Beginning #3
The one in the middle whose nose I broke, he pulled a gun out and pressed it directly to my temple and held it there.
Nobody said nothing for a second.
I didn’t move. Didn’t try nothing else. The barrel was cold against the side of my head and the man holding it wasn’t shaking and wasn’t hyped up either.
He wasn’t doing none of the things that people did when they were performing, putting on a front or playing tough.
He held a cold gaze from what I’d just done to him, but in my defense, they came fucking with me.
He was just standing there bleeding heavily but acted as if it happened everyday.
He wiped his nose with his shirt while keeping his gun trained on me with the other hand.
He was calm, still and focused. That calmness told me more about who sent them than anything else could have.
“Tavarus wants his money,” he said.
I didn’t respond right away. My jaw was already throbbing from that first punch and I could taste blood starting to pool from where my lip had split against my teeth. The two on the sides of me had grabbed my arms again.
“I’m moving on it,” I said, with a scowl on my face as I spit on the ground beside him.
The one in the middle looked at me for a second and then nodded at the one on my left.
I guess that was his cue, so the nigga drove a punch into my ribs so hard that the air left my body all at once and I couldn’t do nothing but take it.
He hit me again in the same spot before I could pull a breath back in and my knees wanted to buckle but the one beside me was still holding me up.
“Tavarus know you moving,” the bloody nigga with the gun said, same flat tone, like nothing that just happened was worth changing his voice over. “He need to know when you finishing because your timeline and his ain’t matching up right now.”
I got my breath back and straightened up as much as I could with somebody still gripping both my arms. These niggas knew without that gun, they couldn’t fuck with me and that made me want to try my luck and dive on they asses again.
My ribs were already screaming and I wasn’t the nigga that people typically played these games with.
“Seven days,” he continued. “Thirty thousand dollars cash. That’s what he’s giving you.
No bitch ass excuses. Just have the bread!
” He pressed the gun hard against my temple just for a second then pulled it back.
“Day eight, if you short he ain’t sending us back. You understand what I’m telling you?”
“I understand.”
“Say the number back to me.”
I looked him dead in his eyes. “Thirty thousand. Seven days.”
He studied my face long enough to decide I was hearing him all the way. Then he stepped back and nodded at the other two and they released me and just like that all three of them were gone around the corner and into the night like they had never been there.
I stayed against that brick wall and didn’t move for a full minute.
My ribs were on fire, my lip was leaking, and the side of my face was still warm from where that first punch had landed.
I ran my tongue across the inside of my mouth and spit blood onto the ground in front of me and just stood there in that alley letting everything get still.
These niggas may have had the upper hand, but they all left here knowing that I wasn’t no fuckin hoe.
I made a mental note to find out who those niggas were and catch them niggas individually when all this shit blew over.
Today I had been in two scuffles and that shit was unheard of. What the fuck was going on today?
Thirty thousand dollars. Seven days.
Or I wasn’t gonna see day eight. I knew Tavarus, and I knew that now, I really had to get on my grind.
—
I had seven days to make sure that point never got crossed.
I pulled out my phone and immediately called Gutta. He picked up on the second ring.
“I need you to set something up,” I said without wasting time.
“What kind of something?” Gutta asked in a tone that let me know he was concerned.
“A fight. I need the biggest bag you can find in the next week. Twenty Five to thirty thousand minimum.” I announced.
I knew that right now, the only other way that I could get that kind of money this fast, it had to be a cage fight.
I was willing to take less than I needed, because I had a few grand saved up.
He went quiet for a second. “How bad is it my nigga? This shit sounds serious. You know a fight like that, one that pays like that and is this short of a timeframe, it’s gone come with some shit behind it.”
“Set up the fight Gutta.”
“Street—”
“Aye! Now ain’t the time for no lecturing. If you value yo job nigga… Set up the fight. I’ll break it all the way down when I see you.”
I hung up, went inside and stood in my apartment in the dark without turning a light on.
I just stood there and let the weight of everything sit on me fully for the first time since them hoe ass niggas just pulled me in the alley.
Thirty thousand dollars in seven muthafuckin’ days.
Melo and Mazi three hours away walking around a college campus with their whole lives in front of them not knowing none of this was as solid as it looked from where they were standing.
My mom’s at home probably still up sitting in that recliner the way she sat every night until she knew her boys were home and accounted for.
None of them could know about this. Not the details. Not the real weight of it. Not what I had been doing as a man to keep my family straight. I’d been helping my moms since I was thirteen. That would never change.
I sat on the edge of my bed and stayed there for a while.
Tavarus could have sent a better message than this.
I ain’t know what the fuck old ass niggas was on tryna prove dominance or some shit, but that wasn’t gone fly with me.
He was gone get his money, but he was gone know that what he did was out of line too.
Years of working with this nigga and I was never short.
The one time I was late, he went to the extreme and I wasn’t feeling this shit.
I got up and started figuring out my next move because that was the only thing sitting down ever got me — a few minutes off my feet before I had to stand back up and deal with whatever was in front of me.
Gutta hit me back two days later while I was in the middle of making moves, gathering bread for Tavarus and trying to stack whatever extra I could in the meantime. He called and said one name.
Champ.
Champ was the most feared nigga in gloves.
Thirty two fights. Zero losses. Twenty nine knockouts.
The most recognized name in the underground circuit and a man who had never once been put on the ground.
The fight would pay forty thousand to whoever was left standing and it was set for four days out which meant if I won I would be walking into Tavarus with his money one day early, before his deadline ran out.
One day.
“Set that shit up! I need that bread.”
“You sure about this?” Gutta asked.
“Set it up.”
“I set it up already. I’m asking if you sure. Ain’t no turning back or backing out once we agree or the fine will be bigger than the damn fight.”
“Get off my line Gutta. When the fuck you’ve ever known me to back out or back down from any nigga? That shit dead! My life is literally on the line. I don’t give a fuck who the fight with, put me in front of that nigga and watch I fold his ass.”
He didn’t answer that because we both already knew the answer.
I’d never ran from a fight in my life. In the streets or the cage.
He had put the fight together before he even asked me because that’s who he was — he already knew what I was gonna say so he went ahead and moved.
He just wanted to hear me agree when he confirmed it.
That was Gutta. He didn’t do nothing halfway and he didn’t let me walk into nothing without making sure I was walking in clear.
—
Those next four days I locked in like I had never locked in before in my life.
Running every morning, bag work every evening, going through everything Gutta could dig up on the way Champ moved and fought, down to the way he broke people down.
Gutta was with me every session pushing me and studying Champ’s patterns with me .
He was breaking down what he saw in a way that reminded me how seriously he took this corner man role even on the days I didn’t give him enough credit for it.
He knew fighting. He had taught himself from scratch because he decided that’s what he was gonna do and Gutta didn’t decide to do things halfway.
That nigga was all in when it came to me, and vice versa.
He also never pressured me on the details of what I owed and to who.
But this time, I had to let him in. The shit those niggas pulled by popping up at my crib, he had Gutta heated.
He wanted to kill Tavarus, and I had to talk him down.
Now wasn’t the time to get our hands dirty.
It was too much on the line right now. He was my brother from another and anytime I felt disrespected, he wanted to immediately handle it.
He kept saying that he’d let it go for now, but he was gone make Tavarus feel him.
That was the thing about Gutta that most people who didn’t know him wouldn’t understand.
For as hard as he was, for as gangsta he was, and for as much as he moved in the street; behind all that, he handled things in ways that always had my best interest and safety at heart.
He was the most solid person I had ever had in my corner. Not just in a cage. In life.
Finally, it was time for me to make some shit shake and get myself out of debt. The night of the fight I stood in that basement with my eyes closed and got quiet inside myself.
—