18. Darius #2
All I could do was smirk as I listened to his lame ass.
His IQ couldn’t have been higher than a bed bug’s.
Mya really let that clown convince her that it was worth it to risk her life.
I wasn’t sure why she hadn’t let him know that she told me about the robbery.
Mya knew how I moved, and she knew that I usually came to her crib twice a week to get product, and I hadn’t been there in three days.
There was no telling when he took the shit, but she knew she had to go ahead and tell me before I came looking for it, and it wasn’t there.
“I’m like two minutes away from the house.” Mya ignored everything he’d said. I could tell by her tone she was disgusted with the nigga, and that’s what her dumb ass got.
“Okay.”
The moment she ended the call, I tossed her a murderous glare. “That’s the nigga you risked your life for? You’s about a dumb ass broad.”
Mya stared down at her lap, but she didn’t respond.
It wasn’t like I expected her to because there wasn’t anything she could say.
Mario didn’t care about her, and I gathered that from one phone call.
When the day came that Mya got a man, I just knew it would be a lawyer, stockbroker, accountant, or something.
Despite her dealing with me, I assumed that the straight and narrow type of man was more her type.
Had I known Mario was the kind of clown she entertained, my coke would have never touched her attic.
That shit was on me. I had made a poor judgment call like a muhfucka.
When I arrived at Mario’s house, I checked my phone and saw that Azarius had responded to my text message.
He was three minutes away. Looking around, I peeped that bushes and trees pretty much obscured my view from Mario’s neighbor on the left, and he didn’t have one on the right because his house was located at the end of the street.
There was an older model Tahoe parked in the yard beside a Charger that I could see was a rental car.
I scoffed because no way was Mario used to having bread. No wonder he was in Mya’s pockets.
“Get the fuck out,” I demanded as I clutched the gun in my hand. It didn’t matter if Mario could see me approaching the house with her or not. I was getting up in there one way or another.
Mya stepped in front of me and attempted to put a key in the lock, but her hands were shaking so badly that she kept missing the hole. “Don’t piss me the fuck off,” I gritted and like magic, her hand steadied, and she was able to open the door.
When she entered the house, Mario barely looked up from the game he was playing. As I stepped in behind her, he inadvertently glanced our way, then he did a wide-eyed double take.
“Fuck is this?” he hopped up and released the controller sending it crashing onto the floor. His eyes darted down to the gun in my hand, and he looked back up at Mya with a stunned expression.
“I’m the nigga who should be lucky you didn’t do something to me,” I smirked. “Where the fuck is my shit? I don’t have all night to play with you, and I damn sure don’t have the patience. Run me my mother fucking dope.”
“Bro what is this?” he spoke to Mya while ignoring me. “You really gave me up when this was your idea? Bro,” his gaze landed on me. “I swear to God, she came at me with the idea. I didn’t know you had dope in her house. I promise I didn’t. She told me you were on and wouldn’t miss it.”
The way he threw his baby mama under the bus made me smile. This nigga was truly a lame. I couldn’t believe him or Mya, but to see him blaming everything on her while she was supposedly carrying his child was bananas.
I walked over to Mario and hit him in the face with the butt of my gun. He let out a deep groan as blood spurted from his nose. “I asked for my dope. Not a weak ass explanation.”
“What I have left is in the bedroom.” Mario’s voice was muffled because he was holding his nose.
I shoved him indicating that I wanted him to take me to the bedroom. Glancing over my shoulder, I made eye contact with Mya. “Bring your ass because if you try some dumb shit, I’m gon’ call my lady to beat your ass then, I’m gon’ kill you for being a stupid ass bitch.”
I wasn’t about to let her walk behind me, so I paused until she passed me.
With my gun trained on both of them, I followed them into the bedroom.
My lip curled when I entered the room and saw countless bags filled with clothes and shoes.
This nigga obviously got rid of some of the bricks and blew the money at the mall and on basic ass rental cars.
I wanted to pistol whip that nigga until he blacked out, but I had something better in mind.
Letting Mya and Mario live would be much worse than killing them because I was going to make sure they forever remembered the day they decided to take what didn’t belong to them.
I watched Mario closely as he got down on the floor and reached underneath the bed.
If he tried anything stupid, his brains were going to be all over the floor.
I heard a whistle from the front room, and I knew that Azarius had arrived.
Mario looked over his shoulder nervously, and I pointed the gun directly in his face.
Azarius walked into the room, and Mario snatched a bag from under the bed and slid it across the floor.
“That’s all I have left. One and a half bricks.”
“One and a half out of five?” I chuckled angrily. “Where the money at?”
Mario stood up eyeing me like a deer caught in headlights.
I could look around the room, in the driveway, and remember his conversation with Mya and know where the money went.
On dumb shit. He risked his life to get fresh.
He wasn’t even stacking the money to get more work.
A nigga came up on five bricks and did absolutely nothing with it.
He was the dumbest nigga I’d ever come across.
“Go back to the front,” I scowled. If I kept looking at Mario, I was going forget all about my plan to not kill him.
Mario and Mya trekked down the hallway with me and Azarius on their heels.
Back in the living room, I eyed the bag that was on the couch that hadn’t been there before.
It had to be the bag that Azarius brought in.
He went into the kitchen, and I heard him in the cabinets pulling out pots and shit.
Mario and Mya’s orbs darted toward the sound, and I was sure they were trying to figure out what Azarius was doing.
Still holding onto the gun, I unzipped the bag with one hand and pulled out the bondage tape.
I wanted something that would hold long enough for me to get away from the house, but if Mario was any kind of man, he’d eventually be able to work his way out of it.
Not worried about him trying anything, I placed the gun on the back of the couch, and pulled Mario’s arms behind his back.
“You don’t have to do this, man. I promise. I’ll get the money back for you. Just please let me and Mya go. She’s pregnant.”
His comment got a snort out of me. “You didn’t care about her being pregnant when you just blamed the whole thing on her,” I sucked my teeth in disgust. Mya had played the hell out of herself.
“Darius, please!” His voice slightly louder and deeper as he resisted a bit, and that pissed me off.
I punched him in the back of the head and watched his upper body fall forward. “Don’t call my name, nigga.”
I secured the tape around his wrists and stood by the door.
I was just waiting for Azarius to be done in the kitchen.
After about six minutes, Azarius came back into the living room with a medium-sized pot of scalding hot water in his hands.
I couldn’t tell whose eyes were the widest between Mya and Mario.
Mario was about to try and jump up off the couch when Azarius tossed the water in his face.
He fell back onto the couch howling like a wounded animal.
His screams were filled with anguish, and that brought a smile to my face.
He had better be glad that he was still alive.
For the rest of his life he would walk around with a severely scarred and burned face, but at least he would be living.
And every time he looked in the mirror, he would think about me.
“Let’s go,” I glared at Mya while Mario writhed around on the couch like a centipede.
She jumped at the sound of my voice. I held the bag in my hand that contained what was left of my coke and followed her out the door.
Inside the car, she covered her face with her hands and cried.
I absolutely gave no fucks. Again, just like Mario, she had better be thankful that she was alive.
Aside from the radio and her sobbing, the car ride back to her house was quiet.
As I turned onto her street, the sight of fire trucks and police cars piqued her interest. Mya sat up straight and stared out of the window.
The closer we got, and she realized that it was her house that had caught fire, her mouth fell open.
She looked at me with eyes full of anger.
In return, I smirked. “When you get the insurance money, I want my shit. Get the fuck out.”
Mya stumbled out of the vehicle, and I wish I could have seen the look on her face when she realized my people had gone into her garage and taken her Maybach. Silly bitch.