed glued to the black BMW creeping his way. He knew it was a hit. Suddenly tires screeched and guns came out the front and back windows.

“Nicole, get down!” Reality shouted.

Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!
-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat!-Tat! Glass shattered as dozens of rounds penetrated Reality's Lexus.

“Aaaaaahhh!
Bobby! Bobby!” Nicole screamed, ducking and trying to get out of the car.

Reality took action, firing shot after shot at the BMW. But the occupants of the car were bold, and the car stopped and two men stepped out, gripping guns and firing rapidly as they started to approach Reality even closer.

An all-out shootout transpired on the street. Reality tried not to panic as his car took on heavy gunfire.

“Nicole! Nicole!” he shouted. He started to fear the worst.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Reality could hear the shots coming closer. He quickly stood up and returned fire, almost emptying his clip. He knew he was doomed.

“Die like a man, muthafucka!” Jerry shouted. He was part of Barnes's deadly crew.

“Fuck you!” Reality shouted back.

Suddenly Reality heard the sounds of distant police sirens coming toward them. He would never have thought that hearing a siren would be music to his ears.

Jerry glanced at his partner and they both ran back to the car and sped off. Reality stood up, knowing that they had left, and went to see about Nicole. She was sprawled out in the front seat.

“Baby, get up!” Reality shouted, pulling Nicole out of the car. “C'mon, baby . . . don't do this to me . . . get up.”

She had been shot twice; one bullet hit her in the shoulder and the other bullet struck her in the abdomen. Reality had to think quickly. He hid his gun in a stash box in the Lexus, and signaled for the police to help.

Two squad cars were rapidly on the scene, and two officers rushed out of their cars with their guns out, and shouted to Reality, “Get on the ground now!”

“My girl is shot!” Reality shouted back.

“Get on the ground!” the officer loudly and firmly repeated himself with his gun trained on Reality's head.

Reality reluctantly complied. He got down on his knees and locked his fingers behind his head, but he continued to shout, “My girl is shot. Y'all need to fuckin' help her!”

Two officers went to check on Nicole while one kept his gun aimed at Reality.

One cop got on the horn, and said, “Dispatch, we need a bus at South Conduit, and . . .”

for starr the nighmares
were continual, almost every other day. Bamboo's murder still lingered in her mind, and her mother's violent abuse still haunted her.

Starr remembered being thirteen and hearing her mom in the bathroom getting high. She slowly walked to the bathroom, noticing the door ajar, and saw her mother getting high while sitting on the toilet.

Her mother was naked, her eyes were drowsy, and that's when Starr saw the needle stuck in her arm. That's when Starr knew her mother had finally graduated to using heroin.

Sheryl looked over at her daughter standing in the hallway, and she slurred, “Starr, baby . . . c'mere.”

Starr reluctantly walked into the bathroom, seeing that it was a mess.

“Starr, you know Mommy loves you, right?” Sheryl exclaimed, peering at her daughter as she moved her hand through her hair.

“This makes the pain go away. Your father was a bitch-ass niggah who couldn't handle himself or this family,” Sheryl mumbled.

Starr's face tightened when her mother spoke disrespectfully about her father. She knew the true reason why her father had left, though
she kept her mouth shut. But every day, she missed him dearly. And every day Starr wished her father would come back and rescue her from hell on earth. But it never happened.

“So what, I fucked a few niggahs? He couldn't handle it, my pussy was too much for him. Your father wasn't much of a man, if you know what I mean,” Sheryl continued.

“But he took care of us,” Starr replied suddenly.

“He couldn't take care of shit! He left. He doesn't give a fuck about you and your sister. . . . They both abandoned us. We gotta help take care of each other, baby. Pussy is our business. Men love us. And they love you,” Sheryl proclaimed as she opened her legs and began touching herself.

Starr gazed at her mother in fright. Her mother was unpredictable at times. She could be so calm and cool one moment, and then be-come a raging, out-of-control, abusive bitch the next.

“Selling my pussy and gettin' high is what gets me by every day, baby. . . . I'm just teaching you about life. Shit ain't fair for us, Starr. . . . Life is hell, so we gotta find ways to make it to heaven without dying,” she stated. “And this is one way.”

Sheryl pulled the needle out of her arm, and then said, “You down?”

Starr was shocked and appalled. She slammed the bathroom door and ran back to her bedroom.

Starr was abruptly awakened by a loud crash coming from the living room. She was jolted out of sleep, sweating and wide-eyed.

“I'm gonna murder that niggah where I find him!” she heard Rome scream from the other room. “I'm gonna fuck his ass up! I'm gonna kill that muthafucka! He don't know who he fuckin' wit!!”

Starr heard more crashing sounds like something breaking, maybe glass. Starr got out of bed and started to go and find out what all the commotion was about.

Dynasty and another girl ran into the bedroom, looking as if they were taking cover.

“Dynasty, what's up, girl? What's goin' on out there?” Starr asked. “Someone murdered Rome's brother, Sleepy, the other night,” Dynasty informed Starr with tears trickling down her face. “And they killed Cash and Pepper.”

“Ohmygod!” Starr whispered, cupping her mouth.

“Rome is fuckin' furious,” Dynasty said.

All three girls remained in the bedroom until Rome calmed down or left the apartment. They knew better than to get in his way and risk his wrath. He might end up killing one of them in his frenzy.

Eric drove aimlessly in his car,
collecting his thoughts. He was in a bind, and he tried to think of the best way to come out of his situation alive. He'd become an informant for the feds and the DEA, and agreed to testify against his cousin in court. That didn't bother him, but knowing that Russell had kidnapped River, killed his uncle, and that both his friends were dead was messing with his head.
This game is spiraling out of control,
Eric told himself.

Eric knew that he had done a lot of wrong in his life, and he told himself that he would start making things right for himself and River if he got a second chance.

He got on his cell phone and called up Russell. They needed to talk. Russell picked up after the third ring, knowing it was Eric. “Where you been, cuz?” Russell asked.

“Is she okay?” Eric asked, not beating around the bush.

Russell let out a slight chuckle. “She's good. I ain't touch her, not yet, anyway. You disappoint me, Eric. I thought you were stronger than this. You gonna let pussy come in between us?”

“What the fuck is wrong wit' you, Russell? You had to shoot Uncle Pumpkin? He was our fuckin' uncle!” Eric barked.

“Niggah, you know better—not over the phones. But you're a snake muthafucka, E!” Russell chided.

“Fuck you talkin' about?”

“I told you, no deals outside of the family. And what do you do?
Continue dealing with that Brooklyn niggah. You think I wouldn't fuckin' find out. I told you, no fuckin' secrets. And you had the nerve to hide this bitch at our uncle's crib, after she set you up.”

“You don't control me, Russell. This is my life and you need to stay the fuck out of it!”

“Niggah, I always had your back, and you betray me for this bitch,” Russell shouted.

“I never betrayed you! You always talk about family, but you don't know the first thing about family. All you do is kill, control, and hold grudges for every muthafucka that does you wrong. You killed Rah!”

“Eric, what I told you? Not over the phone.”

“We need to talk,” Eric stated.

“I'm listening.”

“I want River back.”

Russell laughed. “Niggah, you'll get this bitch back in pieces.” “Russell, please—don't hurt her! I'll pay you for her.”