Yea. This nigga gon’pay.

  December 2018

  “Yo, I been watching this nigga for the last week. He don’t even realize he got eyes on him.”

  “Hell nah. That nigga think he smart, but he ain’t shit.”

  “So, when you tryin’a do this?”

  “I’ma holla at Genese and see what’s up. See what she know,” Two-Shots said.

  “Oh, you talking about your fine-ass cousin?”

  “Ay, nigga, watch your fucking mouth, bruh,” Two-Shots warned.

  He and his boy Dee were in his car watching Tank. He had been following him for about a week, watching every move that he made. He had run through the money from the first jacking. He planned to get more, though—a whole lot more. He had to be two steps ahead of Tank this time. He wanted to learn his patterns and routines. He knew that Martaveous Young’s name was all over Miami for being the successful club owner and producer. Tank was still in them streets heavy. He knew Tank was still pushing major weight. And if it was weight, then he knew there had to be trap houses. Two-Shots figured if he could hit the right trap at the right time, then he would be rich.

  He needed to get at Genese to get her to play her part. He had a specific role for her to play. But for now, he would just keep watching and waiting.

  “Damn, man, this nigga got a badass car,” Dee admired, watching from the passenger seat.

  “Man, my nigga, I know you ain’t dickriding,” Two-Shots snapped. “All on this nigga’s nuts and shit.”

  “Bruh, fuck out of here with that bullshit.” Dee turned, looking at him crazy. “I’m just saying, the nigga got a badass whip. Yo, me and T-Rock went to one of his clubs a couple of weeks ago. He got some badass bitches up in there too.”

  Two-Shots just shook his head. His boy was in his car dickriding some nigga they were planning to rob.

  “Well, that nigga ain’t about to have that shit much longer. We gon’ hit every trap that nigga got. Take all of his shit, and we gon’ be the new kings of Miami, my nigga,” he nodded.

  “You think the shit gon’ work?” Dee asked, skeptical.

  “Hell yeah,” Two-Shots said. “I’m gonna watch this nigga suffer.”

  Dee just shrugged, clueless about what was going on. He didn’t know the history or hate that Shots had for Tank. Even though Two-Shots had only endured him for a few years, Tank had made his life a living hell. He constantly fucked with him. And for him to be as successful as he was bothered Shots. He felt like it should be him that was making money. It should be Shots that was running traps. But instead, he was doing stickup jobs and going in and out of jail. But he was willing to risk it all if it meant taking down Tank.

  “Your time is up, nigga,” he said, following Tank. “Believe that.”

  * * *

  “Ay, yo, we got an hour before sound check,” one of Tank’s associates called out from the other side of the room.

  “A’ight. I’m headed that way in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Cool. I’ll hit them and tell them that you are on the way.”

  Tank was trying to finish up some paperwork for the concert that he was about to throw. He had been promoting it like crazy while still holding other shows. The sales were going through the roof. He was prepping for the biggest concert but had a show in South Beach later that night. The show was at the end of the summer, and he was working overtime to be ready. Even though he had been shot, he still had business to handle. He had folks all through the streets of Miami looking for who did it. Somebody in Miami knew something, and he was going to find out who was stupid enough to come at him in his own home. And when he did, he would make sure that his face was the last thing they saw.

  He knew he needed to get at Genese too. It had been a few days since he had talked to her. She had left pissed off because he had blown up on her. He had blamed her for what happened. It wasn’t like she could really do anything to stop it.

  Thinking about it pissed him off again. He never got caught slipping. It had been fucking with him. Still, he figured he would at least hit her up and apologize. She had been taking care of him, and he was appreciative of that.

  He finished up his paperwork and grabbed his things to leave. Then getting into his car, he started to head for the venue. Unfortunately, he must not have been paying attention because he heard a horn seconds later and then hit the front end of a Lexus ES 350.

  “Goddamn it,” he yelled.

  He hopped up and walked around, hearing the other driver obviously pissed.

  “Say, man, what the hell is wrong with you?” the driver said, getting out of his car. “Don’t you fucking look where you going?”

  “My bad, bruh,” Tank apologized.

  He knew the damage to his Audi was a hell of a lot worse than some Lexus.

  “Damn, man,” the driver groaned, bending down. “I just got this car.”

  The voice sounded familiar to Tank. He walked around to the driver and looked. He saw who it was and started laughing.

  “The fuck is so funny?” the man asked.

  “Ty? That you?”

  The man stood staring for a second before his mouth dropped open. “Martaveous?”

  “Yeah, man.” Tank nodded.

  They both started laughing and dapping each other up.

  “Bruh, what’s good with your nondriving ass?” Ty laughed. “How you been?”

  “Chilling, man. Living life,” Tank answered. “What’s up with you?”

  “Same. Grinding,” Ty replied.

  “Dawg, I didn’t even know you was still in Miami,” Tank said. “I thought you were in like D.C. or some shit.”

  “Yeah, but I been back home for a while,” his boy said. “I went to school up there and everything. But Moms got sick a few years after graduation, so I came back. Been in Miami now for a minute.”

  “Yo, that’s wassup,” Tank nodded, leaning against his car.

  “So, where the hell were you going that you obviously weren’t paying attention and hit my shit?” Ty laughed.

  “My bad, man. Shit been crazy trying to get ready for this concert,” Tank said.

  “What concert?”

  “The Tank Out,” he said.

  “Yo, that’s you?” Ty asked, impressed.

  “Yeah, man. You know I’m managing artists and shit now. Got them working with some badass producers and everything,” he told him.

  “Damn, I heard about that concert. I ain’t know that was you. Congrats, my nigga.”

  “Yeah. I’m actually headed over to the venue now. You wanna roll?” Tank asked.

  “Hell yeah,” Ty agreed.

  “A’ight. Pull your car up.”

  He waited as Ty hopped in his whip and pulled it into the alley where he had parked it, then got into Tank’s Audi.

  They headed to the venue to catch up. Tank found out that his boy had been doing good for himself. He owned a shoe store in the mall and even had a kid. He was happy for his boy. After Ty had left for school, Tank didn’t think that he would see him anymore. His foster mother made sure that Ty had minimal contact with him after being hospitalized with a broken leg.

  “Ay, man, I’m sorry to hear about your moms,” he offered. “She was cool. She didn’t like me, but she was cool.”

  “Man, she hated your ass,” Ty laughed. “But I appreciate it, folk. I’m just glad she didn’t suffer too long.”

  “What was it?” Tank questioned.

  “Breast cancer.”

  “Damn,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, it’s some crazy shit. But she’s at peace now,” Ty said.

  “Yeah.”

  The two drove in silence for a few minutes before Ty spoke up again.

  “But you know what? I know moms would probably be out of her mind if she found out that you had all this going on,” he laughed. “I can’t believe you running shit like this.”

  “Yeah, man. I mean, shit ain’t always been easy. But a nigga been working hard,” Tank bragged. “You know I’m ’bout to open up a new club. Got this big-ass concert going on too.”

  “So, you gonna be settling down and getting married and all of that soon, huh?” Ty pressed.

  “Man, hell nah,” Tank dismissed. He and Genese were tight, but she knew that he wasn’t ready for no kids and all of that. That would slow him down. He had too much to handle. “So, you got a little shorty, huh?”

  Ty nodded and told him all about his son. He didn’t get to see him much because he lived in D.C. with his baby mama. But the way he talked about him, Tank knew he wasn’t a deadbeat. They laughed and talked, pulling up to the venue, and Ty kicked it with his boy like the good old days. It was good to have his friend back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  January 2019

  “Okay, kids, now, let’s all try to settle down and take a seat. Lunch is almost ready. We’ve got Mr. Williams and my son, Mr. Young, here, and they have a special treat for you all, so I want you to give them your undivided attention, and I want you to mind your manners while they’re talking to you guys, all right?” Mz. Ave called out.

  “Yes, ma’am,” several kids replied.

  Martaveous and Ty were at Mz. Ave’s soup kitchen. She was having her annual back-to-school luncheon where she handed out free lunches and supplies to kids in the neighborhood for school. When Ty found out about it, he wanted to help out and offered to donate some shoes to all the children from his store. Of course, Mz. Ave thought that it was a wonderful idea. Now, he and Martaveous were talking to the kids and making sure that they were taken of.

  Mz. Ave gave the floor to the two of them, and they stood side by side, looking at about twenty-five kids.

  “Okay, so, like my moms said, we got something for y’all,” Tank spoke. “We know school is starting soon and everything, so my boy, Ty, here, he’s gonna hook all y’all up with a pair of sneakers.”

  He and Ty both smiled at the kids’ shocked and happy expressions.

  “Oh snap. What? For real?” was all they could hear throughout the room.

  “A’ight, so while Ma is finishing up lunch, we gon’ come and get y’all sizes and everything. But, yo, we need y’all to stay seated,” he requested. “Ty, you get that side, and I’ll take this one.”

  “A’ight,” Ty nodded.

  They started walking around the room getting names and shoe sizes. Ty had a truck sitting parked at the back of the building to bring the shoes in to hand out.

  “Now, look here—we giving y’all these because y’all have really been doing good. I don’t wanna hear about none of y’all getting in trouble or nothing like that,” Tank warned.

  “That’s right because y’all know I will come hunt you down,” Mz. Ave called out from the kitchen.

  Everyone laughed but knew she meant it, especially Tank. He was working his side of the room when he noticed a familiar face.

  “What’s up there, young gangsta?” he said, approaching the boy. “Strap, right?”

  “Hey, wassup, man?” the young boy said excitedly.

  “Yo, man, I’m glad you here. Check it. I got something for you.”

  “What?”

  “So, I talked to my boy, Ty, over there, and he put a special pair of Jay Ts to the side for you.”

  Tank knew the little boy was excited and tried to act as if it were no big deal.

  “That’s wassup,” Strap said nonchalantly. “’Preciate that, man.”

  “Yeah. And I may have a job for you too,” Tank told him.

  “Man, hell yeah,” Strap said, jumping up, excited. “I been wanting to run for you.”

  “Whoa. Slow your roll, partna.” Tank stopped him. “I don’t need you to be doing all that.”

  He already had a crew moving his weight for him. He didn’t want to put no kid in the middle of it. He may have been ruthless, but he wasn’t that ruthless.

  “So, then, what is it?” Strap asked, slightly disappointed.

  “I got some concerts coming up. I need some kids on my street team,” Tank explained. “I’ll hook you up with some bread. I just need you out here posting flyers, putting them on people’s cars, and stuff. Let them know that the Tank Out is coming.”

  “That’s it?” Strap pushed.

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “A’ight.” Strap nodded.

  “Ay, but, yo, you gotta stay out of trouble,” Tank warned. “You can’t be doing all of that if you’re gonna be getting in trouble.”

  “I got you. I’m clutch,” he promised.

  Tank smiled at his excitement. Even though he was trying to act hard, the boy was damn near jumping up and down.

  All of the children were oohing and aahing over their gifts from the two gentlemen. Mz. Ave stood at the door of the kitchen and watched in admiration.

  “Martaveous,” she called out to him.

  He walked over to her and was met with a warm hug.

  “What you and Ty have done today, baby . . . It’s put a smile on all these kids’ faces. It’s something I never would’ve thought possible. Just look at them,” she cooed.

  “Ma, it’s no big thing.” Tank shrugged, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Just trying to help.”

  “You know, just when I think you can’t surprise me anymore, you do. And I’m so proud,” she said, getting choked up. “To think, you started off as that young boy that was so hardheaded and cocky and mean, thinking he knew everything, and no one could tell him nothing. But look at you now,” she said, touching his face. “Now, you’re all grown up. You’re successful. And every time I turn around, somebody is telling me that you are getting recognized or something. You got your businesses and everything, and you’re doing good. You are one of the reasons why I do what I do because I know that there is good in everybody. You just need somebody to bring it out of your stubborn ass,” she laughed.

  “Now, didn’t you tell me not to be cussing?” he reminded her.

  “Oh boy, hush. I’m grown. Do as I say, not as I do,” she dismissed.

  He shook his head and laughed. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  “God has really blessed you, baby,” she told him. “You know you the only child that comes back to see me on a regular? Well, except for my baby girl, DZia. But she done went on and went to college and living her life.”

  “Oh really?” he questioned, remembering her being the cute little girl that would bug him all the time.

  “Yeah. You know she graduates next year,” she smiled. “She calls me every now and then, but you know she’s a teenager. She too busy. But at least I got you.”

  He gave her a squeeze and nodded. They both started watching the kids as the lunches were being served. The children actually looked happy instead of their usual angry selves. Mz. Ave’s soup kitchen was in a neighborhood where families struggled daily to make it. Kids were out on the streets, either gang banging or selling drugs. So, seeing all of them in one place, not fighting and laughing like normal children, made Mz. Ave extremely happy. And if she was happy, then so was Tank.

  He looked at Li’l Strap and thought about how much he reminded him of himself when he was a kid. He knew that a little boy would have some struggles. He knew the little boy was probably dealing with more than most kids his age should. But he was going to make sure to look out for him. Other than Ty and Mz. Ave, Tank never really had anybody look out for him. And he would hate to see the little boy suffer.

  Suddenly, gunshots rang out, and just as fast as the children were happy, they were reminded of their environment. Everybody ducked down. Tank grabbed Mz. Ave, making sure that she was okay. They could hear tires screeching off, and Tank could only assume that whoever was being targeted had been caught.

  It made him think about his own situation. He was still searching for the nigga that ran up in his spot and robbed him. All of his thoughts of peace were gone just that fast. He realized that he would hear gunshots again soon. The only difference was, he knew that there would be no witnesses.

  Chapter Nineteen

  January 2019

  “Oh shit. Oh my God. Fuck. Tank, baby, I’m comin’. Oooh, please, don’t stop.”

  Genese was on all fours while Tank fucked her from the back. He had grabbed her by the waist, and she was throwing it back on him hard. She was throwing it like her life depended on it. They had been fucking hard for the last hour, and she had been getting multiple orgasms. She didn’t know what was up, but he was giving her the business, and she was taking it all.

  He pushed her head down into the pillows and started slamming into her. With every inch of dick that she felt, her pussy kegeled. She wanted to explode. He hit her with the curve, and she squirted everywhere.

  “Damn,” he grunted, seeing her gush all over his sheets. “Fuck, this pussy so damn good,” he mumbled.

  She was in heaven.

  “Oooh, don’t stop, daddy,” she moaned. “Fuck this pussy, baby.”

  He smacked her ass hard, and she cried out. If the neighbors didn’t know his name already, they were about to.

  “Tank,” she screamed.

  She knew he was about to come because he quickened up his pace. Catching him off guard, she leaned forward and turned around, taking him in her mouth.

  “Goddamn,” he said in surprise, looking down at her as she gripped his dick and made it disappear in and out of her mouth.

  She was sucking and slurping, spit dripping down her chin as she jacked him in her mouth. Grabbing the back of her head, he fucked her mouth while she twirled her tongue around the head of his dick. If nothing else, she knew that she could fuck him better than any bitch he had ever been with. She massaged his balls and gagged, and all he could hear was her swallowing him.

  “Oh, hell naw. You ain’t ’bout to fuck up my shit. Nah. I got to get back in this pussy,” he stopped her. “You tryin’a make a nigga nut. Uh-uh. I’m ’bout to make that pussy sore.”

  He grabbed her and flipped her back onto the bed, spreading her legs and getting in between her thighs, making his way back inside. Leaning down, he took one of her perfectly round and large titties into his mouth and started sucking as he pushed deeper inside of her. She gasped, feeling him doing damage to her uterus.