The devil wears timbs 3, p.9
The Devil Wears Timbs 3, page 9
“Ahhh!” She quickly cupped her hands to her face and hot tears splashed from her moist eyes. She trembled hard as if her bones were chattering.
“I done told you before to slow your roll.” Fear told her. “My partner over there is trigger happy. That toy I gave her is brand new and she’s dying to put a body on it. I just pray to God is not yours ‘cause I’d hate to see that happen.” He shook his head like it would be such a shame. “Now what’s your name?”
“Melissa.” She sobbed, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Alright, Melissa, I’m gonna ask you a yes or no question. And I want a yes or no answer. Do you understand?” She nodded rapidly. “Good. Do you want to live?” He looked her dead in her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She was scared, real scared. She could feel her bladder filling as she stared into his dark soulless eyes. She knew without a doubt he’d leave her inside of her condo face down.
“Ye—yes.” Melissa nodded.
“Great. Answer this question and we’ll leave you here unharmed. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Where can we find Honcho?”
“I don’t know. I swear to God I don’t know.” She sobbed hard, fearful of what the masked men and woman would do if she didn’t give them the answer they wanted.
“This bitch lying!” Eureka called it how she saw it.
“Relax,” Fear raised a hand. “See, here’s where the problem comes in Melissa…” he leaned in closer with a pair of menacing eyes “…I don’t believe you.” He whispered, causing her heart to smack up against her chest plate. “Melissa the last thing I’d hate to do is leave you here with your thoughts splattered all over this here pretty chin chiller carpet.” He looked around at the thick beige carpet. “Hear me when I say I’m not tryna take it there, boo.” He spoke soothing and calmingly. “All I want to know is the whereabouts of your sponsor. You give me that and all of this will seem like a bad dream, we’ll be gone, my right hand to God.” He lifted a hand and swore with an expression as serious as cancer.
Melissa was one of the five younger women Honcho took care of. She and one of the other girls bore his children, which made her one of the upmost importance in his life. He took them out of the slums and moved them out to nice cozy tenements out in Beverly Hills. He made sure their condos’ rent were paid, the car note was taken care of, they had food in the house and he gave them a generous allowance every week. It was safe to say Melissa was a kept woman. She would never have to lift a finger for as long as she lived. All she had to do what take care of their baby boy, CJ, Carlos Jr.
For as good as life had been since she’d gotten herself knocked up by the Mexican drug lord, right now she was regretting the day she’d ever laid eyes on him. She loved the attention she got being one of the women of Carlos Radames. His status opened a lot of doors for her and she was the benefactor of many spoils but now she couldn’t care less about any of that. Why? Because wasn’t none of that shit going to save her life.
Melissa stared dead into Fear’s eyes and knew without a doubt he would leave her sleeping forever. Even so, she couldn’t give up Honcho. She loved him far too much. She’d much rather sacrifice her own life for his.
“I’m sorry.” She slapped her hand over her mouth as she shook her head rapidly, tears raining from her eyes causing her eyeliner to run. She closed her eyes and hoped her murder would be a quick and painless one.
“Waaaaa! Waaaaa! Waaaaa!” The baby wailed, stealing everyone’s attention.
Fear looked over to the baby then peeked back at Melissa, smiling evilly. “Watch her.” He ordered Eureka, slinging the strap of the machine gun over his shoulder as he headed over to the baby. Melissa panicked, looking back and forth between the killer and the baby seat.
Once she saw he was headed for her baby, she motioned toward them shouting, “Noooo.” But she jumped back when Eureka turned his machine gun on her.
“Move again and that’s yo’ ass.” she warned.
All Melissa could do was stand there and watch as Fear scooped the baby out of the baby seat. He rocked the little guy in his arms and looked upon him, making faces. The little fella smiled and made cute noises as he tickled his chin.
“Lil’ nigga is cute. You sure he’s Honcho’s son?”
“Yes.” She nodded, tears falling rapidly. She wiped them from under each eye as they fell.
The killer pushed the oven to the center of the kitchen floor so Melissa could see it in full view. He yanked open the door and inserted the baby inside. Seeing this, made her look alive, especially once she saw him close the door back. He turned the dial to boil and took a step back with a wicked smirk plastered on his face.
“Noooooooo!” She jumped to her feet and shoved Eureka aside. She dashed over to the oven, but Eureka tripped her up. She fell hard on her stomach, grimacing as the wind was knocked out of her. She then grabbed her up under her arm and threw her narrow ass on the couch.
He pointed the machine gun in her face and barked, “Try that again,” he warned. “On my momma, I’ma pump you fulla some hot shit. You understand me?”
She nodded her head and sniffled. She looked to Fear and he was pulling the sleeve of his black sweatshirt up uncovering his digital watch. He glanced at the time then looked up at her, resting his arm on the top of the oven.
“Alright I figure you’ve gotta ‘bout three minutes before lil’ Honcho there starts cooking. So I suggest you tell me what I wanna know. Not now, but right now.”
“You monster, he’s just a baby!”
“You think I care? Fuck this lil’ mothafucka,” he kicked the oven’s door. “He didn’t come from me. You wanna save ‘em yo ass betta start moving them dick suckers.” A while of silence passed and he glanced at his watch again. “One and a half minute left.” He announced then looked through the square glass window of the oven, Honcho’s offspring was wailing. He turned back around to the baby’s mother. “Yeah, he’s starting to sweat in there.”
Melissa dropped to her hands and knees slobbering and sobbing as she hung her head, tears dripping into the thick carpet and staining her hands.
“One minute.” The hit man told her.
“Okay! Alright!” She threw her head up crying, shoulders shuddering. “You win. I’ll tell you.”
“You betta catch diarrhea at the mouth ‘cause you’ve gotta ‘bout half a minute ‘fore this lil’ nigga comes outta that there oven scorched.”
Melissa vomited the location of Honcho’s mansion out in the Suburbs of Los Angeles. When she was done, she pleaded for the assassin to give her her baby back. Fear took his time opening the oven and recovering CJ. Receiving her son, the mother checked him thoroughly. A smile curled her lips seeing her bundle of joy was okay.
“Cut the phone lines and retrieve her cell phone,” Fear ordered Eureka. With the flick of her wrist, she brandished a shiny blade and did as her mentor commanded. She then dumped the contents of Melissa’s purse out on the floor and rummaged through it with her foot until she uncovered her cell. She picked it up and broke it in half, letting the halves drop to her feet.
“I trust after we leave you aren’t going to contact Honcho or the police, right?” Fear looked at her like Bitch if you say anything other than no, I’ma dead your ass right here.
“No.” She shook her head, wiping her wet face with her sleeve. “I won’t tell him nothing. I won’t say a thing. I swear on my son’s life.”
“Great answer,” he replied, looking her dead in the eyes and meaning everything he said next. “I’d sure hate to find out you opened your mouth ‘cause that would guarantee lil’ man would become an orphan. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” She shook her head no.
He threw the power cord at her feet. She looked up and a frown corrupted her face, it was a part to the oven, a part that it couldn’t work without.
“The monster has a heart.” He told her before waving Eureka on and making his exit.
*****
The night was quiet, still, and cold. So cold he could see his breath every time he breathed. His fists were wrapped up in bandages and he was naked from the neck down, clad in only black parachute pants. His neck was on a swivel as it took in all of the 2 x 4’s surrounding him. They were planted firmly inside of the ground and were wrapped in thick layers of torn sheet. His fists came before his eyes as he slid his legs apart, positioning himself in a fighter’s stance. He closed his eyes for a moment and was transported to that faithful night. Not the night he and his sister were forced to go on the run from the tyrant known as Malvo, but the night his father was taken away from him.
Bloc! Bloc!
The rush of gunshots echoed throughout Anton’s mental. He could literally hear his father screaming as his flesh was scorched by the sizzling bullets. Over and over again the images of Bootsy being murdered and stripped of his valuables would play within the theater of his imagination. It was a trip to him because he wasn’t there when it had happened. And even though he knew he’d only been shot once, his mind tortured him with the thoughts of his father being brutally murdered.
Crack! Thwack! Wrack!
The 2 x 4’s made their own music when his fists and feet struck them. His body was glistening with perspiration. He was lost within the depths of his thoughts and was attacking the faceless killer that had murdered his father. He could hear the murderer’s cries as he met with his lightening quick assault.
“Stop, please!”
“Ooof!”
“Fuck a please! You killed my dad, you bastard!” The youngster growled, lashing out like a wolverine. He attacked the boards viciously causing them to make even louder noises. He was breathing hard and his form was running with sweat like as if it was beads of water from a shower. You couldn’t tell him he wasn’t face to face with the son of bitch that had stolen his old man’s life. He could see him grimacing and doubling over as he tore into him. He witnessed his head whip around after a solid right to the jaw, a spray of blood going through the air. Finally, the murderer dropped to his knees. Anton followed up with a haymaker. He drew all of his strength into his fist and fired on the 2 x 4. Waammp! The board broke, its top half flipping through the air. It came down and stabbed into the lawn.
Anton dropped down to his hands and knees, his head bobbing as he panted, dripping sweat.
Unbeknownst to Anton, Fear and Eureka had arrived home not long ago and were watching him from the kitchen window.
“I got ‘em, I got ‘em, Dad,” he spoke to his father. “I beat ‘em, I beat ‘em for you.” He staggered to his feet and approached Bootsy who was standing before him with open arms. It wasn’t him though. It was actually one of the 2 x 4’s. The youngster was missing his pop’s so much he’d become delusional.
“You did good son, real good.” He imagined Bootsy’s voice. “Come here. Give your old man a hug.”
“I missed you, Dad. I missed you so much.” Anton’s emotions got the best of him. Tears manifested in his eyes and took a tour down his cheeks as he moved forth.
“I missed you too, champ. Bring it in.” Anton envisioned Bootsy motioning him over with waves of his hands. He bore a smiling face and his entire body was lit as if he was glowing from the inside.
A smirk snaked its way across Anton’s lips as he fell into his father’s imaginary arms, holding him tightly. He snuggled his face against his chest and cried his heart out. “I know you told me to always be strong, but—but I’m hurting, Dad. I’m hurting so, so much.” He sniffled and licked his lips. “It’s not easy being—being strong. It’s been so hard since you haven’t been here.”
“It’s okay, I’m back now.” He kissed him on top of the head, and rubbed his back. Anton hadn’t noticed but it wasn’t his father who he’d wrapped his arms around. It was Fear. His eyes were glassy and he could feel the young boy’s pain. He wished he could zap all of that hurt that was inside of him so he wouldn’t have to feel it, but he knew that was impossible. He would have to deal with his hurt the best way that he knew how.
20 minutes later…
“I say we hit Honcho’s monkey ass tonight.” Anton slammed his fist into his palm and closed his fingers around it. He was bare chest with a white towel around his neck.
“We can’t hit’em tonight without a plan, family.” Fear massaged his chin as he was thinking. “He’ll most definitely be waiting on us. I’m sure word has spread like the Ebola virus about Arkane’s death by now. Them old heads done took extra precautions.”
“He’s right, Ant.” Eureka added her two cents. “After taking out Arkane, Jun, and Mike, Honcho’s antennas are definitely going to be up. He’s gonna expect us to come gunning for him.”
“I hear what chu saying, but I’m telling y’all if we strike tonight they won’t be expecting us.” Anton assured with his palms down on the table, looking from his sister to his mentor. “Hit these mothafuckaz hard, I mean real hard. They won’t know what hit ‘em and by the time they do we would have been done executed Honcho’s ass and got outta the way.”
“We need a plan, junior,” Fear eye fucked him and said with a low growl. “We can’t go storming in on his soil halfcocked. I’m not doing it. I’m not putting all of our lives at risk.”
“Man, this is some bullshit!” Anton threw his towel to the floor. “Fuck the waiting, the time is now! If we keep sitting around, they’re gonna eventually find us and dead us! You said these dudes gotta ‘nough juice and bread to put a small country to sleep, right? Well, what do you think they can do to the three of us?” He stopped and waited for Fear’s response.
The killer settled down in his chair and cleared his throat before saying another word.
“I gave my order and my word is final.” Fear shot him a stern expression. From the look on his face, it was understood he wasn’t bullshitting, and any more lip from the youngling could possibly lead to him getting his ass kicked.
Things were quiet for a time with Eureka looking back and forth between her brother and her man. Then finally one of them spoke and broke the silence, “Alright,” Anton picked up the towel. “It’s your call.”
He slung the towel over his shoulder and moved for the hall. He only stopped when he was called back.
“You know the penalty for disobedience?” He gave him a look like Fuck up and I won’t hesitate to tax that ass.
“Like the back of my hand.” He held up his hand which had L.O.E inked on it. Those were his parting words before he vanished into the mouth of the hallway.
“Baby brother’s gotta head harder than titanium.” Fear gave Eureka his acknowledgement.
“Yeah, Ant’s as stubborn as they come, I can’t argue with that.”
“You think he’ll go after Honcho?”
Eureka looked from Fear to the hallway then back. “I wouldn’t put it passed him.”
Fear hopped up from his chair and motioned for Eureka to follow him.
*****
Anton stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He threw himself on the bed and clasped his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
“Why don’t they ever listen to me? It’s ‘cause they look at me as a kid, I bet. Probably think I don’t know what I’m talking about. All of my life, niggaz been shutting me out ‘cause I was too little or too young. I hate that shit, man! Grrrr,” he turned on his side and punched the bed, heatedly.
“What happened, Champ?” Bootsy turned Anton’s chin from left to right as he inspected his face.
“He got into a fight with Tyrone.” Eureka informed him.
“That grown ass man up the street? Nigga got me fucked up,” Bootsy’s brows furrowed. “Let me get my shit.” He moved to go into the closet to get the .44 Magnum revolver he had stashed inside of a tin box.
“Nah, Daddy, Tyrone ain’t but two years older than Ant.”
Bootsy looked surprised. His mouth was stuck open. “That big swollen mothafucka look like he at least thirty. What’re they feeding these kids these days?”
“Beats me,” Eureka shrugged.
“Reka, gon’ get me the First-Aid kit outta the bathroom cabinet.”
Once Eureka was gone, he tended to his son, giving his cuts and bruises a thorough exam.
“That one there is a beaut,” he said of his swollen, blackened eye. “You use the shit I taught you?”
“Yeah, I got ‘em good, Daddy,” Anton smiled weakly. “But he was too big. He got the best of me. I’m too light to fight and too thin to win.” He hung his head shamefully, having been given a hard time for being one of the smallest kids that attended his school.
“That’s bullshit!” Bootsy spat, peevishly. “Long as there’s breath in your lungs and you got these,” he held up his clenched fists. “You’ve always gotta chance to win. I don’t give a shit if a son of a bitch is seven feet tall and you’re three foot nothing, your chance at winning a brawl is just as good as his. Is all about the size of the fight in ya son.”
“But Daddy I can’t…”
“Fuck you just say to me?” Bootsy cut his eyes at his son. He looked like he was about to smack sparks out of him. Anton hung his head. “You look a man in his eyes when he’s addressing you, I taught you better than that.” Anton lifted his head up, locking eyes with his old man. “Can’t is for losers. If you got can’t up here,” he tapped his temple with his finger, “then you’ve already lost before you’ve even begun. ‘I can’t’ shouldn’t roll off of any man’s tongue. If it does, he’s not fit to call himself a man. He’s nothing more than a male. That’s it.” He scooted his chair closer and took his boy by the hands, keeping eye contact. “I will and I can is all you know, son. When there is a will there is a way. Your dedication, your determination, your drive to succeed and achieve is enough to conquer anything life puts in your way. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come on, junior.” He smiled, playfully punching the boy. “You sounding like a lil’ old bitch right now, put some bass in your voice.”
“I done told you before to slow your roll.” Fear told her. “My partner over there is trigger happy. That toy I gave her is brand new and she’s dying to put a body on it. I just pray to God is not yours ‘cause I’d hate to see that happen.” He shook his head like it would be such a shame. “Now what’s your name?”
“Melissa.” She sobbed, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Alright, Melissa, I’m gonna ask you a yes or no question. And I want a yes or no answer. Do you understand?” She nodded rapidly. “Good. Do you want to live?” He looked her dead in her eyes and her heart skipped a beat. She was scared, real scared. She could feel her bladder filling as she stared into his dark soulless eyes. She knew without a doubt he’d leave her inside of her condo face down.
“Ye—yes.” Melissa nodded.
“Great. Answer this question and we’ll leave you here unharmed. Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Where can we find Honcho?”
“I don’t know. I swear to God I don’t know.” She sobbed hard, fearful of what the masked men and woman would do if she didn’t give them the answer they wanted.
“This bitch lying!” Eureka called it how she saw it.
“Relax,” Fear raised a hand. “See, here’s where the problem comes in Melissa…” he leaned in closer with a pair of menacing eyes “…I don’t believe you.” He whispered, causing her heart to smack up against her chest plate. “Melissa the last thing I’d hate to do is leave you here with your thoughts splattered all over this here pretty chin chiller carpet.” He looked around at the thick beige carpet. “Hear me when I say I’m not tryna take it there, boo.” He spoke soothing and calmingly. “All I want to know is the whereabouts of your sponsor. You give me that and all of this will seem like a bad dream, we’ll be gone, my right hand to God.” He lifted a hand and swore with an expression as serious as cancer.
Melissa was one of the five younger women Honcho took care of. She and one of the other girls bore his children, which made her one of the upmost importance in his life. He took them out of the slums and moved them out to nice cozy tenements out in Beverly Hills. He made sure their condos’ rent were paid, the car note was taken care of, they had food in the house and he gave them a generous allowance every week. It was safe to say Melissa was a kept woman. She would never have to lift a finger for as long as she lived. All she had to do what take care of their baby boy, CJ, Carlos Jr.
For as good as life had been since she’d gotten herself knocked up by the Mexican drug lord, right now she was regretting the day she’d ever laid eyes on him. She loved the attention she got being one of the women of Carlos Radames. His status opened a lot of doors for her and she was the benefactor of many spoils but now she couldn’t care less about any of that. Why? Because wasn’t none of that shit going to save her life.
Melissa stared dead into Fear’s eyes and knew without a doubt he would leave her sleeping forever. Even so, she couldn’t give up Honcho. She loved him far too much. She’d much rather sacrifice her own life for his.
“I’m sorry.” She slapped her hand over her mouth as she shook her head rapidly, tears raining from her eyes causing her eyeliner to run. She closed her eyes and hoped her murder would be a quick and painless one.
“Waaaaa! Waaaaa! Waaaaa!” The baby wailed, stealing everyone’s attention.
Fear looked over to the baby then peeked back at Melissa, smiling evilly. “Watch her.” He ordered Eureka, slinging the strap of the machine gun over his shoulder as he headed over to the baby. Melissa panicked, looking back and forth between the killer and the baby seat.
Once she saw he was headed for her baby, she motioned toward them shouting, “Noooo.” But she jumped back when Eureka turned his machine gun on her.
“Move again and that’s yo’ ass.” she warned.
All Melissa could do was stand there and watch as Fear scooped the baby out of the baby seat. He rocked the little guy in his arms and looked upon him, making faces. The little fella smiled and made cute noises as he tickled his chin.
“Lil’ nigga is cute. You sure he’s Honcho’s son?”
“Yes.” She nodded, tears falling rapidly. She wiped them from under each eye as they fell.
The killer pushed the oven to the center of the kitchen floor so Melissa could see it in full view. He yanked open the door and inserted the baby inside. Seeing this, made her look alive, especially once she saw him close the door back. He turned the dial to boil and took a step back with a wicked smirk plastered on his face.
“Noooooooo!” She jumped to her feet and shoved Eureka aside. She dashed over to the oven, but Eureka tripped her up. She fell hard on her stomach, grimacing as the wind was knocked out of her. She then grabbed her up under her arm and threw her narrow ass on the couch.
He pointed the machine gun in her face and barked, “Try that again,” he warned. “On my momma, I’ma pump you fulla some hot shit. You understand me?”
She nodded her head and sniffled. She looked to Fear and he was pulling the sleeve of his black sweatshirt up uncovering his digital watch. He glanced at the time then looked up at her, resting his arm on the top of the oven.
“Alright I figure you’ve gotta ‘bout three minutes before lil’ Honcho there starts cooking. So I suggest you tell me what I wanna know. Not now, but right now.”
“You monster, he’s just a baby!”
“You think I care? Fuck this lil’ mothafucka,” he kicked the oven’s door. “He didn’t come from me. You wanna save ‘em yo ass betta start moving them dick suckers.” A while of silence passed and he glanced at his watch again. “One and a half minute left.” He announced then looked through the square glass window of the oven, Honcho’s offspring was wailing. He turned back around to the baby’s mother. “Yeah, he’s starting to sweat in there.”
Melissa dropped to her hands and knees slobbering and sobbing as she hung her head, tears dripping into the thick carpet and staining her hands.
“One minute.” The hit man told her.
“Okay! Alright!” She threw her head up crying, shoulders shuddering. “You win. I’ll tell you.”
“You betta catch diarrhea at the mouth ‘cause you’ve gotta ‘bout half a minute ‘fore this lil’ nigga comes outta that there oven scorched.”
Melissa vomited the location of Honcho’s mansion out in the Suburbs of Los Angeles. When she was done, she pleaded for the assassin to give her her baby back. Fear took his time opening the oven and recovering CJ. Receiving her son, the mother checked him thoroughly. A smile curled her lips seeing her bundle of joy was okay.
“Cut the phone lines and retrieve her cell phone,” Fear ordered Eureka. With the flick of her wrist, she brandished a shiny blade and did as her mentor commanded. She then dumped the contents of Melissa’s purse out on the floor and rummaged through it with her foot until she uncovered her cell. She picked it up and broke it in half, letting the halves drop to her feet.
“I trust after we leave you aren’t going to contact Honcho or the police, right?” Fear looked at her like Bitch if you say anything other than no, I’ma dead your ass right here.
“No.” She shook her head, wiping her wet face with her sleeve. “I won’t tell him nothing. I won’t say a thing. I swear on my son’s life.”
“Great answer,” he replied, looking her dead in the eyes and meaning everything he said next. “I’d sure hate to find out you opened your mouth ‘cause that would guarantee lil’ man would become an orphan. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” She shook her head no.
He threw the power cord at her feet. She looked up and a frown corrupted her face, it was a part to the oven, a part that it couldn’t work without.
“The monster has a heart.” He told her before waving Eureka on and making his exit.
*****
The night was quiet, still, and cold. So cold he could see his breath every time he breathed. His fists were wrapped up in bandages and he was naked from the neck down, clad in only black parachute pants. His neck was on a swivel as it took in all of the 2 x 4’s surrounding him. They were planted firmly inside of the ground and were wrapped in thick layers of torn sheet. His fists came before his eyes as he slid his legs apart, positioning himself in a fighter’s stance. He closed his eyes for a moment and was transported to that faithful night. Not the night he and his sister were forced to go on the run from the tyrant known as Malvo, but the night his father was taken away from him.
Bloc! Bloc!
The rush of gunshots echoed throughout Anton’s mental. He could literally hear his father screaming as his flesh was scorched by the sizzling bullets. Over and over again the images of Bootsy being murdered and stripped of his valuables would play within the theater of his imagination. It was a trip to him because he wasn’t there when it had happened. And even though he knew he’d only been shot once, his mind tortured him with the thoughts of his father being brutally murdered.
Crack! Thwack! Wrack!
The 2 x 4’s made their own music when his fists and feet struck them. His body was glistening with perspiration. He was lost within the depths of his thoughts and was attacking the faceless killer that had murdered his father. He could hear the murderer’s cries as he met with his lightening quick assault.
“Stop, please!”
“Ooof!”
“Fuck a please! You killed my dad, you bastard!” The youngster growled, lashing out like a wolverine. He attacked the boards viciously causing them to make even louder noises. He was breathing hard and his form was running with sweat like as if it was beads of water from a shower. You couldn’t tell him he wasn’t face to face with the son of bitch that had stolen his old man’s life. He could see him grimacing and doubling over as he tore into him. He witnessed his head whip around after a solid right to the jaw, a spray of blood going through the air. Finally, the murderer dropped to his knees. Anton followed up with a haymaker. He drew all of his strength into his fist and fired on the 2 x 4. Waammp! The board broke, its top half flipping through the air. It came down and stabbed into the lawn.
Anton dropped down to his hands and knees, his head bobbing as he panted, dripping sweat.
Unbeknownst to Anton, Fear and Eureka had arrived home not long ago and were watching him from the kitchen window.
“I got ‘em, I got ‘em, Dad,” he spoke to his father. “I beat ‘em, I beat ‘em for you.” He staggered to his feet and approached Bootsy who was standing before him with open arms. It wasn’t him though. It was actually one of the 2 x 4’s. The youngster was missing his pop’s so much he’d become delusional.
“You did good son, real good.” He imagined Bootsy’s voice. “Come here. Give your old man a hug.”
“I missed you, Dad. I missed you so much.” Anton’s emotions got the best of him. Tears manifested in his eyes and took a tour down his cheeks as he moved forth.
“I missed you too, champ. Bring it in.” Anton envisioned Bootsy motioning him over with waves of his hands. He bore a smiling face and his entire body was lit as if he was glowing from the inside.
A smirk snaked its way across Anton’s lips as he fell into his father’s imaginary arms, holding him tightly. He snuggled his face against his chest and cried his heart out. “I know you told me to always be strong, but—but I’m hurting, Dad. I’m hurting so, so much.” He sniffled and licked his lips. “It’s not easy being—being strong. It’s been so hard since you haven’t been here.”
“It’s okay, I’m back now.” He kissed him on top of the head, and rubbed his back. Anton hadn’t noticed but it wasn’t his father who he’d wrapped his arms around. It was Fear. His eyes were glassy and he could feel the young boy’s pain. He wished he could zap all of that hurt that was inside of him so he wouldn’t have to feel it, but he knew that was impossible. He would have to deal with his hurt the best way that he knew how.
20 minutes later…
“I say we hit Honcho’s monkey ass tonight.” Anton slammed his fist into his palm and closed his fingers around it. He was bare chest with a white towel around his neck.
“We can’t hit’em tonight without a plan, family.” Fear massaged his chin as he was thinking. “He’ll most definitely be waiting on us. I’m sure word has spread like the Ebola virus about Arkane’s death by now. Them old heads done took extra precautions.”
“He’s right, Ant.” Eureka added her two cents. “After taking out Arkane, Jun, and Mike, Honcho’s antennas are definitely going to be up. He’s gonna expect us to come gunning for him.”
“I hear what chu saying, but I’m telling y’all if we strike tonight they won’t be expecting us.” Anton assured with his palms down on the table, looking from his sister to his mentor. “Hit these mothafuckaz hard, I mean real hard. They won’t know what hit ‘em and by the time they do we would have been done executed Honcho’s ass and got outta the way.”
“We need a plan, junior,” Fear eye fucked him and said with a low growl. “We can’t go storming in on his soil halfcocked. I’m not doing it. I’m not putting all of our lives at risk.”
“Man, this is some bullshit!” Anton threw his towel to the floor. “Fuck the waiting, the time is now! If we keep sitting around, they’re gonna eventually find us and dead us! You said these dudes gotta ‘nough juice and bread to put a small country to sleep, right? Well, what do you think they can do to the three of us?” He stopped and waited for Fear’s response.
The killer settled down in his chair and cleared his throat before saying another word.
“I gave my order and my word is final.” Fear shot him a stern expression. From the look on his face, it was understood he wasn’t bullshitting, and any more lip from the youngling could possibly lead to him getting his ass kicked.
Things were quiet for a time with Eureka looking back and forth between her brother and her man. Then finally one of them spoke and broke the silence, “Alright,” Anton picked up the towel. “It’s your call.”
He slung the towel over his shoulder and moved for the hall. He only stopped when he was called back.
“You know the penalty for disobedience?” He gave him a look like Fuck up and I won’t hesitate to tax that ass.
“Like the back of my hand.” He held up his hand which had L.O.E inked on it. Those were his parting words before he vanished into the mouth of the hallway.
“Baby brother’s gotta head harder than titanium.” Fear gave Eureka his acknowledgement.
“Yeah, Ant’s as stubborn as they come, I can’t argue with that.”
“You think he’ll go after Honcho?”
Eureka looked from Fear to the hallway then back. “I wouldn’t put it passed him.”
Fear hopped up from his chair and motioned for Eureka to follow him.
*****
Anton stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. He threw himself on the bed and clasped his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
“Why don’t they ever listen to me? It’s ‘cause they look at me as a kid, I bet. Probably think I don’t know what I’m talking about. All of my life, niggaz been shutting me out ‘cause I was too little or too young. I hate that shit, man! Grrrr,” he turned on his side and punched the bed, heatedly.
“What happened, Champ?” Bootsy turned Anton’s chin from left to right as he inspected his face.
“He got into a fight with Tyrone.” Eureka informed him.
“That grown ass man up the street? Nigga got me fucked up,” Bootsy’s brows furrowed. “Let me get my shit.” He moved to go into the closet to get the .44 Magnum revolver he had stashed inside of a tin box.
“Nah, Daddy, Tyrone ain’t but two years older than Ant.”
Bootsy looked surprised. His mouth was stuck open. “That big swollen mothafucka look like he at least thirty. What’re they feeding these kids these days?”
“Beats me,” Eureka shrugged.
“Reka, gon’ get me the First-Aid kit outta the bathroom cabinet.”
Once Eureka was gone, he tended to his son, giving his cuts and bruises a thorough exam.
“That one there is a beaut,” he said of his swollen, blackened eye. “You use the shit I taught you?”
“Yeah, I got ‘em good, Daddy,” Anton smiled weakly. “But he was too big. He got the best of me. I’m too light to fight and too thin to win.” He hung his head shamefully, having been given a hard time for being one of the smallest kids that attended his school.
“That’s bullshit!” Bootsy spat, peevishly. “Long as there’s breath in your lungs and you got these,” he held up his clenched fists. “You’ve always gotta chance to win. I don’t give a shit if a son of a bitch is seven feet tall and you’re three foot nothing, your chance at winning a brawl is just as good as his. Is all about the size of the fight in ya son.”
“But Daddy I can’t…”
“Fuck you just say to me?” Bootsy cut his eyes at his son. He looked like he was about to smack sparks out of him. Anton hung his head. “You look a man in his eyes when he’s addressing you, I taught you better than that.” Anton lifted his head up, locking eyes with his old man. “Can’t is for losers. If you got can’t up here,” he tapped his temple with his finger, “then you’ve already lost before you’ve even begun. ‘I can’t’ shouldn’t roll off of any man’s tongue. If it does, he’s not fit to call himself a man. He’s nothing more than a male. That’s it.” He scooted his chair closer and took his boy by the hands, keeping eye contact. “I will and I can is all you know, son. When there is a will there is a way. Your dedication, your determination, your drive to succeed and achieve is enough to conquer anything life puts in your way. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come on, junior.” He smiled, playfully punching the boy. “You sounding like a lil’ old bitch right now, put some bass in your voice.”
