various tasks ranging from recruiting females to knocking potential prey for us. Being how all the niggas feared us, we had to rely on the bitches for intel on the trick ass niggas who came into town.
Now KeKe, she went by KeKe to the click - she was the ride or die bitch. She had been a part of the team since day one. She was not only gansta, KeKe was sexy. Standing five-feet-eight inches, one-hundred-forty-five pounds, with long, wavy black hair which she kept done, along with her nails and perfectly manicured toes, she stayed in the latest gear. Whether it be Prada or Fendi, she rocked it like it was made for her. At age twenty-four she had seen her share of out-of-town niggas come and go, and to a newcomer coming into our city she was the prize bitch to have (or so they thought).
The crew quieted down so Sinatra could place the call to KeKe. After the third ring a sexy, enticing voice came over the phone. “Hello.”
“Yea KeKe, this Sinatra. What’s good Lil’ Momma?”
“What’s cracken my nigga?” replied KeKe.
“Dig this. We’re over at the spot going over the plan and was calling to confirm things. So is it still on for tonight? You know we’re going for the whole kit tonight baby girl, so don’t let him cancel out on ya,” Noodle explains.
“Yeah I’m already knowing. I actually just got off the phone with his soft ass and believe me all I had to do was mention to him that this here hot pussy was in need of a good touching up and it was a wrap.”
“Okay. What time do we need to be there?”
“Seven. Is Dig a Hole with you?” asked KeKe.
“Yeah he’s right here, hold on.” Passing the phone, Dig a Hole says, “What it do?”
“Check this out Boo, I have another fish on the line and I believe this is a big one. Check it out. Me and a few of my bitches were out at Club Cristal and there was some niggas from Chicago in there super flossing, buying the bar out and shit. One of the niggas approached me with a bottle of Cristal and you know me, I declined. Telling him I can buy my own drinks, it’s the rent I need help with. Like a fish to a hook he took the bait, bragging about what and who he was. Later he was asking me did I have some females who wanted to entertain him and his boys at a private party they were having tonight in St. Paul. I told him I’d see what I could do and took his number down. Real talk, the boy was blinding me with his jewels alone, not to mention the whole crew was iced out. I would have called last night but I knew ya’ll was preoccupied with that other matter. Speaking of which how did that go?” KeKe asked.
“All went well and we’ll bring your chop over when we come at seven. Look, call them cats and tell them it’s all good. Get a few of the girls that are expendable and see what time and where this get-together is. We might just be able to swing through there if all goes well with Steele tonight. Call if something changes. If not, see ya at seven,” Dig a Hole instructed and hung up the phone.
“Now back to the point at hand,” continuing on as if he never was on the phone, “I’m going to take three of ya with me on this one, but everyone else is on standby for the Chicago cats. Big T, 740 and Fuck U will come with me. Quarter Man, you’ll monitor the police scanners from here. Gutter, you’ll drive the van to the pick-up spot once we obtain the info. Zeke will go with you as well for security. I want everyone’s walkie talkies on Channel 8.”
Toot with his stuttering ass asked the dumbest question, “What if you can’t get the info out of him?” The cold stare from Dig a Hole must have been enough of an answer to relieve him of any doubts he may have had.
“Now listen up boys, this is the big one. Hopefully we’ll hit him for the fifty thangs he brought in and also be able to make him reveal his connect’s location, or set up a buy for us. From what KeKe told me, he counted $200,000 at his spot three days ago. Now, as of yet, we don’t know where the money is, but that’s only a matter of time. For now let’s just lay low until we meet up at KeKe’s tonight,” Dig a Hole dictated.
Big T was the first to say, “Let’s break out the toys” and quickly led the way to the basement where there was enough arsenal to take on a small army. There was everything from 38 Specials to 50 Cal machine guns, Calicos, M16, AK47, and MP5’s. You name it and it was there, not to mention the endless supply of ammunition; the deadliest being the black talon, armor piercing bullets. After everyone had their weapon of choice, they all, along with their bulletproof vests, proceeded to leave the spot.
CHAPTER THREE
Feeling slightly paranoid, Dig a Hole drove around the block several times before pulling into his driveway. Noticing his boo’s car was home he proceeded into the house hoping she didn’t go into their bedroom closet and find the fifty grand he left in the grocery bag on the floor. Upon entering the home he was immediately met by the smell of smothered pork chops. Knowing she wasn’t one to half step when it came to getting down in the kitchen, he started smiling knowing there were several other dishes to accompany those smothered chops.
Quietly creeping up behind her, he playfully smacked her on her apple-bottom-shaped ass. As she turned around, he started rubbing the huge belly protruding from beneath her DKNY blouse while rubbing gently on his babies and kissing all over her neck knowing this is what she liked him to do.
This being his first child had him overwhelmed with joy because not only was there going to be one, there were two! At times he would allow himself to slip into thoughts of taking the half mil he had stashed and moving down south with his boo and soon to be babies, simply because it would be a safer place for them to raise their children. He visualized living a normal life, being able to ride with his kids and not fear retaliation from something him or one of the guys did.
But hey, that’s another life. His reality is “it’s Bogus-Motherfucken-D-Siple ‘til the world blows up, and this is his city.” To leave it would be giving what was his away; something he couldn’t imagine doing. So if the bitch niggas wanted his city, or him, they better come with them choppers blazing, because it’s a known fact he keeps a banger and it stays cocked and ready for whatever comes his way. It was a hobby sending bitch-made out-of- town niggas back home in pine boxes or plastic bags. Many of the unfortunate ones have yet to be found.
Coming back to his present mind, he asked Candyce, “How long before dinner’s ready?”
She replied with a look that told him she wasn’t in no rush. Laughing it off he proceeded up to their bedroom to see if his stash had been disturbed. Seeing it hadn’t been touched, he moved it to the secret safe he had hidden in the wall. Putting the fifty racks in there, he made sure it was closed and secure and decided to relax and lie down, but not before stripping off his leather Pelle Pelle coat, Sean Jean jeans and sweatshirt, along with the bulletproof vest. He pulled the Mac 11 Submachine Gun from his custom holster, placing it on the dresser, and laid back on his four-poster New York king size bed, contemplating the event the night would bring forth and remembering how this particular lick came about.
KeKe had been dating the head of the Detroit boy’s click for about four months now, gaining his trust by taking trips with him and assisting him with minor transactions; at times even allowing him to cook the shit up in her house. And now was the time to reap the rewards of her labors. This particular cat was a pillow-talking nigga. After getting comfortable with her he revealed his entire operation. The only thing he left out was the info on his connect. He, like many others, fell for KeKe’s pretty hazel eyes, thick thighs and that ass of hers that would put J-Lo to shame. KeKe was the definition of ghetto fabulous. She found out that her trick Steele was giving his workers the night off to go to Auggie’s strip bar in downtown Minneapolis, leaving his spot easily accessible
