The Pussy Trap (6 page)

“I know who put that hit on our people and it just so happens that I have a meeting with them tonight.”

“Don’t fuck with me, ‘Deek.” Malik stood and the look on his face could have leveled a city block. He thought that he might have had something to do with it, but he never suspected him to be bold enough to call and show it.

“Nah, partner, I set everything up and we’re getting ready to fuck these niggas.”

“Round up whomever you can and come and get me.” He hung up and got strapped. He took a few more drinks and waited on Sadeek.

Thirty minutes later, Sadeek pulled up and they were off to the meeting spot.

Malik sat back in the seat thinking about his wife and daughter and now Keisha. Tears started to form in his eyes, but he didn’t allow them to fall. “So how’d you find these niggas?” he turned and questioned Sadeek.

“It was more like they found me.” He glared at Malik.

“What a fucking coincidence.” Malik didn’t believe Sadeek for one minute. He smelled a rat and that stench was coming right out of Sadeek’s mouth. But with his family gone, he really didn’t give a fuck if it was his end. He felt like at least he could meet back up with them. “Well, the way I feel, somebody is going to die tonight.”

Sadeek looked over at him again and said, “Don’t worry. We settling all scores tonight.” He turned his eyes back to the road. Malik got quiet and just stared out the window.

They pulled up to a set of warehouses in the iron bound section of Newark. Just as they proceeded to get out the car Raheem and Tah’leek pulled up behind them. Malik stepped ou the car slammed the door behind him, Raheem and Tah’leek came and stood beside him.

“What’s good niggas?” Tah’leek said fixing the zipper on his coat.

“Ain’t nothing lets go straighten this shit out.” Malik replied.

Malik looked around and saw a few cars, but he didn’t recognize them. He was trying to put together who could be inside, but came up with nothing. They walked inside and into the darkness of the empty warehouse filled with the sound of broken glass crunching under their feet and the faint sound of dripping water in the distance. They moved through the open doorways until they came to some steps. There, they stood at the bottom of a staircase welcoming their soon to be victim.

Malik looked up and saw three silhouettes approaching him. He immediately drew his gun. It was Scarie and his bodyguards coming down the steps. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked. Malik was ready to blast until he realized it was his boy. Then he lowered it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Malik asked Scarie.

“Dat’s a question for your boi,” Scarie said in his thick accent.

Malik turned and looked at Sadeek. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Restructure,” Sadeek said with a nasty look in his eyes.

Then Malik looked at Raheem and Tah’leek. “What the fuck is going on?” Raheem shook his head from side-to-side. Tah’leek didn’t even respond.

Malik turned back toward Sadeek.

“Oh, so you want to be me? Well, I’ll tell you like this: It don’t matter how hard you try, you ain’t going to be nothing more than a greasy ass nigga. And when you come up off of greed, it always bites you in the ass.” Malik turned his back on Sadeek. “Well, go ahead and do what you came to do, but you got to kill a nigga the way you came at him, so excuse my back.” Malik spit on the floor and braced himself for his fate with his family, all dismantled he had no desire to live.

With that, Sadeek shot Malik five times in the back and then spit on him. “Wrong answer, muthafucka,” Sadeek said.

Raheem put his head in his hands and immediately felt fucked up. Tah’leek stood there staring at Scarie and his crew with an evil coldness to his eyes debating whether he should pull out and blast Scarie and his whole crew or put one in his dumb ass brother.

“You want what I gave this nigga, or are you ready to go forward and do what we got to do?” Sadeek yelled at Raheem.

“Nigga, fuck you. I ain’t trying to hear all that shit you talking. If we go forward, then we do this shit together. You ain’t my gotdamn boss, nigga.”

“Shit, I can’t tell. I’m the one with the connect. I’m the one that made the sacrifice, so as I see it, nigga, you work for me. Or hit the muthafuckin’ unemployment line because I’m running this shit.”

Raheem looked at him like he was crazy. Then Tah’leek yelled at Sadeek “What the fuck is wrong with you? You letting these niggas come between us?” he got louder with each word.

“Well, I can settle who is in charge. Neither one of you niggas,” Scarie spoke then he shot Sadeek in the stomach.

“What the fuck are you doing? We had a deal,” Sadeek yelled out in agonizing pain as he placed his hand on his wound. He fumbled with his gun causing it to fall to the floor. Tah’leek and Raheem was in a standoff with Scarie and his boys.

“The key word is had. Do ya remember the girl you fucked at the hotel and killed?” Sadeek’s eyes got big as hell; shit got so quiet you could have heard a rat piss on cotton.

“Yeah, nigga, dat one. Well, dat was me cousin.” Scarie shot him again. Sadeek fell back into Raheem then a rain of bullets fell over both of them. Tah’leek turned to run with his arm turned back at his enemies. He let off shots but his gun was unlucky that night. He was shot several times in his back, fell into a pile of iron rods, and fell on his stomach dying instantly.

As Raheem lay there dying, all he could think was why did he agree to fuck with Sadeek on this shit. All of his fears were confirmed. Sadeek had made a deal with the devil.

Chapter 6

Hey Family, this is KoKo. I know y’all had to sit through a few stories before y’all got to meet the baddest bitch you will ever read about, but it's all good. The shit was necessary. But check it, shit is getting ready to move real fast so pay attention and get at a bitch at the end.

It was a Friday night and KoKo was chilling in the bar with Scales, Wise, and Baseem from Yonkers.

Aldeen was the man next to the man. He was humble but deadly. He was responsible for bringing KoKo her orders and because of that fact; she only gave him the money and reports.

Scales was this tall, lanky nigga with a slick ass tongue and an insatiable taste for cards and dice. Night after night, he would get all the little niggas in the back of the bar, school them, and talk shit about his winnings. “Let your next move be your best move, little youngin,” is all you would hear echoing from the back of the bar.

Scales had mad love for KoKo and because of his loyalty; he didn’t have to move shit but his mouth. He was the only one on her team paid to just be there and keep her informed.

Then there was Wise, one of KoKo’s appointed henchmen. 6’1”, 200 pounds, light skinned with wavy black hair and a body built like a god. He had a no nonsense attitude; if a nigga got out of line; he checked them on the spot. He lived by the philosophy that if you play with a dog, he will lick you. So he made sure never to play with a nigga. He would always say, “I laugh and I joke, but I don’t play.” Proverbs were another one of his attributes, which got him the name, Wise.

Wise and KoKo were like brother and sister ever since the day she had cut this bitch seven times for burning him. They were in the pizza shop ordering a few slices and the bitch walked in acting like America’s Next Top Model, flaunting around like she was the shit with her drippy pussy.

“Get the fuck off the block. Don’t nobody want none of your funky ass,” KoKo yelled.

She shot back, “Bitch, you just mad because they ain’t trying to fuck you, fucking dyke.”

And as if KoKo had wings, she jumped on her and sliced her face seven times with a straight razor before they could get KoKo off her. She stood up and smirked. “Now your face will be barking just like your pussy.” Koko spit on her then walked to the counter, paid for her pizza, and bounced. Everybody stood around looking shocked. When Wise saw that she was the type of bitch that didn’t give a fuck, he knew she was team material and had been teaching, training, and watching her back ever since.

KoKo had come up hard. She grew up in the Wilson Place projects in Orange, New Jersey. Her mom had passed away when she was small, so her grandmother raised her. They moved to the projects in 1980 after her mom died. Her grandmother sold the house and moved into a two-bedroom apartment to save money. When she started elementary at Oakwood Avenue School, she met her two best friends, Tionne and Tabatha. They hit it off as soon as they met and were inseparable. They had formed a bond that no one could break or so they thought.

By the time KoKo turned nine years old, the ‘jets were changing; crack had taken over the streets and she saw more niggas killed than a little. The straw that broke the camel’s back for her grandmother was one summer night. Gunshots rang out in the hallway and her grandmother came running into her room scared as hell, crying and saying somebody got shot in front of their door. KoKo jumped out the bed and looked out the peek hole. She could see ReRe and Cordy standing over somebody crying and yelling for help.

Even though she was scared, curiosity took over and she cracked the door. What she saw would change her life forever. There he laid, one of the kingpins of Orange spread out with blood and white shit coming out of his nose and mouth and his body full of gun holes. KoKo stood there staring. Her grandmother was pulling her arms and trying to get her to come back in the house, but she couldn’t move. Bizzy was one of the project’s role models. Although he sold drugs, he wasn’t like the typical dealer. He was about 5’ 6”, chocolate brown, and a sweetheart. He would pass money out to the kids and help out with the local ball teams so that the kids who didn’t have sneakers and stuff could play. In the summer, he would help organize trips so the kids could get out of the projects and have fun. He had just bought his mom a condo and always kept a good rapport with all the people who lived around there even though he didn’t. Seeing him laid out crushed KoKo to her very soul. Then to see his boys crying and yelling—all the people that she looked up to, was devastating.

Her grandmother finally pulled her inside then locked and chained the door. She tried to get her to go back to bed, but who could sleep after that? KoKo lay there looking at the ceiling for at least two and a half hours before drifting off.

When she got up to go to school the next morning, she was haunted by the thoughts of what she saw. The reality of it all hit her hard when she stepped out her door. There were gunshot holes in the floor, wall, and her door, along with smears of blood. Her heart raced and tears came to her eyes. She jumped on the elevator and headed to the fifth floor to Tionne’s house. The same spirit Koko was experiencing at home was also at Tionne’s house. Her cousin, who was one of the top dealers, lived there and was very close to Bizzy. No one was really talking and the usual laughter that she would have heard every morning before school was nonexistent. It was just a somber feeling as everyone got ready for school.

The next couple of events didn’t help much; the killings kept coming. It was something unnatural about seeing a dude’s head blown up so big from a gunshot that it barely fit in the casket. Everyone was sent to Woody’s funeral parlor, which sat on the corner of the projects. How ironic for it to be positioned at the base of a killing zone and they was getting rich on mass murder? You would have thought a situation like that would turn any kid into an A student with the hunger to get out. But for KoKo it was the total opposite: She loved the feeling of the streets, and as for death, she felt it was a part of life. And if a muthafucka got to go, he got to go. She dove head first into the streets, muling drugs from one side of town to the other and holding guns for several local dealers. By the age of twelve, she was making more money than most of her friends’ parents. KoKo's grandmother’s heart was breaking; she could see if she didn't do something fast, she would lose her.