around the deserted lot for anything or anybody out of place. Satisfied, I then checked out the three duffels one last time and slammed the trunk shut. I kept the one with the cash and gave Snell the other two with the bricks. One had coke, the other meth. G was the firepower. We headed to the back door, and there was two niggas standing in the cut, obviously waiting on our arrival and clockin’ our every move.
“Spyder, what up, nigga?” This nigga had a long neck and was skinny as a bean pole. Wali greeted him as if he was a regular there and we were enjoying an evening out on the town.
Spyder hawked and spit in Wali’s face. To my surprise, Wali was cool. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, smiled, and said, “I see somebody ain’t get no pussy last night.”
Spyder then anxiously grabbed the duffel bags and checked their contents. No one bothered to pat us down. Red flag. Gratified, he led the way, while his partner, who looked like a linebacker, took up the rear. My heart was racing. I was anxious to start bustin’ niggas right then and there. But I knew I had to be cool until I got my little man out of harm’s way.
When we got inside the old club, there was this faggot muthafucka, Steele waiting on us, mugged up. Wali did good with his description. He was tall, thin, with sharp, cold eyes. As soon as he spotted Wali, he stood and swiftly drew a shiny Heckler and Koch, one of my favorites, and shot Wali in the leg. Fuck. Everyone drew their weapons. This nigga was precise and I was worried.
Wali stood there screaming, obviously in pain. “Shut up man! You ain’t dead.” Snell yelled at him.
This nigga Steele then had the nerve to calmly take his seat and was now propped up on a leather sofa like he was a fucking don or some shit. His long black dreads with red tips hung loosely over his shoulders. The image of him toking a cigar vexed me as much as the smoke that clouded the room. My son. I had to stay focused. I was here to get my son, I reminded myself.
“You can relax your weapons. Just know that I ain’t done with that scum.” His muscle lowered their weapons, then myself, followed by G and Snell. Wali was still wailing in pain.
“Aiight, we here. I got your shit, now where is my son?” There was no need for formalities.
“Who the fuck is you?” Steele sneered while mean-mugging me as if I gave a fuck. He knew who I was.
“I’m a monster. But today, I come as a father. I just want what belongs to me, my son. And in exchange I’m giving you back what belongs to you,” I said as I patted the duffel bag I was holding and nodded to the two Snell had.
“Oh yeah. I heard about you.” He looked at me with contempt. “Let me see what y’all working with.”
“They already checked the bags at the door. Let me see my son. Your shit is all there.”
The nigga took a minute to size up the situation, and then nodded at the linebacker. There was a door behind him, and when he opened it, a chick came out with my son. He was blindfolded, and they had his hands taped together in front of him. It took everything within my power to not lose control.
“Aiight, you see him, now pass over what belongs to me,” Steele barked.
My nostrils flared up. I took a deep breath, and then unzipped the bag so that he could see the cash. Snell did the same thing.
“I didn’t say show it to me. I said pass what belongs to me over here.”
I didn’t know who the fuck this nigga thought I was, but I wasn’t new to this shit. “Nah, nigga, same time.”
“Dad?” Lil’ Faheem called out, and my knees got weak.
And just as we were getting ready to make the exchange, with shit already tense, Wali’s bitch ass starts to yell. “Y’all niggas are clowns, taking kids and shit!”
Steele rose to his feet, yelling, “Muthafucka, you and that bitch violated me. Do you realize how lucky you are to be breathing right now? You, your sister, and your brothers! You know how much money y’all cost me?”
“Fuck you, nigga!” Wali spat.
This time I pulled out my gat and pressed it against Wali’s temple.