I had followed them to the store, parked not too far away and waited.
I had promised Street that I wasn’t going to do anything, and that I’d just let him pay his dues. I mean, I wanted to honor his request, but that wasn’t even the kind of nigga I was. Yeah, Street had dug his own hole, but in life shit happens. He’d been keeping Tavarus updated and letting him know that he was trying to come up with the money. He wasn’t ducking anddodging the nigga. The reaction from Tavarus and his people was unnecessary.
When Street called me from outside of his building that night beat up and talking about needing a fight in seven days that payed heavily, I had told him to let me handle it. I would have payed Tavarus off and punched his bitch ass down for the stunt he pulled too. Street said no. Said he wasn’t going to involve me in his debt situation and that he was going to pay Tavarus what he owed and be done with it. I told him I respected that and I meant it.
What I didn’t tell him was that the second he got off the phone I had decided that paying the debt wasn’t enough. Niggas don’t get to touch my blood and think theirs won’t get touched. Niggas need to know that it’s consequences for doing fuck shit. Yeah, if a nigga owed me, I’d probably beat the ass myself.. but when it came down to my cousin, my favorite damn cousin, I didn’t have no understanding at all.
Tavarus had sent three men to Street’s front door. Had them put a gun to my cousin’s head in a dark alley and beat on him like he was a loser or some shit. Street could really kill a nigga with his hands, so I knew that allowing these niggas to touch him like that, it had to have hurt my boy pride.
Let’s just say that Street wasn’t who he is, they still touched him like he wasn’t connected to anybody who would have something to say about that shit they did. Tavarus had made a calculation that Street wasn’t protected and that no consequences would come behind his actions. That calculation was wrong and I needed him to understand exactly how wrong it was in a way that a conversation or even a counterfeit threat couldn’t accomplish.
So I followed his bitch and sat in that parking lot and I waited.
The older woman went inside with Sandra and I was starting to think I wasn’t going to be able to get the wife alone. I was gonna have to snatch her ass, and the momma. Just as I was trying to come up with a plan, Sandra walked back out to the car alone. The way that she was rushing and holding her keys, I knew that she had left something inside the car. She went to the passenger side and leaned in and when she stood back up and turned around I was already behind her.
I pressed the gun into the small of her back before she knew I was there.
“Don’t scream,” I said quiet and calm right against her ear. “Don’t make a scene. The woman you came here with is inside that store and she’s going to stay safe as long as you make this easy. You understand me?”
She had gone completely still. I felt it move through her body the second the barrel touched her back. Then she nodded once, slow and controlled.
“Good.” I kept the gun where it was and walked her to my car parked two rows over and put her in the passenger seat, then I got in and pulled out of that lot like nothing had happened. No scene. No running. No screaming. She had understood the situation the second it presented itself which told me everything I needed to know about how much she actually knew about the life her husband lived.
She had started talking as soon as we hit the street. Not screaming.
Talking.
Begging.
Telling me she had family who needed her, telling me that if this had anything to do with her husband, she had no idea aboutwhatever he had done. She was telling me she would give me money, access to accounts, anything I wanted if I just let her go. Her voice was shaking but she was keeping it together more than most would have and I respected that even then.
I let her say what she needed to say and then I told her flat that she wasn’t going to be hurt if she shut the fuck up and listened. That this was indeed about her bitch ass husband and a message that needed to be delivered in a language he would take seriously. That as long as she cooperated she was going home eventually and she was going home the same way she left this morning.
She had gone quiet after that and looked out the window. I could see her processing it all and deciding to believe me. She knew deep down that was the smartest decision she could have made.
I had gotten her into my crib without her trying nothing slick, then I set her up in the back bedroom and secured her. After that, I made the call from her phone to Tavarus. Told him I had his wife. Told him to have a hundred thousand dollars ready and that I would be calling back with instructions. I told his ass that if he involved anybody outside of himself in this situation she wouldn’t be coming home. Then I destroyed the phone and threw it in a dumpster ten blocks from my building and went back home.
Tavarus was a street nigga. He knew the rules of this kind of situation and he knew that going outside those rules was how people he loved got hurt. He wasn’t going to call the police. Wasn’t going to try anything that could put her at risk before he understood who he was dealing with and what they actually wanted. He was going to sit with it and wait for the next call and think about every enemy he had ever made and try to figure out which one had gotten close enough to touch his home life.
He wasn’t going to figure it out. He was pressing Street for the money that he owed, so he’d never guess that anybody connected to Street would be holding his bitch hostage to get money out of his ass. This was a cold world and I always made sure niggas who crossed mine would get what they deserved.
I was a ghost in this situation and I planned on staying that way until it was over. These days that I’ve had her now, I know he was losing his damn mind. She was a bad lil older bitch, hell, I would go crazy too.
—
Sandra was looking at me from the bed with that expression she got when she had something to say and was deciding whether to say it.
“Go ahead,” I said.
She shifted against the headboard. “If you wanted to hurt my husband you could’ve done a lot of things. Why take me.”
“Because taking you got his attention in a way that nothing else would. Everybody knows the nigga loves his wife.”
“You haven’t hurt me though.” She said it like she was still working out what that meant. “Three days and you haven’t touched me or threatened me or done anything except bring me food and keep the TV on. If you were trying to scare him you could’ve beat me and sent him something by now. A picture. Proof that—” She stopped. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
“I already told you that.”
“People say a lot of things.”
