“You ho ass nigga. Will you shut the fuck up! This nigga got my fucking kid! Are you out of your fucking mind?” I gritted.
“Faheem, fuck that pussy. That’s why we took his shit! If it wasn’t my nephew, he wouldn’t have gotten shit back!”
What did he say that for? The Heckler and Koch reared its ugly head again and this time, Steele shot Wali right in the middle of his forehead. I knew he was dead before his body hit the cold concrete. I jumped back right on time. G was a little late because he got splashed with brains and blood.
“Uncle Wali!” Lil’ Faheem yelled out. The broad wouldn’t let him go as he squirmed to get away.
Steele and his cronies started laughing.
There was nothing funny to me. And, that was the last straw because that’s when my son cried out, “Daddy! Help me! Daddy!” At that point, it was over for me. I lost it.
“Hold the fuck up! Can we finish this business? I am here for my son!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. I must have made the muthafuckin’ concrete shake, because niggas got quiet, real quick. “Now, look. I ain’t got no beef with you, man. I ain’t got shit to do with what they took from you. If you want to kill the whole damn family, you got my blessing. Shit, I was planning on doing them myself. But right now, the only thing I’m concerned with is my son. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even be here.”
Steele stood there taking in what I was saying. Finally, he asked, “How I know you weren’t down with them?”
“I never heard your name until a few days ago. I don’t run with them, you know that.”
Steele placed his finger up to his lips as he studied me. Then he said, “Dig, if I ever find out that you was with these muthafuckas, I’ma give you what he got.” He glared at me. “Now, set my shit on the table.” Me and Snell picked up the bags and did what we were told. “And you!” He pointed to the girl. “Release his son.”
They took the blindfold off and shoved Lil’ Faheem towards me with the force of a professional wrestler. Once I got him in my arms, I breathed a sigh of relief but I was still tense as fuck. Then I heard, “That nigga about to start poppin’ shit off!” Who? Next thing I knew we were in the middle of a real gun fight. As bullets started flying, I felt a hot slug pierce my shoulder, and I flew backward damn near tumbling over a table. With a burning sensation enflaming my shoulder until it was virtually numb, I managed to muster the strength to squeeze my gat and let off a few rounds. The sound of bullets merged with the rapid fire of loud claps consumed the atmosphere. Then I hit the ground, covering my little man with my body and I could see niggas ducking and sparks flying through clouds of gun smoke.
When the smoke cleared, I rolled off of Lil’ Faheem onto my back. The pain in my shoulder wouldn’t let me move. My ears were ringing. I stared up at the ceiling for a minute. “You alright, lil’ man? Daddy’s here for you.” I felt for his hand as I looked around to see who was standing and who wasn’t.
“Fah, you aiight, nigga?” I heard Snell ask as he made his way over to where I was.
“Who started poppin’ off first? And did we dead all of them muthafuckas?” That’s what I really wanted to know.
“Spyder is down, but Steele and the bitch got away. They got the bags.”
“Fuck them bags! We gotta get out of here. I’m hit in my shoulder. Help me up so I can get little man in the car.” When I looked down at my son, my worst fear had surfaced. He was bleeding from a wound in his head, and his body was limp. I started calling him and shaking his arm. “Faheem. Faheem. Get up! Daddy’s here, and he’s not going to let anyone else take you away from him.” I tilted his head back and tried to give him mouth-to-mouth, but deep down, I knew it was too late.
“He gone, Fah. We got to get the fuck outta here,” G said as he bent down and gently placed his hand on my shoulder.