Memphis Streets 2 (Urban)

Chapter 19- Monica

I know that my ass is taking a chance rolling over to Shotgun Row. It ain't too far-fetched to believe that Le'Shelle's most faithful Queen Gs won't jump my ass the minute I step out of my SUV. And it's not like Shi is around to act like my personal bodyguard anymore. If shit pops off, I'm on my own. But for now I'm relying on the fact that I have Snake's baby baking in my oven to shield me.

Still, that doesn't stop my heart from jumping into the center of my throat the minute I turn onto Shotgun Row. First off, there's an awful lot of niggas roaming around-more than normal for a Monday afternoon. Then I see why. The police got the whole damn street lit up with blue lights.

"What the fuck?" I roll to a stop outside my momma's crib.

When I hop out of my vehicle, my eyes zoom in on Captain Melvin Smith leaning all up in Momma Peaches's face. He's so close I can't tell whether he's about to kiss her or spit on her. My momma is on the porch with a smile as big as the whole state of Tennessee.

"What's going on?"

I ask, creeping up the stairs while trying to make sure that I don't miss shit.

"Who gives a fuck-as long as they lock that old bitch's ass up, I'll be happy."

I cut my eyes over at her and shake my head. The beef between these two goes way back to the time when Momma Peaches lopped off an ear on one of my momma's ex-boyfriends. Since she had done it to protect me, it made the old lady gangsta a hero in my eyes, but I'm not so dumb not to know that she has plenty of enemies and that going back to jail ain't nothing but a thang. Hell, she done floated in and out of that muthafucka so many times, I wouldn't be surprised if there is already a cell block named after her.

When Captain Smith turns and marches back down the porch steps, my momma emits a disappointed moan before heading back into the house. The front door slams behind her with a loud bam! I don't budge. I watch Memphis's much-bragged-about supercop with my own disgust curdling in my blood. Every soldier around here who has ever had handcuffs on their asses knows that Melvin Smith is not the nigga to fuck with. The muthafucka is as dirty as they come. Trust and believe that back when I was trafficking, I had to slob on that old man's dick more than my fair share or cut his ass in on the action to get a few charges dropped. The only difference between him and the other hustlers out here is that he carries a badge.

I have to hand it to him-the couple of times I've seen his ass on the news, the old man was slicker than a can of fucking oil. With all that cheesing and grinning, the only thing that was missing was a pair of tap shoes. But his little show must work 'cause he got white folks believing they got the right nigga in charge for the job. Judging by his and Momma Peaches's faces, there is still no love lost between them two. Even I've been around long enough to remember how hard the relentless cop came down on Momma Peaches's man, Isaac.

Hell, he made most of his high-profile busts off the backs of the Vice Disciples, which in turn gave that crooked nigga most of his stripes. You'd think he'd at least send us a Christmas card every now and then. But something else is going on. I can tell by the way the lines in his face are deepening. Before I can think too hard about it, a white truck turns down onto Shotgun Row, and I'm barely able to make out the words ANIMAL CONTROL on its side before it screeches to a stop in front of Snake and Le'Shelle's crib.

That catches my attention as I realize that the other police cars aren't around Momma Peaches's place but around my man's crib.

"What the fuck?"

All thoughts of cussing my momma out for not relaying the messages from Children's Services fly out of my head. My nosy ass drifts toward the action like the rest of these muthafuckas out here. Shit. My whole upgrade situation is totally dependent on Snake's ass being able to draw breath. Until this moment, I really haven't given much thought to anything actually happening to that nigga. The muthafucka is a legend in these streets. Superman with two Glocks in his hands. Ain't nobody been able to take his ass out, and many have tried. But what if he gets locked up? Fuck.