6. Uzi Reaves #2
The thirty minutes that were left flew by.
You would have thought that I had these girls in a boot camp training class with me, that I loved to do.
I worked out hard, and I didn’t give them an exercise that was even half of what I would typically do.
You had girls that were leaned over, throwing up, some were lying on their backs, as I stood to the front, talking to them, just debriefing today’s class, and letting them know what I expected from them in our next class.
Once I dismissed them, they all started piling out, headed back inside.
Riot was the only one that didn’t get up to leave.
She was lying on her back, with her arm draped across her forehead, as her chest rapidly heaved up and down.
This girl could shoot a gun, do all the gun drills that I needed them to do, but when it came to working out, or any kind of physical activity that we would do, that wasn’t her strong point.
Notably, she came late, and only did 30 minutes of the work out, but by the way she was carrying on, you would have thought that she was on time like everyone else, and had gotten the full hour and a half work out in.
“You worked out for thirty minutes. Why you breathing like you about to fuckin pass out?” I asked, squatting, so that I could be leveled with her. There wasn’t a drop of sweat on her body. Just breathing hard and barely did shit.
“Because that’s what the fuck it feels like. Let me know in advance when you having another conditioning class, so that I can stay the fuck home. I feel like I’m about to fuckin die,” she said, rolling over, so that she could lay on her stomach.
“I told ya’ll in the beginning that it wouldn’t just be gun training.
You knew that it would be physical training too.
You need to sit up. Laying down going to have you catching a cramp,” I let her know, and like she didn’t even hear me, she continued laying down on her stomach.
Her breathing wasn’t as hard anymore, but you could tell that she was still out of it.
She eventually rolled back over on her back, and then she sat up. She extended her legs out in front of her, while placing the palms of her hands behind her.
“I’m going to post the flyer in the chat, but to celebrate the month of the class, I’m planning like a bowling event for all the girls. It’s going to be next weekend,” I shared with her, and when I said it, she groaned, keeping her eyes on me, and tilting her head to the side.
“Uzi, it’s been over a month, and I don’t talk to none of these girls.
I’m probably not going to come. Don’t take it as me acting funny, either.
I really appreciate you for working with us, giving us structure, and the knowledge that you’ve poured into us about gun safety.
I already knew the basics when I got here, but you educated me more, and I’m thankful for that.
I don’t do the social events though. I’m not a social person. You know that,” she said to me.
“You don’t put yourself in positions to be social. You’re standoffish, so the girls here are probably scared to even approach you,” I said, knowing that that was the reason because I used to be the same way.
Hell, technically, I was still the same way, but I’ve gotten a little better over the years.
Having kids will pull you out of your shell.
My kids were involved in all kinds of sports, and it was mainly Zuri and Oakley that were always getting on me, telling me to be nice, and friendly to the other sports moms.
“I hear you. I probably still won’t come though,” she said, and then she stood up from the grass, and I did the same.
“How was Mexico?” I asked, changing the subject as the two of us were walking back inside the warehouse.
“It was good. That was my first time out of the country. First time on a plane too. You been before?” she asked me, and I laughed.
“Plenty of times. My mom was from Mexico, so I spent a lot of time in Mexico, especially in the summer. Mexico is beautiful. My grandmother still lives there, so I take my kids every spring, and summer break, so that we can visit the family that I have out here,” I told her, and she nodded to that.
We walked back inside of the warehouse, and out through the foyer that led to the front door.
Benelli was still here, talking amongst some of the staff members.
I looked out, seeing a black G63 pulled up in the front.
I knew that truck belonged to Dolo. I could tell by the big rims that sat up on it.
It’s like he had a magnet on Riot because the second we made it out here, he got out of the car, and he walked over to us.
He went for Riot, pulling her to him, while he looked at me.
“Fuck you had them doing today?” he asked me, talking shit to me like his ass always did.
“Drills nigga. Conditioning. Why was she late?” I asked him, since I knew that he was the one that was responsible for bringing her here. When I asked him that, he chuckled, and with his free hand, he hugged me and then pulled away.
“Her ass wouldn’t get up. Damn Uzi. I sent her in there clean, and she came back looking like she just fought in a war. She gotta get dirty like this to bust a gun?” he asked me, eyes on Riot, deeply concerned why her appearance had changed in the thirty minutes that she’s been here.
“We didn’t shoot today, Dolo. We conditioned,” I let him know.
“And everybody do the same kind of conditioning? She don’t need to be doing nothing where she going to be losing weight. Make her lift or something. Put more weight on her,” he said it with a smile on his face, as he looked at Riot. This man was in love, and he couldn’t even hide it.
Riot pushed at his chest, removing herself from his grasp, and she looked towards me, telling me that she would see me Friday.
Once she was gone, getting inside Dolo’s truck, it just left the two of us. Dolo stood in front of me, with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me.
“I need your advice on some shit. I told this story to your husband too, getting his input, and he’s not feeling where I’m coming from. I want to hear your stance on it. You know Mook, right?” he asked me.
“Yeah. Your friend,” I said, looking up at him, following him, waiting to see where he was going with this.
“That nigga not my friend anymore. I found out that he was taking product and getting high off it. Long story that I don’t really want to get into because every time I tell it, I get mad all over again, and I start questioning if I should just go ahead and kill that nigga.
After finding out that he had been stealing from me, I decided to just let him go.
Cut him out of the business, he’s no longer a member of MBM, none of that shit.
Everybody around me feels like I should have killed him.
You don’t feel like the loss of being cut from the business going to hurt him more than death?
What you think?” Dolo asked me. I thought about his question for a few seconds, just trying to see which approach I wanted to take with him.
“And you didn’t kill him because you felt like he wasn’t a threat?” I asked just to verify.
“Basically,” he said, and I nodded.
“If you going to keep him alive, keep him alive for a reason that’s far bigger than you feeling like he’s not a threat.
When you say shit like that, you underestimate the person that is now your enemy.
I took four shots to the chest on my 27th birthday by a nigga that I underestimated and didn’t feel like he had the balls to try and kill me.
Are you keeping him alive solely because of the love that you still have for him, or because you feel like he didn’t take that much product from you?
If he was any other nigga that was working for you, you would have killed him, so you gotta be keeping him alive because of the history,” I went on.
“I’ve killed plenty of niggas in my lifetime Uzi. Went on and did it without any kind of remorse. I can’t pull that trigger on him,” he said, and I looked around, just to make sure that it was just the two of us, and that no one was in earshot to hear what I was saying to him.
I stepped a little closer, just needing him to feel me.
“But if the shoe was on the other foot, do you think a nigga would have spared you? Dolo, the first chance that nigga gets, he’s going to try and mutilate your ass!
You removed him from the table. He’s down on his dick, and he’s snorting coke.
That combo is dangerous. Coke in your system makes a person become completely out of their body.
You know this. You pushing that shit out on the street, so you know what it can do to someone.
I don’t want to sound like everybody else, but you going to have to put him down.
If you can’t do it, then get somebody else to do it,” I said.
With a suck of his teeth, he ran his hand down his face, and you saw it in his eyes that it wasn’t the answer from me that he wanted.
“What did Loco say to you?” I asked.
“What you think? Cursed me out, called me stupid, and a bunch of other shit before he hung the phone up on me,” he said, and I laughed because that sounded just like my husband.
When Loco was running the streets, he didn’t spare nobody!
He would have killed Mook the second he found out that he was stealing supply and getting high off it.
By no means did I think that Dolo was soft, and that he wasn’t a menace like Loco used to be, but I think that Dolo was using his heart right now to guide him.
His emotions were taking over. He couldn’t see himself killing a man that was at one point like a brother to him.
“Riot knows? What’s her take on it?” I just wanted to hear what everybody was saying to him.
“Riot hate that nigga. From the moment I brought her around him, she didn’t like him.
Crazy thing is, she was the one that brought up the inconsistencies in the dope to me.
She catch shit that might slip through the cracks, so she’s somebody important to have on my team.
She thinks I should kill that nigga though.
She got on me last night about it,” he shared.
“If everybody telling you what you need to do with him, then Dominique, you have your answer,” I responded, and he just nodded.
It wasn’t an easy decision. I saw it in his eyes that the decision was going to be tough for him, but he had to do it.
He eventually came, and he stood right next to me. His hands were still in his pockets, and we both looked ahead of us. His car is what was in front of us, but the tents were so dark, so you couldn’t even see inside.
“What you about to get into?” I wanted to know.
“Take her back to my crib right quick, so she can change and shit. She going to the doctor at noon, so I gotta take her,” he said.
“Get her a car, Dominique,” I voiced, and when I said it, he laughed.
“Uzi, she can’t drive, and she don’t want to learn. I don’t drive her around everywhere she goes though. Uzi, her ass don’t go nowhere for real. She either here, or she working. She put up, and don’t like coming outside,” he responded.
“I can tell. I told her that I was going to do a bowling event next weekend for all the girls, and she told me that she wasn’t going to come,” I told him, and when I said that, he laughed.
“Man, I could have told you that she was going to say that shit. Riot got a lot of cousins, and aunties, and shit. Her mama and her aunties be outside. Cousins too. They all club together, but she don’t ever go.
I’ve heard it from everyone that she’s always been like that.
They say that jail made it worse though.
She genuinely doesn’t like being around a lot of people.
So many times in Mexico I could see it all in her face that she had gotten a little uncomfortable a few times.
Ima make her ass go to that bowling event though.
She told you no. I bet you she won’t say that shit to me,” he went on, and I laughed at this nigga trying to sound like he was running shit.
“So, you running shit, Dominique?” I cracked, and he laughed, followed by him beating on his chest.
“Uzi, I’m running shit! That tough girl shit that she be on with everybody else, I don’t get that all the time. She soft with me. I’m running shit over there,” he boasted.
I let him have his moment, without clowning him because I just loved to hear him sounding like he was in love.
The two of them were adorable as hell together.
They balanced each other out. With the life that they were living, and the things that they were into, I knew that it wasn’t going to always be easy for them, but I truly wanted them to stick it out, and make it work.