Page 6 of He Thugged Me First

MAZZ

I had been running these streets too long.

I knew this because I was spending too much of my time trying to figure out what the hell was next.

The only reason I was at Canez the other night was to check in.

My ass should’ve been home with Mel. It was my night, but she begged me to stay with Dolly.

I let her though because she loved the old woman, and I trusted her with her.

I had niggas keeping eyes on the spot anyways.

Dolly was the lady in the hood who would feed a nigga if he was hungry and even let Kasair, Quari, and me sit in her crib if the spot was hot.

All she ever asked was that no bullshit hit her door.

When it was just Mel, Mecca, and me, numerous times she let them stay at her crib while I was in the streets all night.

She was the hood’s grandma as well as Gayze and Nadeen’s.

She cared for any and everybody, which over the years made me love her for that.

The thing is, the old woman was stubborn, and you couldn’t tell her shit.

I’d stop by with breakfast most mornings and even take her to the doctor or to run some errands when needed, but she had pride, and she was stubborn.

She didn’t like people doing much for her, which made me wanna do it all for her.

I found it odd as fuck that she didn’t even mention Gayze being back, or that I’d been taking her to Gayze’s hospital.

The old woman had jokes. The knocking on the door interrupted me from my thoughts.

When I looked up, it was the lil’ red bone thick ass nurse who I’d been giving hell.

I didn’t give a fuck though. I was ready to get the hell outta here, but she kept screaming doctor’s orders.

Fuck a doctor’s orders if Gayze wouldn’t bring her thick pretty ass in here and face me herself.

She was avoiding the fuck out of me, and that made me laugh, but I understood why.

She knew our chemistry and how we gravitated, so there was no possible way for her to be near me and stay mad at me about past shit, or was there?

If I remembered correctly, she held grudges and could hold one until the death of her.

Just that alone made me smile and travel to back then.

“You shouldn’t be here. My mom would kill both of us.”

I glanced over at Gayze as she sat on the sofa near the door in Ms. Dolly’s front bedroom.

“You want me to leave, Gayze?” I asked, walking up on her.

“No, but I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“Don’t worry about shit when it comes to me.

” I shook my head. She was so fucking pure and caring that I couldn’t really even be near her.

I felt like I was damaged and I’d mess her up if I did.

It was something about the idea of all that you needed to stay away from that made me need to be around her more .

That annoying ass nurse fucked up my flashback with her voice.

“Mr. Carson, Dr. Fields refuses to sign your discharge papers. She says you need more?—”

“Tell Gayze to bring her ass in here and tell me that shit herself, or I’m walking the fuck up outta here by two.”

The nurse didn’t say another word. Instead, she stalked right out of my room and left.

Hours Later

Gayze never came and discharged me or tried to make me stay, so I did what I said I was going to do.

I had things to handle, and sitting in a hospital bed while my stitches healed wasn’t a part of my plans.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been shot, but I damn sure was trying to make sure it was the last. Some niggas lived for this shit.

I didn’t. I had other things that clouded my brain on a day to day.

The moment I left the hospital, I pulled up to Canez.

I was never the type to gun for retaliation, because shit like this didn’t happen to me.

The thing is, I needed to see the cameras and decipher if somebody was gunning for me, or if I was standing my silly ass in the wrong space.

That night, I was definitely around a lot of people that I didn’t know from a can of paint.

I needed to know that before I gave any orders or even talked to Kasair or Quari.

I wasn’t even shocked when I walked in my office and Quari was sitting at my desk peering into my computer. When I turned around, Kasair was walking out of my washroom drying his hands.

“Fuck y’all niggas doing here?” I asked with a smirk as I walked over and took a seat on the sofa.

A nigga was winded as fuck, and I felt that pain.

I probably shouldn’t have left the hospital, but I was glad I did because of moments like this.

Had I not come here, they damn sure wouldn’t have told me they were here looking.

Kasair and Quari were like the hardheaded little brothers you told one thing and they did another.

“Handling business,” Quari responded, never taking his eyes from the monitor. My guess was that he was looking at the videos.

I laughed. “Even when y’all knew?—”

“C’mon now, Mazz. If a nigga took shots, then you knew what it was. He did too. You wanna let it go if they weren’t aiming at you.” Kasair shook his head.

“But if a nigga was aiming ya way, what you want us to do? Overlook that too?” Quari looked like he didn’t like the sound of that.

“What is the monitor showing?” I asked.

“Not a damn thing. Who the fuck installed this shit? You have too many blinds spots.” He screwed his face up.

I cut my eyes, looking at both of them. “Look, every action doesn’t deserve a reaction. Yeah, I took a bullet, but I’m still here, right? So we take that with a grain of salt. If a nigga was actually gunning for me, then he would’ve tried to finish the job instead of firing in a full club, right?”

“You on that Thich Nhat Hanh shit, ain’t you?” Quari asked.

I laughed.

“Mazz, he’s a monk. You’re a drug dealer. Big fucking difference. He died at ninety-four from a stroke, and niggas are out here tryna take you out ya glow at thirty-one with a bullet.”

“Do I even wanna know how yo’ ass know so much about this man?” Kasair glanced over at Quari.

“Love had a paper on him.” Quari shrugged.

“Look, we already have things going on that we need to focus on. As of right now, we ain’t focusing on a bitch nigga who couldn’t do his job.

” I was dead ass serious about this. In this game, both Quari and Kasair had to control their actions and emotions.

Everything didn’t deserve a reaction. The streets loved nobody, and this game was definitely gonna test them, but it was up to them to either roll with the punches or fold like all the rest of these ordinary niggas.

I talked to them for a while longer until I looked down and saw that the gauze on me was bloody. Fuck! Maybe shorty was right.

MECCA

I smiled at him as he sat across from me, raving about what he wanted to be.

His dreams and aspirations brought nothing but joy and warmth to my being because I was just that type of person.

He was everything that I probably should’ve wanted in a man, everything that I could handle because I knew him.

I knew when he was lying and most of all when he was hiding the truth.

Yes, lying and hiding the truth were two different things.

Lying was when you boldly didn’t tell the truth.

Hiding the truth was when you didn’t create an untruth, nor did you acknowledge the truth.

Hopefully, that makes sense. The funny thing is, I, for some reason, continued to attract these men who would rather hide the truth than be honest. First Kasair, now Justice.

The funny thing is, in reality, they were the same man, except in most moments, Justice tried to promise me the world.

What he didn’t understand was that I wanted no such thing.

I was a vibe chaser. I just liked to vibe and enjoy a person’s presence.

That was literally it. I didn’t need for him to make me his woman or show anyone that he was serious about me.

Hell, I wasn’t even serious about him, or at least I didn’t think so.

With Kasair, it was different. I loved him too much, and it hurt.

I loved him so much that I acted out of character.

He brought out anger in me that I didn’t know existed until I caught feelings for him.

“C’mon, I wanna show you something.” He stood and reached for my arm across the table.

I stood and grabbed his hand as he threw a few bills on the table and we walked off.

We didn’t eat or anything; we just had coffee and tea.

It was a slam poetry event that he’d invited me to.

I thought he was gonna get on the stage, but he didn’t.

Instead, he and I sat there and watched the raw talent spill from the stage.

We had been walking for a while when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw that it was my brother.

“Gimme a minute.” I excused myself and stepped to the said.

“Yeah, Mazz.” I answered before glancing over at Justice. He was tapping away on his cellphone while I stood a few feet away from.

“You think you and that nigga make sweet poetry and music? Just wait until I knock his ass off and his mom asks Maya Angelou to write the obituary.”

“Why are you calling me from Mazz’s phone? And just to let you know, she is dead, dumb ass.”

“You ’ont think I know that? You walked around the crib crying for about two weeks. Any fucking ways, take yo’ ass home, or I swear his moms will be crying by midday lottery time.”

I looked at the phone and shook my head. I hated his stupid ass so much that it made my skin crawl. Unfortunately, I believed him and played right into his hand after I hung up on him. He was about to have me block my brother’s number too, because now that was how he got in contact with me.

“Is everything cool?” Justice asked when I walked back over to him and he intertwined his hand into mine.