“Baby… they shot him. They fuckin shot him!” I screamed.
“What? Nooooo. Nooooo,” I heard him scream, and then I could hear items in the background falling, leaving me to believe that he was knocking things over.
Through my cries, I was trying to get it out, and tell him everything that just happened, but it was hard to. I was all over the place.
“The paramedics out there?” every word that left his mouth came out like it was painful for him to even speak it.
“Yes. They’re working on him,” I told him.
“Get on there with him. Don’t let my brother get in that fuckin ambulance by himself. Get on that shit with him and letme know where they’re taking him. Stay on the phone with me. I want to hear everything!” he yelled at me.
God, I hoped that Diego was able to shake through this. It wouldn’t end well if he didn’t. I knew that if Diego didn’t make it, Dolo would throw it all away, risk losing everything, just so that he could get at whoever it was that did this.
Meanwhile…. Inside The Black Tahoe
Elijah Montclair
“Elias! No! No! What the fuck are you doing, man? Don’t do this shit to me. Don’t do this shit to me!” I screamed, after rushing to pull the cover over on the side of the road, when I noticed that my brother wasn’t responding to me when I called his name.
Once I pulled the car over, I quickly hopped out, so that I could rush over to his side. He was slumped over in the passenger seat. I opened the passenger side door, and right there, you could see the dime size bullet hole on the side of his head. He had been shot right there, and blood was slowly oozing out.
“Nooooo! What the fuck! Noooo!” I screamed, putting my hands on his shoulders, shaking him. He wasn’t responding back to me. His eyes were open, but they didn’t hold any life to them. He was gone. Gone, and all of this was my fault.
Elias and I had been just a couple of blocks over from where all the food trucks were. Our barber wasn’t too far away from the location. I’d already gotten my cut, and Elias was in the chair at the time, finishing up with his.
While I waited on him to finish with his cut, I was strolling on Instagram. I followed a lot of the local spots in Miami. One of the food trucks that were out there, I followed them. A nigganamed Nathen that I went to school with owned the pizza truck out there. He took a video of the vibes that were going on out there, and in the distance, I was able to see Riot, and Diego. They weren’t standing too far away from his truck. I hit that nigga quick, responding back to the story, asking him how long they had been out there. He wrote back quickly, letting me know that they hadn’t been out there that long, and that they were still waiting on their orders.
Knowing that, I quickly shot a text to my brother from across the room, letting him know what was going on, and how we should slide over there. Elias wasn’t feeling it. He felt like it was reckless. He felt like it would be too many innocent people in the way, and he didn’t want to hit any of them. I told him that this was a good chance to get at Riot, and Dolo’s little brother.
Once he finished up with this haircut, I did some more convincing, and even though it was evident that he wasn’t down for it, Elias has always been the kind of brother that would go to war with me, even when he wasn’t comfortable with something. He did just that tonight. I forced this man to take this ride with me, and he ended up losing his life. I felt sick to my stomach because of it.
“I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin sorry,” I cried real tears, looking down at him.
These past few days have been hell for us. Me, and my brother had to clear out so many accounts, just so that we could put the money together, and be able to pay Eduardo back the money that we owed him. We couldn’t play around with that. We knew that if we didn’t get him the millions that he wanted, that he would come back, and kill our asses. We had to take some of our finest jewelry, and pawn that shit. That’s how deep in the hole we were with this.
We had to sell back a couple of our cars too. We put together every cent that we had stashed away, and after all of that, wehad the money to give to Eduardo. The plan was to get Eduardo back his shit tomorrow. We had a plan, man. A plan to start all the way over. A plan to start from the bottom, and this time, do this drug shit without any handouts. See, back then, a lot of niggas didn’t respect us as hustlers because everybody felt like we only had the shit that we had because of who our father was. We wanted to prove that we could come back from this. We wanted to prove that we had that dog in us just like the rest of the Montclair men.
Now, this nigga left me. Left me out here all alone to figure this shit out on my own.
Something in me just woke up. I didn’t care whether I lived or died after this shit. My brother was killed, and after I finished crying about it and sent him on to rest, I had to go out, and hunt. I was going to kill that bitch Riot, and I was going to kill her nigga too.
Chapter 15
Dominique ‘Dolo’ Shaw
We were all at the hospital. Planted inside the family waiting room area. Nobody was saying anything. I think we all were sitting around with the same fears right now.
Was my brother going to die?It’s what we were all thinking. It’s what we all had been asking each other during our first moments of walking in the room. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared about anything in my life. We’ve been inside this waiting room for about two hours, and we still didn’t have any answers. I showed my ass about three times already, going over to the nurses station, demanding answers, wanting to know what the fuck was taking so long in surgery. My dad was here, and during all three of those crash outs, he had to get a hold of me, walk me out of the hospital doors, just to get me to calm down.
We’re talking about a little nigga that was four years younger than me, and I remember being a kid, begging my parents to give me a little brother. I taught Diego a lot of shit. Yeah, we had our daddy in the picture, but you gotta remember that for a lot of years, my mama up and left that nigga, moved us to Spain, so Ihad to step up, and be the daddy for my little brother. I taught him how to piss straight. Taught him how to ride a bike. Taught him how to have confidence when he wanted to go after a girl. Most importantly, I taught him the rules of the dope game. My brother liked to clown me, and tell me that I was soft, but I made sure that I went through every day of my life, telling him that I loved him.
Getting that call from Riot, and when she started screaming, and crying like that, I already knew what time it was. My girl don’t cry like that. She’ll cry, but when she does, it’s just a few tears, but nothing to that extreme. I knew the difference between the kind of cry when I just simply yelled at her ass and hurt her feelings, versus something deadly, and detrimental. When she said my name like that, followed by her screaming, and I didn’t hear Diego in the background, I already knew what was up.
I knew a tragedy happened. When she confirmed it, it felt like I took the same bullets to my chest that my brother had taken. She said the kind of words to me over the phone that I always feared hearing. I feared one day that a nigga would try to get at me by going through my brother. That’s what happened tonight, and I didn’t know how to feel.
Inside the room, it was me, my mom, and my dad. Some of my father’s side was here, as well as my mom. Loco pulled up too. Bray and Kendrick were here too.
Riot was in here as well. I was sitting, and she was on the other side of the room, standing. I think she was scared to come near me. I knew how her brain worked. I knew how she operated. I hoped she didn’t think that I was blaming this shit on her. She was taking it hard. She’s going through what we call in the streets, ‘shell-shocked’. It’s what you through when you witness violence that appears literally right in front of you.
