Thug Lovin' (4 page)

“Uhm, okay. Follow me.” Shaheem beamed.

Tasha’s heart rate sped up as they navigated around the cars parked on the lawn and people standing around getting their drink
and party on. But the closer she got to the car the angrier she was getting.

Trae’s truck was kitted out and its windows tinted, but the front passenger window was rolled halfway down. “Trae needs to
wake his drunken ass up,” Tasha snapped.

“Yeah, unable to hold liquor runs in the Macklin family,” Kaylin cracked. “Both these niggas have been partying for four days
straight.” Kaylin was talking about Trae and Shaheem. And that was the first time Tasha made the acquaintance of Shaheem Macklin.

T
he next morning Trae and Tasha caught a flight to New York. Trae was in his old bedroom at his mother’s house in Hollis, Queens.
He sat in the old wooden chair in the corner, looking around the room. Posters of LL Cool J, KRS-One, Vanity 6, Lisa Lisa,
Salt-N-Pepa and Run-DMC were still on the wall. The set of full-size beds was neatly made.

Damn. Here I go back on the hunt again. Just when I thought I could put this shit behind me, I’m pulled back in
, he thought.

His mother tapped on the half-closed bedroom door. “Come in, Ma,” Trae told her.

“Trae, your wife is eight months pregnant. Why did you bring her way across the country? And I know you don’t expect her to
sleep on these little beds while you’re out running the streets, now do you?”

“Ma, our stuff is in the guest bedroom with the king-size bed. And as far as her traveling, she insisted. I couldn’t make
her stay if I wanted to.”

“She probably was trying to talk some sense into that big head of yours. Before you leave out of this house, make sure you
talk to your father.”

“Ma, how is Aunt Marva holding up?” Trae asked, knowing that his mother would tell him the truth.

“She’s not, baby. Just like you are my only child, Shaheem was hers. I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through.
I can, but I honestly don’t want to.”

Tap. Tap.
The bedroom door eased open. It was Omar, Trae’s other cousin. “Hi, Nana.” He gave his aunt a warm hug, hovering over her
and kissing her on the forehead.

“Omar, what are you and Trae getting ready to do?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Mrs. Macklin wasn’t new to the game, she had married a hustler. Trae’s father had snatched her up pretty much the same way
their son had snatched up Tasha. Her husband, Walter, had done time, survived a gun battle and its injuries and managed to
retire from the game with his life. The rumor on Walter’s side of the family was traced as far back as the days of Bumpy Johnson.
One of the sisters had supposedly put a blessing on the family. That’s why Mrs. Macklin knew that Trae would be all right.
How long that blessing would last, she didn’t know.
Did it stop with Shaheem? “Is that why he got murdered?”
Even those close to the sons were blessed, like Omar and Kaylin. Even though Kaylin’s younger brother Kyron was still locked
up they all seemed to be protected. Her husband Walter had had a long run, hustled and balled with the best of them. The rest
of the hustlers were dead or still in prison.

“I’ma take him out to clear his mind. I’ma watch over him, I promise.”

“Omar, you look so much like your mother. I miss my sister so much,” she sighed.

“So do I, Nana. But you and Pop Pop have always been there for me.” Omar planted another kiss on her forehead. This was the
only family he had known since the age of fourteen when his mother was gunned down. That was fifteen years ago.

“You discussed this with Walter already?” Nana asked him.

“Nah. He was in the den when I came in. I slipped right past him and came up here.”

Tasha tapped on the door, pushed it open, walked in and sat on Trae’s lap. Nana nudged Omar, indicating that Trae and Tasha
should be left alone.

Nana stood and turned to Trae. “Make sure you speak with your father.”

“Aiight, Trae.” Omar followed Nana’s lead. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Nana and Omar left, closing the door behind them.

“You understand why I gotta do this, right?” Trae held on to both of Tasha’s hands as he kissed them. She was giving him a
blank stare. “C’mon baby, don’t be like this. Answer me. You know I’m going to do this anyway. I just need you to tell me
you understand.”

Tasha sighed. “Look baby, I know what you do. I don’t like it, but I deal with it because I love you regardless. I’ve been
with you long enough to understand how you are feeling right now.” She let out a sigh and her voice cracked. “But damn, what
if something happened to you? We are getting ready to go to Shaheem’s funeral, I don’t want to have to start preparing for
yours. Don’t do that to me, Trae.” She kissed him softly on his bald head and stood up. “Do what you gotta do, Trae, as long
as you come back home when the work is done.”

When Trae’s father stepped into Trae’s bedroom he found his son sitting on the edge of the bed staring into space.

“So what’s the next move?” his father asked him.

“Pops, you know what it is. You been there and done that more than enough times that I can remember.”

“Yeah, but you know damn well I didn’t want this for you. Plus the game ain’t the same no more. Shit, I ain’t got to tell
you that. But this shit here is spookin’ me and your mother.”

Trae released a huge sigh. His father sat down on the bed next to him.

“Pops, I’m out. I don’t know why you don’t believe me. Just like Sha. He didn’t believe me either.” Trae chuckled. “I told
him to get out with me. Come to Cali. We good. Good for life.”

“What did he say?”

Trae smiled. “As usual he said what he was feeling. He said he was gonna die in the streets and fuck Cali. He a East Coast
nigga for life and ain’t nothing like some New York pussy.” Both men started grinning. “I told him I wanted him to be the
godfather to the babies. That fool said he’s already the uncle and that’s better than godfather. Then the crazy nigga said
he would as long as I named one of them after him.” Trae choked up and couldn’t hold back the tears.

F
or a black funeral, a rare calm blanketed the service. Quiet sobs and sniffles were barely heard above the organ music that
played softly in the background. Nobody knew where Trae was when the limos arrived to take the family to the church. There
was a sea of flowers. All the young boys from the ’hood who idolized Shaheem wore T-shirts with his picture on it. Trae spared
no cost, down to a horse and carriage. He laid his cousin out in style. They all thought: Puff did it for Biggie, Trae did
it for his cousin.

Aunt Marva was very snippy. “Let’s go! Fuckin’ niggas ain’t wait to kill my son, so I damn sure ain’t waitin’ to bury him,”
she snapped before pulling the veil over her face, shocking the shit out of Tasha.

Despite old folks’ tales that a pregnant woman shouldn’t go to a funeral, Tasha was right there. The twins were kicking as
Tasha’s hand glided across her belly. She was doing her best to hold back the tears. She diverted her attention to Trae’s
father, who was standing in front of the room having a few words with the pastor before he delivered the eulogy. Trae wasn’t
even there yet. Tasha glanced over at Aunt Marva. She sat tall and proud. Her face was blank. Tasha had not seen her shed
one tear and that sent chills up her spine. She was being too calm for her, which spooked her.

For the one life that had been taken, the lives of two would soon be entering the world.

Aunt Marva must have felt Tasha looking at her because she turned toward her.

Tasha tried to give a reassuring smile, but it wasn’t until Aunt Marva looked down at her round belly that the cold blank
stare turned into a warm smile. Then a tall white lady with a wide-brim hat and a white young man came up to Marva. They looked
alike so Tasha assumed that she was the young man’s mother. The lady handed Marva a card. The young man leaned down and mumbled
something and Marva started screaming at him, “How dare you! How dare you!”

Before Tasha could blink, Omar had the dude in a choke hold, and Kaylin, Kendrick, Bo and Mr. Macklin had surrounded the two
white guests.

“Get them the fuck out of here,” Kaylin kept yelling as they tried to stop Omar from breaking the dude’s neck. The white lady’s
face was beet red and she stood there petrified.

Everything happened so quickly, Tasha didn’t realize she was holding her breath. Nana had grabbed Marva and they had disappeared.
Tasha had no clue what was going on. Everyone was mumbling, turning in their seats and trying to figure out what all the commotion
was about. Tasha was now wondering what other drama could unfold. About fifteen minutes later the pastor had gained control
of the funeral. Everyone was back in their seats except for Marva. Nana now had that same blank stare that Marva had. They
both were spooking her. The pastor began his eulogy and he began speaking highly of Shaheem. It was obvious he knew very little
of him.

*  *  *

Trae lay in the cut as he watched everyone leave the burial site. He couldn’t bring himself to go to the funeral. Instead,
he had spent the day getting high and reminiscing about the good times. He, Kaylin, Kyron and Shaheem had plans on taking
over the city when they were young and getting in the game. Shaheem’s favorite words were “I got you, Cuz.”

He stepped out of the car, zipped up his jacket and pulled his fitted cap down low. The climate on the East Coast was much
cooler than in California. New York always seemed to remind him of how cold the world could be. He had a bottle of Corona,
Shaheem’s favorite. He smiled at the thought of Tasha looking around. He knew that she felt his presence.

“Daddy will be home in a few days,” he mumbled as he trudged up the walkway, stopping in front of the burial plot. He stood
there.

Just a day after Trae had arrived in Queens, word of Shaheem’s murder had already spread throughout Hollis. During Shaheem’s
four-and-a-half year bid he had bumped heads with Magnificent, a ruthless drug dealer from Newark, New Jersey, who had gotten
caught up in a buy-and-bust investigation in Spanish Harlem.

Magnificent had already served a year of his five-year sentence before Shaheem arrived. Magnificent had managed to take control
of his tier. He paid off the guards, along with a few jailhouse enforcers, and made examples out of anyone who didn’t see
things his way. That was until he got a taste of Shaheem Macklin.

Shaheem quickly turned the tables on Magnificent by giving him a serious beat-down in the prison yard in front of many spectators,
which allowed him to take control of the tier, not to mention that he doubled the guards’ salaries. Magnificent was at the
mercy of Shaheem until he was paroled. It was obvious that Magnificent refused to let prison beef stay behind prison walls.

As Trae stood over Shaheem’s burial site, a weird feeling came across him.

Why did God spare me? And my pops? We were both in the game and retired from it. That shit rarely happens. My Aunt Marva and
all of her roots and shit said she and our ancestors would save us. But why couldn’t she save her own son?
“Damn,” he mumbled. Trae pulled out the blunt as he sat on the ground next to Shaheem’s plot. “Dawg, I got your favorite.”
He pulled the brown paper bag off the Corona and poured some out.

Then he took a huge swig of the brew. “It’s ice cold, just like you like it.” He got choked up.
I can’t do this.

“I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to have your back. I’m sorry. You got my word that I’m going to fix this shit. I’ma
make it right. I won’t stop until I do.” He emptied the rest of the bottle of Corona and tossed it out as far as he could.

T
asha’s due date was less than three weeks away, but the triggerman who had taken Shaheem out was still breathing and to Trae
that was unacceptable, so he was anxious to go out on the hunt. The hunt for blood.

His parents’ family room was where Trae, just like his father, went to clear his head. Trae slid the glass doors shut and
turned on the dimmer. Tasha had gotten him hooked on scented candles so he lit a vanilla-scented one, grabbed a blunt and
stood in front of the window staring up at the New York moonlight. He still couldn’t believe that he was out of the game,
married; living in Cali, and any day now would be a father. He couldn’t help wonder what the Creator had in store for him.

He inhaled on the blunt filled with purple haze and smirked. “Lord, I hope you ain’t got jokes. You didn’t bring me through
all of that dirt I was doing for nothing. Whatever you do, just spare my wife and kids. As for myself, come what may.” Trae
spoke in a whisper as he continued to gaze up at the stars. He was a firm believer in karma. He had sold and poured tons of
poison into his own community. He had numerous bodies under his belt, had fucked more women than King Solomon himself and
now here he was on top. The drug game had allowed him to stash millions. Shit couldn’t be better for him. But he couldn’t
help but wonder,
What did the universe have in store for him?
The thought continued to nag at him.
What’s next? What’s around the corner?

His heart went out to his cousin Shaheem. Shaheem hadn’t been out of the bing six months and he was already gone. Trae knew
that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he served street justice. Tasha and the twins she was carrying would just have to wait.
He knew Shaheem would have done the same for him.

Shaheem was a Macklin and they had been raised as brothers. Each was his parents’ only child. They had played together, gone
to school together, lost their virginity together, and both accepted Kaylin and his family as their extended family. The only
time they had been separated was when Shaheem went to juvie hall and that was when he took the weight for Trae, Kaylin and
Kyron. The same with this last bid. It was for having Trae’s and Kaylin’s backs. Shaheem and Kyron were always the muscle
in their crew. They loved getting down and dirty, just for the rush.