Girls From da Hood 7 Read online

  “Yeah, a’ight.” Dino looked around the parking lot for a place to take a piss. He rolled his window down. He then leaned his head out of the window and looked behind them. “I gotta take a leak,” he said, shaking his right leg. “Roll me to that Dumpster back there.” He pointed to the Dumpster behind them.

  Q-tip looked behind his truck. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed the cashier holding his change out of the window. He turned around and got his change while looking in his rearview mirror for a spot for Dino to use the bathroom. “Man, just wait ’til we get to yo’ crib,” he told him.

  “For real, dawg, I gotta drain the dragon.” Dino grabbed his dick through his pants. “I gotta go, now!”

  “This here is a one-way drive-thru and it’s skinny as fuck. I damn near took off that side mirror over there on that damn wall.” Q-tip pointed to the passenger’s side mirror. He then pointed at the wall that he had narrowly missed. He looked ahead of him and then behind him. “I can either pull up there and park and you go handle yo’ business or I can ...” He looked over the steering wheel and at the ground, at a white arrow pointing north. “Or, you can get out here and I circle back around and pick you up.”

  “Circle back around?” Dino said. He looked at the girl in the window who was trying to get Q-tip’s attention by waving with the Taco Bell bag. “Get the food.”

  Q-tip turned to the window and snatched the bag from the cashier.

  “Just back up,” Dino told him.

  “I can’t back up. It’s a Lexus truck that just pulled up in back of us,” Q-tip said, growing irritated.

  They both looked behind them at the truck. The windows were tinted so dark that at night, even if the truck was sitting under a light, no one could see the faces of the people inside. All Q-tip and Dino could see were dark shadows.

  “Candy, they keep looking back at us.” Truth hunched down in his seat. “You think they can see us?”

  “Naw.” Candy smiled. “These fiberglass windows are darker than a tent. They make the car look pitch black inside, even if a nigga looking in through the front window. Them dumb niggas can’t see shit, even if they tried.”

  “Look, Dino getting outta the truck.” From the back seat, Real pointed to Dino.

  “Just park up there. I’ll be right back.” Dino closed the door and walked toward the back of the Jeep. As he was passing by Candy’s truck, he strained his eyes to look inside of the passenger window, but all he could see was his reflection.

  Dino walked to the Dumpster and looked around. He was making sure that no one could see him. Believing that the coast was clear, he walked behind the Dumpster and unzipped his pants.

  Truth watched Dino’s every move through his passenger’s side mirror. He opened his door after seeing Dino walk behind the Dumpster. “I’m ’bout to get his ass.” He smiled.

  “Hold on, Truth.” Candy grabbed him by an arm. She watched as Q-tip pulled up into a parking space ahead of them. “You hyped right now, and I understand, but calm down and take yo’ time. Here, take my nine.” She pulled her TEC-9 from her waist and handed it to Truth. “Real gonna go wit’ you.”

  Real got out of the truck and quietly closed the door.

  “When y’all done, just stay there. I’ma have to circle around and pick y’all up,” Candy told them.

  Truth slid out of the truck. He and Real crept to the Dumpster to surprise Dino.

  Truth walked up behind Dino as he was zipping up his pants. “Can I get a quarter?” he asked, sounding like an old man.

  Dino never turned around. “You can’t have shit, now scram!”

  Truth bumped Real with his elbow and winked. “Please, mister. I’ll even hold yo’ dick while you take a piss.”

  “Bum? Are you outta yo’ fuckin’ ...” Dino spun around and stared down the one eye that would take his life: the TEC-9. He cracked a grin when he realized whose hand was behind it.

  “Crazy! That is what you were about to call me when you thought I was a bum.” Truth licked his lips. “Yeah, I’m crazy, just as crazy as you are.”

  “Shouldn’t you two niggas be at home, getting ready for school or something?” Dino looked past them at the truck that had just pulled up into the parking lot. The truck stopped a few feet behind Truth and Real. The lights remained on. That’s my nigga, Q, and just in time. Dino laughed. These niggas ’bout to die.

  “You think this shit is funny?” Real asked him after noticing the smile on his face.

  “Look, kids, put the guns down ’fo’ y’all hurt somebody,” Dino joked.

  “More than likely, my mother told you the same thing before you shot her.” Truth cocked his gun.

  “Yo’ mom?” Dino rolled his eyes up into his head. He was pretending not to know what Truth was talking about.

  “Okay, maybe you know what happened to yo’ boy whose house went the fuck up in smoke ... huh?” Real asked.

  Wrinkles formed across Dino’s forehead. He cracked his knuckles. He bobbed his head and stared at Truth and Real with death in his eyes.

  “That got yo’ attention, didn’t it?” Real asked him.

  Dino was no longer smiling. “You two niggas did that shit?” He wanted to know.

  “It ain’t funny now, is it?” Truth laughed. “Yeah, we did it ... us and Candy.” The driver’s side door of the truck suddenly opened. With Truth and Real thinking it was Candy, neither one of them turned to look.

  Dino watched the driver get out of the truck. The high beams blinded him, making it difficult for him to make out who it was. He strained to see past the light. He could see a circle with the word JEEP in the middle of it on the hood of the truck.

  Dino smiled at the site of his boy’s truck.

  “Bitch, you ’bout to die tonight,” Real told Dino.

  “Is that right?” Dino laughed. “Well, I can honestly say, y’all caught a nigga wit’ his pants down.” He raised both hands in defeat. Dino watched the driver walk from the driver’s side of the truck around to the front of the truck. ’Bout fuckin’ time, he thought. These two little niggas could’a killed my ass by now.

  Candy walked down the path of light like a supermodel. She stopped behind her runners. Dino’s eyes grew wide. He choked on his spit when he saw a gold chain around Candy’s neck. The letter Q, made of pure diamonds, hung from the end of the chain.

  Dino knew right away that Q-tip was dead.

  “I hope you bought a life insurance policy wit’ the money you stole from me.” Candy stood between Truth and Real. “I’d love to kill you, but I can’t.”

  Dino let out a sigh of relief.

  “’Cause I promised Truth I’d let him do it.” Smiling, Candy turned to Truth. “Handle yo’ business.” Candy walked back to the Jeep and climbed inside.

  “I’m sorry, kid. Feo put me up to it.” Dino looked at the truck. “Call Candy back over here, I got some info for her. Candy! Candy!” he yelled.

  Candy shut off the headlights. She climbed out of the truck. Walking toward them she said, “What? You wanna tell me where my money at?” She stopped in front of Dino.

  “Naw, but, peep game.” Dino swallowed hard. “Feo and that dude Ken you got representin’ Raynail are working together.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I heard,” she said.

  “Ken been in on it since the beginning.” Dino was singing like a bird. “He gave half of that money you gave him to Feo. Feo set Raynail up ’cause a cop told him that they had enough evidence to lock Feo up for that cop’s murder. Feo tried to throw ’em off him by settin’ Raynail up wit’ the gun. It was Ken’s idea, for real.”

  Candy was pissed. Niggas tryin’a play me at every chance they get. She looked at her runners. “Give him the silent treatment.” She walked back to the truck and got in.

  Truth raised the TEC-9 and shot Dino in the head. He stood over him and let off two rounds into his chest.

  The runners ran to the Jeep and jumped in.

  Candy drove through Taco Bell’s drive-thru without s
topping and parked next to her Lexus. She then looked in the back seat at Truth. “Look in the back and pass me something to wipe our prints off the truck.”

  Truth put both knees on the seat and looked over it. He almost screamed when he saw Q-tip’s body with two bullet holes to the head. Q-tip was balled up in the fetal position on top of a torn sheet.

  “Goddamn, Candy! It’s a torn sheet back here but Q’s body is on it.” Truth looked around the body and noticed a white towel. “Okay, here’s a towel.” He leaned over the top of the seat and over Q-tip’s body, being careful not to touch him.

  “Rub y’all prints off of everything y’all touched and get out,” Candy told them.

  After wiping down their prints, the runners used the towel to open their doors. Truth then walked around to the driver’s window and passed the towel to Candy through the window.

  Candy wiped down the truck. Once she was sure she had covered everything that she had touched, she got out and slipped into her Lexus. She backed up and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Candy took out her cell phone and called Murphy to see if he was able to find Lil John. She let the phone ring five times before hanging up. Hmmm that’s odd, Candy thought. She ended the call and tried calling Murphy again. This time she waited until the voice mail picked up before ending the call.

  “Man, I keep calling Murph to see if he handled Lil John, and he ain’t picking up,” Candy complained. She pushed speed dial and called his phone again. Getting his voice mail, she closed her cell. “Damn, if that nigga ain’t dead, he gonna wish he was.”

  Chapter 6

  The next evening, Murphy pulled a Blackhawk mask from his back pocket and slipped it on. With the exception of his eyes and nose, the mask covered his entire face and head.

  Following Murphy’s lead, his homie slipped on the same type of mask and adjusted it over his eyes and nose. He then looked down at the bulletproof vest he was wearing. He removed two hunting knives from the glove compartment and slid each one into the inside pocket of his vest.

  Murphy pulled down his sun visor and looked at himself in the mirror. “Let’s go,” he said.

  They both got out of the car and closed the doors gently behind them. Murphy walked around the back of the car to the passenger side, where his homie was bent over tying his shoes. Once his homie was done, they both made their way over to their victim’s house.

  Just like two thieves in the night, they maneuvered their way over to Lil John’s house. As mosquitoes and moths danced under the street lights, Murphy and his homie tried their best to avoid the lights.

  The house was situated in a middle-class neighborhood in Buena Park. Buena Park was fifteen minutes away from Knott’s Berry Farm, where violence was not common. The homes were surrounded by tall gates, and sat back away from the curb. Every house on the street was well kept. That is, every house except Lil John’s house.

  Lil John and his family had terrorized the neighborhood for years. He and his wife argued all of the time. When his kids went out to play, they would often throw trash over the gate into their neighbors’ yards. Their house was dark blue, trimmed in white, with chips of paint from the house decorating the grass. The grass was dead and the only time it grew was in the winter when it rained.

  Once Murphy and his homie made it to the house, they hid in some bushes that sat right outside of the dining room window. They watched Lil John and his family prepare the dining room table for dinner.

  “Daddy, can we have some ice cream after we eat?” Lil John’s daughter excitedly asked. She sat on the edge of her chair, swinging her legs while eating a piece of chicken.

  “Ask yo’ moms, ’cause after I eat, I’m out. Got some business to take care of.” Lil John yawned. He walked from the kitchen to the head of the dining room table. He sat down in a chair and picked up his fork.

  “Shit, again!” his wife snapped as she placed the bowl of rice in the middle of the table. “Damn, John, you been gone every night for the past two weeks. Is something going on that you ain’t telling me about?”

  Lil John looked sadly across the table at his wife. He turned his attention to his daughter, who was sitting to his right, smiling from ear to ear. He then looked to his left at his son, who he could feel trying to kick his daughter under the table.

  It had been weeks since Lil John had spent quality time with his kids. After pinning the dirty gun on Raynail, he knew that it was just a matter of time before Candy got to him.

  He didn’t want to risk getting his family involved. But what he had failed to realize was that Candy didn’t care about his family, especially when it came to protecting hers. He had heard many stories about her killing dudes, but failed to study up on them. A long arm was what she had. And even if she couldn’t lay down the wrath that fate had dealt her victims, if the bounty was on point, there were lots of dudes out there who would.

  Lil John looked across the table at his wife. To avoid going through another night of questioning, he did the first thing that came to mind. “Put that chicken down, baby, so we can bless the food.” He smiled at his daughter. He waited for her to put the chicken on her plate, and took her hand.

  His wife looked at him like he had lost his mind. As usual, he was trying to avoid talking to her, but this time his tactic was unique. It involved God, somebody she knew, but that he knew nothing about.

  “Stop playing wit’ me and answer the question,” his wife argued. “You tryin’a change the subject and shit but it ain’t gonna work. Since when did we start praying before we ate?” His wife looked at their daughter. “Go ahead and eat that chicken.”

  “Let’s say grace, Mama,” their son yelled. He hopped up and down in his chair while banging his hands on the table.

  “Yeah, I’ll say it.” Their daughter smiled, showing her dimples. “Let me say it.”

  “No, I asked first,” the boy cried. “I ... Daddy! I said it first.”

  His wife shot him an evil look before turning her attention to the children. “Shut up! Y’all daddy gonna say it since it was his idea.” She stared at Lil John as she grabbed their children’s hands. “Put y’all head down.”

  The children dropped their heads and closed their eyes.

  Lil John looked at his wife and started laughing. “Close yo’ eyes too.” He lowered his head but instead of blessing the food, he prayed for God to watch over him and his family. He regretted what he had done to Raynail and wished that there was some way he could change his situation.

  Lil John could tell by all the jerking and moving his son was doing that he did not have his head down. He opened one of his eyes and, just as he had suspected, his son was violently shaking his head from left to right. Lil John closed his eyes and continued to pray.

  The little boy stopped moving after noticing two masked men looking through the dining room window, with one of them holding a gun. Smiling, he snatched his hand from his mother and waved at them. He giggled when one of them waved back. His mother opened her eyes. She grabbed his hand, and closed her eyes.

  “Murphy, what the fuck you waving at that boy for?” his homie asked.

  “It’s cool, watch this.” Murphy put his finger up to his mask where his lips would have been, as if to tell the boy to be quiet. He pulled a piece of gum from his pocket and held it up for the boy to see. He then reached his hand slightly into the window, acting as though he was giving it to the boy. The boy tried to snatch his hands away from his parents but they tightened their grips on his hand, and wouldn’t let go. Seeing the boy trying to break loose, Murphy motioned for him to sit still by holding up the palm of his hand. He then pointed to his own head and lowered it, hoping the boy would do the same. Following Murphy’s lead, the boy lowered his head. He assumed that he would get the candy once his daddy had finished praying.

  Murphy looked at everyone’s face at the table. He was making sure that their eyes were closed. He then screwed the silencer on his Glock and leveled it, so that the muzzle was midpoint through the w
indow and aimed directly at Lil John’s head.

  The first and only shot hit Lil John in the temple. Lil John’s head rested on his plate, with blood covering his rice like gravy.

  Murphy and his homie hurried to the car. While driving away they both looked at Lil John’s house and laughed.

  “John, what the hell is wrong wit’ you?” his wife asked, never opening her eyes. “You supposed to say ‘amen’ so everybody can open they eyes and start eating.”

  The little boy opened his eyes and looked at his father. “Mommy, I think Daddy went to sleep.”

  Opening her eyes, she noticed all of the blood on the table and the hole in the side of Lil John’s head. “What the fu ... !” She jumped up and ran over to him. “John! What the hell just happened?” She stood to the side of him and grabbed both of his shoulders. She pulled him back against the seat. “Oh, God, he’s dead! He’s dead ... but how? Who killed him?” Still holding him up, she looked frantically around the dining room, trying to figure out what happened.

  “I know!” The boy hopped up and down in his seat. He raised his hand like a student in school when the teacher asked the class a question.

  “Who was it, baby? Who killed your daddy?”

  The little boy pointed to the window. “Candy man.”

  Chapter 7

  It had been years since Candy had been to church. As a kid, she attended church regularly with her grandmother and was a part of the Little Angels Church Choir. Candy’s mother would drop her off at her grandmother’s house the Saturday before, and then pick her up Sunday evening after church. Her mother never attended church but, instead, spent most of her time at their next-door neighbor’s house getting drunk. On special occasions like Mother’s Day and Christmas, when the children would do musical performances for their parents, Candy would beg her mother to go to church with her and her grandmother. But no matter how much she begged, her mother’s answer was always the same: no.

  Candy walked up the steps of St. Matthew Missionary Baptist Church and stood in front of the open double doors. She looked up at the cross that was on the roof of the church, and thought about something that she remembered her mother always saying each time her grandmother would ask her to, “Come ride with us to church.”