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Although he came in joking, I saw in his eyes that something was bothering him. Billion had brown eyes, but sometimes his eyes would get so dark. That was usually when he was angry about something or feeling emotional, but he was the type of person who held his emotions in. I still laughed at him as he came in there, fuckin’ with me.
Khari heard her father’s voice, and she quickly jumped out of her sleep and ran over to him. Yes, we knew the truth about who Khari belonged to, but I would always refer to Billion as her father because that’s what he is. He had the chance to walk away from her once the truth was revealed, but he didn’t.
“It’s not that simple. I gotta go through physical therapy and other stuff to gain back strength in my legs,” I told him.
He tied the balloons on of the chairs, and then he stood on the side of the bed. I looked down at his well-manicured fingers, and that’s when I saw the wedding band. The things that my daughter had told me about him being married were apparently true. I would not speak on it, though. I had no right to.
“Nice of you to grace the world with your presence again. The kids were missing you,” he let me know, keeping it short with me. He eventually took the seat near my bed, and Khari went over and started talking to him.
I eventually lost the fight against sleeping and drifted into a peaceful sleep. I didn’t want to dream about my grandmother again. After seeing the happy look on both my mother and my children’s faces when I woke up, I knew this was where I was supposed to be.
“I’m leaving the hospital now. What’s good?” I spoke into the phone to my dad as I got in my ride.
It was a little bit after ten at night, and I hoped that my dad was calling me with the news I had been expecting since last night. A fuck nigga murdered my uncle, and I wouldn’t sleep until I handled that. There were niggas out in the world who were some fucked up individuals and did sly shit every day of their fuckin’ lives, yet they were still alive and pushing. I’ll never understand how a nigga like my uncle, who went out of his way to give back to the community, a man who turned down job opportunities to coach track at a couple of universities to open his own organization right in the same hood he grew up in, could be the man who was murdered, and his story was being talked about on the news.
My uncle ain’t fuck with nobody. He might have fucked a couple of nigga’s bitches, but that was it. I’ve watched this man take money out of his pocket to give to kids he didn’t even know, just because he heard them saying they hadn’t eaten anything. Mind you, my uncle wasn’t a rich ass nigga, but he still did what he could. I just wanted to go back into time and wish I never received that call from my dad, telling me that my uncle was murdered.
Yesterday was going so fuckin’ good too. My wife celebrated her birthday, and I had her smiling all fuckin’ day. I spoiled her to the point that many people would shake their heads in shame at me and tell me that one person didn’t need all that shit, but this was Normani’s first birthday with me, so I wanted to go all out for her. We finally made up and went a whole day without going at each other’s throats, then I got hit with this bullshit ass call from my dad.
After I dropped Normani off yesterday at the house and walked her inside, just to make sure she was straight, I pulled off and went into hunting mode because I was killing whoever the fuck did this shit. I made a vow to myself that I would never take another life because I would have to answer for this shit one day, but this shit right here was personal to a nigga. They took somebody with the same blood running through his body as me. If I was fucked up about this shit, then you could only imagine the way my dad was feeling. He and my uncle were brothers, but they had a relationship like best friends.
I had never in my fuckin’ life seen my dad shed a tear. He was the reason I wasn’t in tune with my emotions either. Yesterday, when those detectives put a sheet over my uncle’s bullet-riddled body, I watched my ole boy drop to his knees as he broke down crying, holding his little brother in his arms. I’d been in a zone since then, and I swear I hadn’t slept yet. Now that my dad was calling, I was hoping that he was going to deliver some news that would make me feel just a little bit better, although I know I would never get my uncle back.
“1596 NE Drive. Meet me there. I’m doing this shit with or without you,” he spoke into the phone, and then he hung up.
I threw the phone down on the seat
and pulled out of the hospital parking lot in a hurry. Denim’s mother had called a few hours ago, screaming in the phone and letting me know that Denim had finally woken up from the coma. When she called me, I was in the projects, where my uncle was murdered last night, trying to find out if anyone saw what happened last night, but motha fuckas were acting like they didn’t see or hear shit.
After driving around for hours and still not coming up with anything, I took a break to check up on Denim. My wife wasn’t home. She was out with her sister and her mother. I all but forced Normani to get out of the house today, because if I hadn’t, she would not do shit but stay inside all day and worry herself sick about what I was out in the streets doing.
What I was doing right now was the same fuckin’ thing I would be doing if somebody ever did some shit like this to my wife or any other person I loved. I just hoped this address that my ole boy just gave me was some solid shit because I wanted the motha fucka out by the time we buried my uncle next week. So, with the music down low, I drove and used the time to gather my thoughts, hoping this shit ended tonight.
It took me about fifteen minutes to make it to the address that my dad had texted me. We were in an area with run-down homes that were right in the projects. I circled the block twice because I wanted a clear shot of the house, so I could see what we would be up against before we went inside. There were lights on inside the house and one car parked in the driveway. That one car parked didn’t mean shit because niggas these days weren’t getting no real money, so it could be one car, but fifty niggas could be inside.
I parked a couple of blocks down, and at the same time, my ole boy jumped out of the shadows. He was dressed in all black, just like me, blending in with the darkness. This shit we were doing right now wasn’t new for either of us. Was it something that we hadn’t done in a long time? Yeah, and for my father, it had been longer because he retired from the streets way before I did. Shit, six years ago, before I went in, I was still doing jobs, dressing in all black, and pulling up on niggas.
“I got a call from a homie from back in the days. He got word from one of his lil niggas, and he said that the person who killed my brother was a nigga whose bitch Malcom was fuckin’. Not only did he kill my brother, but he killed the bitch too. They say that this is an old house that he grew up in with his mama. His mama died years ago, but he kept the house. His name is Mack. He’s supposedly laying low, and he plans to get the fuck out of town first thing in the morning.
“This don’t have to be a blood bath, killing a bunch of unnecessary people because he should be the only one inside. At the same time, I don’t know that for sure, so when we get in there, blast that motha fuckin’ gun on anybody standing. I just lost my fuckin’ brother, and I’m not about to lose my only child next! This shit is personal. I had every intention of doing it on my own, but I was told that you were in the hood today, asking questions, so I knew you were going to find a way to do this shit with or without me. He was like a second father to you, so I get that you are seeking vengeance too. Let’s go,” he said and pulled out his gun from the waistband of his sweats.
My gun was in tow too, and we walked over to the house that I’d already passed. There was a door on the side of the house, and my dad pointed toward it. We quietly walked over, and he took a side while I took the other. My father brought his hand up, and he counted down from five. Once he got to one, he raised his foot and kicked down the door. The second the door was kicked down, there was a figure standing right by the door who had been waiting for us.
Pow! He fired his gun, sending off that weak ass shot. Before his bullet could even touch the ground, I pulled my trigger, sending out a headshot and making pieces of his brain fly on the dirty, white walls in the house.
“That ain’t Mack! Come on. He in this bitch because I saw a light flick in the back room!” my dad said in an aggressive whisper.
I stepped over the dead body like it was nothing, and we walked further into the house. Once inside, bullets flew in every direction, and this was where me and my ole boy had to separate. I took cover behind couches, tables, whatever I could find as I busted my gun. I was hiding behind a dingy ass, green couch as bullets flew in my direction. I thought about the wife I had back at home, who would lose her fuckin’ mind if I didn’t make it out of this shit, so I looked out, got a clear shot of the figure, and…
Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!
Both me and my dad bust at him, taking him on from different angles. The body dropped to the ground, and I jumped up, rushing over to the body, still carrying the gun in my hands.
“That’s him?” I asked my dad while standing over a dead body like it was nothing.
“Yeah. Check all the rooms. Make sure nobody else is in here,” he said.
As I stood over the man responsible for taking away a nigga who meant so much to me, I thought back to last night and how I had to stand over my uncle with all those bullet holes in his body. Still with the gun trained on the body that was before me, I entered more slugs into his body because I felt like the ones from before weren’t enough.
