Bam commented, making us laugh.
We all knew that loud guns would warn of an ambush which we didn’t want. This would only work as a sneak attack if Mecca and his family were caught off guard, unaware we were coming.
Scotty and Bam peeled off ahead of us, and we stayed up the street, holding our fuckin breaths until the call came through.
“Everything clear. We clipped all of them niggas. I got grazed in the shoulder, but I’m all good!” Scotty seemed hyped up, and he set the tone for the rest of the hit right there.
We rolled forward, passing the guards dead at the end of the road before they could warn of our approach. We saw cars lined up from the gravesite and people standing close, heads bowed by an open grave.
Crew and I looked at each other and gave a silent nod.
“Let’s go, let’s go.”
As soon as we stepped out, we started firing at every man who stood out, hitting more guards first. We ducked behind trees, headstones, or whatever cover we could find to avoid being hit.
Women screamed, ducking with kids, but we weren’t going to touch them. My eyes were on the fuck ass niggas shooting back at us, who knew it was shoot or die out here.
Crew was the angriest of us. He dropped maybe six of them by himself, sniping like he’d been waiting his whole life. When the gunfire stopped, and only gunsmoke lingered, we walked over the bodies as the women and kids retreated into the woods.
I stepped carefully over the bodies until I reached Crew, who was standing over Mecca. Mecca was lying on the ground, choking on his own blood.
Crew usually taunts before he kills, but he said nothing to Mecca. He just gave him a look of death and sent a single gunshot into his head, splattering blood over our pants.
Crew just stood there afterward, breathing heavily and staring silently at what was left of the Quatar family. For the first time in a long time, he looked vindicated and I let him have that moment, not rushing him away.
He finally avenged his daughter and his girl, and I avenged my unborn child. This was the way it always needed to be because some wounds don’t close without bloodshed first.
Chapter 17
Crew
Three weeks later.
The good weather today only added to the freedom I felt, and today the park was filled with families like ours enjoying the breeze flowing through the grass and trees, cool enough to keep us comfortable. I’d never been the type of nigga to just walk through a park and talk. For most of my life, sex, weed, and meditating in my room was the only relief I knew. Though that mediation was always going to be a part of my life, I had to find ways to find relief that could include my daughter.
We sent Amir off with fifty thousand dollars and appreciation for giving us the drop on his whole family and putting the entire Quatar family in the morgue. After that, it was easy for me, my daughter, and my baby mama to enjoy things like the park, strolling, and living the life I created for us. There was no hiding for now, no looking over our shoulders, and we were at peace. I was done with beef because now I have much more to lose than street cred. That conversation I had with Hov after the courthouse shooting was starting to make more and more sense to me every day. He was preaching that night, even though I thought it was all bullshit at the time.
“Crew, you know Ciara said Mr. Frank died last week. He had a stroke and Ciara reached out to his daughter about the house, too, so we will see.”
“Oh yeah? So, you're not too good to stay in a house like that now?” I joked, and she laughed at me as she always did.
Pernelle seemed happy and all that mean-girl, Bronx survival shit was slowly withering away since she had the baby. She seemed more in tune with her womanhood now, not always on edge, not always ready for war. No longer moving as if life were a constant threat, and I liked to think I contributed to that a little, and that made me feel good that I was finally making her feel safe.
“For real though, P, whenever she gets back with us, we can make moves. I’m ready for it if you are.”
“Yeah, I am. That would be nice. I’ve been on Pinterest and TikTok looking at house renovations for the past few weeks. Everyone online was saying how stressful it is, but I don’t think I would be stressed. I’m not that picky about things like that.”
“Yeah, you are saying that now until it’s time to pick out floor colors and shit. Then I’m sure we will find out how picky your ass is.”
“Shut up,” she said, hitting me playfully like she always did.
We’d been staying at my place again, locked in with each other. That was the most peace I’d ever felt there. Even when I thought people didn’t know where I lived, it never felt like this. Having a baby in my house made it feel whole, even though I didn’t know it was empty. I’d even cleaned up the unit next door and listed it for rent to get that source of income coming in. I’m going to list my apartment, too, once we find our new forever home.
We had hit about four laps around the track in the park, until I could see that Pernelle was getting a little sluggish with her walk.
“So, what do you want to do now?” I asked.
“I guess we can go home so she can take a nap. I honestly need one too.”
