Page 50 of He Thugged Me First

“Look, I don’t need yo’ ass pulling up out here with the guns pulled,” Kasair said.

“Long as he doesn’t come out of his neck, he’s safe.” I shrugged.

We both laughed. “You can’t be out here shooting motherfuckers because their mouths are slick.”

“And why the fuck not? That disrespectful shit is beneath me.” I screwed my face up and looked ahead. We had pulled up in front of some baby mansion ass spot. I never understood niggas these days. They did the dumbest shit. Now why the fuck would he move out here and get this baby mansion and park a fucking Maxima in the driveway? Wasn’t shit wrong with a Maxima, but the fact that the market out here was selling for one point three mill a house and he had a vehicle with temporary plates wasn’t sitting well with me. At this point, the nigga was bogus banging with his fraudulent ass.

KASAIR

The moment we pulled up to this goofy ass nigga’s crib, both mine and Quari’s demeanors changed. All the joking and kidding shit disappeared as we exited the car and walked up to Gotti’s door. I rang the doorbell, and Quari’s nutty ass leaned against the side of the door.

It didn’t take long before somebody was opening the door. It was a little girl who looked no older than Mel.

“Wassup, shorty? Go get ya pops.” I smiled at her.

“Galaxy, what did I tell you abou—” A male voice walked into the doorway and looked from me to Quari.

“Galaxy, go to ya room and?—”

“Ain’t nobody here to hurt you, Gerald Carpenter. We’re just here to talk, right?” I looked toward Quari who nodded. I didn’t believe this nigga Quari, but I was hoping this man didn’t start to speak outside of his neck because Quari would handle it expeditiously.

Gotti looked speechless, but he walked out of the door and closed it behind him. I took it he had never been slid on. “What y’all niggas doing here?” he asked.

“Came to talk with you,” I responded, watching Quari walk over and take a seat on the man’s bench like he owned the spot.

He turned around pissed. “About? This is my place of?—”

“Peace? Nigga, it can stay that if you answer these fucking questions,” Quari responded before I could.

He looked over at Quari before back at me. He knew how things flowed with us, but especially Quari. His reputation preceded him. “What do you need?”

“You had some niggas come shoot at me?” I asked.

“Hell nah. Fuck I look like, and if I took shots then you’d know.” He hopped tough. The sound of the screwing on of a silencer made me look toward Quari.

“See, that’s what I need the truth about. My boy got shot, and a nigga screamed ya name, so you know something, right?” Quari asked.

Gotti put his fist together before looking at me then the ground. “Look, I make it a habit of staying in my own fucking business, and especially outta family squabbles.”

“Well curve ya habit and let us in on that squabble,” Quari responded.

“Some nigga name Miles that used to work for me came through my blocks a few months back, claiming he had beef with Mazz. Biga and Neph told his ass to handle that shit on his own merit, what we got work on both sides. He didn’t like that too much. About a week later, he got popped on a delivery and was out quick as fuck. He didn’t do any time, and I didn’t trust it, so I had Neph give him his walking papers. When he walked, a few lil’ niggas under him did as well. He claimed his beef with Mazz was over their moms. He said they were brothers and?—”

“Gerald, what the hell is goin—” An older woman’s voice filled the space. I recognized the voice off impact, so when I looked up, my expression changed. I knew her, though she’d aged significantly. I could never forget the woman who birthed me.

“Ma?”

Chapter 12

MAZZ

This school couldn’t tell me shit at this point. They had shown me a surveillance video of a nigga who looked nothing like me, picking my sister up. I couldn’t even speak because I was on the verge of blowing the fuck up in this school. Instead of sitting there and listening to these people tell me all that I didn’t want to hear and apologize, I turned and walked out of the door. I had to find my sister, though I didn’t know the first place to look. Once I stepped out of the door something didn’t feel right. I looked up and there she was walking toward me without a care in the world.

“Mel!”

“Mazzi!” She screamed running to me.

The moment her six-year-old frame was in my arms I pulled her tight kissing her forehead. When I pulled back, she was just looking at me.

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