Payback With Ya Life (2 page)

“You don’t want me to stay? Why do I feel like this is a trick?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not.” Her stomach was cramping. “You got my car, and here, take my cell. I’ll call you when I’m ready.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she was in pain.

CHAPTER TWO

J
anay was livid as she headed to see her dad, Big Choppa, the number one dope runner in Memphis and the one who had groomed her for the game. His bodyguard, Boomer, was sitting on the porch when she pulled up. Boomer stood six feet three inches, at three hundred forty pounds with no neck, and was black as tar. The whitest thing on him was his eyeballs and the prettiest was his teeth. He had been Choppa’s bodyguard and right-hand man ever since she could remember.

“Boomer,” Janay spoke as she climbed the front porch. He grunted, but the way he looked at her always made her feel exposed. Those eyes . . . his eyes seemed as if they were piercing her mind, reading her innermost thoughts. Other than that she loved him to death. When everyone else feared him, he was like her second father. Yes, his bite was most definitely meaner than his bark but he had nothing but love and loyalty for Big Choppa and his family. She quickly turned her head and eased the front door open. She took a deep breath before stepping inside.

She found Big Choppa relaxing in his La-Z-Boy, chin on his chest, appearing to be sound asleep. She knew he wasn’t because he always slept very lightly. His bald head was shining in the dimly lit room. Old age and liver cancer were definitely taking their toll on her father. He had gone from a robust and healthy two hundred sixty pounds to a sickly one hundred seventy in less than six months.

He ignored old age and the liver cancer, continuing to hustle as if the hands of time were standing still or even pushed back to twenty years ago. Big Choppa wasn’t hearing of getting out of the game. As a matter of fact, every time Janay would bring up the subject of chilling he would fuss her out.

The aroma of a down-South breakfast of catfish, eggs and grits filled the air. Big Choppa’s favorite meal. Sure enough, as her gaze traveled to the tray next to the La-Z-Boy there was a plate with the remains of catfish bones, dried egg yolk and traces of grits. The hot sauce bottle was missing its top. The tall orange juice glass was almost empty.

Janay drew back the heavy olive drapes, giving some light to the dim living room. She stuck her fingers into the soil of several of the houseplants before getting the vase to give them some water.

“What I tell you ’bout messin’ with my plants, Nay?” Big Choppa’s voice boomed.

“They’re very dry, Daddy. If I didn’t mess with your plants they would have been dead a very long time ago.” They had this exact same conversation every time she came over.

“And why you gotta be openin’ my drapes?”

Janay ignored him as she busied herself cleaning up his dishes and straightening up the living room. His oldest daughter was the spittin’ image of her mother: her doe eyes, long slender frame, dark flawless complexion. Today she even had her long hair pulled into a bun, just the way her mother had worn hers. Janay’s biological mother passed away when Janay was five. She suffered from the same disease as Choppa. From then on Big Choppa’s girlfriend Ida stepped up and had been playing the mother role ever since. The whole family referred to her as Mom. After watching Janay go back and forth for twenty minutes he wanted to know what was up.

“What’s botherin’ you, Nay? You ain’t over here to just clean up.”

“You feel up to riding with me to check on the traps?”

He shook his head no and motioned to the front door. “Take Boomer with you. And what I tell you about callin’ ’em traps? You’re going to business establishments, not no corners.”

“Daddy, please. Since when did dope houses become business establishments? They’re traps. Niggas buying dope, niggas sellin’ dope and niggas like us coming to collect the money. That’s a trap. Now come on, Daddy,” she whined. “I want you to ride with me.”

“If there’s somethin’ you want to talk about, spit it out. Shit, girl, what I tell you about that?”

“It’s personal, Daddy.” Her voice trembled. “And it’s not that easy to spit out.”

“It’s easy if you just go on and say it.” Janay flopped onto the couch, and the tears came streaming down. “Aww, girl, what’s the matter? You pregnant?”

“No,” she sobbed.

“You and Shadee fighting again?” When she didn’t respond, he shook his head. “Did that lil’ negro put his hands on you?”

“No, Daddy.” She was now crying harder. Shadee was no doubt the love of her life. They shared a son, Marquis, and had been together for the past six years. She was wifey. Every bitch knew it and respected that . . . except for Brianna. He wouldn’t leave that gold-digging bitch alone for nothing in the world. She remembered the first time she had followed Shadee over to her house; his excuse was that she was holding his dope. What could she say? Brianna had been a thorn in her side ever since. But when she brought her ass over to Janay’s house looking as if she had been smoking crack all night, that was it. Then when Brianna went on and put Shadee on blast saying that he had asked to marry her, that was the last straw. She went on and told Brianna, “Kill that nigga!” Janay had then stormed out the house and sped over to Big Choppa’s.

“Nay! Don’t lie to me. Now, tell me, did that nigga put his hands on you?” Choppa belted out once again.

“No, Daddy, he didn’t. I wish he would have. An ass-whooping would be easier to deal with. Listen, Daddy, you can’t tell nobody . . . not even Miss Ida, what I’m about to tell you. Okay?”

“Girl, if you don’t say what it is you got to say, I’ma—”

“Daddy, this is serious. You gotta promise me you won’t say anything,” she cut him off. “Swear on Mommy’s grave, Daddy.”

Choppa rolled his eyes in disgust. “Girl, I’m the parent. Spit it out girl, damn.”

“Dad, Shadee got that monkey.”

“He what?”

“He is HIV-infected.”

“My God! Nay . . . what about you? Don’t tell me—”

“I don’t know. I already made an appointment to get tested. We really hadn’t been doing anything and I don’t even know how long he’s had it. He wouldn’t tell me,” she cried.

“I’ma break that nigga in two. So you’re tellin’ me y’all ain’t been doin’ it? Who has he been fuckin’ since y’all ain’t been doin’ shit? Who did he get that shit from? He had to have got it from somebody!” Choppa was trying his best to get to the bottom of the story.

Janay squeezed her eyes shut. “I . . . I caught him . . .” she sobbed.

“You caught him with some bitch? Good then. I’m sorry, baby, but dammit to hell they deserve each other.”

“Daddy, I caught him going up in his boy Doc.”

“What!” Big Choppa yelled. “Going up in his boy?” He needed a few moments for that to register. “Awww damn! Hell naw, you tellin’ me this nigga is a fruitcake? A homo thug-ass nigga? Awww, Nay Nay, tell me it ain’t so,” he pleaded. “And . . . he passed that shit on to my baby?” Choppa was looking at Janay, hoping and praying that she was getting ready to say no.

“I have to get tested first, Daddy.”

“This is some fucked-up shit.” Choppa jumped out of his La-Z-Boy. “Oh that nigga gone tell me how long he’s been fuckin’ faggots in the ass. He got an old head like me fucked up,” he mumbled as he headed for the stairs, leaving Janay wanting a hug from her father.

“Daddy, you can’t be getting your blood pressure all up,” she called after him. “Ain’t shit we can do about it now . . . but deal with it. So chill out. Have you taken your medicine today?”

“Don’t try to sidetrack me.” He was fussing all the way up the stairs and was still fussing as he was coming back down. “The nigga should of thought about whose daughter he was fuckin’. After I finish with him he ain’t gonna fuck nothin’ else.”

“Daddy, stop it.”

“I’ma stop it all right. I’ma break his ass in two then cut off his dick and stop it up in his ass. They don’t call me Choppa for nothing. And let me find out he done gave my baby that shit. I’ma bury that nigga and then pull his ass up, kill him and bury him again. Get him on the phone, Janay. Find out where he is. Boomer!” he yelled out.

The front door flew open. “I’m right here, Chop.” He had an ugly scowl on his face. He knew from the tone of Choppa’s voice that something wasn’t right.

“We gotta make a run. I told you to call that boy, Nay. Get his faggot ass on the phone.”

“Daddy! You promised you would keep this between us. Excuse us, Boomer.” Boomer peered at Janay, then at Choppa, and slowly backed out the front door. Janay turned to her father. “You promised, Daddy.”

“You promised for me. And I didn’t tell Boomer shit.”

“Whatever Daddy. You might as well tell him. You called Shadee a faggot. All he has to do is put two and two together. Plus, you always include him in my business.”

“Then what the hell you complainin’ for? Just get the nigga on the phone,” he barked at Janay as he flipped out a nine-inch switchblade.

“I know where he is. He’s at my house.”

“What house? Why in the fuck do you got the nigga in your house?”

“He came over this morning.”

“What, Janay?”

“Daddy, we still have a son together and I do still love him.”

“Naw . . . fuck that bullshit! Your son spent the night at his grandmother’s. And love him? His sorry ass ain’t ask for your hand in marriage!” He shook his head in disgust. “Janay, don’t tell me you still layin’ up with this nigga!” He was in her face, and he grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her. “Answer me, dammit. You still layin’ up with this nigga? Why is he still at your house?” he yelled out.

Janay couldn’t stop crying. “Daddy, stop screaming. He still lives there, have you forgot?”

“You should have put his ass out when you caught him stickin’ his dick in another nigga’s ass! Girl, have you lost yo’ damn mind? He done told you he got HIV, you caught him fuckin’ a nigga and he still in yo’ damn house?”

“Daddy, we’ve been together for six years. I don’t know. I-I don’t know what I was thinking. I wanted to try and work it out . . . shit just happened so fast. Then to add insult to injury,” she heaved and cried out, “his girlfriend Brianna came over to the house earlier, screaming. She was mad because she is infected and he promised to marry her and I got mad. I had had enough. She even had a burner. I told her to blast that nigga. I freaked out and just left them there. I
wanted
her to split his wig. I am through with him, Daddy, so stop trippin’.”

“Hold up. Hold up. Janay, you left his other woman in your house holding a gun on your man? Aww, Janay. Sometimes you’re so smart, you’re stupid. What if she kills the nigga in your house? Boomer! Come on, girl.” He snatched her arm. “We need to get over there.”

Boomer drove the Lincoln Continental, Big Choppa sat in the backseat and Janay was in the front. She was dialing her house phone and Shadee’s celly but no one picked up.

“If he is fucking in my house again, this time I am going to kill him and whoever it is he’s fuckin’.” She dialed the numbers again.

“Boomer, make some calls. Put it out there that I’m lookin’ for this clown,” Choppa ordered, and Boomer immediately began dialing his phone while still handling the wheel.

Ten minutes later they turned onto Janay’s block in Cordova. “There go the nigga’s truck right there,” Choppa growled.

“Yeah that’s it.” Janay’s heart was pounding uncontrollably. She pushed the car door open before the car could come to a complete stop.

“Girl, hold up,” Choppa hollered after her. By the time Boomer parked and the both of them, Boomer especially, struggled out of the car Janay was already inside her house. When they opened the front door, Janay was running toward them screaming and crying. She jumped into her father’s arms. Boomer pulled out his heat as he rushed past both of them. Choppa was trying to calm down Janay, who was releasing gut-wrenching screams.

“Chop, come look at this main man,” Boomer called out.

Choppa pulled out his heat. “Get some fresh air, baby. Go on the porch for a few minutes.”

“No . . . Daddy, I gotta see him again,” she cried.

“What the hell for? Go get some fresh air.” He pushed her toward the door and waited until she went outside before going to see what it was that had his daughter freaking out.

“It smells like dog shit up in here,” Boomer commented as they both covered up their noses.

When Choppa got close up on Shadee’s body, he stifled a gag. “Gotdamn! Ain’t no bitch did this to a nigga. If she did, I need her on my team.”

“He is fucked up,” Boomer added. They took a few steps forward and were leaning directly over him. Shadee was naked from the waist down and lying on his side. His ass was covered in blood. They leaned in closer to peek at his face and both jumped back when his eyes fluttered open.

“Shit!” Choppa said in surprise.

“H-help . . . me,” Shadee faintly whispered.

“Well I’ll be damned! Ain’t this a bitch!” Choppa yelled out. “Nigga, you is fucked up. I thought you was dead. This fool must got nine lives.”

“H-help,” he groaned.

Brianna had aimed three shots to his head. One of the bullets was in his jaw, one had grazed his head and the final one had skinned his ear and gone into the carpet. She was definitely a lousy shooter.

Boomer was looking around the living room. The lamps and end tables were knocked over, sofa cushions were tossed all around the room and the smell was undescribable . . . sex, dogs and dog shit permeated the air.