HARDAWAY | trilogy

V3 - Chapter Nine.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

♪ Hopin' God's blessings stick with ya
Picture the neighborhood kingpin, who's gettin bigger
Familiar face, but a man now, it's Lil' Trigga
Now Lil' Mo was a soldier to the fullest ♪

Hardcore Rap by 2Pac and Outlawz booms from the trunk speakers of the candy blue box Chevrolet Caprice on 28 inch rims parked near the lot full of people in front of the tattoo shop and carrying candles for Cameron's candlelight vigil. Every Lyrewood Crip in town had shown up to pay respect in Cameron's memory. It's a hour after sunset and I had just got out of my vehicle I parked across the street with my olive, lace-up booties padding with the pavement. I had on a pair of dark, rip knee jeans and a ribbed cami tank.

From where I stood, I seen on the sidewalk near the reflective glass window of the tattoo shop were pictures of Cameron surrounded by candles. I searched around and in the process I spotted Banner sitting on the hood of the blue Caprice the music came from. He garbed in black from head to toe with a blue bandana around his neck, while smoking a blunt in his hand.

I pondered on if he knew that his mother was the one who murdered a young man that practically his family.

Shaking my head, I look away from him and search around once more, but for Cameron's uncle since he's the only one I have not saw. About to walk more towards the tattoo shop, I hear my name being called. I turned my head back to Banner and seen him approaching me.

"Whatchu doin' hea?" He asked once he reached me.

"I knew Cameron too." I responded eying him, "Question is why you here?"

He chuckled, blowing out the marijuana smoke. "Why wouldn't I be? He family."

"Well, considering the reason he dead. . ." I offered him a knowing stare as his smirk fell and replaced with a glare. "Yeah; I know. Some 'family' either one of y'all claiming."

As quickly as his smirk flattened, it reappeared. "I never knew what it is bout you that have my brotha so weak and openin' his mouth to you; pussy and head must be magnificent."

"Spell it."

He only continued that ugly smirk and puffing his blunt.

"Thought so. Where is Mugga?"

"M-A-G-N-I-F-I-C-E-N-T," he spelled it correctly, as thin smoke released from his lips and stepped in my face. "Don't play wit me. I'ma intelligent nigga."

"Congratulations," I roll my eyes and asked, "Now, where is Mugga?"

"In his shop."

Without as much as a thank you, I walked out of his face and towards the shop. When I entered the waiting space the bell chimed at my entrance and I spotted the solid built gentleman with a butterscotch skin tone and well-groomed dreadlocks; Jeffery Spencer or better known as Mugga. Aside from him being Rico's best friend, he and I have our own relationship since I was best friends with his sister Toni Spencer, Cameron's mother.

"Hey..."

My soft tone captured his attention. Sadness glint his eyes even when he forced a smile.