P
PROLOGUE
A young man sat duct-taped to an iron chair inside of a dark basement. The chain linked light bulb dangling from above illuminated a light that exposed the damages of the brutal beating he’d taken. He had a golf ball size knot on his forehead, an eye that was swollen shut and a broken nose that had doubled in size. His mug was bruised black and blue. A series of tiny cuts littered his face and their bleeding had run down his neck and stained the chest of his wife-beater pink. He looked around at his four captors with trembling legs, piss dripping from the edge of his chair and making a small puddle at his feet.
“Sun, I suggest you tell us where our money is before level #2 of this interrogat-ion begins, and believe me if you’ve seen what these eyes have seen Supa do to cats with his torture methods…Let’s not take it that far. Let’s end this now. What did you do with the money you stole?” Casanova asked, sounding calm and sincere. He was damn near convincing. Casa-nova or Double O.G Cas as he was called was the oldest homie present at sixty-two. He had a thick crop of salt & pepper dreadlocks that hung over his shoulders and back and a matching beard. His neck was thick and his body was rippled with muscles like he played pro football. Casanova was a member of the 4Tray Gangsta Crips as well as a member of the Five Percent faith.
The young man looked to Supacrip who was removing the bloody brass-knuckles that he’d just finished using on him. He had put on some goggles and was pulling on yellow dishwashing gloves. Only God knew what he had in store for the youth. He wore an evil smile as
he tried to decide what power tool to use on his capture.
“Man, this nigga ain’t gone talk, cuz.” Nike said looking at the number Supacrip had done on the young man duct-taped to the chair. Nike was a short, muscular cat that wore his hair in a close fade. He’d gotten his name from the Nike logo like scar under his right-eye. Killing was his hobby and slinging crack was his habit. He was slowly churning out a resume that was as lengthy and brutal as some of the notorious gangsters his hood had spawned.
“Nah, this bitch ass nigga gone tell me where my money is,” C-note exclaimed with a Belizean accent. He was a caramel complexion brother with a crown of naturally curly hair he wore in a taper-fade. He screwed the cap off a bottle of rubbing alcohol and splashed it on the capture’s wounds. The young man whipped his head back and forth, screaming in agony and thrashing around in the chair. “Shit feels like acid when it hit them open wounds and shit, don’t it? Well, it’s gone get a hell of a lot worse before we’re done.” He harped up spit and spat on the young man before throwing the bottle at his head. “Fuck is your cousin, Nike?”
Nike shrugged. “Cuz, said he was on his way like 15 minutes ago.” He glanced at his watch and pulled out his cell. “I’ma bout to call him again,” He began punching a number on the digital screen of his cell.
“No need, I’m already here.” Nightmare said as he ascended the staircase with a pit bull on a chain leading the way. He was a tall dark skinned dude with a face that belonged on the F.B.I’s most wanted poster. His rap sheet boasted everything from pimping and pandering to attempted murder. He had a blue bandana tied around his head Aunty Jemima style and a blue button-down shirt with a bandana print.
Nightmare slapped hands with his homies before turning around to the young
man. “So, this is the little nigga that cleaned us outta mill, huh?”
“Yep, that’s him, he ain’t talking but he will be in a sec,” Supacrip opened and closed the hedge clippers rapidly, making the sharp metal blades cling. “One of y’all niggaz unzip his pants and pull out his dick.”
“Ah nah, cuz, y’all gone cut off my shit?” The young man’s head darted around at the faces surrounding him. “Please, man, don’t cut off my dick. Oh God! Help! Help!”
“Shut cho ho ass up,” Nike pointed his pistol at the youth’s head, putting him on mute and causing him to whimper.
“I’m not touching his dick,” C-note frowned.
“I’m not doing it either.” Cas said.
Supacrip looked to Nike. “Cuz, I don’t know why you’re looking this way.”
“I’m doing all the torturing and shit, the least y’all could do is pull the nigga’s wang out.” Supacrip said.
“That’s right; you’re doing all of the torturing so you pull his thang out. This is your part of the game, sun.” Cas told him.
“Fuck it, I’ll do it. Hold these,” Supacrip passed the hedge clippers to Nike. He started over in the young man’s direction but Nightmare stopped him.
“Chill, no need to get that bloody, I’ll find out where the nigga stashed our shit,” Nightmare chained his pit to a pillar in the basement and approached the young man. He looked to be relieved that he wasn’t about to have his penis severed.
“Nightmare, thank God you’re here, cuz. They…” the young man’s words died in his throat as Nightmare brought his palm back and forth across his face.
SMACK!
SMACK!
Nightmare viciously smacked the youth across the face until he drew blood. He then wiped his hand off on the young man’s stained wife beater.
“Where the fuck is the money, nigga? I’m not gonna ask your ass again.” Night-mare swore. Seeing its master agitated caused the pit bull to go wild barking and struggling to get off the chain.
“Nightmare, why are you doing me like this, fam? You know…” again he was put to silence by Nightmare vicious backhand slaps. The O.G crip’s open palm felt like punches from all of his years of pumping iron. The blows had left the youth dazed and barely conscious. Nightmare leaned in close to him so no one could hear him. “Did y’all put the loot up where I told you to?” the young man mumbled some jargon he couldn’t understand. Nightmare grabbed him by his jaw and looked him in the eyes, a mixture of blood and saliva oozed down his hand. “Come on now. I’m tryna get chu outta here but chu gotta let me know where you stashed that paper. Did it make it to the spot where we agreed to meet?”
“Yeah… yeah, man. We stashed it under the floorboards.”
“Alright, good,” Nightmare gently patted him on the cheek and turned around to his comrades, pulling a chrome Desert Eagle from his waistband.
BLAM!
“Ahhh,” Irv yelled out in agony as a bullet tore through his small intestine and dropped him to the basement floor. He’d been lurking in the shadows of the basement the whole time. He was so quiet that everyone had forgotten that he was there except the young man duct-
taped to the chair. He’d been snarling and giving him the evil eye warning him not to say any-thing about the money they’d stole from one of the stash houses.
“Fuck you shoot Irv for, cuz?” Nike asked.
“He was with Dizzy when he robbed us, said it was all his idea.” Nightmare informed him. “Where’s our money, Irv?”
“You know where the fuck it’s at, don’t play stupid.” He spat blood on the ground.
Nightmare blew a hole through Irv’s hand and he hollered out in excruciation, cradling his mitt. “You got some more smart shit to say, tough guy?”
“Yeah, suck my dick, bitch!” Irv roared back defiantly. That was the last words he’d ever speak, a bullet through the skull guaranteed that. Irv hit the floor bug eyed, leaving a splatter that was a combination of blood and brain matter scattered over the floor.
Nightmare pulled a gold Desert Eagle from his waistband and turned around to the young man duct-taped to the chair. Seeing the gleam of something shiny and gold caused the youth to snap out of his daze. He was about to plead his case when a bullet sent him to a place where it’s always hot.
“What the fuck, man!” C-note bellowed. “How are we going to find our money now?”
“That’s what I wanna know.” Cas added, you could tell he was pissed but he was trying to hide it. He was normally a man who kept a cool and calm head.
“Dizzy told me they used the loot to pay a debt to some Haitians before I slept him.” Nightmare lied. “I just asked Irv to see if he’d lied.”
“You couldn’t have left one of them alive to tell us where to find these cock suckas, man?” C-Note asked.
“What chu plan on doing? Putting the love on the dreads, fam?” Cas said.
“You damn right, don’t nobody take nothing of mine cause if they do they’ll have the devil on their heels.”
“Think, young brotha,” Cas pointed a finger to his temple. “A war is only gone cost us more paper…maybe more than we’ve already lost.”
“We’re not about to take another lost, fuck that!” C-note said.
“We’re not,” Nightmare said to C-note. “But you are.”
“How you figure, nigga?” C-note frowned.
“Before we started this union we all agreed that we’d be responsible for whoever we brought to the table.” Nightmare reminded him. “If I’m not mistaken, it was you that brought Dizzy and Irv on.”
“True,” Cas nodded.
“Them are your boys, fam.” Nike added.
C-Note looked around at all of the faces in the basement; everyone seemed to ag-ree. “Alright, fuck it, y’all got that. I’ll have Crow bring y’all that paper tomorrow evening.” C-Note hated to be submissive but it was true they all did agree on that very ruling. “That ain’t not-hing but a little short paper anyway.”
“Spoken like a true boss,” Cas smiled and patted his shoulder.
“Cool,” Nightmare tucked his Desert Eagles in his waistband. “Nike, Supa, y’all drop these bodies where someone can find them. I got some place I gotta be.”
***
Nightmare pressed his ear against the dusty wood floorboards and listened for an area that wasn’t shallow as he knocked around on it with a crowbar. Finding an area that wasn’t shallow he smiled wickedly and drove the crowbar into the slight openings between the boards. One by one he popped the boards up and removed them until he revealed a dingy beige sack be-neath them. He opened up the sack and found it loaded with wrinkled rubber-band stacks of cash. He smiled like The Grinch that stole Christmas.
Nightmare was one of the sleaziest and cleverest sons of bitch’s to have ever breathed air. He’d gotten Irv and Dizzy to rob the spot where the money was collected at the end of the month from crack sales with promises that they could split $500 grand two ways while he kept the other five for himself. The deal sounded too sweet for the knuckleheads to pass up so they went through with it not knowing they were dealing with the devil reincarnated. Nightmare had always planned to walk off with the money, only he was going to off the twosome back at the condemned house. When Nike ran back the surveillance footage in the spot he found that it was Dizzy that robbed them, it threw a wrench in Nightmare’s plan but he still managed to turn the table in his favor.
“You find it, daddy?” Bobby Blue turned around from where she was peering through the boarded up window, gripping a Russian Ruger.
“Yeah, take this to the car,” Nightmare sat the sack aside.
Bobby Blue’s leopard print red bottom Christian Louboutin’s echoed on the wood floorboards as she approached Nightmare, blowing pink bubbles out of her Bubble Yum. She was in a leopard print spandex shirt and matching skirt that hugged her body.
Bobby Blue was Nightmare’s ride or die chick; his numbre uno. She had been
with him since the beginning of his pimping exploits. While other whores had come and gone old Bobby Blue was still around holding the gangster pimp down.
She was quite the vision with her long, wavy hair, smooth coco skin and light brown eyes, all of which were compliments of her Ethiopian heritage. The dimples in her cheeks and chin were the perfect marriage to her baby face. Her balloon breasts and shapely round ass was all natural, though most swore she had some work done. Standing at 5’10, she was one Amazon of a woman.
Bobby’s father named her after the lead singer in the jazz band he played with back home. Ms. Bobby Latoya Blue died of a heroin over dose. Her band mates found her in the back bathroom of the club they were performing at that night. She was slumped upon the com-
mode with a syringe needle in her arm. If it wasn’t for her Smurf blue skin they would have thought she was asleep.
While Nightmare began putting the floorboards back in place, Bobby picked up the sack and carried it out towards the backdoor. Most men would have been leery about having their woman go off with so much money, but Nightmare had complete faith in his game. He’d trained Bobby well and knew she’d be loyal to him without a fault.
