Chapter 25 #3
I made a call to Nina. Her mansion was like fucking Switzerland. She didn’t tolerate any outside beef whatsoever. Out of respect for her and the business relationship Kross wished to maintain, we decided to give her the heads up.
“Another annual meet you’ve missed, Mr. Hendrix. You looking to return as one of my distros?” She didn’t bother with any greetings. Every conversation we had was like that. Shorty was about her business and was always scoping for an opportunity to make some paper.
“I told you already, Nina, I’m out of the arms game. I’m onto some different shit.” I chuckled at her persistence.
“I’ve heard. Congratulations on your new business venture. You must be in need of something exclusive if you’re calling.”
“Actually… you got a target in your mansion right now. I’m just giving you the courtesy call.”
“Send him out, Nina. We gone give you the respect of not lighting shit up at the crib,” Kross piped in, making his presence know.
She let out a shocked scoff, clearly not expecting us to be riding with each other. Kross and I were one and the same. We believed not everything needed to be publicized, so I knew for a fact that us linking would shock the fuck out of anybody.
“Whoever this target is may need to stay on my radar if they have enough power to bring the north and south together behind them. Hunter, you expanding to New York, or will it be Hendrix expanding to Miami?” We piqued her interest, and I knew her fucking brain was churning with a million and one ways she could make some paper off us.
“Neither. Ahk got up north, and I got down south. The problem is, this motherfucka’ think he can try to bust both of our heads and make money in our cities without tapping in. You’re a businesswoman, Nina. You know that shit can’t fly.”
“It’s either you send him out or we coming in,” I warned her as we stopped our cars right at the gate of her mansion.
“You know I can’t have that. You also know I can’t have any bloodshed within ten miles of this place.”
“Make it easy for yourself, Nina. Send Silas out.”
“Silas,” she chuckled. “You want my new New York distro. Why should I make it so easy for you? You getting at him means less money for me.”
“It’s always been less money for you, as soon as you chose Silas’ bitch ass to replace me as your New York distro,” I scoffed.
“He got five minutes to be out before we come in,” Kross warned her.
She was a boss in her field, so being put on a time limit didn’t sit well with her. “And you don’t think I can have red beams all over you and your crew?”
“I’m worth too much to you. You not stupid,” he countered.
“Plus, my operation up north is a big bag you been waiting to sink your teeth into.”
She wasn’t giving us pushback because she fucked with Silas heavy. The greedy bitch just wanted to know what was in it for her. I respected her hustle, though. She never changed or sugar-coated shit.
“He’ll be out shortly. Do whatever the fuck you want to him far from my fucking mansion. Ahkeem, I expect to hear from you soon now that you’re returning as my New York distro.”
“We’ll be in touch,” I assured her before banging the line on her.
We pulled a few blocks down and cut our lights off. Moments later, Silas and a few niggas from his camp were being escorted out of Nina’s mansion by her security.
“You motherfuckas got me fucked up!” he snarled as he was pushed out of the gates with his people. He didn’t bother to leave quietly, which was partially understandable since they were being kicked out without any explanation.
Seeing him just made my fucking blood boil.
He was an ugly motherfucka’ with only a face his bitch-ass mama, Ms. Nancy, could love.
Word on the street was he survived a house fire when he was little, but it disfigured part of his face.
He had a couple skin grafts in place, but the discoloration and damage were still clear.
He did a lot of hiding, so I never really crossed paths with him in person.
The most I saw him was in those whack-ass family pictures that were put up in his little brother Anthony’s room.
His gene pool was shitty as fuck, so honestly, the burns gave him a reason to look the way he did, aside from the fact that he was just born ugly as fuck.
He had a big-ass set of veneers in his mouth that I couldn’t wait to knock out.
“Freddy Kreuger looking-ass nigga,” I sneered, earning some laughter out of everybody in the car.
Getting kicked out behind him was none other than Roc.
Little did Silas know, that pussy-ass nigga Roc was the reason we knew that he was even in Miami.
One thing I could say was that Silas moved very discreetly.
He came and went without many people knowing.
By the time he threw a shot in my direction, that pussy-ass nigga was already on to the next city, which made it so fucking difficult to get my hands on him.
There was no more ducking and hiding. We were in the same city, and I was ready to knock that motherfucka’ off.
“Say, I got a car lot in New York. I can get you a new whip in a couple days. How much you give a fuck about this car?” I asked Kross as I kept my eyes glued on Silas as he continued to go back and forth with security.
“Shit, as long as you can get me a new one, I’m on whatever you on.”
“Bet. Let Jersey drive.”
“Nigga, what? He don’t know these streets like we do.” Noonie shot me a crazed look from the back seat.
“Don’t nobody want this motherfucka’s head like I do. This nigga had motherfuckas shoot at my wife and son. I trust Jersey to stick and move like I need him to.”
Kross took a moment to deliberate. Then he came to terms with the fact that he had nothing to lose. I would make good on my promise of getting him a new car.
They were five niggas deep in two separate cars. We watched from afar as valet pulled their cars around and handed them their keys. Silas got behind the wheel of a candy apple red Lambo truck, while Roc got into an all-black Benz truck.
“If this nigga don’t move how he supposed to, this shit on you.” Kross shook his head as he swapped seats with Jersey. Jersey was my right hand. There wasn’t anybody I trusted behind the wheel more than him. I needed that motherfucka’ Silas’ head, and Jersey was gonna make sure I fucking got it.
Since we made a deal with Nina, we didn’t spray those niggas down as soon as they pulled away from the mansion. We kept a good distance from them to ensure they didn’t peep we were following them. Ezekiel kept behind Jersey as we merged onto the interstate.
“Yo, Zeke, keep behind the black Benz. We about to get on the side of the Lambo,” I instructed him just as Jersey picked up speed.
“Bet.”
With it being the wee hours of the morning, the traffic on the interstate was scarce. I cocked my gun back right when Jersey pulled up on the side of Silas’ Lambo.
“Let that motherfucka’ rain on ’em, Ahk. We right behind you,” Kross asserted as he leaned up in the back seat.
I dropped the window and aimed my gun right at the Lamb.
I pulled my trigger twice, shattering his dark tinted window.
Caught off guard, Silas swerved into the right lane.
Jersey followed swiftly, swerving right with him so I could get closer.
Once he got his fucking footing and realized I was on his ass like a bat out of hell, he stomped on his gas and floored that motherfucka’.
His Lambo’s engine roared through our ears, alerting Roc, who was right behind him.
“This bitch running!” I yelled as Jersey floored the gas. I leaned out of the window before squeezing my trigger. Glass continued raining inside his Lambo truck as I busted each and every window out that motherfucka’.
The Benz that was being whipped by Roc with two other niggas riding with him quickly came alive.
Roc swerved lane to lane as the shooters he had with him had their arms extended out of the window, busting at Kross’ G-Wagon.
Bullets lit up the back end of our whip, prompting Kross and Noonie to have my follow up.
They hung out the back windows, letting bullets spray from their guns.
Jersey hit 120 on the dash as we continued to race behind Silas.
The homie he had in his passenger seat popped out the panoramic sunroof, which was the dumbest shit he could have ever done.
I locked in on him, sending a swift bullet right into his chest, and he toppled over the back of the car.
His blood oozed down the candy red exterior of the car as the top half of his body remained hanging out of the sunroof.
“Good fucking hit, Ahk!” Noonie hyped me up.
Silas was the last man breathing in that Lambo.
I had to give it to that burnt face motherfucka’.
He wasn’t going out without a fight. In the side mirror, I could see Diamond hanging out of the window of Zeke’s whip with her laser fucking focus.
Shorty was a real shooter, so as soon as she pulled that trigger, the back window of Roc’s Benz shattered.
Exposed to the bullets flying, Roc jerked the wheel crazily, swerving from lane to lane.
Moe and Javi followed up right behind Diamond and rained down on them.
Roc managed to find his footing and straightened out his driving. His engine roared behind us, and Ezekiel remained steady behind him.
From behind the wheel of the Lambo, Silas waved his gun, aiming sloppily. The nigga was desperate, and the only thing saving his bitch ass was the horsepower on his fucking Lambo truck. Jersey was doing what he could, but the engine of Kross’ G-Wagon just couldn’t keep up.
Kross ducked back into the car, reloading his gun before calling up Zeek. “Fuck all that playing nice! Wreck the fucking car, Zeke!” he ordered his little brother.
“I got you!”
Moments later, Zeek rammed his car right into the bumper of Roc’s Benz truck.
The rear tires lost traction, and the truck fishtailed crazily on the interstate.
Javi, Moe, and Diamond ain’t let up as they continued spraying at the whip.
I knew once the Benz hit the side railing of the interstate that we had successfully knocked off Roc and the niggas who were with him.
The impact of the collision was so hard that the car instantly burst into flames as the front half hung off the bridge.
I ducked back into the car and reloaded my clip that I had just emptied on Silas’ Lambo.
He was still pushing that motherfucka’, and Jersey was flooring the gas to keep up right behind him.
As Jersey whipped the car, I hung out the window, firing shots.
I managed to blow one of Silas’ back tires.
He pulled a fast one and jerked his whip toward the first exit he came up on.
At the speed Jersey was going, it was fucking impossible to whip the G-Wagon to the same exit without totaling the whip and wiping us out.
I heard the loud collision of Silas’s whip crashing against the guard rail of the exit as we passed him by.
“Fuck!” I banged my fist against the dashboard of the car. Nothing would have brought me more satisfaction than sending a bullet right between his eyes. His car wiping out on the interstate didn’t serve me shit.
“This shit too hot! Take the next exit then follow Zeke!” Kross instructed from the back.
Jersey did as told, and we followed Zeke, who ducked in and out of the back streets of the city. “That nigga dead, fam. He wiped out on that exit.” Noonie squeezed my shoulder.
“The nigga ain’t fucking dead until I see it with my own two eyes.”
“I’ll have my people look into it. Right now, we need to ditch these whips and lay low,” Kross said. He was right. The last thing I needed was to get jammed up in Miami. I was just gonna have to find out if that fucked-up faced, bucked toothed motherfucka’ was dead later.