Читать книгу Streets of New York - Mark Anthony - Страница 6

down -ass bitch

MARK ANTHONY

A Year after Volume One…

Brooklyn, NY, 2:00 a.m.

When my girl and I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and maneuvered towards the club, the scene that we saw as we drove closer was absolutely bananas! There were people and cars everywhere. The line to get inside stretched a block and a half long. There was this buzz of excitement that filled the air and it let you know that other than where we were at, there was no other place to be than New York City.

I had been on the run for more than a year now. More specifically, I had been hiding out in Philly with my new girl for the past six months. Although Philly was about a two hour drive from Brooklyn, word about a club called The Brooklyn Cafe had spread all over the east coast. Word on the street was that this nightspot had it going on! It was part strip club on one level and a hip-hop/reggae club on the other level.

But what made me risk my freedom and travel to New York to see first hand what The Brooklyn Cafe was all about was the fact that I had heard that my mans and ‘em, Squeeze and Show, actually owned the place. I desperately wanted to get back to New York and link up with ‘em. At the same time I knew that I had the feds and the NYPD looking for me so I had to be careful.

My girl that I had met in Philly was a Puerto Rican chick who had a body like a J-Lo and an attitude like Eve. Her name was Marissa, and she wanted to come with me to New York to see what all the hype was about concerning The Brooklyn Cafe.

We let the valet park Marissa’s white 745 BMW and the two of us headed straight to the front of the line and searched for the VIP entrance. There was no way in hell that we was gonna wait on that long ass line!

“Who y’all wit’?” the bouncer asked as he put his forearm against my chest and grabbed Marissa by the arm to prevent us from walking inside the club.

“My man! Are you fucking crazy or what? Don’t be putting your hands on my girl like that!”

“Calm down money. I just wanna know who y’all wit’! I just can’t let y’all walk up in here like that. Y’all on the guest list?”

As I purposely tried to disrespect the bouncer and walk by him, I replied, “Come on man! We ain’t on no list! I own this muthafuckin’ club!”

The gigantic, round bouncer was not going for it. He wasn’t gonna be easily intimidated.

“Money, you about to get knocked on your ass right in front of your girl so I suggest you shuddafuckup right now!” the bouncer said as he came right up on my chest.

Coming from inside the club, I could hear Fat Joe’s smash hit song playing in the background, Lean Back. I lifted my shirt and exposed the handgun that I had in my waistband and replied,

“And your big ass is about to get leaned back if you don’t let me up inside this club!”

I immediately got the bouncer’s respect. It was more than just the steel that I had flashed. I got his respect. Looking at my face, he knew that the person holding the steel had the balls to use it and wouldn’t hesitate to lay his big ass out on the concrete.

Just as the bouncer stepped away from me and as I was about to pull out my gun and blast him, from the corner of my eyes, I saw another man about six foot five, looking about 300lbs and wearing a tight, black wife beater. He was showing off a cross tattooed on one of his huge biceps. Another bouncer was coming to the aid of the first bouncer, this was crazy I was thinking. A small crowd was standing around waiting to get inside the club. They could tell that something ugly was about to go down.

“Promise?” a familiar voice sounded off.

I saw Show with a questioning look on his face. A smile crossed my face when I realized the man I had mistaken for another bouncer was in fact my man, Show. I took my hand off the steel and greeted Show.

“What up, my nigga!” I yelled.

The bouncers were quickly forgotten as I gave Show one of the biggest ghetto hugs that I had ever given anyone in my life. We embraced each other in a most loud and rowdy way, nearly losing our balance and almost falling to the ground. He adjusted the gun in his waistband, almost doesn’t count. We raucously kept shaking hands like kids in a gang.

“I ain’t know if you was dead or what! Where you been at?”

At that point, the bouncer stepped up and asked, “Yo, Show, is dude cool wit’ you?”

“Yeah, no doubt! This is my muthafuckin’ man right here!”

The bouncer came up to me and attempted to give me a pound, “Pardon me, I was just doing my job.”

I didn’t even acknowledge the bouncer. I simply took Marissa by the hand and followed Show into the packed club.

Fat Joe’s Lean Back was still blasting in the background and people were literally losing their minds on the dance floor doing the Rockaway dance.

I shouted over the song, “Marissa this is my man Show! He’s the one that I had been telling you about! Show, this is my girl, Marissa. I’m staying with her out in Philly!”

“Word! That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. Nice to meet you, sweetheart!” Show shouted back as he also scoped out Marissa’s body.

Marissa was wearing some open toe high heel shoes, a mini skirt and a backless top. She had tattoos on her lower back, thighs and lower abs. She started grabbing on me trying to get me to dance but I wasn’t in the mood for dancing. How could I wanna dance after just being reunited with my peoples who I hadn’t seen in over a year? And now here I was finally chillin’ with them. Right on cue with the song, I recited the lyrics to Marissa.

“Niggas don’t dance, we just pull up our pants and do the Rockaway. Now lean back... lean back...”

Show put his shirt on and lead us to the bar. He got us drinks and then he took us to the crowded VIP area. I immediately saw Squeeze posted up with two honeys. I used to sport braids and never have any facial hair, but since I had been on the run I decided to keep my hair bald and to grow out my mustache and goatee. I wasn’t sure if Squeeze immediately recognized me when he saw me. I certainly recognized him.

“What up, baby pa?” I said as I looked at Squeeze and attempted to get a pound and hug from him. All the while interrupting the conversation he had going on with the two honeys.

Squeeze paused and looked at me. I couldn’t tell what was going on in his mind but I knew that he had to know who I was. After all, I had been his man for years.

“It’s Promise!” I replied to Squeeze’s puzzled look.

“Oh shit! ‘cuse me, ladies... My muthafuckin’ nigga, Promise! Where the fuck you been at?” Squeeze said, finally snapping out of whatever zone he was in.

“Been hidin’ out, nigga. Jake’s looking for me kid!”

While lifting his drink to his mouth, Squeeze purposely showed off his iced out watch, then sipped.

“I kinda figured you was on the run... you on the news like every night for a couple of weeks...” he smiled showing his platinum grillz.

Squeeze then took me to the side so that we were out of earshot of everyone else and asked, “I been wantin’ to ask you, what da’ fuck was you thinkin’ when you popped that cop? And then on top of that you tossed the gun in the sewer while somebody was watching your every move?”

Actually, I had never known that someone had seen me toss the gun in the sewer. I had just figured that it was good police work that had led them to the murder weapon so quickly.

“Squeeze, on the real, I don’t even wanna talk about that right now. I just gotta get my hands on some paper and get my situation correct. The muthafuckin’ state got my daughter and the whole nine! Remember that chick, Audrey, that I was fuckin’ wit?”

“The schoolteacher?”

“Yeah her... Well she got bagged!” I paused tugging my goatee and stared at him. He looked kind a shook up. “She doing federal time because of a nigga.” I continued. He stared at me as if I was making a joke. Then he slowly smiled.

“Get da’ fuck outta here!” Squeeze replied.

“Word is bond! We was robbing banks down in Virginia, Bonnie and Clyde style, and the feds rolled on us. She got caught out there but I bounced on them cats and made it to Baltimore. I was hiding out there and hustling out there for a minute. Then I met my girl Marissa, and I been chillin’ wit’ her for the past six months... She’s been holding me down. Her man is locked up but he stashed some paper before he went up and we been eating off that.”

Squeeze shook his head. He took another drink from his glass and he looked at me with the cockiest look imaginable. He stuck a toothpick in his mouth and twirled it around. He shook his head, smiled and said, “Dog, see, you in the predicament that you in cuz you started to lose that hunger! You kna’imean.”

The music was blasting inside the club and I could barely hear what Squeeze was saying. Marissa spoke in my ear. She told me she was gonna head down to the dance floor. I instructed her to meet me in the strip club area in about fifteen or twenty minutes.

I replied to Squeeze because I didn’t know where he was coming from. “Whatchu talkin’ about, kid?”

“Come on man! You know exactly what I’m talking about. You started getting soft on niggas! You started losing that thirst for the streets. That’s why right after Pooh got killed, when me and Show started coming up and we got this club and we took over the Tompkins houses, it didn’t even faze me that you wasn’t around to trick off on all the cake that we been getting.”

I looked at Squeeze but before I could comment he continued, “Dude, I’m just keepin’ it real. I mean, a lotta cats, if they ain’t see you in a year and y’all had been running together back in the days. They would look at you and tell you it’s all love and invite you right back into the mix to get this cake together. But I’m sayin’. You know me, dude. And you know how I gets down. We boyz and all but I’m just sayin’.”

As I stood there listening to Squeeze, spitting arrogantly like he was the man, I couldn’t help but get tight like a mu’fucka. I knew I had to cut to the chase and get right to the heart of what Squeeze was getting at. Although I was heated, I managed to drum up a fake smile. I began to speak but Squeeze cut me off and continued feeling on himself.

“I mean look at tonight, for example. You come up in my spot wit’ a fly-ass Puerto Rican chick talkin’ about how she’s been holding you down wit’ her man’s money! I mean, come on! Even if you are on the run, nigga, you gotta get out there and get yours.”

I looked at Squeeze and the only thing that I could reply was, “What da’ fuck?”

“Promise, you my man, but I’m just sayin’, I gotta tell you what you need to hear. And straight up on the real, you gotta decide what you want! Is it leeching off these hoes? Is it your daughter? Or is it this paper?” Squeeze asked pulling out a knot of $100 bills.

I was heated but I had to remain on the humble because I wasn’t in no position to come at Squeeze in any other way but humble. See one thing about niggas is that if you let them talk long enough, eventually whatever is in their heart will come out of their mouth. From what Squeeze was spittin’, he was basically saying that the fact that we had been boyz for years didn’t mean shit! And the fact that we had did countless stick ups together, that too didn’t mean shit!

Squeeze was making it clear to me that money will definitely change a nigga. He didn’t give a damn about my situation. The only thing that he cared about was his money. Back in the days if a cat had to go up north and do a bid, he could always count on his homeboys for holding down his spot for him until he did his time. And in my case it definitely should have been the same way. I was on the run for a year and not because I wanted to be on the run. It was the cards that I had been dealt.

Matter of fact, it was Squeeze who had called me and told me that Pooh had been shot and that him and Show were ready to ride on Nine and his crew. I guess that my only mistake was trying to be a real nigga and be there for my crew... And where did that get my ass? It left me assed out! If I had stayed my ass home wit’ Audrey that night then I never would have been in the position to shoot at the cop. And I never would have robbed banks either! It was ahight though because Squeeze was helping me to see niggas for their true colors... I knew just how to play the game.

“Squeeze, I feel you man!” I said as I gave him a pound. “You right. I gotta decide what it is that I want and just go after it. I had been thinking that and that’s the main reason that I came back to Brooklyn tonight. I mean, I was like fuck it! Fuck the feds and fuck the police! I knew that I had to link back up wit’ y’all and just get busy and I’m ready for whatever.”

I was just attempting to tell Squeeze what he wanted to hear but I could sense he wasn’t buying it.

“So what exactly are you sayin’?” Squeeze asked.

“What I’m sayin’ is I need to get this paper! My niggas’ holding figgaz. I been laying low and outta the game and now I’m ready to do what I gotta do.”

Squeeze attempted to play me as he responded sarcastically, “So in other words you need some money and instead of just asking me to hit you off wit’ some dough, you gonna stand here and front like you still gangsta?” Squeeze began to laugh as he shouted, “Oh my gawd! Niggas’ funny. Word is bond!”

Again, I held my position and I remained humble as Squeeze continued to play me. Trying to switch gears, I replied, “Yo, take me to see the strippers in the strip club. Introduce your boy to some pussy!”

Squeeze smiled as he put his drink down and led me to the strip club. As we walked, I shouted, “Gimme your cell number so I can program it into my phone!”

I know that Squeeze heard me but he ignored me and kept walking.

I pulled out my cellphone and proceeded to program Squeeze’s info into it.

“Squeeze, what’s your number?”

“My celly?”

“Yeah.”

“Lemme give it to you in a few days cuz too many people got this number and I’m about to switch it up.”

“Oh, ahight,” I replied.

As we made it to the strip club area, I could see Marissa chillin’ wit’ Show. Before we reached the area where they were standing, I attempted to get some more info from Squeeze.

“So Squeeze, how much are y’all niggas holding? What exactly are y’all sittin’ on?”

“What da’ fuck? You working with da feds or what?”

Squeeze played me as he patted me down acting as if he was checking for a wire. He pretended like he was joking but I knew what time it was.

“Son, it ain’t like last year, kid. We holding some major paper but I’ll bring you up to speed. Just chill and have a good time tonight. Da fuck wid’ all da fucking questions!”

Marissa was mad cool and she didn’t trip about all of the guys losing their minds over the thick strippers that were in the joint. In fact, she even paid for a lap dance for me.

Show was definitely feeling Marissa’s style and just from the vibe that he had been giving off, I could tell that he was still my man. Or at least it seemed that way. He had given me his home number and his cell number and he told me that he had bought a crib out in the Canarsie section of Brooklyn.

From the looks of everything, I could clearly see how he could afford the cribs in that area. The club had to be making money hand over fist and I knew that Show and Squeeze were getting other kinds of money but I just didn’t know all of the ins and outs yet.

From the cocky way that Squeeze had been acting all night long, it wasn’t long before I was ready to bounce. I just couldn’t take the way he was feeling himself. I also had the uneasy feeling that there were plainclothes cops all over the place inside the club. All of my instincts were telling me to get the hell out of the club so that is exactly what I did.

Marissa wanted to stay and enjoy herself but I explained to her why we had to bounce and she clearly understood. Before we left, Show handed me $500 dollars and he hugged me and said, “Bring yo ass back to New York and let’s get this money nigga!”

“No question kid! I’m a holla at you tomorrow.”

Squeeze pretended to be wishing me the best as I prepared to leave but I could see right through his phony ass.

“Show, da nigga Promise is working wid’ da feds. Tell him not to bring his ass ‘round here no more!” Squeeze laughingly said and stretched out his hand to me for a pound. “My nigga!” Squeeze grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him. In my ear, he whispered, “You still my dog for life. Just let me know what you wanna do.”

“No doubt,” I replied as I walked out of the club with Marissa. Squeeze walked out with us and waited for the valet to bring us Marissa’s car.

As we left the club and waited for our car, I still had that paranoid feeling that undercover cops were everywhere and that people knew my face and knew what I was wanted for, and constantly looking over your shoulder, a feeling hard to describe. Only cats on the run, can relate to that feeling. Not to mention that only a month ago, the TV show, America’s Most Wanted had done a segment on me so beads of paranoia followed me everywhere I went.

Fortunately, Marissa and I made it on to the New Jersey Turnpike headed south. I was able to breathe a little, as I felt somewhat safe.

As we drove, Marissa asked, “What’s up wit’ your boy, Squeeze?”

“What?” I asked.

“Homeboy is on some other shit! I don’t know what it is but he ain’t really real.”

“You peeped that too, right?”

“Yeah, the nigga just come across like he the man. Like his shit don’t stink. I don’t know about that dude. You should just chill out in Philly wit’ me and try to get something going wit’ these Philly cats cuz Squeeze come across like a snake type nigga.”

Marissa was right on the money and she had only been around Squeeze for a short time. But see, the thing that was motivating me to get back to NY to try and make some dough out there was the fact that my daughter, Ashley, was in New York. I couldn’t confirm anything but I had this sick feeling that she was being bounced around foster homes and that was driving me insane.

My plan was to get to New York, get my hands on some real long money, find out where Ashley was staying so that I could straight up kidnap her and bounce out of New York for good and never return. So if putting up with Squeeze and his phony ass was gonna get me the things I wanted plus get me in touch with my daughter in the shortest amount of time possible, then I was willing to put up with whatever it was that I had to put up with. But at the same time, if that nigga tried to snake me or play me I wouldn’t hesitate to go to war wit’ his ass...

The next day when I was back in Philly, I made numerous attempts to contact Show. I called his crib and his cellphone. Each time his phone would just ring through to his voicemail. I left the nigga like seven messages and he never called me back, not once.

My head was really spinning trying to figure out what was up with Show. Maybe Squeeze had started filling his head with some garbage about not messin’ wit’ me. I didn’t know. As Marissa walked around her house in a red thong and a matching red bra, she reminded me so much of Audrey in terms of the advice she would give me.

“You see this tattoo?” Marissa asked me as she was referring to the tattoo of a pair of yellow and black snake eyes that was on her lower back.

“Yeah,” I replied. I couldn’t help but also stare at Marissa’s big Puerto Rican booty.

“I put that tattoo there because cats always wanna get at me because of my body. And they always wanna hit it from the back and they are always happy as long as they’re getting what they want. It’s all good when they getting what they want but I know that even the niggas that I let hit this, as soon as they feel they don’t need it anymore, those are the exact niggas that will snake my ass the fastest. They’ll snake me faster than my biggest enemy simply because they’ll feel like they know me better than any of my enemies.”

“I still don’t get the whole reason behind you tattooing the snake eyes on you,” I replied.

“Well it’s basically like this, nobody knows how to get back at a snake better than a snake. So niggas might get close to me and then later try to get over on me and snake me but it’s like my snake eyes tattoo is letting niggas know that I can be a snake too. If they try to snake me, I’ll come right back at them and snake they ass right back!”

After that long drawn out explanation of her tattoo, I sarcastically asked Marissa, “So is there a point to why the hell you brought that up?”

Marissa playfully punched me as she said, “Yeah there’s a point to what I’m getting at... What I’m trying to say is that your boy, Squeeze, is gonna try to snake you so you better be prepared to strike back.”

“Yeah, I know that. You right. I don’t trust that nigga no more. Especially the way his ass was coming across all sheisty.”

Later that night after Marissa and I had had sex, she fell asleep but I stayed up and watched music videos. It had to be about four o’clock in the morning when I heard some noise outside that sounded like an army of footsteps.

The only light that was on inside the house was the light coming from the television in Marissa’s room. I immediately turned off the TV, went downstairs, ducked and crawled to the living room window. I peeked from behind the burgundy vertical blinds.

“Oh shit!” I said to myself. “Muthafucka!”

Marissa’s front yard was crawling with cops who were more than likely about to raid her house in an attempt to capture my ass! I darted back upstairs to Marissa’s second floor bedroom and violently shook her awake.

“Get the fuck up, Marissa! Five-O is rolling on me right now!”

Thank God Marissa immediately woke up. She was somewhat in a daze but she came to her senses very quickly. As I grabbed the handgun, my heart was pounding a thousand beats a minute. “Hurry up and run downstairs to the door. Try to stall them for like a minute!” I instructed Marissa.

She quickly grabbed her robe and did exactly as I’d instructed. I paced back and forth as I quickly weighed my options. Fortunately for me, I had prepared for this situation many times. I had my escape route planned well in advance just in case the cops ever tried exactly what they were doing.

My escape route was out the second floor window of the bedroom, which was right next to Marissa’s bedroom. The reason was that right underneath the bedroom window was a two-foot ledge that I’d be able to stand on and launch myself into the neighbor’s yard. That was assuming that I’d be able to clear the neighbor’s ten-foot fence in the process.

My belief was that the cops might have Marissa’s yard filled with cops but not the neighbor’s yard. If I was able to make it into the neighbor’s yard with the big fence, then I would be able to buy myself about thirty seconds to a minute of lead time to get away on foot from the pigs.

I stood at the top of Marissa’s steps gripping my gun and listened. I didn’t wanna just open up the window and jump out until I absolutely had to. Marissa opened the front door but she kept the metal screen door locked and that separated her from the police. Based on what the police were shouting, Marissa must have surprised the cops while simultaneously taking away their element of surprise.

“Can I help you?” Marissa asked.

“Philadelphia Police! Open the door right now!”

“Is there a problem?”

I could hear the sound of metal clanging that sounded like the cops were trying to pry open the front door.

“You know why we’re here! This is your last warning! Step away from the door!”

When Marissa asked the cops if they had a search warrant, I knew that the cops were not there simply to question people. They were coming in the house and there was no two ways about it!

With the vertical blinds closed and all of the lights off in the house, I darted to the escape window and I made sure not to create too much movement at the window. I attempted to open the escape window. I realized that I had fucked up big time. Not once had I ever practiced opening the window. The unlocked window was stuck and it was not budging! I began panicking as I heard all kinds of noise and commotion coming from downstairs.

“Get the fuck outta my house!” I heard Marissa yell.

“Goddamn!” I thought to myself. I was beyond shook and didn’t know what to do or where to go.

“Go!” I heard the cops yell. Seconds later, I heard them yell, “Clear!”

I knew that they were checking room by room and I ran and hid in the closet. I could hear mad footsteps and mad noise. I felt like I was in a horror movie running from a nightmare. My heart was beating so fast that I thought the cops could hear it. I gripped the gun with both hands and hid behind the clothes hanging up in the closet. My legs and feet were fully exposed. If the cops were to open the closet, I would immediately be busted.

“Clear!” the cops shouted from another room. They were definitely on the second floor of the house by now.

I looked down and I could see light from a flashlight creeping underneath the closet door. I knew that the cops were now in the same room as me.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?” I cursed to myself.

I didn’t know if I should just let them open the door and hope that they wouldn’t see me but I knew that that was a long shot. The odds would be against me. I also wanted to bust out of the closet and run but that would have been an even longer shot.

For some strange reason, I began thinking about my daughter Ashley. At that point something told me to grab the doorknob. And that is exactly what I did. I took my left hand from off of the gun and with it. I reached and grabbed hold of the door knob. As soon as I grabbed the knob I could feel the knob slowly being twisted.

I knew that playtime was over and there was no time left to figure out what to do. I immediately put both of my hands back on the gun and stood off to an angle so that I was not right in front of the door. Although I was nervous as hell, I made sure not to make any noise. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. Before I knew what was what, the door violently swung open.

“Mu’fucka!” I screamed, rapidly firing three shots.

“Gun!” one of the cops yelled.

I knew that one of the cops had got hit. I couldn’t tell if the other cops were shooting back or what. Maybe my shots were ricocheting off of the protective shields that some of the cops were carrying.

My shots had caught the cops off guard and I had a split second to capitalize on that. As I yelled, I continued firing and bolted from the closet. When I was about three feet from the escape window, I closed my eyes and dove head first out the window, breaking the glass and everything.

“Aw shit!” I yelled as glass shattered and shots rang out from what sounded like every direction.

The advantage I had was that the cops didn’t want to get hit by their own friendly fire so they had to hold back somewhat as they fired at me. The craziness and boldness of me jumping out of the window was my other advantage.

It was pitch black outside and I hoped and prayed that I would clear the neighbor’s ten-foot fence before I hit the ground. The move was mad risky on my part because I couldn’t see where I was going and I could have literally killed myself but I had no other options. I had to do what I had to do.

In a matter of seconds, I came crashing down, face first into the neighbor’s garbage cans. The crash sound was tremendous! Glass rained down on top of me. The wind had been completely knocked out of me and pain shot through my body. I was going purely on adrenaline as I quickly made it to my feet. I stumbled a bit and tried to gather myself.

Shots were being bust at me from what sounded like shotguns as well as handguns. I didn’t waste any time shooting back. The truth was it wouldn’t have mattered because I had dropped my gun when I jumped out of the window and it was too dark to look for it, not to mention that I didn’t have the time.

I got my wits together and I immediately hauled-ass, jumping over neighboring fences. I could tell that the cops would soon be right on my tail as I heard all kinds of commotion, yelling, tire screeching and numerous police sirens. Somehow I’d made it into an alley area. I came across an abandoned car that looked as if it had been stripped of its parts. The tires and everything were missing as the car sat only on its four axles. The abandoned car was extremely close to the ground and it didn’t look as if a human being could fit underneath the car.

That was my only hiding spot and chance of escape. I knew I had to act quickly. I dropped to my stomach and forced myself underneath the car. I scraped my flesh in the process but that was my least worry. I squirmed to make certain that all of my body was fully underneath the abandoned car. I could barely breathe due to the weight of the car pressing down on me, which barely left room for my lungs to contract and expand and I began hyperventilating due to nervousness.

It was a hot and humid summer night and I was sweating my balls off! Suddenly I heard and saw footsteps... I could only look one way because there was absolutely no room for my head to fully turn. I tried to force myself not to breathe but I was so out of breath from running and the pressure of the car on top of me forced me to breathe real heavy. I was afraid that the cops might hear.

“I know that black bastard is out here somewhere,” one said.

My heart continued to pound into the pavement. I saw at least six sets of feet and I knew that there had to be more cops but I just couldn’t see them all. Then things just got real quiet. And I saw the six sets of feet briskly walking off.

“Just chill right here Promise,” I told myself as I wondered if the cops seen me and were they just frontin’ like they were walking away in order to bait me out of my hiding spot? I didn’t know but I did know that it didn’t make any sense to take a chance of coming out, so I just laid face down on the ground and tried to calm down. Then I saw more feet.

“Hot-damn!” I hissed to myself.

“Who got hit?” one cop asked another.

“Schwartz got hit and so did the bitch! She took one in the neck and Schwartz got hit on the wrist.”

“Anybody else?”

“That’s all we got so far but it could be more. I bet you even money that bitch fucked up the raid! This job ain’t meant for no woman!”

From what I could make out, the cops had to be talking about their co-workers.

“No way! We can’t just blame it on her because she’s a woman... It’s that fuckin’ criminal bastard! Can you believe the balls on that cocksucker? If I see his ass out here I’m blasting him! I don’t give a shit if he’s armed or not. Shit, call Al Sharpton, call Jesse, I don’t care. I’ll shoot that bastard in the back of his head if I see him!”

“I’m with you on that... And I didn’t see anything when the DA questions me.”

That was exactly why I didn’t care about bustin’ a cop. It’s like they got their own little gang or something. I couldn’t believe how they were talking.

As I continued to lay on the ground the entire area around me became bright as daylight. The sound of a helicopter hovered above and it must have been shining its searchlight down on the ground.

“Just relax, they don’t know where you at,” I told myself.

I lay on that ground for hours. The sun had come up and I was still on the ground underneath the abandoned car. It had to have been at least five hours since I’d made it underneath the car and cops were still mulling around checking for me and checking for clues. I had been smoking weed and drinking Hennessy all night long up until the cops had showed up. I had never made it to the goddamn bathroom and I had to shit and piss like a muthafucka!

There was no way that I was gonna take a chance and come out, but I literally couldn’t hold it no more. So right there on the ground, I straight pissed in my pants. All that Hennessy was coming out of me by the gallon!

My stomach and my legs and my crotch got warm as hell from the hot piss, but I had to do what I had to do. I just was hoping that the piss wouldn’t start to roll from underneath the car. But I felt confident that my clothes would absorb it all. Pissing solved one problem, but I still had to take a shit. I was ready to shit in my pants just to get some relief, but couldn’t take the chance on the smell possibly giving me away. So I clenched up my butt cheeks and held on for as long as I could.

As I lay there scraped up, marinating in my own piss and in pain, I got more vexed. “That nigga Squeeze, had to have tipped off the cops!” I convinced myself. I was coming to that conclusion because I just found it too much of a coincidence that right after I had visited The Brooklyn Cafe and Squeeze was acting all shady, that’s when the cops show up? Come on! Any nigga wit’ common sense could put that together and know what was up. But the thing I couldn’t figure out was why would the nigga do me so dirty? I had been his man for life! And I always had the nigga’s back, no matter what.

Maybe him and Show was seeing some major figures and he didn’t wanna split none of it wit’ me? If that was the case, cool... I would have been like whateva. If the nigga ratted me out, then he is beyond foul! Niggas don’t do they mans like that! Word!

More hours passed by and I was still face down on the ground smelling like piss. I had endured an entire day underneath the car, a day of intense summer heat and humidity. And on a number of times I felt like I was gonna pass out or have a stroke from the heat. Nighttime had rolled back around.

The shit that I had to take from earlier in the day managed to creep back up on me. Soon it would be a total of twenty four hours since I’d been underneath the car but my freedom was at stake so I still wasn’t confident that I could come out from underneath the car. Yet, I couldn’t hold it anymore. So right there I shat on myself and since I don’t know how to shit without pissing so I pissed again too. This was the absolute lowest point in my life bar none!

As I lay there in my own shit, I completely convinced myself that Squeeze had ratted me out. What pissed me off even more was that I wouldn’t have been on the run and dealing with all this if the mu’fuckin’ rat bastard, Squeeze, hadn’t called me and begged my ass to ride with them when they were rolling on Nine and his crew that night! I vowed that if I made it up out of this present situation without getting bagged, that I was gonna go all out and get back at Squeeze and his punk ass! Even if I had to murk that fool, I was willing!

I was certain that he had gotten Marissa’s license plate or something when he walked us out of the club that night. That had to be how the cops rolled on me. How else would they have known where I was resting?

About two more hours passed and I just couldn’t take it anymore. If the cops were still staking out the area that I was in, then I would just have to take the loss. I was ready to come out. There was no easy way for me to get from underneath the car. In fact it seemed like it was harder for me to get from underneath than it had been for me to originally get under it. I finally managed to free myself.

As I stood up and brushed myself off, I felt very lightheaded and mad nervous. My wrists, arms, and chin were scraped up from the concrete and I smelled worst than a street bum in Times Square. Dogs were barking and I wanted to get out of that location as soon as possible so that I could take off my pants and get out of my underwear, which had been violated with feces.

I wouldn’t leave any evidence lying around. I knew I had to keep on my underwear and just troop it. My pants were sagging real low and it wasn’t because I was trying to be stylish, it was because of the crap that was in my underwear! I couldn’t walk fast as I had to walk real gingerly.

I had no money and I knew that I definitely couldn’t take a chance on calling or going back to Marissa’s house. I figured every cop in the city was working overtime looking for my black ass so I had to be real careful about who I reached out to and where I went.

Marissa lived in an area known as Mt. Airy. Other than her, I didn’t know anyone who would be cool enough to let me hideout at their crib. Plus, I knew that the cops would have some type of financial reward for anyone that would rat me out and turn my black ass in so I wasn’t trying to hide out with anybody. The only person that I could think of who was gutter and cool enough to not rat on me was this cat named Grams.

I had met Grams when I first came to Philly. I would buy weed from him and we would kick it with each other. He had lived in Philly all of his life and he knew a whole lot of people from New York, so maybe that was why the two of us was cool wit’ each other from the jump. I had hung out at his crib a few times and I knew that he lived not too far from Mt. Airy in a section called Glennside.

Glennside was about a mile or so away from Mt. Airy and since I didn’t know the Philly streets like I knew the New York streets, I had to take the only route to Glennside that I knew, which meant that I had to walk down Wadsworth Ave. Although it was real late, I knew in my heart that somebody on Wadsworth Ave was gonna recognize me, or that some cop on patrol was gonna spot me and bag my ass.

The funny thing about being wanted by the police is that you really get paranoid and think that the whole world knows you and is concerned with you. But as I walked I had to remind myself that most people wouldn’t be able to recognize me that easily.

My heart pounded as I walked towards Grams’ crib. I tried to walk as calm and as cool as I possibly could with a sack-load of shit in my pants and I hoped like hell that Grams was home. Finally after about forty-five minutes of walking, I reached Grams’ crib. All of the lights were out inside his house and I wondered what I should do. I didn’t exactly know his living situation that good and I didn’t wanna be interrupting anything. Since I didn’t have many options, I rang his doorbell.

After ringing for about five minutes I got no answer so I began knocking real loud. I didn’t wanna knock too loud because I didn’t want any of the neighbors to look out their window and get suspicious. Finally after about two more minutes, Grams came to the door.

“Who da’ fuck is at my door at this time of night?” Grams growled with an obvious attitude.

“Grams, what up, baby pa’? It’s me, Promise.”

“Who?”

“Promise from New York! I’m in some shit. Open up the door.”

Grams opened the door. He was real groggy and I could tell that I had woken him up. He had on some slippers, boxer shorts and a wife beater.

“Oh! What da’ fuck? What up, nigga?” Grams asked as he reached to give me a pound.

As I stuck out my hand, Grams let out a yell of disgust.

“Oh shit! What the hell is that smell? Nigga, where you been at? You smell like muthafuckin’ shit! You drunk, nigga?”

“Nah, nah, I ain’t drunk. Yo, it’s a long story. I’ll fill you in but on the real, I need somewhere to stay tonight. I ain’t got no cake on me or nothing.”

“Where your girl at?” Grams asked, sounding like he didn’t wanna take my smelly ass in.

“Honestly, I don’t even know. Ahight look, you like one of the only niggas that I vibe wit’ out here in Philly so I can be straight up wit’ you and don’t have to worry about you opening your mouth. You kna’imean? You a real nigga and real recognize real!”

“Fo’sho!” Grams replied.

“Ahight, check it. I ain’t never told nobody in Philly this. Nobody except for Marissa but before I came to Philly, I stayed in B-More for a minute. That was because I was on the run and I’m still on the run but shit just got a whole lot thicker.”

“What’s up?”

“About a year ago when I was in New York doing my thing, I got into a situation and I bussed down a cop.”

“Get da’ fuck outta here? Did he die?”

“Hell yeah, he died.”

“Yeah! My muthafuckin’ nigga, Promise! Killing cops! My nigga!” Grams said as he reached out his hand to congratulate me. Then he spoke up as if a revelation had hit him. “Somebody just shot like nine fuckin’ cops in Mt. Airy! It was all over the news.”

“Nine cops?” I asked.

“Yeah, and the nigga was on some ol’ Larry Davis type shit. He jumped out the window and everything and the cops didn’t catch his ass.”

“Goddamn!” I said out loud.

I became more frustrated because I knew that I hadn’t shot no nine cops. Even when I had overheard the cops talking while I was under the car, they had said that only two cops had been hit. If it had been nine, they would have known it was that many.

Some of those cops had to have been hit by friendly fire. I wasn’t sure how many rounds I had let off but I was sure it wasn’t me. Truth be told, it didn’t matter because if the cops were to catch me, they were gonna get me on all nine counts.

“So what’s up, my nigga?”

“Them cops that you talking about that got shot over in Mt. Airy. That was me who shot they ass.”

“Get da’ fuck outta here! Say word?”

“Word is bond! I was chillin’ at Marissa’s crib and the cops raided the joint. Luckily, I got hip to what was about to go down so I hid in a closet. When them pigs opened the closet door, I was like bla-dow, bla-dow, bla-dow! I shot at them niggas and bolted from the closet and jumped out the window like fuckin’ I was fuckin’ Rambo and shit!”

“For real, nigga?”

“I’m for real! And then I hid out for damn near 24 hours underneath this abandoned car in some alley and they couldn’t find my ass. That’s how I ended up like this! I was under that goddamn car for so long and the car was so low to the ground, it was pushing me down. I just pissed and shit right there while I was hiding out.”

“Damn, Promise! You one grimy-ass nigga! So that’s how y’all New York cats get down?”

“Yeah,” I said shaking my head. “I had to do what I had to do... Fuckin’ feds is after me for these banks I robbed while I was in Virginia. The shit is bananas!”

“Stay right there. I’m a be right back,” Grams said.

I stood there in front of his crib desperately hoping that he would lookout for a nigga. A smile lit up my face as Grams returned with a plastic garbage bag and some clothes in his hand.

“Go on the side of the house, strip outta them clothes and throw those clothes away in that garbage can right there. Put them in this bag first. Here, this is some gear that you can rock. You can chill here and figure things out... But after you throw those clothes away, come inside and take a shower, nigga! Yo ass stinkin’ like you dead, nigga!”

I was so relieved to here those words come out of Grams’ mouth. I did exactly as he had instructed. A shower had never felt as good as that shower that night at Grams’ house. As I washed the dried up shit and piss from off my body, I thought about my daughter. I wondered how she was living. Was she with some family that she didn’t want to be with? Was she scared? Did she miss me? Did she think that I had abandoned her?

I got so vexed with frustration over not being in control of my life and especially for having lost control of my daughter. Ashley was the most important person in the world to me and I knew that I had to figure out a way to get her back and then just bounce from all of this drama and nonsense. Maybe I could kidnap her and go to Mexico or something? I didn’t know.

As I ended my shower, I knew that someday I would be reunited with my daughter again. In fact, I felt so strong about it, that in my mind, seeing my daughter again was a reality not just a possibility. It was definitely going to happen! The other thing was I was definitely gonna see Squeeze and Show, them two clown ass niggas!

Grams had a cool one-bedroom apartment that he rented. He let me sleep on the sofa bed that he had in his living room. The first night I was there I continued to fill him in on all of the details and criminal dealings that I had been involved in. I told him about my daughter and about Audrey, Pooh, Squeeze, and Show. Grams couldn’t believe that Squeeze wouldn’t have welcomed me back with open arms considering that we had a real history together. But at the same time he knew exactly how sheisty some dudes are.

“See, one thing I learned about the street is that you learn real fast how to separate the real from the fake. On the street, it’s like the majority of niggas ain’t really real,” Grams said.

“I know.”

Grams added, “So yo, this is what I’m sayin’. If you telling me that they own this Brooklyn Café spot then them niggas gotta be holding some paper and they got some other hustles going on? Yo, them niggas don’t know me so I ain’t got no problem running up on them niggas and making them come up off they shit.”

I smiled as I listened to Grams talk. Although he wasn’t from New York, he had the spirit of real street dude and I liked and respected that. Listening to him talk reminded me of a whole lot of the days I’d spent in the basement in Brooklyn when we used to sit around to plot and scheme on how we were gonna get money.

I had really no choice but to trust Grams. But I knew that even trusting him was risky because of the fact that he could talk a good game and then turn around and rat me out to collect the hundred grand reward the police were offering for someone to turn my criminal-black-ass in.

If it turned out that Grams could be trusted then I would respect him for as long as I lived because he didn’t even know me that well and yet he was willing to take me in, give me some of his gear to rock, feed me, plus he was willing to risk robbing Squeeze and Show rather than going after the easy reward money that the police were offering.

As Grams and I talked, he could sense and tell how badly I wanted to get back at that nigga Squeeze for ratting me out to the police. But he had some real good advice that I heeded to.

“Promise, listen to me. You and I both know that Squeeze and Show are holding some real long money right now... You definitely need some dough, and hell, I need some money, who da’ fuck doesn’t need money! But you gotta be smart and move real slow.”

“Fuck dat! I’m ready to move on them niggas right now! They had me under a car laying in my own crap like a fucking animal!”

“Promise, I know that. But trust me. I know how the streets work and how to operate in the game... And what you gotta do is just chill here at my crib, lay low for a about three weeks and let some of the heat die down. Don’t even come outside or nothing. And then what you do is you call Show just before you’re ready to come out of hiding. But you don’t get at him or Squeeze for dissin’ you and rattin’ on you. You don’t even bring it up. You just play things cool, like everything is ahight wit’ you. You gotta do that just to feel them out and not let them suspect that you’re about to hit they asses!”

“Grams, I feel you and I know where you coming from, but dog I can’t just sit here on this anger for three weeks!”

“Promise, trust me. You see how them terrorist cats did the United States on 9/11? Bin Laden and ‘em was patient for years! But when they hit us, everyone felt it! And that’s how you gotta hit Squeeze and Show! Hit them niggas when they least expect it and make them muthafuckas respect yo ass!”

Grams was right. There was no sense in me striking too soon or reacting too emotional cuz all that would do is got my ass locked up. I knew that Grams was hot on this scheme for me to get back at Squeeze and Show simply because he was seeing a whole lot of dollar signs. But whatever his motivation was, I was just glad that I had him in my corner.

The three weeks in Grams crib felt more like three years. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had been in one spot for so long. For the most part I was alone in Grams’ crib by myself. He would be out on the street hustlin’ for most of the day and only came back to his crib late to crash. Staying at his crib confirmed that I definitely didn’t want any parts of the prison system. Not that his crib felt locked up.

It was just the isolation that I couldn’t take. I knew I would go absolutely crazy if my ass was caged up in some goddamn cell. I was tired of eating chicken wings and French fries from the Chinese restaurant. I was tired of all of the trash television shows and tired of the news reports that focused on the nationwide manhunt for me. And I was tired of wearing Grams gear.

On the twenty-first day of hiding out, I decided to call Show and feel the nigga out. I called from Grams’ phone and I made sure to block the number before I dialed but each time I called Show’s numbers, both his cell and his home number would ring out to voicemail. I decided to take a chance and unblock Grams’ number before dialing Show. The same thing happened each time, goddamn voicemail!

This went on for literally two days. For two straight days, I got nothing but the nigga’s voicemail. I decided to try something else to see if it would work. I called this chick that lived in a section of Queens called Rochdale Village. Her name was Candy and she had been on my dick since high school.

Candy was the type of chick that if she was feeling you, she would let you have uncommitted sex and wouldn’t trip about a nigga having a girl or not spending enough time with her. She even spent money on a nigga and didn’t expect nothing in return. Candy wasn’t exactly a jump-off or anything like that. She was mad cool. She looked ahight and her body was tight. She had it going on! She had a good job with the Transit Authority, and she had her own apartment. But the bottom line was that she was feeling a nigga.

I didn’t have Candy’s cellphone number but I had her home number memorized so I immediately dialed her to see what was up. The phone rang like six times and then her answering machine came on.

“Damn!” I said to myself. I knew that I had to leave a message but I just didn’t feel too comfortable leaving her Grams’ number as a call back.

I began speaking to the answering machine, “Yo Candy! What’s up, mama? This is Promise. I know that...”

“Hello?” a voice on the other end said, while stopping the old school answering machine.

“Candy?”

“Promise, hey, what’s up, boo?” Candy asked. She was obviously glad to be speaking to me.

“Candy, I know that I ain’t speak to you in a minute. I ain’t gonna even sit on this phone and front but I’m calling you because I need a favor from you.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“I know you probably saw all of the shit on the news about how the cops is looking for me, right?”

“Yeah, I know...”

“Well, I’ve been laying low and I can’t really tell you what’s up just yet but I promise I’ll let you know...”

“Promise, listen, you ain’t got to explain nothing. How long have we known each other? Come on now,” Candy replied.

I laughed a little bit into the phone’s receiver.

“So, what’s up? You need some place to stay for a few days?”

I hadn’t actually considered staying with Candy but since she’d brought it up, I decided to capitalize on her offer.

“Well, actually, if I could stay wit’ you for a few days, I’d be grateful.”

Candy cut me off as she said, “Promise, you know I got your back. You remember where I live, right?”

“Yeah, I do but I might not come through right this minute. I’m not sure when.”

“Well, I gotta work the next few days but I’ll be home every night this week. If you come through just make sure that it’s after 8 at night.”

“That’s what’s up!” I replied then added, “Candy, you remember Show, right?”

“Of course.”

“Ahight, listen, get a pen and take down his cellphone number. I want you to call him for me but I need you to three-way him. And check it, I don’t want you to let him know that I’m on the other end of the phone. Okay?”

“Okay,” Candy replied, “What’s the number?”

I proceeded to give Candy the number and then I instructed her that if Show asked her how she got his number, that she was to say that she had bumped into me on Flatbush Avenue a couple of weeks ago when I was leaving The Brooklyn Cafe and that I had given her his number and told her that I would be staying at Show’s crib. The reason that she was calling was because she hadn’t heard from me since that night.”

“’Kay,” Candy replied.

“Candy, are you sure you got what I said?” I asked.

“Yeah, Promise.”

“Okay, call him now and make sure that your phone number ain’t blocked when you call him. Just get into some small talk if you have to but make sure you don’t tell him that I’m on the phone.”

“Okay,‘kay,‘kay, be quiet now, it’s ringing.”

I put my phone on mute so that my breathing wouldn’t be heard. Show’s phone rang two times and the nigga picked right up.

“Ain’t that a bitch?” I hissed to myself.

“Hello? Who this?” Show asked.

“What’s up, Show? This is Candy.”

“Candy who?”

“Come on now, Show! You know which Candy this is!”

“Candy from Rochdale?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, what’s up, ma? I ain’t speak to you in a minute. Where you been at? How did you get my number?”

“I got your number from Promise. He gave it to me the other night when he was leaving The Brooklyn Cafe. He said he was gonna be staying with you and if I needed to reach him I should call you.”

“Oh word? I don’t know why da’ fuck he told you that! That nigga ain’t staying wit’ me. That nigga got too much heat surrounding his ass.”

“Do you have a number where I can reach him or anything, cuz I gave him my number and he ain’t even call me or nothing.”

“Nah, I ain’t got no numbers for him. But, yo, fuck dat nigga. If you wanna hang out, you need to come to the spot, to The Brooklyn Cafe. You know me and Squeeze own this spot now, right?”

“I know. My girls and me gonna come through and check it out. We might come through in a few weeks. It’s still free for City workers to get in, right?”

“Yeah but you ain’t gotta worry about that. Just call me when you wanna come and I’ll put you on the guest list.”

“Ahight, no doubt. Well, I gotta go. If you here from Promise, tell him that I called for him.”

“I doubt I’ll speak to him but if I hear from him, I’ll let him know.”

With that, I hung up the phone and so did Show and Candy. I called Candy right back.

“Hello.”

“Yeah, Candy, it’s Promise.”

“I didn’t know ya’ll wasn’t cool no more. What happened?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain it when I see you and if Show or anybody else calls or comes by make sure you tell them you haven’t heard from me or seen me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Before hanging up, I made sure that I took down Candy’s cellphone number. After hanging up the phone with her, I thought to myself. That three-way phone call confirmed that Show and Squeeze both were acting in tandem and both were purposely dissin’ my ass.

Show had picked up the phone right away when he saw a New York area code on his caller ID but when I had been calling him from a Philly area code or from a blocked number and even after leaving him messages telling him that I was gonna be calling him, he was no where to be found.

“Fuck that nigga!” I said to myself.

Later that night when Grams came home, he relayed a message to me from Marissa. She had wanted me to know she was okay and that in case she and I didn’t speak for a while. Under the circumstances she completely understood and also asked him to make certain he told me that the cops had questioned her for hours. And she hadn’t given them any information.

Considering how a year ago I had wrecked Audrey’s life, I was glad to hear that Marissa was doing ok but it made me nervous that Grams had even discussed me with Marissa. I wanted to press him on why he’d said anything at all or how to Marissa and how did she know to ask him about me, but then decided not to mention it all. I still needed Grams’ help and I didn’t wanna piss the nigga off in any way.

It was a Thursday night and instinctively I knew that within twenty-four hours I had to get out of Grams’ crib for good. I was already pressing my luck and rolling the dice on my freedom. Instead of questioning Grams on this I decided to switch subjects and bring up what had transpired over the phone with Show.

“Grams, tomorrow night we gotta get to New York and see them niggas. Check this shit out... I tried to get in touch with Show, right. I call the nigga’s cell his crib and both phones kept going to voicemail. So check it, I call this chick from Queens that I’m cool wit’ and I have her call Show from her home phone while I was on three way...”

Grams, who was rolling some weed, smiled and looked up at me and finished off my words, “And the nigga picked up, right?”

“Yeah, the nigga picked up cuz he saw a New York area code on his caller ID but I never said nothing. I stayed quiet and just let him and the chick kick it and when the chick asked him about me, that bitch ass nigga starts talking all kinds of underhanded shit! Talkin’ bout ‘fuck dat nigga, Promise!’”

Grams took a break from rolling the weed and added, “It’s ahight. You did the right thing. Just let any nigga talk long enough and you’ll know what he’s about.”

Grams got up and walked to his closet and retrieved a brown paper bag. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a chrome 38 revolver.

“I know you ain’t got no heat so I got this for you from my man. I got my joint in the other room so we’ll both be strapped. We straight now.”

I got up and gave Grams a pound.

“You said Squeeze was rocking an iced out Rolex, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, if worse come to worse, we at least leaving with that watch!”

“Grams, trust me, them niggas is holding cash! The club is a goldmine! Whatever cash up in that club, we leaving wit’ it and with the watch and whatever else we want!”

Grams finished rolling the blunt. He sparked it and the two of us got high as we plotted for an hour straight how we were gonna get at Squeeze and Show. Our I’s were dotted and our T’s were crossed. All we had to do now was wait for Friday night to roll around.

Grams’ crib had begun to feel like house arrest. Thank God Friday night finally came. I was excited about getting back out into civilization and was even more excited about getting back to Brooklyn. Grams let me borrow another of his outfits, gray Sean John sweats that went with my all-white Nike Airs. I was hoping this would be the last outfit of his that I would have to borrow.

It was a little after midnight when Grams and me piled into his black Yukon Denali and headed towards Brooklyn. We made a stop for gas and a stop at the McDonalds drive thru window. From then on, there wasn’t too much talking as we listened to the G-Unit CD and continued to maneuver closer to our destination.

After an hour on the New Jersey Turnpike when we were about at exit 7, I got the scare of my life! A New Jersey State Trooper had begun following us. Grams was driving and I had the front passenger seat reclined back as far as it would go.

“Muthafucka!” Grams shouted as he turned down the volume on the CD player.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“A State Trooper is tailing us.”

My heart pounded as I contemplated my options. I began to wonder if someone had spotted me like the girl in the drive thru window at McDonalds?

“You think he’s gonna pull us over?” I nervously asked Grams.

“Hell yeah! He wouldn’t have followed us for this long if he wasn’t gonna pull us over.”

I became more nervous and contemplated having Grams slow down so that I could bolt from the car. I also thought about having Grams cause a realistic looking accident just to create a real and major distraction.

“All your paperwork is straight, right?” I asked Grams.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

We drove for about two minutes more and then the State Trooper signaled for us to pull over.

Grams complied.

“Just lay back in the seat and act like you sleeping,” Grams instructed.

I did exactly as he told me. Thirty seconds later, the State Trooper came to the window. From the sound of the voice it sounded as if it was a female officer. A female officer was the last thing we needed. I say that because them women cops always seem like they got something to prove, like they gotta act extra tough and all that.

“How’s it going?” the officer asked.

“Everything’s good,” Grams replied. He didn’t sound nervous.

Even with my eyes closed, I could tell that the officer was shining her flashlight into the car. I tried my best to breathe very evenly but I was scared like a bitch! The cars whizzing by in the background created noise and I could barely hear the officer’s voice as she asked, “What’s with your friend over there?”

“Just chill,” I whispered to myself, “and keep your eyes closed.”

Grams responded perfectly, “Oh, he’s sleeping. We ate some McDonalds and it messed his stomach up so he’s sleeping it off.”

There were McDonalds bags in the front of the truck so I knew that the officer might buy that line.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”

“No, I don’t,” Grams replied with no attitude at all.

“Your windows... The tint is too dark.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m sorry about that, officer.”

“Let me see your license, registration, and insurance please,” the cop asked.

Grams complied with her wishes.

“You guys weren’t drinking, were you?”

“We wasn’t.”

“Where are y’all headed this evening?” the officer asked.

“Brooklyn.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna check your information and write a summons for the windows then you can be on your way...”

“Okay, officer.”

“There’s no drugs or guns in the car, is there?”

“We not into any of that,” Grams replied, sounding like a skilled actor. The officer walked away.

“Promise she’s gone. But yo, you should sit up and act like you up. I think it would look more real when she comes back to the car.”

I did exactly like Grams suggested. I desperately wanted everything to go good because aside from me being a wanted fugitive, we also had two guns in the car, duct tape, and a small amount of weed.

“Ah, shit!” Grams yelled.

“What happened?”

“Another trooper is pulling over. Why the fuck do they need two cars?”

“That bitch made me! I think I should bounce into them woods over there.”

“Just chill,” Grams said, “They both coming to the car right now. The other cop is on your side of the car.”

As the female officer approached the driver’s side window, she ordered Grams to step out of the car.

“Is everything ok?” Grams asked, he now was sounding nervous.

“Oh, I see your friend is awake now. Just put your hands on the hood.”

The other officer opened my door and told me to step out of the car and motioned for me to assume the position. I put both hands on the hood.

“I’m gonna ask you both this time. Are there any guns or drugs in the vehicle?”

“Nah,” I said as Grams remained quiet and shook his head no.

Both officers patted us down and then the male officer looked under the front seats and inside the dashboard. Thank God he didn’t look anywhere else.

“It looks good,” the male officer told the female cop.

At that point, the cop handed Grams his license and other paperwork and in an attempt to smooth things over, she explained that she would let him slide this time on the tinted windows but that he had to get it taken care of quickly.

“I’ll make sure it’s taken care of tomorrow officer,” Grams replied, sounding like a straight up house nigger. With that, the cops went back to their cars and pulled off.

“Holy shit!” I yelled then whistled a sigh of relief, “Whew!”

“Word is bond, Promise! Nigga, you have an angel watching over your ass or sump’n! I ain’t never seen a nigga as lucky,” Grams said smiling and pulling back on to the Turnpike.

That traffic stop had thrown us off schedule. We had wanted to get to the club at about 3 AM and scope things out but now we probably wouldn’t get there until around 3:30. Under the circumstances, we couldn’t complain at all.

Soon we were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge and rolling past The Brooklyn Cafe. Even at this time, there were people and cars everywhere.

“This spot’s jumpin’!” Grams exclaimed.

“I told you.”

Grams and I cruised back and forth. There was no place to park and we wanted to be in close proximity to the club so that we could quickly bounce to the car when we were done. It was four in the morning and although there was a lot going on, people were also starting to leave the club.

“Park right here at this hydrant! We might get a ticket but we gotta hurry.”

Grams did as I said then climbed to the back of the truck to retrieve the guns and the duct tape. He handed me the chrome 38 and stuffed his gun into his waistband. He managed to bend the roll of duct tape so that it fit into his back pocket then he pulled his shirt over it in order to hide the bulges.

“You think that same bouncer’s gonna be at the door tonight?” Grams asked.

“Yeah, he should be but if he ain’t, I’ll get one of them to get Show to let us in so we don’t get frisked.”

I knew now it was a good thing I had never tipped my hand to Show or Squeeze and let them know I was pissed off at them. Marissa told me about snake eyes. It was my turn to behave like a snake. Out of nowhere I’d strike!

As Grams and I walked across Flatbush with guns in our waists, he said “Promise, trust me, with a spot like this, there has to be a safe and some kind of cash! We leaving with some cash tonight, buddy.”

When we made it to the front, I immediately recognized the bouncer and I took it upon myself to remove the rope and head towards the VIP entrance.

“My man, what up? Show inside?” I asked the bouncer, showing him respect.

The bouncer looked at me and immediately recognized me. He gave me a pound and was like, “Yeah, he’s there. He’s up in there somewhere.”

“Ahight cool. He’s wit’ me,” I said, referring to Grams.

The bouncer nodded his head. I was hoping that neither he nor anyone else would put two and two together and realize that I was the wanted cop killer. I was also desperately hoping that there were no undercover cops staking the place looking for my ass.

Once inside we headed to the strip club section of the club. Even though we had a mission to accomplish, I hadn’t had any ass in three weeks so I at least wanted to look at and rub up next to something thick, just for a minute.

“Son, this is what’s up!” Grams said as we walked around looking at the sexy strippers in their thongs.

We were there for five minutes before we bounced. I asked the different bartenders had they seen Squeeze but none of them had. I asked one of the bouncers had he seen Show and he said he thought Show was in his office.

“Ahight, thanks,” I shouted over the loud music.

I didn’t want to seem suspicious by asking the bouncer where the office was so I went back to the bar and I asked a different bartender where Show’s office was. Lloyd Banks’ hit song On Fire was blasting throughout the club as I shouted over the music.

“Miss, excuse me, Show told me to meet him at his office tonight but I don’t know where it is?”

The shapely and sexy bartender yelled into my ear and she directed me to go upstairs. I signaled to Grams that the steps that led to the office were back at the VIP entrance on the ground level where we had come in. Grams and I headed in that direction. He reminded me to just play everything cool.

“Yeah, when we get inside just introduce me and act like everything is normal. We’ll chill for a minute and I’ll give you a nod, or you give me a cue and that’s when we’ll make our move. I’m a follow your lead but don’t worry about nothing cuz I gotchu on this!”

We made it to the black metal spiral staircase that lead to the office.

“This will lead us right there,” I said.

Grams nodded, signaling me to proceed. When we reached the top, we knew we had reached the jackpot. There was a door with a ‘private’ sign. It was locked. The music from the club could still be heard so we couldn’t tell if someone was inside or not. With such loud music, it would have been useless to knock. There was a buzzer and I didn’t hesitate to ring. I rang twice. There was no answer.

“You think they in there?” Grams asked.

“I don’t know.”

I rang the bell two more times and this time, I laid on the bell for about thirty seconds. Finally the door was opened by a nice looking, dark skin chick. Tall and looking like Naomi Campbell, she appeared to be about twenty.

“Can I help y’all?” she asked, her perfect full titties fully exposed.

“Yeah, we looking for Show. He around?” I asked.

“Who are you?” the chick asked with neck twisting attitude.

“Tell Show it’s Promise.”

The girl stared me down with unnecessary drama then I heard Show yelling asking who was at the door. The dark skinned chick told him who was there and then with Show’s approval she let us in.

“Goddamn nigga! It’s like Fort Knox trying to get up in here!” I jokingly said to Show as I gave him a pound and a ghetto hug.

“What’s the deal, kid?” Show asked. He came across like he was genuinely happy to see me. “What’s really good?”

Squeeze was sitting behind a small desk on the other side of the office. He didn’t greet us. His first question was, “Promise how da’ fuck you bringing muthafuckas up in my office that I don’t even know?”

I could tell that Squeeze was probably already pissed off about something.

“My bad. This is my nigga from Baltimore. He’s good people. Squeeze, this is Kendu. Kendu this is my mans and ‘em, Show and Squeeze.”

Everybody said what’s up to each other while the sexy chocolate chick went over and sat on Squeeze’s lap. There was an awkward silence before Squeeze spoke. He spoke with a toothpick sticking out from the side of his mouth.

“On da’ real, I ain’t tryin’ to disrespect you but Promise, you can’t really stay up in here but a minute.”

I looked at Squeeze and couldn’t believe he was still feelin’ his self that way. I looked at him without responding. My silence made him uncomfortable and he spoke up again real quick.

“I’m just saying, wit’ yo ass on America’s Most Wanted and on CNN, I don’t need heat from the feds, you kna’imean?”

I still didn’t respond. There was more awkward silence in the soundproof office. The only thing we could hear was each other. We couldn’t even hear the club music now.

“Yeah nigga, what’s up wit’ that shit in Philly? I heard you bussed down nine cops and killed two?” Show asked.

I remained quiet not saying a word. The room went back to being awkwardly silent. I simply looked around the office and quickly scoped the whole layout. I nodded to Grams.

Breaking the silence, I reached into my waistband and pulled out my gun. All the anger that had built up when I was underneath the abandoned car shitting and pissing on myself suddenly returned. Liked he’d promised, Grams followed my lead and pulled out his burner. I pointed my gun at Show while Grams had his joint pointed at Squeeze and his girl.

“You wanna know what was up wit’ that shit? I’ll tell you what’s up! You know exactly what the shit was about cuz you and this punk ass set me da’ fuck up! Y’all ratted my ass out! Payback’s a bitch!” I said moving in on Show.

“Money, don’t even think about reaching for your joint!” Grams barked at Squeeze. “Me and my man got this...”

Show stood up and demanded to know what was going on, while denying emphatically that he and Show had not set me up.

“Show, sit yo ass back down in that chair!” I ordered. “Y’all niggas knew that I was on the run for a whole year. When I show back up and find out that y’all are living, I thought it would be all love, like y’all would lookout for your boy! But then y’all try to front on me and shit on me! Come on, man! Can I live?” I shouted. I continued ranting as Grams held everybody at bay.

“And why was I on the run? Huh, Squeeze? I was on the run cuz your ass called me and told me we was rolling on Nine and his crew. I was laid up wit’ my girl and I come up out of some warm pussy to help y’all niggas and then y’all front on me and try to play me? All I’m sayin’ is can I live? Can I eat?”

Squeeze attempted to interrupt me.

“Shut da fuck up, Squeeze! I’m talking now and I’m running this muthafuckin’ club now!” I boasted.

Squeeze didn’t care what I had ordered him to do. He proceeded to swear and warn, “Promise, word is bond! You better kill me up in this piece tonight cuz I swear to God I’m a buss yo ass when you stop buggin’ ‘em drugs you’s smokin’!”

“Promise, you want me to handle this cat?” Grams asked with attitude.

I was silent then I spoke up, “Nah, I see how this is gonna go down... Niggas still wanna play me for a sucker and disrespect my ass. You know what? Squeeze, and Show, both of y’all stand da’ fuck up and strip butt ass naked, right now!”

“Promise you trippin’ for sure!” Show stated.

“What?” I walked up to Show and slapped him upside the head with the butt of my gun. He spun around and fell to the ground. Blood spilled out of his mouth.

“You thinking I’m bugging now! Huh nigga? Take off your goddamn clothes right now or I’ll murk yo punk ass right here up in this club!”

Show and Squeeze still didn’t budge. The sexy dark skin chick looked shook like crazy. She had amazingly lost that neck-twisting attitude and was acting completely humble.

“Grams, kill this nigga right here!” I ordered dead serious.

“Which one?” Grams asked. “This one?” He questioned as he sought confirmation and pointed his gun towards Show.

“Ahight! Ahight!” Show screamed as he began unbuckling his pants and removing his shoes. Before long he was standing butt ass naked.

“Squeeze, what you waiting on?” I asked.

Squeeze shook his head as he began to unbutton his shirt and remove his clothes. “Word is bond!” Squeeze added as he continued to shake his head.

“What about her?” Grams asked.

“Don’t worry about her! Get them jewels and the money first,” I stated. “Show, where the cash at? And don’t play me. You got thirty seconds or I’ll blast your ass.”

“Look in my pants pocket,” Show quickly responded. “Promise, if you needed some dough all you had to do is ask me.”

I walked over to Show and kicked him in the ribs, “So why da’ hell you ain’t pick up your goddamn phone or return my phone calls?”

“Cuz, nigga, how da’ hell did I know if you was working with the feds or not? You disappear for a year and then you show back up and wanna get money? Shit don’t work like that.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. That’s why I’m getting my money the ski-mask way!” I responded.

Grams had collected Show and Squeeze’s Rolex watches and their diamond encrusted dog tags. While he was relieving the girl of her diamond earrings and diamond ring, I shouted to Show, “You got fifteen more seconds. Where the hell is the money at!”

“I told you it’s in my pocket!”

Grams reached up in their pockets and pulled out a knot of money from both Show and Squeeze. Combined it looked like it was about $5000.

“Show, you got five more seconds to show me all of the money!” I threatened.

“Where da’ safe at!?” Grams growled, sounding like DMX.

“Two seconds...” I warned, as I cocked the gun.

“One...”

“Just show it to ‘em,” Squeeze reluctantly stated from his face down position.

“It’s over there under the desk,” Show gritted through his teeth.

Grams immediately scurried to Show’s desk and located the safe on the floor underneath a mat.

“What’s the combination?” Grams asked and Show yelled it out.

Grams quickly opened the safe and let out a joyous scream. “Promise, this is better than raw sex over here!”

“Ahight, just load it wit’ the jewels so we can be outta here.”

Grams scooped the loot along with some weed. He handed me the bag of cash, jewels, and weed and proceeded to duct tape the hands, feet and mouths of Show and Squeeze.

“You wanna hit that?” I asked Grams, referring to the sexy chocolate chick.

Squeeze stared at me and he tried his best to yell through the duct tape that was around his mouth. Although I was in the middle of a robbery, I was horny as hell and the icing on the cake in getting back at Squeeze would have been to hit his girl right there in front of his punk ass!

“Nah, Promise that’s whack. We got the dough, we ain’t raping nobody! That’s some punk shit,” Grams said.

“Ahight just tape her hands, mouth and feet and we’re outta here.”

With that order, Grams bound the chick to a chair and the two of us calmly walked out the door heading for Grams’ truck.

As we walked out, I gave the unsuspecting bouncer a pound and he told me to be careful cuz five-o was lurking everywhere. I appreciated the tip. Me and Grams jumped in the truck and were out. I directed Grams towards Atlantic Avenue and looked inside the bag of goods. I couldn’t believe how much cash was in the bag.

“There gotta be close to fifty thousand in that bag,” Grams predicted.

“That’s what’s up!”

I directed Grams to Rochdale Village in Queens. As we got closer, I used Grams’ cell to call Candy. I knew I’d be waking her up but also knew she’d be cool with it.

“Yeah, I’m in Queens now. I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I said.

We pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Burger King and divided up the spoils. We took a little less than twenty-six thousand each. Plus we each took a Rolex and a dog tag. I decided to swap the handgun that Grams had loaned me in exchange for letting him keep the weed that we had unexpectedly stumbled on during the robbery.

“This was the biggest stickup I ever did in my life!” Grams cheerfully exclaimed.

“Kid, this was what I did every day a few years back,” I boasted. “This is what I was born to do.”

Rochdale was right down the block from the Burger King so Grams drove down 137^th Avenue and dropped me off at Candy’s building. Before we parted, I thanked Grams for looking out. He was more than thankful to me for having given him the opportunity to make so much loot.

“If you need me, dog, just holla at me and I got you,” he assured me as he wrote down his home number and cell number on a piece of paper so that I would be sure to have it and wouldn’t just be relying on my memory as I usually did.

“No doubt,” I said as I gave him a pound.

Handing Grams one thousand dollars, I said to him, “Do me a favor, make sure that Marissa gets this and tell her it’s from me.”

Grams nodded and took the money. I instructed him on how to get to the Belt Parkway so that he could make his way to the Verrazano Bridge and back onto the New Jersey Turnpike. As Grams pulled off he appropriately blasted Ja Rule’s song Clap Back.

I rang Candy’s intercom and she immediately buzzed me into her lobby. I rode the elevator up to her apartment and she stood at her apartment door waiting for me. Although she looked as if she had just woken up, she was extremely excited to see me. She gave me the warmest hug and told me that I looked like I had gained some weight.

“You still look good, Promise.”

“Candy, you telling me I gained weight? Look at you, where the hell did you get that butt? You ain’t have that phatty a few years ago,” I jokingly said as the two of us laughed.

Candy escorted me into her immaculate apartment which had some bangin’ shiny hardwood floors. She grabbed me by the hand and escorted me over to the couch. Wearing her pajama pants, slippers and a T-shirt, Candy sat on her fluffy leather couch, crossed her legs and looked at me.

“So, how have you been, Promise?” she asked.

“How have I been?” I rhetorically asked. “How much time do you have and where do you want me to begin?”

The sun was up and it was still early so Candy began making breakfast.

“I got all day. Just talk,” she encouraged.

I didn’t mind talking to Candy and it turned out to be somewhat therapeutic. I told her about Squeeze and Show and what was really up between them and me. She had already heard Pooh had been killed and I told her about the circumstances leading to his death. To my surprise, she related a different story that had been circulating on the street about Pooh’s killer. I had always thought it was Nine and his crew who had killed Pooh but she said that everyone had heard that it was some Spanish kids.

Candy had no reason to lie to me. If it was true, that should have been the first thing that Show and his punk ass should have told me when I saw him that first night with Marissa. If Candy knew what the streets said about who Pooh’s killer really was then he and Squeeze should know what the deal was. Whateva... I didn’t even wanna think about it and I continued talking.

I filled her in on the horrible way in which Ashley’s mother had been killed. Then spilled that shit about all the drama with the cops and the feds and why they were after me. I even told her about Marissa. I gave her a full run down of what I had been through for the past year or so.

As I began to talk to her about Ashley and how much I missed her and worried about her, tears welled up in my eyes. I was too hood to just start bawling or to straight up cry in front of Candy but she could see how all this talking had made me feel real emotional about my daughter. Candy got closer trying to comfort me. She told me that everything would be alright.

“I hope so,” I said. “I just wish I knew where she was.”

That probably was eating at me more than anything. And the thing, I can’t just pick up the phone and start calling around searching for my daughter because I’ll get locked up.

I didn’t want any breakfast, so Candy came to the kitchen table sat in front of me and began eating the food that she had prepared. She asked about my family and if there was anybody that I was close to that would be willing to help me out in terms of locating my daughter.

“Yeah there’s relatives and close friends I could reach out to but those are the exact same people that I can’t have contact with because the cops and the feds are watching. You kna’imean? With me on the run, it’s not like I can just pick up the phone and call whoever I want to or just go by and visit whoever I want to.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you. I mean, I know some people that work with me who might be able to help. There’s this cool Italian dude at my job and I think his wife is a social worker so maybe she might be able to get some info on your daughter.”

“Candy, whatever you can do, I would really appreciate it... Matter of fact, if you can help me find out where Ashley is at, I’ll hit you off with like two g’s. It’ll be like a finder’s fee,” I said with a smile.

“Two thousand dollars? Promise, you ain’t gotta do that!”

“I know I don’t but I want to...”

Our conversation continued for hours. When we were through talking, Candy showed me around and explained where the towels and soap were so I could take a shower. Being that I couldn’t just leave her apartment and freely walk the streets, I couldn’t take Candy up on her offer later in the morning but I gave her $1500 and told her to buy some food with that money. I also gave her my clothing measurements and instructed her to pick up some much needed clothing outfits for herself and for me.

Eventually I got tired and as Candy went about her business for the day, I crashed in her bedroom. She had a nice king size waterbed. It was so much better than the hard lumpy sofa bed that Grams had me sleeping on. Chillin’ at Candy’s crib was real cool and seeing her was even better. I really liked her vibe.

Later on that night after Candy had come home and was preparing to go to sleep, she started talking church and bible talk. She told me that I needed to pray and ask God to help me figure things out.

I laughed as I said to Candy, “Yeah right! God don’t wanna hear from me. I already know I’m going to hell so it don’t matter. I can’t remember the last time that I prayed to God and I ain’t never read the bible in my life!”

Even after saying what I had said, Candy didn’t trip and didn’t get all pushy with the religious nonsense. She did say that she was gonna show me something in the bible that would shed some light on what I had been going through.

“When did you get all religious?” I asked.

“I’m not religious. I’m spiritual!” Candy replied. “And there is a big difference.”

Trying to bring the conversation in another direction, I moved closer to Candy and said, “So why don’t you and me let our spirits connect right now?”

“What you talkin’ about?” she asked.

“I’m sayin’.”

“You sayin’ what?” Candy asked with a smile.

“Why don’t you let a nigga hit that?”

Candy fell out laughing.

“What?” I asked.

“Is that what it’s gotten to now? That’s how niggas ask for pussy?” Then in a playful attempt to mock my voice, Candy stated, “Why don’t you let a nigga hit that?”

The two of us both started laughing at the situation because it really was funny. I moved closer to her and I started kissing on her neck and I told her, “Come on, you know how I do...”

Candy was getting turned on and I could tell that she was gonna comply with my request to let me hit it but out of nowhere she stopped and told me to hold up.

“I’m a give you some but I just want you to see this first.” Candy left the room and I couldn’t believe that the bitch came back with a bible and flipped it open and started reading from Proverbs. “Promise, this is from Proverbs 1:10 -16”

My son, if sinners entice you, do not give in to them. If they say, “Come along with us; let’s lie in wait for someone’s blood, let’s waylay some harmless soul; let’s swallow them alive, like the grave, and whole, like those who go down to the pit; we will get all sorts of valuable things and fill our houses with plunder; throw in your lot with us, and we will share a common purse”— my son, do not go along with them, do not set foot on their paths; for their feet rush into sin, they are swift to shed blood. “Do you understand that?” Candy asked.

“Yeah, actually I do... That’s deep right there,” I responded with full sincerity.

“Promise, I am definitely not preaching to you and I know I have my own issues but your problem is that you associate with the wrong people. Squeeze called you that night to go after Nine and his people and you listened to him and now look. And I know how y’all used to stick people up and all of that... It’s like when you’re young and you don’t know any better, that’s one thing. But Promise, you can’t look at the past and try to change it because the past is the past. The only thing that you can do is focus on the future. What I would say is just do you! Do you and stay away from the streets. Focus on finding your daughter and getting things straight legally. And I’m telling you, start praying! It works.”

Candy reminded me so much of Audrey because she was telling me what I needed to hear, and she was right.

“You right Candy... And I’m a listen to you.”

After I said that, there was this brief silence then Candy put the bible away and came close to me and started kissing on my neck this time.

“A nigga still wanna hit this?” Candy asked in a joking way.

We both laughed, and then I replied, “Nah, you killed the mood with all of that seriousness and the bible but I needed to hear it though.”

Candy apologized for killing the mood but the rest of the night wasn’t a complete waste as the two of us just chilled in her room watching a Sanford and Son marathon on the TV Land channel.

Sunday afternoon rolled around. Candy and I were in her living room chillin’, listening to the radio and drinking some rum and coke. We had to turn down the volume on the music because it sounded like someone was at her door.

“You expecting somebody?” I asked getting nervous thinking it was the cops. I quickly realized that if the cops had any inclination to get me inside, there would be no way that they’d politely knock and ask to come in.

“Nah, I’m not expecting anyone.”

“Just to be safe I’m a hide in your bathroom. I’ll be behind the shower curtain,” I said as I scurried off.

Candy’s bathroom was situated right near the living room and the front door wasn’t too far off from the bathroom.

I heard Candy ask “who is it?” and then I heard her unlocking the door.

“What’s up Ma’? We sorry to just be showing up unannounced but...”

From the sound of the voice it sounded like Show. More than likely Squeeze was with him.

“Damn!” I thought aloud. I knew that I had slipped up because I didn’t have my gun on me. It was stashed deep in Candy’s linen closet along with the loot from the robbery.

“You heard from Promise?” Show asked.

There was a brief moment of silence before Candy spoke. “Squeeze, you gonna come in my crib and not even speak? And I ain’t seen you in I don’t know how long?” Candy said in what sounded like her attempt to play things cool.

“My bad. Let me give you a hug,” Squeeze replied before adding, “I’m just kinda heated right now so you gotta forgive me.”

“What’s going on?” Candy asked.

“A whole lotta drama wit’ Promise, is all. You seen him or heard from him?”

“Nah, actually, Show I haven’t heard from him since that day I called you looking for him.”

“You sure, Candy?” Show asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure...”

There was some more silence.

“So what’s up? You was just chillin’ for the day?” Squeeze asked.

“Yup. Gotta get ready for work tomorrow.”

There was more silence as my heart raced.

“Candy was you by yourself all day today?” Show asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I was just wondering why there was two drink glasses on your coffee table.”

What da’ fuck? He think he got damn detective? I cursed inside my head.

“Oh, that’s from yesterday,” Candy lied, a horrible lie at that.

There was some more silence. All of a sudden, I heard Candy scream and didn’t know what was going on.

“Candy! Don’t lie to us!” Squeeze barked. Candy said nothing.

“I’ll choke the shit outta you, you lie to me!” Squeeze barked again.

I was ready to burst out the bathroom and get the showdown started but I nervously held my position.

“I’m not lying!” Candy said, followed by some coughing and gasping for air. She had probably just been freed from the grips of Squeeze’s hand around her neck.

“So if the drinks are from last night, why are there still ice cubes in them?”

“I don’t know!” Candy screamed.

“Squeeze, didn’t that nigga, Promise, have on a gray Sean John outfit at the club the other night?”

“Yeah,” Squeeze responded.

My mind was racing because I knew they were definitely on to me.

“Candy, whose Sean John jacket is that?” Show asked.

“Look! Y’all gotta go! Y’all can’t be coming up in my crib like this!”

“Show, I’m a check the apartment for that nigga. I bet you his ass is up in here.”

“You are not gonna just be walking through my apartment!” Candy yelled.

“Candy! Just chill and let us check the apartment!” Show screamed.

“No! Fuck that! I’m calling the cops!” Candy yelled back.

“You pick up that phone and I’ll kill you!” Show said real quiet like.

I was extremely heated and at the same time I was prepping myself for someone to come inside the bathroom so I could snuff ‘em. From the sounds of things, Squeeze was already rummaging through the one bedroom apartment.