Hit Em Up

Jus Blaze © 2019 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 CHAPTER 1 The sound of running footsteps slapping against wet pavement echoed wildly in the dark and cruddy alleyway. Hours before where a brief rain had swept through, the only evidence that remained were the trash and rain filled potholes that dominated the alley and the light fog that was just starting to descend upon it. The hustle and commotion of the nightlife didn’t reach to these parts of the city. Only the rats and the homeless would stir when disturbed within this section. Heavily labored breathing joined the sounds of running footsteps as the runner fought against panic to remain upright and keep going. He was sure that he was being followed or at the very least, being closely watched. Either way the outcome of both would surely mean death in ways that would easily make the front page if the rumors he’d heard held any truth to them. Rasheed chanced a look back to the beginning of the alley, trying to catch a glimpse of someone hanging back looking suspicious, or worse yet, somebody that had already picked up on his trail. Nothing. Noting the lack of activity around him, the man stopped to control his breathing as well as the rabid pace of his mind. At the time he had been quite certain that he had caught the lingering gaze of a dread head that had looked to be of Haitian descent, but just as quickly as Rasheed had spotted him, the man had disappeared into a crowd of people. Whether his eyes had betrayed him or not, Rasheed would refuse to leave anything up to chance, especially when he had managed to snatch over $100k in raw heroin off a rookie Haitian distributor. One who had been unwilling to come up off of the drugs even with a pistol jammed in his face. “Eitha way the wind blow, death seems certain,” the distributor had said almost poetically. “Yet, the death of you offer is mere child’s play compared to those I deal with. Let us pray that when we meet again in the hereafter, the people I know don’t send you there in such a way that not even your own mother would recognize you.” The distributor had then proceeded to laugh until a bullet was embedded into his brain. Even then the man’s word had shook him to his core. In a city like St. Martin that was fueled by criminal elements like crooked cops, drugs crews, organized crime and street gangs that terrorized it’s community with murder, extortion, robbery as well as a list of other mid to high level offenses, the Haitians had etched out their place among the city’s more ruthless and volatile enterprises. A large portion of the bodies that had landed St. Martin the title of the murder capital as well as the infamous nickname “The Murda Mart”, could be attributed to this band of refugee outlaws who sought to control the market of the city's opium based drug trade and the manufacturing of counterfeit bills by whatever means were necessary. With that in mind, Rasheed had refused to associate his name with the stick up any further than it may have been already by personally pushing off the product. The streets had a way of talking, even the tight lipped ones of St. Martin and to jump head first into the scene with that kind of work was simply begging for a closed casket. The smart play had been to get it out of his hands and into the hands of someone he could trust; someone that was heavy in the streets already that wouldn’t raise too many red flags; someone that could be trusted to keep their mouth shut if s**t really hit the fan. His girlfriend’s brother had been the only person to even remotely make sense and after giving him the history of the dope, he was more than convinced that he’d made the right decision. But if that was case, why was he dodging through alleyways fearing for his life? If the Haitians really were on to him, how had they managed to trace anything back to him? Rasheed's mind continued to fill with questions he couldn’t answer. The intense burning in his lungs calmed down enough to allow his brain to process things a bit more clearly. There was no way in hell that he’d been given up like that. Maybe his paranoia had gotten to him. Maybe it had just been his eyes tricking him into believing that what he saw had been the distributor’s threat finally playing itself out. Maybe he had just overreacted. He stole another glance at the start of the alley and felt his heart drop before it sputtered and then threatened to beat itself out of his chest. The man he had seen earlier was back and it was no doubt that he and the guy he had with him were obviously looking for someone. For him . Rasheed quickly turned to run and lost his footing as his sneakers slipped on the wet pavement. He stumbled forward trying to regain his balance before he slammed into some trash cans and sent them crashing loudly to the ground. “ Fuck !” He cursed out loud as the two men turned their attention in his direction and started running after him. He ran through the rest of the alleyway as erratic as possible, intending to make himself a harder target if bullets began to fly. At any moment he expected to hear bullets rip through the air, but he only heard his pursuer’s desperate bid to catch up. Rasheed emerged from the alley and quickly made his way through a nearby projects that lead to a concealed footpath. He knew that the men chasing him would have no knowledge of the cut he just took; they were foreigners, not born and raised in the city. He pushed the distance between him and his pursuers even further and soon they were out of sight and he had made it to his high-rise apartment. Quickly, Rasheed scanned the area looking for anyone that seemed out of place before ducking inside. He took the stairs four at a time, reaching the sixth floor apartment he shared with his girlfriend remarkably fast, but even more gassed. Bent over out of breath, he repeatedly buzzed the doorbell until the door was jerked open and he was snatched inside by powerful hands with a series of guns pointed in his face. “What the hell is this? Who sent you here?” Rasheed’s questions were met with fierce blows to the stomach that dropped him to his knees and left him vomiting on the floor. From around the circle of armed men that surrounded him, stepped out a woman whose beauty was almost intoxicating. She was tall and a rich shade of mahogany. Her slim, yet curvy body stretched taut the thin silk fabric of the sleeveless white gown she wore, leaving very little to the imagination as it settled into every crease offered up by her body. She wore her hair pulled back in an elegant faux locs style adorned with small gold clamps that accentuated the gold flakes in her piercing green eyes, as well as the light sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her lipstick was a moody greenish color that meshed well with her eyes and contrasted sharply against the bright white of her teeth, in which she put on display as she smiled down at the man. “Get this man up to his feet,” she ordered, her voice husky and seductive and dripping with a French accent. The armed men rushed to obey her command and then stepped away leaving the two of them face to face. “I don’t answer your questions,” she said, drawing herself closer to him, “it is only my questions that require answers, Rasheed.” He raised his eyes to meet her own at the sound of his name, for the first time taking in how attractive she was even under these circumstances. She looked good, but not good enough to die for. “I don’t know what kinda questions you want answered or how the f**k you know my name, but you got the wrong nigga for all of that s**t…Who the hell do you suppose to be?” Rasheed demanded to know. She sucked in a deep sensual breath, exhaling it even more so as her body trembled slightly under Rasheed's intense staring eyes. She bit at her lip enticingly, her n*****s becoming firm and pushing noticeably against the soft fabric of her gown as she breathed more deeply. “I must admit, your talk really excites me. So forceful…so powerful…” she trails off as her thoughts momentarily go elsewhere. “Forgive my lack of manners for failing to introduce myself nor my brethren. Here in the states, I’m simply known as Haitian Jackee, and these,” she said with a wave of her hand, “are my brethren. What I want to know is, what did-” “What I wanna know is, what have you done with my girl, Cassie?” he fired back, cutting her off. Anger flashed briefly in those hypnotic green eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone and replaced again with a seductive smile. “I can see that your concern for your woman will soon become a problem for me. It will do us both some good to put your mind at ease about the uncertainty of her well being and allow you to focus on the matter in front of you. Knotty,” Haitian Jackee called out, “bring the girl out to me.” From the nearby bedroom emerged a very large man. His beard was full and ruggedly kept, almost similar to his dreads which were well past his back but thickly matted into a series of large flat ropes of hair. His death stare coal black eyes and his no nonsense all black attire told you everything that you needed to know about the man called Knotty. With one massive hand, he drug the girl, Cassie, out of the room by the back of her neck. She struggled weakly against his brute strength. A gag had been forced into her mouth and her wrist had been duct taped in front of her. She wore only a long t-shirt that did very little to hide the fact that she was pregnant. “Get your hands offa her you fuckin' p***y!” Rasheed snarled. Haitian Jackee stepped back from him, giving her armed men clearer aim. “Secure this man and take the girl to the balcony so he can stop fretting over her well being and we can get down to the business.” One of the armed men rushed forward and placed the sharp blade of a mini machete under Rasheed’s neck and forced him to his knees as Knotty manhandled Cassie out onto the balcony. “You killed my distro and took my dope, but all is not lost. Mercy can still be shown to your loved ones, all you have to do is tell me what you did with my product,” she continued softly. “Mercy?” he asked distantly, his eyes still locked on Cassie’s frightened ones. “Yes, mercy,” Haitian Jackee replied, bending to force his gaze from Cassie back unto her. “There may even be some sort of reprieve for you, after deducting your penalty of course.” “You would tell me anything just to get what you want.” “Lying is for Americans.” “Show her mercy, then we can talk.” Haitian Jackee seemed to consider his request for a few moments before nodding her head in agreement. “Knotty. Show the girl mercy.” Knotty's black eyes gave away nothing as he acknowledged her request by easily lifting the girl from off her feet and throwing her over the sixth floor balcony. The silence that followed seemed magnified by the sickening sound of Cassie’s body being broken up by the pavement. “WHAT THE f**k!?? WHAT THE f**k DID YOU JUST DO!!??” Rasheed screamed in disbelief, straining against the blade that held him with enough force to draw blood. “I showed her mercy,” Haitian Jackee said with indifference. “You just killed my girl and my baby!” Rasheed spat as tears ran down his face. “Trust what I tell you, that was merciful,” she said again. “Your crimes are very high offenses, you killed one of my own…by law, you take, I take.” She said with a shrug. “You wanted mercy for the girl in exchange for your cooperation, now it is time for you to live up to your end of the bargain.”