Charmed By A Steel City Hustler

Chapter 45 — Payback is a Mutha



Bash:

I never went home to sleep as originally planned and that was eight hours ago. Rest wasn't going to come for me until Kwame or anyone remaining on his team was in the dirt. Lola was laid up fighting for her life. Lois was taking on the wrath of everyone all while pregnant with a mystery baby.

That shit was lingering in the back of my mind as well. There was absolutely no way in hell she was carrying Adonis' seed. That fool couldn't hit a target if it was two feet in front of him. We were going to have a long conversation once I wrapped all these loose ends the fuck up.

I saw a Lincoln Navigator pull up with tinted windows and loud ass sounds. These fools were not being discreet at all. Two dread heads jumped out and neither was Kwame. I took a closer look at the photo sitting in my passenger seat. The driver was Kason, Kwame's little brother. From what I heard he was more laid back and handled business diplomatically. Baby boy was about to pay the price for his brother's actions.

I put my phone in the glove compartment and slipped on the black leather gloves from my seat. I had all my murder gear in the truck for months now. It had been a while since I suited up to get some respect. I felt seventeen years old again going hunting for my first kill.

I grabbed both guns, checking the clips and hopped out my whip. The street was quiet except for the nighttime insects chirping. This neighborhood was semi-decent with one story houses lining the sidewalks.

I jogged around back and hopped over the fence. I had done a drive by earlier and saw some knuckle head grab a spare key from under the plant pot. That shit was predictable, and there was only one plant. These dumb asses could have at least played a shell game with the shit. I opened the door slowly and walked inside.

The downstairs was quiet as I did a quick sweep. I shook my head again at the rookie mistakes being displayed. I took the steps two at a time with my pistol outstretched in front of me. I landed on the top step and heard snoring in addition to a loud ass television set.

I walked to the first door I saw on the right. The snoring got louder as I squeaked the door open and sent two bullets into the dome of the fool sleeping. He had been in the passenger seat of the SUV.

I walked a few more feet and arrived at the room with the television and saw Paid in Full playing. I heard some coughing and kicked the door in and saw Kason covering his mouth. POP! I shot him in the right knee causing him to fall out of the bed.

"Awe shit! Nigga do you know who the fuck I am?"

"No bitch, do you know who the fuck I am? Bash Malcolm. Your pussy ass brother came for mine in the worst way. Time to pay the piper."

This mufucka started laughing like a goddamn hyena. I bitch slapped him with my gun and commence to whooping his ass. All the frustration I had over the past few months was being released. My marriage being a fucking joke, Adonis on his bitch made shit. This fool was getting the lion's share of my irritation.

I slowed my blows when I realized that he was no longer yelling out. I stood over his lifeless body to admire my handy work. This fool looked like he got hit with a sack of nickels.

"Kason! Aye mane, where you fuckers at? I'm hungry as shit."

I heard Kwame's voice coming from downstairs. I fiddled with the idea of letting him find this bitch slumped. Hell, naw, this shit ended tonight. I slid over to the closet and waited for him to come up the steps.

He yelled out a few more times before making his way up the steps. His next words signaled that he found the fool in bedroom one. I aimed my gun awaiting his entrance into the bedroom.

"Kason where you at? Oh, fuck no! Not my brother!"

"Surprise bitch ass fool! Thought your short, dirty mop top ass was invincible? This my fucking city playboy."

POP! POP!

I shot him in the shoulder and thigh. Kwame let off a few rounds in my direction that I side stepped. That fool's aim was an embarrassment to thugs everywhere. I knew he had an empty clip once I heard the trigger go off with no repercussions.

I stood up from behind the dresser and charged over to him pistol whipping his face. I yelled out my frustration and went to town on him like his brother. My hits were deadly and filled with raw emotions.

"You fool! How do you think I pinned down your locations so easily?"

I held my right-hand midair at his statement. That was plaguing me the past few days. This fool seemed to know the right time, and place to hit the apartment, my old crib, and the warehouse detail. My fist landed on the side of his jaw and blood flew from his slightly parted lips.

I sat up and pulled his bloody body with me throwing it to the bed. I nearly tripped over Kason and decided on putting two more bullets into his body. Kwame needed to know that I meant business.

"Talk muthafucka! Better be the truth because these are your last moments on earth."

Kwame spit out a chunk of blood that contained a tooth. He chuckled and wailed in agony.

"Caesar. That mane had it out for you all along and you didn't even know it. He wanted you spooked so bad that you would tuck tail and run."

I wasn't feeling that statement at all. I raised the butt of my gun to strike him again and he pleaded for me not too.

"Talk quicker motherfucker! My patience is wearing thin."

"Okay, okay. The original reason for my visit here was to snuff out that faggot Kalvon for revenge. Then after the warehouse hit went left, I got a call mane." "And muthafucka!"

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I said forcing the gun against his cheek. There was no reason for him to drag this out any longer.

"Your mane Caesar rung me up. Says he needed help getting you out the way."

I know this motherfucker didn't just say what I thought he did? Cease would never put a hit out on my life, would he? The words my father spoke not too long ago were floating through my head right now. Cease and I had recent falling out about pussy and business. To try and take me out?

Hell naw, I wasn't believing it. I started patting this punk fool down for his cell phone. I pulled it from his left side pocket and hit him in the gut. There was no screen lock which was beyond fucking stupid. I scrolled through the call log and saw the number I had memorized by heart so many years ago.

There was a healthy text chat log between Caesar and Kwame as well. I hurled the phone across the room and yelled out in frustration. How the hell did I not see this shit months ago? An unhappy worker is bad. A disgruntled partner is dangerous on a whole other level.

Granted, the texts do not necessarily state Cease wanted me dead. He wanted me spooked enough to just fold and give him my empire. Where the fuck they do that at? I had to tackle one fuck boy at a time. This was not the place for me to do it.

I turned around and put two hot ones in Kwame's head and the clicking of my revolver let me know I was out. Loading a fresh mag for my pistol. I emptied it into his and Kwame's face.

The authorities were going to need dental records to identify these two shitheads. I looked around and retraced my steps doing a quick wipe down of everywhere I had been. You never could be too damn careful. The small package of sanitizer wipes in my side pocket were for more than just removing condoms.

I walked down the steps and out the way I came in closing the door behind me. The street was dead silent and not a soul in sight. I casually strolled to my vehicle and hopped in starting it up immediately.

I pulled my phone from the glove compartment box and powered it on. There were hella missed calls and texts from every damn body. I dialed my clean-up crew and connected the Bluetooth. "Yo, boss, what it do?"

"Petey, I need a clean-up in Oaktown. Those partygoers sprayed the entire upstairs down man."

"Word? How many rooms though?"

"Three, and I think a blow torch is in order, my man. The whole place needs to be remodeled."

"Say no more boss, we on it."

I disconnected the call and felt better about giving the order to burn that murder scene to the ground. I couldn't take any chances that there was shit in there to incriminate me. I also wanted the message out in the streets not to fuck with me. I drove for a few minutes lost inside my own thoughts and then an idea popped into my head. I hit the Bluetooth and recited the number of my intended person. The phone rang about five times and then a sweet voice came through the line. "Sebastian, to what do I owe this honor? You know I ain't fucking with you like that right now."

"Come on now don't be like that. What you up to right now?"

The female caller chuckled in my ear and told me to hold on. She began to speak to someone in her background. I busted a left onto the bridge making my way home. I saw a text alert go off on the dashboard. The words put an instant smile on my face.

"Alright my bad, shit is a bit hectic here. What you want player?"

"Why I got to want something? I could be just calling to chit chat."

The shrieking laughter boomed through my whip, and I had to join in. She was dying on the other end for a few and then cleared her throat.

"Bash Malcolm doesn't chit chat. To suggest that means you want a favor."

I sighed out loud and blew out hot air.

"Girl this is more than a favor. I got a job that requires your special skills beautiful."

"Flattery? Oh, I can't wait to hear this. Talk to me."

I explained the details in depth and silence was what I received. This shit probably came as a surprise to her. I knew what the fuck I was doing though. We finished hashing out the details soon as I pulled up to my home. The security guys were standing on the front lawn smoking a blunt strapped.

I wasn't taking any chances on being caught with my boxers down again. I locked up my vehicle and headed to the front door saluting Buck and Bully. Those two big fools lived for the rush of street life. They would smoke anybody without blinking. Every king needed a few of them on their squad for the dirtiest of jobs.

I went down into the basement and stripped off my clothes throwing them into the steel bin. Walking over to the mantle. I opened my cigar box, pulled out and lit it up. Cubans were a rarity to me.

I indulged whenever a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. I dropped the match into the barrel and watched the flames engulf my clothing. I parked my ass in the recliner seat, welcoming the warmth on my naked skin.

This year had been one for the books. The people in my life had changed for the worst and I was no better. I wanted better from my hustle, marriage and my dysfunctional family. I never took the initiative and just made plans. Look at me now? Sitting assed out in my basement burning evidence in a triple homicide. These days were supposed to be long gone for me. Ordering hits on mufuckas and staking out cribs. This life wasn't for me anymore, but I'll be damned if I walk away with shit in turmoil. The road to retirement was supposed to be easy, or at least it was for normal people.


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