Page 4 of Mercedees: Forever An Atkins
Pulling my curls up into a man-bun, I displayed my irritation. Leaving my place of peace to deal with muthafuckas playing with my money caused me to see nothing but red. As a grown ass man, I didn’t understand why it wasn’t a lick of comprehension going on. My promises were loud and fuckin’ clear.
Entering into the warehouse, my brother, Ashaun, was glued to my heels. I glanced back and shook my head. Ever since we were kids, I had to be the serious one. Ashaun was gon’ cut up every time and take life as a joke. The nigga didn’t move until I said so, but when he did, he came through like a thief in the night. One thing he ain’t jest about was my life.
Our Pops, Big Greek, programmed us to be that way. Ashaun was two years younger than me. He wasn’t shit but a copy and paste damn near. People mistook us for twins when Aurora and I were the real ones. She was just never around due to her occupation. However, she moved in silence like any other Greek.
Sage Springs was new territory for us. When we scouted the area, only one name was mentioned repeatedly… Royce Atkins. Seemed like he was the pied piper ‘round these parts. It ain’t make me no never mind. I ain’t bowed down to nan nigga, noteven my father. That muthafucka damn sure wasn’t ‘bout to get that from me. He had my respect fa sho’ though. It was hard being the head nigga in charge.
“Where the hell is Magnus?” I questioned scanning the room. Wasn’t nobody supposed to be here except him and the goofy hanging from the ceiling. Instead, I was looking in the face of Josiah, his flunky.
Clearing his throat, he stuttered with, “H-He in the back Scar.” His focus shifted between me and Ashaun.
“Boy, you shaking like a stripper. Tighten up,” Shaun taunted. He was gon’ find a way to joke regardless.
JoJo offered a small chuckle, but the nervousness was evident. I wasn’t gon’ do shit to him. He could relax. The nigga I had a problem with was already off his feet. I understood why he was shaking though. If I had to show up, somebody was leaving in a body bag.
“Get him,” I demanded. He nodded and jogged to the back. Poor Josiah. He wasn’t much of a soldier, but he was loyal.
“Aye, who the hell is this?” Ashaun questioned pointing to whoever the hell that was under the sack. Mag ain’t give me a heads up on who it was either. He just texted saying he found the culprit and for me to get here.
“Fuckin’ Santa Claus. Muthafucka, I don’t know just like you don’t know. Mag gon’ let it be known in a minute. You spoke to Dukes yet? I think it’s her Sunday.”
His face screwed up so goddamn fast I couldn’t help but laugh. Being Black and Vietnamese gave us the best of both worlds. We had both cultures under our belt and respected both. However, Ashaun could only eat the food from that side when he was in the mood, which was rarely. I, on the other hand, didn’t mind. I actually preferred it over soul food. It wasn’t as greasy or unhealthy.
“I ain’t got time for that shit today, Arion. Tell her I can’t make it,” he said waving off the topic.
“I don’t give a fuck what you can’t make. Bitch you showing up for my mama every time she ask you to,” I said growing cold. He knew I played ‘bout a lot of shit but our mama wasn’t one of them. She sacrificed too much for us. “Try me if you want to, lil’ nigga.”
Kissing the back of his teeth, he then waved me off as well. “Get the hell out my face, Scar. I keep telling you, I ain’t scared of you,” he threw back addressing me by my street name. He only did it when it was time to reel me back in. My family wasn’t to call me by shit regarding the streets.
I didn’t give a fuck ‘bout how he felt. He was gon’ make Sunday dinner and that was a fact. It wasn’t gon’ ever be a time my mama questioned the whereabouts of her sons on any day. When she saw me, she saw him. That was how it was and always would be.
“When I said get here, nigga I ain’t mean right now,” Mag jested approaching us.
“We got shit to handle. Who the fuck is that, Mag? Better yet, what you call us for?” Shaun questioned. I wasn’t in the mood to bullshit around, so I let him take the wheel.
“What if I told you the nigga that’s been stealing is yo’ cousin?” Mag asked walking over to the dangling specimen.
He wanted our attention so bad, he definitely had it now. Shaun and I shot each other a confusing look before giving our attention back to the sacked nigga. Magnus removed it and low and behold, it was my Aunt Lizabeth’s son, Dang, or as we identified him, Danny. I smiled untucking my pistol from my waist. The look in his eyes was pleading, but I wasn’t the one he needed to be begging. I was gon’ turn his lights out regardless of what he said.
Mag ungagged him so he could speak. However, I ain’t have the time or patience for lies. I emptied the clip in his chest leaving both Ashaun and Magnus speechless. If they wanted to sit around and hold conversation, so be it. I had shit to do.
Turning to walk away, I was stopped by Ashaun pulling on my arm. “Hold the fuck up. What the hell was that? You ain’t even let the lil’ nigga speak. Aunt Liz gon’ cut a fool when she find out.”
“I don’t give a fuck what that bitch do. She bring that rah-rah shit and she getting put down like her thieving ass son. More than likely, her bitch ass knew he was stealing from jump. Come on, Shaun, if you riding with me.” I was over the back and forth already.
“You might as well check the shipment while you here,” he suggested.
I looked back with dipped brows and a turned up lip. I knew good and goddamn well he ain’t think I was ‘bout to touch shit up in here, and his goofy ass wasn’t ‘bout to neither. “Why you poking me today? You want holes in yo’ chest, too?”
Smiling from ear to ear, he nodded saying, “Yup, and watch me tell Mama.”
Checking my watch for the umpteenth time, my level of disdain was starting to rise.Snappedcame on ten minutes ago and now I was late. I needed more ideas on offing niggas and them bitches up there did niggas dirty. I loved that shit to the fullest.
“Aight, aight nigga. I see you checking that time piece, so I’m gon’ let you go. How you want him disposed?” Mag inquired.
“I had some barrels of acid shipped out; they should be on the truck. Chop him up, dip him, bottle him up afterward, throw a label on them, then ship them to his mama. If they that fuckin’ thirsty for my bread, let them sip on that,” I said feeling no remorse. I meant every word I spoke, too. Family wasn’t shit tome if we ain’t come from the same womb. Magnus was gon’ do exactly what I told him to and in a timely manner.
“Damn you cold with it. Let’s get the fuck out of here before you really start to tripping. Aight Mag, we’ll holla at you,” Shaun chimed closing the conversation.
