Ethan Whitmore
“Y’all muthafuckas are really trying to test my gangsta. I’m guessin’ you thought the shit wouldn’t fall back on your ass. What’s crazy is, when shit gets hot, bitches start singing like a canary.”
POW!
“All I want is the truth because I can do this shit all day. I have bullets galore, so that’s not a problem either.”
POW!
I flexed my knuckles, listening to them crack.
I had spent twenty minutes whooping ass, and the men kneeling in front of me, still decided not to part their lips to tell me what I wanted to hear.
I wanted to have a little fun, but now the game is over.
Two bodies lay sprawled out with blood leaking from their heads.
Three more were still breathing, hands and feet tied up while on their knees.
These muthafuckas thought they had one up on me.
The sad part about all this shit was two of the remaining bodies were supposed to be my partners.
People I helped out of poverty. People I trusted and broke bread with for years.
This was the first time somebody in my circle thought they could cross me and get away with the shit.
I didn’t know what those muthafuckas were thinking, but obviously, they had to be the dumbest men walking this Earth.
“So what’s up? I want my shit.”
“EJ…I told you, man…I don’t… know anything.”
Flame was clinging to life. I knew because I could see how he was breathing. There was no question that his jaw was broken. I dislocated that shit with ease; had his mouth hanging and twisted. I didn’t care how much of a struggle it was for him to talk. He put himself in that situation.
I stood quietly, rocking side to side. I actually took a moment to think about the circle of people that I associated with.
I had quite a few loyal muthafuckas who were willing to ride out at any time.
Shit, I only dealt with the realest of the real, or so I thought.
I guess the saying was true; there’s always at least one snake in the grass plotting against you or praying for your downfall.
I never expected to also have a weak ass bitch eating at my table.
That’s one thing I hate most, a weak ass bitch.
I could say that last part in another way, but as a white boy from the hood, I respect the black culture too much to allow myself to do so.
“Baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do. Baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do.”
The sound of my phone ringing bounced off the warehouse walls. Reaching into my pocket, I held one finger up in front of Flame, signaling for him to give me a moment.
“Hey, Princess. Daddy's a little—”
“Daddy! How much longer are you going to be gone? I’m ready to go get ice cream now.”
“Princess, daddy is busy at work right now. As soon as I finish, I’ll be on my way to take you to get ice cream.”
“Daddy, please hurry up! I have been waiting for hours. My stomach is hurtin’, and I need some ice cream.”
My baby girl was something else. I was man enough to admit she had me wrapped tightly around her little finger, but that’s the way it should be.
“Alright, princess. I’ll be there shortly. You better be waiting on the porch ready to go since you rushin me.”
“Okay!” She giggled. “I love you!”
“I love you more, mama.”
It didn't matter what I was doing or where I was. When my princess called, nothing else mattered but her.
“I see we’re gonna have to speed this meeting up.” I said, tucking my phone back in my pocket.
“My princess is waiting for me, and I don’t plan to keep her waiting much longer. So, let me help jog your memory, bruh, because obviously you need a little fire under yo’ ass. Yo, Ace, bring in our special guest.” I instructed one of my lieutenants.
I stood in front of Flame, so we could get a good look at each other.
As soon as he heard the screams and Spanish cries of his lovely momma, his eyes grew wider than a full moon.
His head shook vigorously, but no words came out of his mouth.
I stood with a smirk because, all of a sudden, I could see him breaking down.
I snatched the black sheet off her head, so he could see the scared and frantic expression on his mommy’s face.
“I want my shit.” I pressed my pistol to her temple.
Out of nowhere, the sound of a wet ass fart caused me to break eye contact with Flame to glare at his moms. The stench that invaded my nose further pissed me off because I knew her old ass didn’t do what I thought she did.
“Did you just shit on yourself?”
I took a step back and noticed she was standing in a puddle of her own piss. Her old ass must not have known how important it was to drink plenty of water because the way she smelled was uncalled for.
“Hell yea she just shitted on herself. The fuck!” Ace held his arm over his nose and mouth.
Duke stood to the side with his face twisted up in disgust. “That’s some nasty shit. Literally.”
“I can’t even laugh right now. Nigga, my mouth was open, and I just sucked in all that shit,” Ace disgustedly said. “Woman, what the fuck did you eat today? A pot full of chitterlings? Some old ass enchiladas?”
This fool started gagging, but we both knew that if he threw up in my shit, I would put my foot in his ass.
POW!
Yeah, I’m sorry, but momma Flame had to go.
I didn’t give a damn how scared or nervous she was; that shit was uncalled for.
Got my damn warehouse smelling like sewage.
Flame remained on his knees, bawling his eyes out, weeping in Spanish as he mourned his mother.
The only thing this muthafucka had to do was tell the truth, and she would’ve walked out untouched.
Nah, I’m lying, she was definitely catching a bullet.
Ain’t no way in hell I was going to allow her to walk out those doors because her son damn sure wasn’t.
“Damn, my boy, that’s what you call collateral damage.
It didn’t even have to go down like that.
” I shrugged. “Then again, this is what happens when muthafuckas choose to play in my face. I gave you a chance, allowed you to have a seat at my table, and broke bread with your ass. The first time you set me up, you cleared your name and sold that shit to me real well. I guess you thought your nuts and heart was big enough to test my gangsta a second time, huh? That’s where you messed up, bruh. Play pussy get fucked, bitch.”
POW!
I had to go home to take a quick shower and change my clothes.
If I kept my little momma waiting too much longer, she’d be blowing my phone down nonstop.
I promised her Sweet Frog and a movie. She had been bugging the hell out of me to go see Inside Out 2 since she saw the trailer on TV.
Although I could get my daughter anytime I wanted, it was my weekend to keep her.
Zoie was my everything outside of my momma and Big Momma.
I didn’t play about my leading ladies. The relationship I had with Zoie’s mother, Zenobia, was pretty cordial.
We got along for the most part, and our level of communication stays positive.
Zenobia was like another one of the homies, to be honest.
It only took an hour for me to get myself together and pull up at my Big Momma’s house.
Without knocking, I welcomed myself inside and announced my presence.
I could hear the music playing through her stereo, which was nothing new.
Every time she was throwing down in the kitchen, she’d have music playing.
“Big momma!” I called out for her.
“In the living room!” she called back.
As I turned the corner, I saw Big Momma chillin’ in her recliner while watching Family Feud. She cracked up laughing as Steve Harvey talked his shit. All I could do was shake my head and smile at her.
Big Momma had been in my life since the day I was born.
Back in the day, she used to open her home to foster kids who were being passed around in the system.
My mother was one of those kids. At the age of fifteen, my mom moved in with Big Momma.
It was actually the first home she lived in where she felt safe.
Big Momma wasn’t with the bullshit, and she loved everybody, but the bond she created with my mother was something special.
Within six months of living together, Big Momma knew she wanted to keep my mother around.
Off paper, she adopted her into the family.
Big Momma already had three kids of her own, all boys.
They were older than my mom except one. Duke was about two years old when my mother came along. Everyone referred to her as Big Kat.
Although she was raised in the hood, my mother wasn’t out in the streets like everyone else.
She kept her head in the books and damn near lived at the library.
Her goal was to graduate and go straight to college.
Big Momma used to always tell me stories about how emotional my mother would get when she didn’t pass a test or a class.
In her world, anything less than an A was considered failing.
She was hard on herself at such a young age.
So, imagine her surprise when she found out she was pregnant with me at the age of sixteen.
I couldn’t fault her for considering abortion during that time, but Big Momma wasn’t having that shit.
I grew up in the hood as the only white boy on the block.
I attended schools that were predominantly black and Hispanic.
Despite the environment I was being raised in, my mother made sure I knew how important education was.
For the most part, I respected her views and made sure I stayed on top of my shit just for her.
However, I was fascinated by the streets and making quick money.