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Honor Thy Thug
Wahida Clark
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eBook - ePub
Honor Thy Thug
Wahida Clark
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From New York Times bestselling author Wahida Clark, comes the next installment in the Thug series. A Murdered son. Shattered bonds. Forbidden affairs. Forced to choose one lover over another. A brother's love tainted by deception. Blackmail. Hate. Lust. Love. Corruption. Four friends torn apart by treachery. The threat of going up against one of the most sophisticated and deadliest Chinese crime organizations. When there's nothing left except a choice between war or death...there's really no choice.
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LiteratureCategoria
African American Fiction1
FAHEEM
My heart raced as I stared down at my seven-year-old sonâs blood-soaked shirt. As his last breath left his body, so did my spirit. I slowly lifted my hand to stroke his little face, and a piercing pain stung my heart. I knew that he was dead. The limpness of his body told me so. But still I refused to believe any different. Warm tears rolled down my cheeks, seeping into my skin. âI canât leave him.â
âFah! Fah! Letâs go, man! The hook is on the way! This joint is going to be crawling in a minute, dawg!â I heard my cousin G yell.
His voice shattered off the warehouse walls but hit my ears like a whisper. I couldnât move. I felt my lips moving, but I heard nothing. âMy son, man. My son, G.â I knew I was saying it over and over.
Thirty-six hours earlier
I dropped my wife, Jaz, and my daughter, Kaeerah, off at the airport. They were headed out to Cali to go visit Tasha. I then scooped up my sonâs uncle, Wali. I needed him to get the skinny on this nigga, Steele, before my fam from up Jersey arrived. I didnât think I would have to pull my gats back out of retirement because I had considered that chapter of my life closed. But this bitch of a baby mother of mines, Oni, along with her scandalous, crooked-ass, wannabe-gangsta brothers, fucked with the wrong nigga and he in turn fucked with me. Now I had to send for backup.
Oni and her brothers had robbed Steeleâs people of their coke, meth and a shitload of cash. In retaliation, since Oni and Steele had been fuckinâ off and on, this nigga did the unthinkable, he snatched up Lilâ Faheem . . . my only son. My seed. So, since I had nothing to do with the caper, my plan was simple: Give Steele his shit back, and get my son; I made Oni and her brothers cough up the bricks and about three hundred grand. They knew if they didnât it would be over for them.
When my fam from up north touched down, I spent a couple of hours filling them in on what all had gone down and what was about to go down. We were holdinâ and ready to get to what used to be one of Atlantaâs hot spots, an old club called The Mix, which was off of Candler Road. At one point in time it was the place to be.
I looked over at my cousins G and Snell and said, âOur main objective is my sonâs safety. All I want to do is get him outta there. I ainât got no beef with these niggas. So none of that we go in shootinâ ask questions later bullshit.â It sounded good being said, I was just praying thatâs how it would go down.
âCâmon, nigga. You know we got you, Fah. Thatâs why you got us down here,â my cousin G said with his usual air of cockiness. âOnce little man is out the way, then if them niggas look wrong, Iâma push them melons back. Real talk.â
I checked my gat one last time. âTime to roll.â I had G riding shotgun, Snell and Waliâs punk ass was in the back. The only reason I allowed the nigga to roll was because Steele wouldnât meet with us unless at least one of them muthafuckas who stole from him was present. Me personally? I wanted all of Oniâs brothers to come, because I had planned to dead them all. And this would have been the perfect time and place to do it. But for now, Wali would have to do. Today would be his last day breathing.
After about twenty minutes, we pulled into the parking lot. âThis it?â G sounded disappointed. I donât know what he was expecting. âThis shit look abandoned.â
âItâs closed down. Them niggas just use it as a hang out spot and a place to conduct business.â Wali told us.
I pulled around the back of the club. Wali had already told me that if something went down, there were only two exits. One in the front and one in the back. So I decided to park in the back, while hoping that my gut instinct was right. I pulled up next to a black Suburban, the only car there. I assumed that our guests were already inside. I deaded the engine. We got out and met at the trunk of my ride, looking around the deserted lot for anything or anybody out of place. Satisfied, I then checked out the three duffels one last time and slammed the trunk shut. I kept the one with the cash and gave Snell the other two with the bricks. One had coke, the other meth. G was the firepower. We headed to the back door, and there was two niggas standing in the cut, obviously waiting on our arrival and clockinâ our every move.
âSpyder, what up, nigga?â This nigga had a long neck and was skinny as a bean pole. Wali greeted him as if he was a regular there and we were enjoying an evening out on the town.
Spyder hawked and spit in Waliâs face. To my surprise, Wali was cool. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, smiled, and said, âI see somebody ainât get no pussy last night.â
Spyder then anxiously grabbed the duffel bags and checked their contents. No one bothered to pat us down. Red flag. Gratified, he led the way, while his partner, who looked like a linebacker, took up the rear. My heart was racing. I was anxious to start bustinâ niggas right then and there. But I knew I had to be cool until I got my little man out of harmâs way.
When we got inside the old club, there was this faggot muthafucka, Steele waiting on us, mugged up. Wali did good with his description. He was tall, thin, with sharp, cold eyes. As soon as he spotted Wali, he stood and swiftly drew a shiny Heckler and Koch, one of my favorites, and shot Wali in the leg. Fuck. Everyone drew their weapons. This nigga was precise and I was worried.
Wali stood there screaming, obviously in pain. âShut up man! You ainât dead.â Snell yelled at him.
This nigga Steele then had the nerve to calmly take his seat and was now propped up on a leather sofa like he was a fucking don or some shit. His long black dreads with red tips hung loosely over his shoulders. The image of him toking a cigar vexed me as much as the smoke that clouded the room. My son. I had to stay focused. I was here to get my son, I reminded myself.
âYou can relax your weapons. Just know that I ainât done with that scum.â His muscle lowered their weapons, then myself, followed by G and Snell. Wali was still wailing in pain.
âAiight, we here. I got your shit, now where is my son?â There was no need for formalities.
âWho the fuck is you?â Steele sneered while mean-mugging me as if I gave a fuck. He knew who I was.
âIâm a monster. But today, I come as a father. I just want what belongs to me, my son. And in exchange Iâm giving you back what belongs to you,â I said as I patted the duffel bag I was holding and nodded to the two Snell had.
âOh yeah. I heard about you.â He looked at me with contempt. âLet me see what yâall working with.â
âThey already checked the bags at the door. Let me see my son. Your shit is all there.â
The nigga took a minute to size up the situation, and then nodded at the linebacker. There was a door behind him, and when he opened it, a chick came out with my son. He was blindfolded, and they had his hands taped together in front of him. It took everything within my power to not lose control.
âAiight, you see him, now pass over what belongs to me,â Steele barked.
My nostrils flared up. I took a deep breath, and then unzipped the bag so that he could see the cash. Snell did the same thing.
âI didnât say show it to me. I said pass what belongs to me over here.â
I didnât know who the fuck this nigga thought I was, but I wasnât new to this shit. âNah, nigga, same time.â
âDad?â Lilâ Faheem called out, and my knees got weak.
And just as we were getting ready to make the exchange, with shit already tense, Waliâs bitch ass starts to yell. âYâall niggas are clowns, taking kids and shit!â
Steele rose to his feet, yelling, âMuthafucka, you and that bitch violated me. Do you realize how lucky you are to be breathing right now? You, your sister, and your brothers! You know how much money yâall cost me?â
âFuck you, nigga!â Wali spat.
This time I pulled out my gat and pressed it against Waliâs temple. âYou ho ass nigga. Will you shut the fuck up! This nigga got my fucking kid! Are you out of your fucking mind?â I gritted.
âFaheem, fuck that pussy. Thatâs why we took his shit! If it wasnât my nephew, he wouldnât have gotten shit back!â
What did he say that for? The Heckler and Koch reared its ugly head again and this time, Steele shot Wali right in the middle of his forehead. I knew he was dead before his body hit the cold concrete. I jumped back right on time. G was a little late because he got splashed with brains and blood.
âUncle Wali!â Lilâ Faheem yelled out. The broad wouldnât let him go as he squirmed to get away.
Steele and his cronies started laughing.
There was nothing funny to me. And, that was the last straw because thatâs when my son cried out, âDaddy! Help me! Daddy!â At that point, it was over for me. I lost it.
âHold the fuck up! Can we finish this business? I am here for my son!â I yelled at the top of my lungs. I must have made the muthafuckinâ concrete shake, because niggas got quiet, real quick. âNow, look. I ainât got no beef with you, man. I ainât got shit to do with what they took from you. If you want to kill the whole damn family, you got my blessing. Shit, I was planning on doing them myself. But right now, the only thing Iâm concerned with is my son. If it wasnât for him, I wouldnât even be here.â
Steele stood there taking in what I was saying. Finally, he asked, âHow I know you werenât down with them?â
âI never heard your name until a few days ago. I donât run with them, you know that.â
Steele placed his finger up to his lips as he studied me. Then he said, âDig, if I ever find out that you was with these muthafuckas, Iâma give you what he got.â He glared at me. âNow, set my shit on the table.â Me and Snell picked up the bags and did what we were told. âAnd you!â He pointed to the girl. âRelease his son.â
They took the blindfold off and shoved Lilâ Faheem towards me with the force of a professional wrestler. Once I got him in my arms, I breathed a sigh of relief but I was still tense as fuck. Then I heard, âThat nigga about to start poppinâ shit off!â Who? Next thing I knew we were in the middle of a real gun fight. As bullets started flying, I felt a hot slug pierce my shoulder, and I flew backward damn near tumbling over a table. With a burning sensation enflaming my shoulder until it was virtually numb, I managed to muster the strength to squeeze my gat and let off a few rounds. The sound of bullets merged with the rapid fire of loud claps consumed the atmosphere. Then I hit the ground, covering my little man with my body and I could see niggas ducking and sparks flying through clouds of gun smoke.
When the smoke cleared, I rolled off of Lilâ Faheem onto my back. The pain in my shoulder wouldnât let me move. My ears were ringing. I stared up at the ceiling for a minute. âYou alright, lilâ man? Daddyâs here for you.â I felt for his hand as I looked around to see who was standing and who wasnât.
âFah, you aiight, nigga?â I heard Snell ask as he made his way over to where I was.
âWho started poppinâ off first? And did we dead all of them muthafuckas?â Thatâs what I really wanted to know.
âSpyder is down, but Steele and the bitch got away. They got the bags.â
âFuck them bags! We gotta get out of here. Iâm hit in my shoulder. Help me up so I can get little man in the car.â When I looked down at my son, my worst fear had surfaced. He was bleeding from a wound in his head, and his body was limp. I started calling him and shaking his arm. âFaheem. Faheem. Get up! Daddyâs here, and heâs not going to let anyone else take you away from him.â I tilted his head back and tried to give him mouth-to-mouth, but deep down, I knew it was too late.
âHe gone, Fah. We got to get the fuck outta here,â G said as he bent down and gently placed his hand on my shoulder.
âGet the fuck off me!â Tears came to my eyes as I tried one more time to give him mouth to mouth. I grabbed him and lifted his body to mines. I wanted him to hear my heart cry for him.
âDawg, the hook is on the way. Come on, letâs get him in the car. We gotta get the fuck outta here. Let me take him,â my cousin tried to convince me once again. I was fucked up, and nothing he said made sense, and I wasnât trying to hear nothing he had to say. My son was dead. No parent should ever have to experience this feeling. I only needed to feel the last of the warmth left in his body. Vomit threatened to spill out of me. I knew right then and there I would never be the same. It was over for Oni and her whole damn family. I couldnât help but wonder if this was the karma coming back to me, from all of the families I made cry during my career in the streets.
âFah, the hook will be here. What you wanna do?â G asked me.
I didnât give a fuck if he said the police was behind me. At the moment nothing in this world mattered to me. My son, my only son lay dead. And for what? His bitch of a mother and her ho ass brothers. I weighed my options as the faint sounds of the sirens whispered at a distance. The warehouse was dark, cold, and filled with the smell of gunfire. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me. I couldnât think straight.
âMy son, G. They shot my son.â I squeezed him tighter, wishing I could turn back the hands of time. I hadnât even gotten used to the idea of having a son, and now he was dead. Hell, I just met him no more than four months ago, and just like that . . . he was gone. I did a lot of things in my life, but never in a million years would I have thought that the ultimate sacrifice would be the life of my child. My only son, who I didnât even get the chance to know. I hadnât even learned all of his favorite foods or if he had bad dreams in the middle of the night. Did I tell him that I was going to be the best father that I could possibly be? He was just getting used to me being a part of his life. All I could think was I didnât get to tell him how much I loved him. I wouldnât get to teach him how to drive, talk about girls . . . damn, I felt cheated. At that very moment, I wanted to die right with him. But I knew I would never be able to savor the sweet taste of revenge. That was more important to me.
Snell was standing over me, his face wet with sweat and tears, the wrinkle in his brow reflecting the urgency in his voice. He was now begging me to leave. Impatiently, he rushed back and forth from the front door and back to where Lilâ Faheem and I were lying. âBelieve me, man, I understand how you feel. I swear, I know your pain. You already know Iâve been there when I lost my daughter. But Fah, the hook is coming and ainât no way we gonna be able to explain all this fire and these dead muthafuckas in here, including lilâ Fah. They ainât going to be trying to hear shit!â Snell was trying his best to reason with me.
For real, what he really wanted to say was, âNigga I ainât trying to go to jail!â I appreciated his loyalty and would remember that.
âNigga, I got this. Ainât no sense in all of us dealing with this shit. Yâall go ahead and bounce.â
âCanât doââ
âSnell! Yâall just go,â My voice cracked. I looked him in the eye. âThis is my battle. I got it from here. You and G go. Call Jaz and tell her I need her and ...