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Authors: Clifford "Spud" Johnson

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BOOK: Carl Weber's Kingpins
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Chapter Twenty-one
King was sitting back in his room chilling, waiting for Tippi to arrive. He was still smiling because he knew for a fact that Shayla was still feeling him. “I'm playin' a dangerous game now,” he said aloud as he thought about Shayla and Tippi.
I shouldn't have never started fuckin' with Tippi's crazy ass. Ain't no way I'm gon' be able to fuck with the both of 'em
.
Tippi would kill Shayla before she would let me kick it with her. Fuck, what was I thinkin' 'bout? I care about Tippi; fuck, I love her ass. I just don't love her like I love Shayla, though. Shit, I don't even know if I'm gon' be able to take Shayla from her nigga any
-
fuckin'
-
way. So why the fuck am I trippin'? I got mine and she got hers, so be it.
He went into the kitchen and was getting himself something to drink when he heard Tippi pull into his driveway. He stepped to the front door and smiled when he saw her sexy tomboy-looking ass climb out of her H2.
Damn, she's fine as fuck,
he thought as he continued to watch her walk toward the front door.
Tippi had a smile on her face as she came into the house and said, “It's all set. That nigga Flex is meeting us on the block for the late night 'round one in the mornin'.”
“Cool. Did you make sure that everybody knows to meet us at the trap? I want everyone there when we expose that nigga.”
“Yeah, Boleg, Cuddy, and Nutta will be there. Have you talked to Keko and Spook?”
King smiled and said, “Yeah, and that nigga is salty for real.”
“He ain't no dummy. You should have known he was gon' figure out you was shakin' his ass to the left.”
“I know, but he's good, though. He told me that he'll handle what needs to be taken care of out that way, but as soon as he gets back home he's gon' be on one for real and I won't be able to tell him a damn thang.”
“So you lied?”
He stared at Tippi for a moment before answering her question. “If Keko still wants to get at 'em niggas when he gets back, then it looks like we gon' have to get at 'em south side niggas. I love that nigga. He's remained loyal to me so I have no choice but to return that loyalty to my nigga.”
“What about Charlie? What 'bout all the work and all of this money? I thought that was the number one priority. You gon' fuck it up for some loyalty bullshit?”
“What other choice do I have? He lost his wifey, Tippi. I can't expect him to fall back and accept some shit like that.”
“True, but you gon' have to find a way to be able to deal wit' this shit in a way that can satisfy Keko's hunger for revenge wit'out pissin' off Charlie at the same time.”
“That's easier said than done. Hopefully I'll be able to come up with somethin'. You know damn well I'm gon' give it my best shot. 'Til then, it's business as usual.”
“I know that's right, and since it's kind of early, we might as well handle some BI right 'bout now,” Tippi said as she pulled off her black wife beater and exposed her firm set of C cups with a smile on her pretty face.
He shook his head and said, “It was a major fuckin' mistake ever givin' your ass some of this dick. You done got sprung on a nigga now.”
As she stepped toward him she said, “Baby, I've been sprung on yo' ass. The love is real, nigga; you and I both know it. Now, come here. I want to suck that dick!”
* * *
King had a satisfied smile on his face as he climbed out of his bed and went to the bathroom. Even though he knew he wasn't in love with Tippi, he loved the way she handled her business in the bedroom.
Shit, she might just could be Wifey,
he thought as he finished relieving himself. He washed his hands and stepped back into the bedroom to see Tippi still sleeping soundly. He stared at her for a minute and smiled again.
Damn, she looks so damn good. Who'd ever believe that she was a damn fool?
He shook his head and said, “Wake up, girl! Time to get some fuckin' work done!”
Tippi opened her eyes and smiled lazily at the only man she truly loved. “Damn, nigga, you could have let me get a li'l more rest, especially after that fuckin' workout.”
“Rest? My number one soldier is supposed to have the stamina to be able to deal with anything. What, you fakin' on me now, Tippi?”
She laughed and threw a pillow at him and said, “Fuck you, fool! You know how I get down. My work speaks for itself.”
“Yeah, well, get your ass dressed so I can watch you earn your money tonight.”
Her smile turned into a determined grin as she said, “You got that.”
When King and Tippi pulled onto the block they saw that everyone who was supposed to be at the trap was there. King noticed Flex's new truck parked right next to Nutta's Dodge Nitro.
I think I'll give that clown's truck to Nutta,
he thought as he climbed out of Tippi's H2. They went inside the trap and saw everyone sitting in the living room, chilling. Boleg, Cuddy, Nutta, and Flex were passing a blunt back and forth among them, getting nice and high.
“What up, my niggas, y'all good?” asked King as he went and joined the group in the living room. Tippi came in behind him and sat down next to Cuddy on the couch, right on the opposite side of where Flex was sitting.
“Everything is everything, my nigga,” replied Cuddy.
“Yeah, we good. What up with you, though?” asked Boleg.
King stared at Nutta for a minute and wondered why his little partner was looking so uncomfortable. “What up, Nutta, you good?”
“Yeah, I'm straight. I . . . I need to holla at you though, King. I may have fucked up a li'l bit.”
King frowned and said, “Holla then.” Nutta then gave everyone a recap of what had gone down at the McDonald's out in Midwest City earlier that day. After he was finished, King asked, “Why in the fuck you didn't get at nobody, Nutta? What was you thinkin' 'bout?”
Nutta shrugged his slim shoulders and said, “I was 'bout to get at you when Tippi called me and told me 'bout this meet here tonight. So I was like fuck it, I'll get at you when I see you. I was still a li'l spooked so I went to the pad and tried to chill and not think 'bout that shit. I'm tellin' you, King, that nigga shouldn't have showed me that heat and didn't use it, dog. That shit got me hot, so I handled up.”
“You did what you was supposed to do, li'l nigga,” said Tippi. “As a matter of fact, I really think it's time we come up with a plan to deal with 'em south side niggas. We got to get 'em out of our fuckin' way for real.”
“Tippi! What the fuck did we just finish talkin' 'bout earlier? That shit ain't gon' happen right now, so kill it!”
“I know what we spoke on, nigga. Remember, I was the one tryin' to look at the bigger picture. But that was before I knew that those fools did some more goofy shit with one of ours. There has to be a way to deal with 'em niggas wit'out fuckin' up everything else. It looks like we gon' have to do somethin', 'cause these niggas ain't fadin' away, King.”
King stared at Flex and asked him, “What you think 'bout that, Flex? You think we can move 'em niggas wit'out fuckin' up our ends?”
Tippi smiled as she stared at Flex.
Flex thought about King's question for a second before answering. “On the real, anythang is possible. But I think the best way to deal with 'em niggas is to go for the kill shot on our first move. Knock the head off and the body falls.”
“Real talk. But how can we get that close to that nigga? It ain't like he not knowin' 'bout us.”
Flex smiled and said, “I think I can take care of that part, my nigga.”
“Yeah, how?”
“Remember I told you 'bout that broad I was fuckin' with who plugged me wit' 'em crackas and shit?”
King shot a glance toward Tippi and answered, “Yeah, but what does that got to do wit' this shit?”
“One of 'em crackas I be servin' used to get his work from one of 'em south side niggas. He told me that they work is just as tight as ours. Anyway, we got to choppin' it up one night and he told me that he was damn near positive that our work came from the same peeps. I thought he was on some smoker shit, but somethin' told me to check this shit out. Don't ask me why, I just did. So I shot him some shit like, I'm tryin' to get a new plug and come up on my own and asked him if he could hook me up wit' 'em south side niggas. I even told the broad who hooked me up with the crackas that I was 'bout to do me and if she wanted to continue to ride wit' me she should convince that fool to help me get in wit' 'em niggas from the south. That was a week or so ago. It's been poppin' so hard that I haven't had the time to push that shit any further, though. But now I see how we can use that shit to our advantage.”
“I can't believe that nigga, Flamboyant, gets down like that. Servin' his own shit makes him an easy target for real,” said King.
“You never know, that nigga just may be on some sucka shit like that,” said Boleg.
“Nah, I don't think he gets down like that. I told the cracka that if I got down wit' the fool I wouldn't fuck with no flunkies. He told me that he only dealt with the second in charge, some nigga they call Prince. If he could hook me up wit' that nigga then it shouldn't be too hard for me to get in wit' the other nigga. Then we can do 'em both,” Flex said as he relit the blunt that had gone out while they were discussing the termination of Flamboyant and Prince.
King stared at Tippi and they both started laughing.
“What the fuck is wrong with y'all? Y'all act like y'all been smokin' some of this good shit too,” Cuddy said as he inhaled deeply on the blunt Flex had passed to him.
Before either of them could speak, King's cell started ringing. He checked the caller ID and saw that it was Shayla. He smiled as he checked the time on his watch and saw that it was close to two in the morning.
Hmm, this gots to be some good news,
he thought as he answered with, “What up?”
“We need to talk.”
Staring directly at Tippi he asked, “When and where?”
“Tomorrow, Tony Roma's on Meridian. I'll be there no later than one,” Shayla said seriously.
“See you then,” he said and ended the call.
“Say, King, what was this meetin' supposed to be 'bout? I'm missin' mad money. I gots to go do me,” said Nutta.
“Yeah, we been here for damn near an hour and we still haven't gotten to your shit yet. What's up, King?” asked Boleg.
“I wanted to touch base wit' my niggas, that's all. Tippi felt it was best that we got together to make sure that we were all on the same page,” he lied. “Now, tell me, how's thangs lookin' wit' the work? Y'all good or do I need to make that call and get us stocked properly?”
“We're gettin' low on the bud,” Cuddy said with a high-ass smile on his face.
“And it looks like we're goin' to need some more water, too. 'Em young niggas been actin' a fool for that shit over in the North Highlands,” added Boleg.
“How's the yay holdin' up?” Tippi asked.
“We're good for the time bein'. Check wit' me in a day or so, though,” said Flex.
“A'ight, then, y'all go on and do you. Be safe and get at me tomorrow some time. Flex, get on that shit and get back at me wit' what you come up wit'. It looks like we're definitely goin' to have to move on 'em south niggas.”
“Gotcha,” Flex said as he got to his feet.
“Before y'all bounce, y'all niggas need to leave the seventh open 'cause we gon' do it real big for this nigga's birthday this year. I've hooked it up for us to have his party at Déjà Vu. So make sure y'all get real flossy wit' it 'cause it's gon' be on and crackin',” Tippi said with a smile on her face.
“Is that right? I'm wit' that shit. Fuck, we ain't did no shit like that since Cuddy's party last year,” said Nutta.
“I know, it's 'bout time we clowned a li'l bit,” added Boleg.
“Yeah, I'm wit' that,” Cuddy replied.
“Me too,” said Flex.
“A'ight, then, y'all. I'll holla,” King said as he and Tippi left the trap. When they were back inside Tippi's truck they both started laughing again. They laughed so hard that tears fell from their eyes. “That would have been real fucked up if you would have done that nigga, Tippi.”
“It wouldn't have been on me, nigga. That shit was your call, not mines!” Shaking her head from side to side she said, “You and that damn baby mama of yo's. She damn near got that nigga Flex wig split for nothin'.”
“I know, huh? Damn.”
“You might as well send for Keko and Spook. Ain't no need for 'em niggas to be way out West when it's 'bout to go down out here.”
“You right, and Keko loves to get his floss on like everybody else.”
“I doubt flossin' is gon' be on that nigga's mind once he touches back down.”
“You're right.”
“Let's get back to your spot. I'm tryin' to get back to sleep,” Tippi said as she started her truck and pulled off the block. As they were headed toward King's home, his thoughts were of Shayla. He had a funny feeling that shit was about to get thick. Some major decisions were about to get made concerning his relationship with Tippi and Shayla.
Damn, it's hard bein' the King!
Chapter Twenty-two
Shayla tossed and turned all night. After getting maybe a couple hours of sleep, she climbed out of bed and showered. After she was dressed she left the house and made a beeline directly to Taj's home. After ringing the doorbell repeatedly, Taj finally came to the door, screaming, “What the fuck are you ringin' my doorbell like you crazy for, fool! It's fucking eight o'clock in the fuckin' mornin', Shayla!”
Shayla ignored her and walked right past her and into the house. She plopped herself down on Taj's cream-colored sofa and said, “I think I still love Trevor.”
“What else is fuckin' new? You came over here to wake me up for that shit? Girl, you must have lost your damn mind! You know damn well I'm no good to you or the world until after ten o'clock!”
“Come on, Taj, this is serious. I don't know what to do. Here I am still in love with my ex, while I'm involved with Marco. This shit ain't right.”
“It ain't right, but it's life. Shit happens.”
“I can't hurt Marco, girl. I just can't.”
“Sooner or later you're going to have to make a decision. If you continue to be with Marco then you're only prolonging the inevitable. You may be doing more harm than good by staying with him. Sit Marco down and explain that you're still in love with Trevor and that it has nothing to do with him; it's all about you and how you're feeling.”
“And you think he'll accept it that easily? Girl, that nigga gon' go ballistic on my ass!”
“I didn't say he would like what you've told him, but he would at least respect your honesty. A nigga like Marco hates to be played, more than anything. At least this way he can save face in the situation.”
“Marco adores me, Taj. I can't do him like that. He hasn't done a damn thing to deserve some shit like this, but here I am actually thinking about doing this to him. He's treated me like a damn queen and look how I'm going to repay him. This is really fucked up.”
“You're going to have to do something. Look, while you sit there and decide who will be your future mate in life, I'm about to go back to bed. Wake me up around eleven. No, make it twelve.”
“All right. I'm having lunch with Trevor at one.”
“Lunch?”
“Mmm hmm. I have to talk to him before I make my decision. I'm hoping he's not feeling me; that'll make my decision that much easier.”
Shaking her head no, Taj told her best friend, “No, it wouldn't. If anything, that would make you want that nigga even more.”
Shayla slapped her hand to her forehead, lay back on the sofa, and softly moaned, “I know.”
* * *
Flamboyant got dressed a couple of hours after Shayla left, and went to meet Prince at his home. Prince was waiting for him to arrive. They went to their main trap on the south side and collected the money that was made the previous evening. After they picked up the cash they went back to Prince's house to make sure the count was correct. Today was re-up day, and that meant today was going to be hectic for Flamboyant. He was going to have to make sure everything was right; then he was going to be constantly moving around town, picking up and dropping off their new batch of works. Flamboyant hated days like this. All he really wanted to do today was scoop up Shayla and take her somewhere to hang out. He smiled as he thought about his girl.
I'm 'bout to make her a very happy woman,
he thought as he watched Prince put the last stack of money into his Louis Vuitton duffel bag.
“That's it, dog, the rest is on you,” Prince said as he relaxed back in his chair in front of the dining room table.
Flamboyant pulled out his cell and called Toni. When Toni answered he said, “I'm ready.”
“Good. Meet me at Mickey Mantle's in an hour. We'll have an early lunch, on me.”
“Cool,” Flamboyant replied as he hung up the phone. He smiled at his right-hand man and said, “Everything is everything. Did you take care of that thang for me yet?”
“Yeah, Mista Tricky, I got you. You love that broad for real, huh?”
“Wit' all of my heart, nigga, wit' all of my heart. When will it be ready? I want Shayla's birthday to be the best one she's ever had wit' me.”
“The dealership in Dallas told me that it'll be here on the seventh, just like you wanted. I'm havin' it delivered over here.”
“Right. I'll have you drop it off at my spot some time that night. I want my babe to wake up and see her brand new BMW 355i parked in our driveway. She's been lightweight sweatin' me for a new car for a minute now. What 'bout the party? Have you taken care of that, too?”
“Come on, Flam, when have I not taken care of the shit you ask me to take care of? Everything is good, dog. The caterer has already hooked up wit' 'em New York niggas, so the food is a go. I also told 'em East Coast fools to see if they could get Jim Jones to come perform that night. They told me they didn't think that would be a problem. I've gotten at all of the team, so they already know what time it is for the seventh. We're good.”
“That's straight. Shayla loves that nigga Jim Jones's shit so it'll be a perfect night for my wifey. Just fuckin' perfect. Let me roll. I'll get at you when I'm ready to drop.”
“I'll be ready,” Prince assured him.
* * *
Shayla arrived at the restaurant ten minutes after one on purpose. She had hoped to piss King off a little before she arrived. When she walked into the restaurant and saw a smile on his handsome face she knew she'd failed at her attempt at getting him angry. After she was seated King said, “What up, Shay, you good?”
Sighing heavily she said, “Actually I'm not. Let me get right to it. What do you want from me? Sex? Do you just want to hit it again for old times' sake or do you want something more?”
Trevor smiled confidently and asked her, “What do you want, Shay?”
She frowned. “Stop it, Trevor, this isn't funny and it damn sure ain't a game! Answer my question!”
“A'ight. I want what I've always wanted, Shay: you. I love you, Shayla, always have and I always will.”
“Then why did you do me the way you did me when you went to prison? Why? I would have waited forever for you!”
“I already answered that question, Shay. Blame it on a nigga not wantin' to take a chance on gettin' his heart broke.”
“That's so damn wrong. You can be so selfish at times.”
He gave her that confident smile again and asked, “But you still love me, right?”
She stared at him before answering him. “I'm really not sure. I know I still care deeply for you. And I know that fact will never change. We've been through too much for me to sit here and say that I don't care about you.”
“Care? Fuck care! I didn't say shit 'bout no damn care! I asked you if you still loved me, Shay. Now answer the question.”
“Yes. Yes, I still love you. But you and I both know that there's a difference between being in love and just plain old loving a person. I can't honestly say if I'm still in love with you, Trevor.” Before he could say a word she raised her hand and continued, “Please don't try to force that answer out of me. I'm going to need some time to think about all of this.”
“Think about what? You still love me so you can't be all in love with that nigga you wit'. If you was, you wouldn't be here right now. Come on, you know don't no nigga in this world know you better than I do. You're here 'cause I've been on your mind nonstop, just as much as you've been on mine. Stop wastin' time so we can go on and do this.”
“Do what? What are we going to do, Trevor, if I do decide to be with you? How is it going to be? I move in with you and live the life of a baller's wifey? Or are you willing to make that major commitment and wife me for real? Are you willing to do that, Mr. Big Time?”
Whoa!
He sat in silence while everything she said to him digested.
“Ahh, so the cat has your tongue, huh? Well, while you're sitting over there pondering my words, let me give you something else to think about. If, and I do mean if, I do decide to be with you again the only way it's going to work is if I'm Mrs. King. I'm turning twenty-six in a few weeks and I don't have time to be wasting sitting around being the girlfriend of the town's big baller. It's either wife me or nothing whatsoever, Mr. King.”
He smiled and said, “You do still love a nigga! You got to if you wanna be Wifey.”
She shook her head and said, “Didn't you hear anything I just told you? God! I swear, you still can get on my last damn nerves if you want to. If! If! If! ‘If I decide' does not mean I'm going to be your wife, Trevor!”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I love when you call me by my government name. You are the only person I let get away wit' that shit. Tippi be tryin' to say it on the slick and I be havin' to check her ass. But, for some reason, I've always allowed you to get away wit' that. Why do you think I let that happen?”
“I dunno, why?”
He stared directly in her brown eyes and said, “Because I've never loved a woman the way I love you, Shay. I've loved you ever since the first day I met you. I know that's some corny shit, but it's true so fuck it. We have history, Shay. We've shared each other's pain over the years. We've been there for each other when no one else was. This is meant to be, you know it just as well as I do. So it's not on me right about now, Shay; it's all 'bout you. 'Cause I don't have a problem makin' you Mrs. King. Real talk!”
Shayla was sipping a glass of water and damn near spit a mouthful of water all over him. She grabbed a napkin, wiped her mouth, and said, “I'm going to need some time to think about this, Trevor. Please don't rush me. Give me some space.”
“I'll give you all the time you need, baby. I ain't going nowhere. You must have forgot, I'm the King in this town.”
She shook her head and watched him as he signaled for the waiter to come to their table. After they gave their orders she asked, “Why didn't anyone come to us sooner?”
That confident smile returned as he said, “When the King speaks, his subjects listen!” He laughed. “Nah, I told 'em I'd let 'em know when we were ready to order. I knew this shit was gon' be deep and I didn't want us to be disturbed.”
“You've matured, Trevor. I like that. I like the fact that you seemed to have grown in a positive way. Back in the day you would have never thought of something as simple as that. You would have been rude and tried to bully the situation and basically act like a complete asshole.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“But you liked that shit, too, huh?”
She started laughing and answered him honestly. “Yeah!” They started laughing as the waiter returned with their order of ribs and French fries.
As they were finishing their meal, King received a call on his cell. “What's up, Charlie?”
“We need to talk. I just got back in town and I've been informed that there's been some more violence out in the streets.”
“Contrary to what people think, Oklahoma City is a violent spot, Charlie. You really need to be more specific.”
“Don't fuck with me, King! You want specifics? All right, have your ass at the Elephant Bar in twenty!”
He stared at his phone after Charlie had hung up on him.
Fuck!
“Check it, Shay, I got to roll out. Some shit has come up. Get at me when you know what's what. I ain't goin' nowhere.” Before she could say a word, he slid out of his seat, came to her side of the table, and gave her a quick kiss on her lips. “Don't you ever forget that we were born to be together.”
She stared into his brown eyes and nodded. Just as he was about to walk away she grabbed his hand and said, “That reminds me, what are you getting into for your birthday?”
He laughed and said, “Probably party like it's 1999; ain't no tellin' wit' the King. Now let me go. I'll holla.”
She sat back in her seat and munched on a French fry and watched King leave the restaurant. As she sat there thinking about what her next move was going to be she prayed that God would guide her in the right direction. “God, help me, please!”
BOOK: Carl Weber's Kingpins
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