Chapter 16
Amir
Hov and Crew called for us to have a meeting up at The G Spot, which was Scotty’s tattoo shop.
From what I knew, this shop had been open for over a year and was getting plenty of customers because of the high-profile mutha fuckas that got tatted here.
All types of rappers and shit got tattoos, and the way the world is full of followers, that’s all it took.
I hear he was making pretty decent money here because he bragged about it all the time during poker, games, and shit.
I see he was trying to make different forms of revenue, too, and learning from his peers that the drug game isn’t the only game to be in.
When I arrived, I parked out front where all the guys had their cars lined up on the curb, and I squeezed into one of the last spots left. This side of Harlem was always crowded and packed with tourists, but it made for the right spot for us all to gather undetected.
There was no real New York shit going down here, and every real New York resident marked this area as a tourist spot.
We were able to slide in and slide out because niggas just weren’t pulling hits over here.
There were too many eyes, and too many witnesses to commit any crime.
On top of that, no one outside the circle knew that Scotty was the owner.
When we held meetings here, Scotty closed the books so even a tourist mutha fucka couldn’t run their mouths.
The last time we got shot at was hopefully the last.
Before getting out of the car, I dialed Delilah’s number again after I’d called her several times with no answer all day.
She knew I hated when she didn’t answer my calls, which may be the very reason she was playing this game in the first place.
Could be that, or she was sick and broken down like my aunt used to be.
That was a thought I hated even more than her ignoring me.
That guilt she put over my heart was much worse than any physical pain I’ve felt recently, and I’ve been shot.
I shook off the feeling I had, and I walked through the door, causing the doorbell to chime.
I was immediately greeted by Kim, who was the receptionist. She was standing back there in a red spandex dress, tight on her body, that stopped way above her thighs.
The large hello kitty tattoo on her left leg was one of the first things you seen when you saw her and I knew every detail of that tacky ass shit because I’ve had her thighs in the air, plenty of days in the past. She knew it was too cold for that shit she had on.
“Welcome to the G Spot, Amir Quatar.”
She smiled at me, twirling her hair.
“Where the guys at?”
“They are in the back. Crew is currently getting a tattoo of his wife’s name on his neck.”
“Oh, that’s what’s up.”
“He must’ve cheated on her.”
She had a satisfied look on her face, and I continued past the front desk.
“Nah, I doubt that.”
“I don’t know why. This is Crew that we are talking about.”
“As long as it’s not you we are talking about, I don’t believe the cheating narrative, now if you will excuse me.” I walked further back into the shop.
When I stepped into the back room, I greeted all the niggas back there, ending with Hov and Crew.
Crew’s head was tilted to the side, so he dapped me up without looking in my direction.
“Nigga, I know you was out getting some pussy last night.”
“Why is that?”
I lifted an eyebrow feeling guilt that had me paranoid.
“Because you the most punctual nigga I know and you were so late that I've wasted time by tatting my bitch's name on my neck waiting on you.”
“Well that's alright. You needed to be branded, my boy.” Hov cut in.
“I got Ciara’s name on me so many places you would think I was a fuckin contract.”
Their dedication to their wives was honestly fire as shit, saying that these two niggas could most likely get any bitch they wanted.
I was never one to need to explore, but the thought of not being able to was scary to me.
Plus, I know of niggas with marriages that are not like Crew and Hov’s.
Shid, starting with the niggas shop we are in now.
The tattoo artist, Rico, finished Crew’s neck piece while we all sat around talking about sports and shit. Crew looked in the mirror for approval and then turned to everyone in the shop.
“Alright, so the hit on us the other day, we got any leads on that shit?”
Bam was the first to speak up, licking wing sauce off his finger.
“We been laying low around Troy people, and none of them know anything about them coming after us. My best guess is that the prosecutor somehow found someone else to pull off the hit that came with force. I'm sure Medina pussy ass folded, which means his ass needs to get dealt with.”
Hov spoke up, and Elijah cut in, trying to feel important.
“I don't think that was Medina or that nigga in prison.
There isn't any nigga pulling that much weight from prison with two to three carloads of mutha fuckas getting at us.
Forty thousand dollars can't purchase that.
We have to weigh all of our options because that theory ain't legit in my opinion.”
“What options?” Crew replied
“We all in a rut on this shit because if it wasn’t Troy’s gang, not Marcus Leeland, then who?”
The room went silent for a minute.
“Could be someone from the Quatar family still,” Elijah said, and everyone turned their heads to him, including me.
“How the fuck would that be the case?”
“Well, I know the entire family here got taken out, but I’ve heard from people my whole life about them having family back home in your home country. I mean, we have a direct source here in you, so who is left, Amir?”
Every eye in the room looked at me for an answer, and I was too busy giving this nigga the stare of death because I wanted to kill his punk ass. I see what this nigga is trying to imply.
“I don’t think there is a soul left from the Quatar family that would put together a gang to come after us.
Elijah smirked like he wasn’t buying it, and that was enough to bring out that killer in me.
“My question is, why the fuck are you pointing fingers my way?” I snapped, my chair scraping loudly against the floor as I stood up.
“You got a problem with me nigga? If you do, say it out loud instead of trying to sneak tell some shit.”
His hands raised in the air like he didn’t have a real problem, but I could tell he did. He shifted in his seat, glancing past me for backup.
“Why this nigga have to take it there? We came here to brainstorm, right? Hov? Crew? Am I right?”
He looked to them like a scared kid looking for a teacher. Just like a pussy ass nigga would do.
Hov exhaled slowly, like he was already tired of the bullshit, just like I was.
“Amir. We ain’t solving shit by fighting each other. We all on the same team, and Elijah, it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it. Make sure you not suggesting disloyalty unless you got solid proof of that shit. Now back to us being productive around this bitch.”
I kept my eyes locked on Elijah, letting him feel the pressure. Then I took a slow step back, but I didn’t sit. It was taking everything in me not to lay this punk ass nigga out.
The rest of the conversation, I was listening, but I wasn’t hearing shit but the voices in my head telling me to murk this nigga. I’ve noticed those voices were becoming clearer and clearer to me the more time went on.
When everyone was done talking, I walked out of the back room, and Crew stopped me in the hallway.
“Hey, bruh, I know you feeling like taking that nigga out, but trust me, he's not worth it. I had a gun up to his head before and realized he wasn’t even worth blood on my wrist.”
“Yeah, a lot of niggas not worth it, but some deserve it anyway. Tolerating disrespect is getting harder and harder for me. I honestly don’t know what the fuck is going on in my head, but I been feeling reckless as hell lately, any fuckin way.”
“Shit, it sounds to me like you need a Pernelle in your life.”
“A, Pernelle?” I asked, confused because he couldn’t be talking about his wife.
“Not my P. I’m talking about a woman like her and someone to keep you grounded.
Trust me, I had the same issues years ago.
I didn’t give a fuck, and the saddest part is I didn’t want to until I had a wife and a family.
A true prize to lose. I’m just giving you advice that a wise man once gave me.
” Crew tapped on my shoulder twice before walking ahead of me.
I stopped in the middle of the hallway in deep thought about what he just put on my mind.
I wasn’t in deep thought because I didn’t understand what he meant.
I was in deep thought because I didn’t know who I should settle down with.
Not saying his sister is even an option because her and I were just getting to know each other, but I wanted our situation to be put on the table just in case she's the Pernelle he says I need in the future.
I should've gotten her big brother’s blessing before I even touched her to be honest.
“Hey, Crew, wait up.” I caught up to him just as he passed the front desk.
“Do you think I could be a good man to my spouse?”
“I mean, I think so. We all have good nigga in us, why?”
“Because there is someone I’m interested in and I’m not thinking marriage or no shit now, just wanting to get to know her.”
He adjusted his stance and then crossed his arms.
“Who is she?”
“Jasmine, your sister.”
“Bird’s nest?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his response.
“Yes, bruh, your sister. I honestly think she’s beautiful, but I've been holding off on pursuing her fully because I want your approval before getting at her.”
“Oh, you got my approval, bruh.” He placed his hand on my shoulder.