That Southeast Lovin' 2(5)

By: Ebony Diamonds



"Nah, I just want the address."

"I don’t remember it. I just know how to get there." Damn, now I had to take this bitch with me.

"Aight, well come on then. My windows tinted anyway. Let’s go." I grabbed Judy’s arm and dragged her to the car. I was gonna blow this nigga’s head off when I saw him, then I was gonna kill Keisha’s bitch ass. I sat in the car, waiting for Lisa to come out.

I hadn't heard from Birdie all day. I sent him a text, telling him to meet me at the spot at 5:30. By the spot I meant the funeral home I owned. I used the joint to move large amounts of dope. Black robbed one of my shipments, over fifty million worth of dope. The problem was it wasn’t just mine, it was bought and distributed to about twenty other dealers, and they were pissed. I was the plug and they wanted me to clean the shit up and get their product or money back, or I would have to see street justice. Fuck it. I could always disappear, I proved that. It’s funny though, a few weeks ago, I could have sworn I saw Demark sitting outside my spot. He followed me and we shook his ass. I can't be touched!





Black





Keisha was still unconscious. I haven’t left the hospital since yesterday. Today I had to go wash my ass, grab some clothes and meet up with Lou and Grilla. I was hoping she would wake up soon. I would sit there holding her hand for hours. She still looked beautiful, even with tubes in her nose. I hated seeing her like that.

When I left, I went to meet up with Grilla and Lou; I wanted to see the surprise they had for me. I went to a vacant house in Southwest that we used to do dirt. I heard muffled moans. I went down the steps into the basement and Birdie was tied up in a chair and his face was bashed in. They fucked this nigga up.

“My niggas, I owe y’all some stacks for this shit,” I dapped Lou and Grilla up.

“It’s nothin nigga. You know how we get down nigga. He ain't talkin though. Had to stomp this nigga’s face a few times.” Birdie was wiggling in the chair.

“Y’all niggas gone have to kill me, I ain't no fuckin rat,” he spat at me and the shit landed on my Tom Ford shirt.

I took my .45 out and started pistol whipping him. Grilla put the gag back in his mouth. I picked up a pair of rusty pliers from an old tool box that was on the floor, and Lou held his hand down. He’d seen me do shit like this before, so he knew what I was doing. I clipped off his pinky finger. This nigga was jumping around in the chair like a fuckin basketball. “Now, where’s Antoine? My niggas here said they caught you snooping around my grandmother’s house.” I stabbed his knee with a screwdriver, and left it in there. I pulled off the gag. It sounded like he wanted to say something.

“Fuck you nigga. I heard your bitch got smoked. I wish it was me who did it.” I wiggled the screwdriver around in his leg.

“Damn Birdie, you supposed to be that nigga, Mr. go hard. Now look at you, tied up, getting your ass whopped.”

"I’m still that nigga, you fuckin faggot." I had to admit, his punk ass had heart. Here he is facing death, and he’s still talking shit. I picked up the pliers again and started cutting off the rest of his fingers. There was blood everywhere. He passed out. I cracked his head with my .45 and he woke back up. I wanted to look this nigga in his eyes when I deaded his ass.

“Wake up, sleepy head. My father told me when I was a kid, you look a man in his eye if you gonna take his life. I don’t want to take that away from you.” I put two in his head, kicked the chair backwards and he landed on the floor. I was gonna have to burn my clothes and shoes for evidence purposes. I told Lou to bring me my bag out the car. I always kept extra clothes and shoes for reasons like this. After I changed and had Grilla burn my clothes, I told them to drop Birdie’s body off at his mom’s house, in pieces, when it got dark.

I left to go to my house in Soufeast. I checked my phone and I had three missed calls from Lisa. This bitch was irking my nerves. I told her to get rid of that fuckin baby and she keeps giving me excuses. I know if Keisha finds out about this shit, she won’t want to fuck with a nigga.

I called her back, “What Lisa? Why the fuck you blowing my phone up?”

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