Nine Lives: For the Love of Money (3 page)

Before going on any further, I know you are wondering the details on how all of this happened regarding Boogie and my incarceration.

Let, me put it into perspective for you.

It all started in an attempt to settle the rising tensions between Boogie, Infinity and
The Overseers. 
I devised a
scheme
which involved plying Infinity with liquor to find out where Hoover, the crew's leader, lived in order to execute him before he decided to execute us. In doing so, I messed around by getting drunk and literally fucking Infinity’s ass.

I woke up the next day with a soaking wet pussy. It hurt me to my heart that I failed the mission put in place not only to help me but Boogie but I never had so many orgasms in one setting. Let’s just say, I had another round even when sober. His package was just right. So right that my earlier reservations were gone well until it was time to go home and face the music with my brother.

Upon leaving I chastised myself something terrible. I had one job to do and that was to get an address. Trust me when I say it was never intended for Infinity and I to become intimate. I wondered if Boogie would flip and look at me in a different light. My goodness, I wondered if he would tell Persia? He was sometimes spiteful so there wasn’t really any telling what he would do. In this matter his presumed actions were unpredictable. Little beads of sweat formed on my forehead and I fretted all the way home.

I know you are asking yourself, why would I go and tell him. Well, I tried not to keep any secrets from my big bro.

I, seriously, blamed the alcohol. When that Jack Daniel hit the system, fuck Hennessey, my draws usually come flying off. When the draws did come off, I can’t stop the heat from rising between my legs. Boogie stopped speaking to me for months until he found out I was pregnant. The pregnancy seemed to cool off his steam so to speak. I was grateful.

Dorah Margarete pronounced Mar-sha-rete was born healthy. My family gushed over her perfect being.

My Dorah also turned out to be a blessing in disguise; also the apple in her father and Uncle's eyes. To the point they would argue over who would take her to the park next. I was in awe of her power and beauty in bringing these two bull headed men together in a truce, peaceful type of situation.

I loved everything about her from the wild curly hair on top of her head, little button nose and small precious feet yet I loved her little excursions with either man in our lives.

Those excursions allowed me to break free to unwind or go see my shorty.

I had a new love since my old girl Persia was gone. She broke up with me when I told her about the baby I was carrying.

That was until our brief unspoken truce we arrived at when I came out of my building in the East New York section of Brooklyn only to find her sitting on my car.

Realizing how much I missed her, I put a little pep in my step, damn near breaking into a run, just to get close to her.

"Slow down little bit, don't hurt yourself," she instructed me.

"I won't P. Tell me what's good on your side?" I said in response to her statement.

"I was in the area and figured I'd stop by to check on you and my baby," she said then playfully shoulder bumped me.

"So you are the daddy now?" I asked her.

"Yep, sure am," she chuckled, "how about you take a stroll with me?

"Can't. I have to get to my ob/gyn. Matter of fact, I'm running a little behind schedule. I'm so excited for this visit today. I need to get a move on it; I get to hear the baby's heartbeat again today.

I also get to find out what I'm having although I swore to myself I'd wait and let God surprise me when I gave birth. That is exactly why I’m finding out at six months and not four and a half months.

If you want you can feel free to tag along," I said going around to the driver's side of my big body Benz.

"Don't mind if I do," was Persia's reply.

Instantly, upon hearing her tone of voice, I could tell, even though she was tagging along, she was still hurt behind my actions which caused my pregnancy.

For many nights, I would ring her phone once then hang up. Always wishing I could've told her my pregnancy was all a part of a bigger plan to bring down a powerful crew straight out of Brooklyn.

I felt the need for Persia to know me becoming pregnant was really a mistake. One I never thought would happen and one that wouldn't happen again, if we decided to be exclusive with each other.

Figuring the time wasn't right, I reached over and stroked her face, removing flyaway wisps of hair in the process.

"You're still the prettiest girl I know," I told her, "Well besides my caramel ass.”

We both cracked up laughing. I continued to stroke her face talking ever so gently.

"On the real tip P, I missed your ass. What have you been up to? Have you found someone new to take my place?" I asked her, bombarding her with question. Even though in my heart knowing if she said yes there was another person who had taken my place, my feelings would be hurt. They would most likely be beyond repair.

A few awkward seconds, which felt like an eternity turned into a sense of relief as she responded, "Never!" to the question that was presented toward her.

Grabbing her hand, we continued the rest of the drive in silence.

I felt an urgency to be with her more. Knowing she still cared for me in the midst of me getting pregnant by a male rival, really meant something to me.

Then a thought hit me, "What if this bitch was out doing her own dirt? Wouldn't a true lesbian be hurt that they could never me what a dude could?"

"Hmm" I whispered underneath my breath hoping she didn’t hear me. Unable to fathom the thought, my head started spinning, my mouth became dry as cotton and my heart started to palpitate like never before.

Feeling like I was the one betrayed, I let go of her hand and smiled at her cynically.  Noticing a shift in my mood she turned to me and said, "Is everything okay lil bit?"

As I opened my mouth to lie by saying everything was fine, a green sedan came out of nowhere crashing into the passenger side door.

My car was pushed more than several feet out of the way.

I peeked over at Persia, noticing the blood seeping from her mouth while her head was tipped over.

"Persia, P-baby, are you okay?" I asked her frantically.

After a few seconds pause and not getting any response, I tried to get out of the car.

That's when I realized my feet were pinned under the car's dashboard.

"Dammit," I yelled, "P, P- baby don't do this."

It was at this moment I noticed a female dressed in all black, except for her belt and heels, which were a metallic color, heading in our direction. Her long, neat dreads swung from side to side. They were auburn in color and it seemed she placed three shells strategically in the front. Watching her speed up towards us I began thanking God for sending such a beautiful vessel to help save us from the rubble which was once my car.

I tried to rouse Persia, once again, who I prayed was only sleeping.

"Persia, someone is coming to help us. Just hold on a bit longer, she's almost here," I informed her reassuringly.

Feeling anxious knowing someone was going to assist us, I totally missed the black automatic handgun the supposed good Samaritan held until it was too late.

She raised her hand into the broken passenger side window, firing two shots simultaneously into Persia's head.

"That's what happens when you cross
The Overseers
bitch," came her eerie words.

My heart dropped as I reached over to check if Persia had a pulse, I noticed our assailant raise her hand again. Immediately my reflexes and instinct to survive kicked in. I raised my right arm to shield my face and head from her gun's bullet while trying frantically to open my car door to try and drag myself to safety.

The assailant fired a shot, narrowly missing me, she said, "Damn bitch, either my aim's off or you got nine lives."

I screamed out, "Please don't do this. I'm pregnant."

"Nah fuck you and your pumpkin headed seed. Why didn't you and Boogie just take us up on our offer? This could have all been avoided had you done as requested. Now your bitch dead and you will soon be too. Whelp unlike you I have an assignment to complete," she said.

While I sent up a silent prayer for survival the assailant raised her arm to fire again. She did; she missed again. She raised her arm a third time to fire but the gun's clip needed to be changed.

"Fuck, this is some dumb ass shit. How do you send a killer with half a clip on an assignment? I swear these bitches are loco," she stated as she frantically fumbled inside her bra for what I thought had to be another clip.

"Bingo," she said, as I saw I was right, as she pulled a clip from her bra.

My heart and stomach lurched at the same time. As the old magazine clip hit the floor we heard sirens in the background.

"Shit, damn, I have to move faster," she said to no one in particular.

Again I frantically tried to open my door as I saw this mad woman wasn't giving up until she murdered me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her arm raise again.

This time I knew I was a goner. I sent up a prayer, "Father God, I thank you for the life, family and years on earth you gave me,"

Bam, the first shot hit my knee cap. Bam, bam the second and third shot hit my arm and hand as I tried to shield my face again.

"Damn bitch die already," she screamed as we could both now see the cop cars in the distance.

The assailant fired one more time as she started to kick off her stilettos and then ran towards the car that crashed into us.

I gasped as she snatched her dreads off of her head showcasing a head full of luxurious hair.

That's when I saw her male accomplice. He looked familiar. All I could make out a silhouette.

"Dammit, he looks like Creshawn!" I exclaimed to myself not knowing an officer, who was sneaking up around the back of the car heard me.

"Ms. hands on the steering wheel," he shouted. I did as I was instructed.

"Driver, what's your name?" he asked while removing the gun from his holster.

"Officer, I'm wounded; please call an ambulance," I pleaded with him.

Right when I was about to beg him again to call an ambulance he pushed his job issued gun into the side of my face.

"You could be deaf, dumb or dying and I still wouldn't give a fuck. Now what is your fucking name?"

"Devine Hunt," I told him with my voice shaking terribly from fear the assailant would return.

The officer handcuffed me to the wheel and radioed into dispatch, "Yea, seems we have a situation. I need a name of  Devine Hunt run through the system."

After a moment or so dispatch responded my name was clear.

The officer then requested an ambulance, turned to me and said, "Well, well, well, I guess it's your lucky day after all. The ambulance is on their way to assist you."

While waiting other officers arrived on the scene, I drifted in and out of consciousness.

I became somewhat alert when I heard the officers making fun of my girl Persia.

"Looks like we have a live one here," the officer chuckled.

I became more incensed when the manly looking, female officer said, "You mean one dead bitch."

I managed to mumble in a tone they were able to hear, "Fucking pigs, don't know their head from their asshole."

The female officer walked around to the driver's side door, sticking her hand through the window, she menacingly applied pressure to one of my wounds.

"Fucking what?" she stated as the ambulance pulled up to the scene.

"Thomas, Thomas, that's enough. We've got company," the black, slim built, officer in a white shirt commanded.

The paramedics came to my aid while asking question.

"Is the shooter still on the scene?" the strawberry blonde emergency medical technician asked.

"We are trying to ascertain if she's the perpetrator or not ma'am.”

They put an oxygen mask on me, proceeded to ask the police if the scene was secure and were there any more victims. When told there wasn't an active shooter in the vicinity but one dead victim, one emergency medical technician went to check while the other one started wheeling me to the ambulance.

"Yep, D.O.A., let's go Norton” the ambulance driver said as I realized I had a deep seated hatred for those meant to serve the public. I found them rude and obnoxious, not thinking they were flawed humans even though they wore a uniform. They weren’t any different than you and I and I was ready to give them an ass whooping as well, but first I needed to recuperate.

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