The Block (11 page)

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Authors: Treasure Hernandez

BOOK: The Block
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“Let's do this nigga right now,” Maxine pressed. “This nigga don't even know what we look like.”
“Too many witnesses in here,” Gruff said, looking around. “Plus, we been dropping mad bodies. God forbid, we get caught, them crackers gon' try to make an example out of us.”
Maxine sucked her teeth, but she knew what Gruff was saying was the truth. “I don't care how we do it, as long as it gets done.”
“Shit. That nigga should be thanking us, 'cause we doing him a favor.” Gruff downed another shot. “I know I'll rather get killed than go back to jail.”
Maxine gave him dap. “I know that's right.”
Gruff stood up. “Come on, let's go outside and wait for this clown.” On the way out he tossed his hood over his head and walked right past Tone and Young Mike the same way he had walked in.
“What you getting into when you leave here?” Young Mike asked.
“I'm gonna go home and fuck my girl until it's time for me to go to jail.” Tone laughed as he stood up and paid the tab.
“If I don't see you before you go in, hold ya head,” Young Mike said as he gave Tone a pound and a strong hug.
“That time gon' fly once I get in there.” Tone smiled as him and Young Mike exited the bar.
“Yo, you get home safe, a'ight,” Tone said as he walked over to his car and slid in the driver's seat. Once he was inside his car, he just sat there for minute just thinking about the decisions he had made in the last six months.
Mya came to his mind. He knew their relationship was over, but he didn't want any hard or negative feelings toward her.
Fuck it! The least I can do is go give her an apology.
Tone started the engine and headed for Mya's house.
As soon as Tone pulled out of the parking lot, Maxine slowly cruised out right behind him.
 
 
Tone pulled up in front of his old residence and got out the car. He walked up to the door and gave it a medium knock. Mya answered the door, still looking sexy, even with the big bulge in her stomach.
“Hey,” Tone said, looking Mya up and down.
“Hey,” Mya replied.
“Can I come in? Please, I need to talk to you.”
“Nah, I don't think that's a good idea.”
“Come on, don't act like that. I just need to talk to you. It'll only take five minutes.”
Mya stepped to the side so Tone could enter. “Five minutes is all you get.”
“Can I sit down?”
“No, you can stand,” Mya said, her arms folded across her chest.
“I just came over here to apologize about how we ended. You was nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I just wanted to say sorry, and I hope we can still be friends and hope you will allow me to see my baby.”
“Well, you should be sorry. I was ready to marry you and be your wife and the mother of your child, and you threw all that away for some stupid money.” Mya's eyes began to water. “And you didn't have to do it 'cause we already had enough money to last us almost a lifetime.”
Tone said quickly, “Four hundred thousand ain't lasting no lifetime.”
“You see, that's all you care about is money—money this, and money that. Well, you can take all that money and shove it up your ass!” she yelled, tears streaming down.
“Listen, I just came over here to tell you I was sorry. I didn't come here for all this.”
Just then they heard a knock at the door. Mya walked over to the door, looked through the peephole, then quickly opened it. In stepped the guy who was in the house the last time Tone was there, the one who was wearing the suit.
“Hey, baby. How you doing?” He leaned down and kissed Mya on the cheek. “These are for you,” he said, removing a dozen red roses from behind his back.
“Awwww, thank you, Russel,” Mya said as she gave him a hug.
Russel was about to say something, until he spotted Tone standing in the living room. Mya then introduced the two. “Russel, this is Tone. Tone, this is Russel.”
“Nice to meet you, brother,” Russel said, extending his hand.
Tone looked at Russel's hand like it was infected then looked back at Mya. “I'ma holla at you later. I just came by to say sorry.” Tone walked right past Russel's extended hand as he headed for the door.
“How rude,” Russel said in a proper tone.
Tone thought about turning around and smacking the shit outta that clown, but instead just decided to leave. “I'll holla at you later.” He opened up the door and stepped outside and saw two figures jogging in his direction. Immediately he stepped back inside the house, slammed the door, and tackled Mya to the floor.
“Hey, what do you think you're doing?” Russel said. “I'm calling 9-1-1.”
Before Russel could even reach the phone a loud series of gunshots hit the front door, blowing big chunks of wood from off the door.
Tone pulled out his .45 and quickly escorted Mya into the kitchen. “Here, stay down behind this counter.” He saw Russel running upstairs like a scared little bitch.
 
 
Gruff aimed his Uzi at the front lock, shot it off, then kicked open the front door. He stepped inside, slowly looking around, with a two-handed grip on his weapon. His eyes quickly turned toward the kitchen when he heard somebody sniffing like they was crying.
Tone quickly sprung up from behind the counter firing.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Gruff quickly ran around the corner and got low. He looked over at the door and gave Maxine hand signals to exactly where Tone was hiding.
“I see you, muthafucka!” Tone yelled as he sent two shots toward the front door, backing Maxine up.
Gruff popped up from around the corner and did an army roll as he squeezed the trigger on his Uzi. Tone ducked down just in time as him and Mya watched bulletholes rip through the refrigerator.
“Stop hiding, you little bitch!” Gruff yelled as he gave Maxine some more hand signals.
Upstairs, Russel grabbed the cordless phone off the charger and quickly dialed 9-1-1.
“Stay right here and don't move,” Tone whispered to Mya. He was praying nothing happened to their child that she was carrying.
Gruff emptied his whole clip on the counter, hoping a few bullets might've penetrated. “We gotta go!” He grabbed Maxine, and the two fled from the scene.
“Are they gone?” Mya asked with a scared-to-death look in her eyes.
Tone jumped up from behind the counter, holding his gun sideways. He quickly scanned the place. “Yeah, it looks like they gone.” He helped Mya to her feet. “I need a favor,” he said, holding out the gun. “I gotta get outta here before the cops get here!”
Mya looked at the gun for a second before she took it. “Go. Get outta here before you get caught.” She lifted up the cage on the top of the stove and sat the gun down before closing it back, like Tone had taught her a long time ago.
“And don't worry about the house,” Tone yelled over his shoulder as he ran up out the house. “I'll take care of it.”
“Baby, you okay?” Russel yelled from upstairs.
“Yeah, I'm fine. Get down here.”
“Oh my God!” he said, looking at all the bulletholes everywhere. “I don't think you should let him back in your house again.” Russel heard the sirens getting louder. “I think we should press charges when the cops get here.”
“When the cops get here, I need you to just be quiet. We didn't see nothing, and we don't know nothing,” Mya said, already knowing the drill.
With a raised eyebrow, Russel asked, “You sure you want to do that?”
“Positive,” Mya said sternly. “When they ask, we gon' say somebody just shot up our house and we ran for cover upstairs and didn't see nobody faces, okay?”
“I guess.” Russel couldn't understand why Mya didn't want to tell the police what really happened.
 
 
“Yo, pass that Dutch, nigga.” Maine snatched it from the hands of a young hustler. “Damn! You got the shit all wet and shit,” he complained as him, Young Mike, and a few other hustlers on the team stood in front of the building getting high, getting their drink on, and talking shit.
“Shit, all these li'l niggas just hanging around and shit,” Maine huffed. “Y'all niggas 'bout to have to start putting in work out here on these streets.”
Right on cue, a tall guy walked up with a hard jailhouse bop and a mean look on his face. Maine stepped in the tall man's path. “Yo, fam, who you coming to see in this hood?”
“What?” the tall guy said, his face in a frown.
Before he could even say another word, he felt a punch to the back of his head followed by a bottle being shattered over his head. The tall man hit the ground and felt hands and feet coming from all directions.
“That's enough,” Maine yelled, and him and his crew watched the tall man stagger back up to his feet, all bloody. Maine wagged his finger. “Don't come up in this hood again!”
Young Mike just sat over to the side sipping from his white foam cup, shaking his head. “Y'all niggas is mad dumb.”
Maine turned to face Young Mike. “Fuck is you talking about?”
“What if that nigga come back blasting?”
“What? You scared or something?”
Maine and the rest of the crew busted out laughing.
“Scared?” Young Mike echoed looking at Maine like he was crazy. “If he come back blasting, that's not good for business. You must've forgot—We in this for the money, not a rep.”
Maine stepped to Young Mike. “Yo, you got a problem with how I'm running shit?”
“Last I heard, Tone was still in charge,” Young Mike shot back.
“Tone goes to turn himself in tomorrow for five years,” Maine reminded him. “So therefore I'm in charge,” he said, pounding on his chest.
“Like I said, last I heard, Tone was still in charge. Until I hear otherwise, that's what it is.” Young Mike took another sip from his foam cup.
Maine was just about to steal on Young Mike, until one of the young hustlers yelled, “Damn! She got a fat ass!”
Maine looked in the other direction and saw a thick chocolate thing dressed half-naked headed toward the building they was standing in front of. From the looks of it, he could tell that she was just coming from the club.
“Damn, ma! Where the party at?” Maine grabbed the woman's arm, stopping her in mid-stride.
“What is you doing?” the woman yelled. She jerked her arm out of Maine's grip. “Don't put ya fuckin' hands on me! Fuckin' bum-ass niggas!”
“Bitch, who the fuck you talking to like that?”
“Nigga, I'm talking to you.” The woman looked Maine up and down, a look of disgust on her face. “Y'all muthafuckas don't know how to talk to a real woman. That's why y'all gon' always be standing in front of this building looking stupid.”
Just as she got ready to walk in the building, Maine snuffed her from behind, knocking her the fuck out.
The whole crew bust out, “Oooooohhhh!”
“Fuck is you doing?” Young Mike asked, shaking his head, helping the young lady get back to her feet.
“Look at this sucker-for-love-ass nigga.” Maine laughed, pointing at Young Mike.
“What you just call me?” Young Mike asked, dropping the woman back down to the ground. “You disrespecting me?”
“Yeah. Fuck you gon' do about it?”
Before Young Mike could reply, a younger hustler quickly jumped in front of him, so the two men wouldn't clash.

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