Chapter 9: Money K

As I stood there with both of my baby mamas I knew I was moments away from a Worldstar Hip Hop moment. There was absolutely no reason for Yaya to walk into Joy. I saw that shit, it was very intentional. She hadn’t been on bullshit this whole 8 months, I don’t know why she was starting now. I knew I should have told Joy when she first stepped to me about being pregnant but how could I? Joy loved my dirty draws and even through all this mess I loved her too. I should have cut Yaya off a long time ago. Now look at me. 

Fuck.

Then I get a call from one of my lieutenants about some bullshit popping off at Treetop. Boogie should have been the one to call me not this nigga. I don’t know what he had going on but this wasn’t the time for fucking around.

As I drove up to the house, I was seeing red. It seems that not only was one of my trap houses hit but Black, one of my most loyal lieutenants was shot. Joy sat quiet holding my hand as I drove. I took her hand and put it in her lap. I know it hurt her for me to do it but her touch always softened me. This wasn’t the time for that. 

Once we got to the house I called Pop and told him I was going to scoop him before we headed up top. He had already heard about what happened so he was waiting. I ran upstairs and pulled out my old uniform. Black shirt, black jeans and black Tims. When I got back downstairs, Joy was sitting on the couch eating her Popeyes in silence. I kissed on the forehead.

“I don’t care what you have to do, but you make it home to me Kevin” she whispered.

“Always”.

I headed out to the garage with money and malice in my head. I jumped into Baby, my dropped black 65 chevy impala SS. I hadn’t broken her out in a long time but it looks like she is going to have to make her presence shown again. Minutes later I was heading down US-1 to the Treetop to see what the fuck was going on.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Money, shit went crazy. Man, I can’t even call it” Flex said shaking his head.

“Nigga tell him what happened. Stop all that extra shit” Pop’s voice boomed.

“Nigga I don’t know. We were sitting there counting money like normal. We were supposed to do a re-up earlier with Boogie but his ass wasn’t answering the phone. We were getting low with only had 3 bricks worth left.  Black went to the door for that young nigga Bud to drop off his money. Once he opened the door shit went left. Bud’s head exploded like a damn grapefruit, my nigga. These motherfuckers came in spraying. I know one had an AK, I don’t know what the other nigga had. Black grabbed his piece and got a few off. I think he shot one of those niggas in the arm but they got him my nigga straight through the heart. They probably would have got me too but I was behind the bar grabbing the Remy. Wasn’t shit I could do anyway nah mean? I heard 9 coming so I grabbed the bricks I could but didn’t get a chance to grab the money. I can’t believe they did my man like that. Black was 100 –”

Whap. Before he could say another word, Pop hit him across the face and sent him to sleep.

“I was sick of hearing that nigga lie. Let’s take him to the Bounce House. It’s been a while.”

“Treetop has two holes in the roof. One needs to be patched with care, just throw the tarp on the one by the door” I said calling Spark from my cleanup crew.

“Wake up nigga!” I said punching Flex in the face.

“Money. What the fuck?” Flex asked in a panic. I don’t know what was more effective, the shock of being woken up with your mouth full of blood or waking up and finding yourself strapped naked to a chair in the middle of a kitchen covered with plastic. 

“Your story was making my dude Pop feel some kind of way.” I said calmly.

He started shivering as his eyes followed mine to where Pop was standing. This nigga a fool. Pop was standing there in his chef apron and hat heating a screwdriver on the stove. 

“Tell me where the fuck my money is”

“I don’t know man. I don’t know. I told I only got the bricks man. They are in my car.”

I shook my head and Pop put the hot screwdriver on the side of his cheek. 

Flex screamed as the screwdriver began burning through his flesh. This nigga was about to pass out again. 

“Where is my fucking money Flex?” I barked.

“Damn Money I took it to Kema’s house. It was just chump change –” his sentence was interrupted by his screams.

Pop stabbed the screwdriver through his leg. The heat made it slide straight to the bone.

“So you stole from me for chump change like I ain’t made sure your whole family was eating. You snake mothefucker. The next one is going through your head or your dick. Now who did this?” I asked calmly.

“Money  –”

Pop pulled the screwdriver out of Flex’s leg, wiping the blood on his apron. Blood squirted everywhere. I am sure he had hit a major artery. I need my answer before he bled out.

“That nigga had pictures of my little girl. What was I supposed –” he said with panic in his voice staring at the blood out his leg.

Tat.

I released a single shot to his brain. He told me what I needed to know.

Shango wanted to war. Well he got it.

“Damn the bounce house has a hole too but you can just throw that shit out” I said calling Spark again. 

We changed clothes putting the bloody ones in a garbage bag.

“Lala you know that little girl Kema that Flex used to play with?” as soon as she answered my call. 

Lala was one of the females I called when women were involved. I didn’t like killing women.

“Yeah I know her. What’s good?”

“She stole my little cousin’s allowance. She needs to be put in time out.”

“Damn for real.”

“Yeah. I will be very grateful. He is real upset.”

“Say less.”

 

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