Page 51 of June: When Gangstas Collide

A woman’s voice sang so beautifully that it made me feel emotional. It was as if every word she crooned was meant for me. When I stepped into the church, I stood at the sanctuary door. I blew out a sharp breath because I wanted to turn around. I wanted to leave and not be in this place, but my feet could only go forward.

My hands began to flail. My emotions were doing a number on me. My lips began to tremble, and my knees buckled. I pushed the door open to the bright light beaming down on me. Preach stood there as his eyes widened when he saw me.

“My God, today.”

I felt like all eyes were on me, but right now God wanted me to be here, and to be honest, a nigga needed him. My feet felt heavy as I made my way down the aisle. Preach began to talk as the girl was singing, and the two together had this hood nigga weak. I couldn’t break, I just couldn’t, but my nigga’s words hit me and hit me hard.

“God said, Humble thyself! Come to him bare. Strip it all away and come to him with every problem, every worry, every heartbreak, and every part of your pain,”

he hummed and continued.

“You are not alone,”

he paused as he began to step down from the pulpit, staring at me.

“I said you are not alone.”

My head dropped forward as one tear came out of my eye. I began to think about every single piece of pain I had stored in me. The pain had a shackle on my life. I began to think about all of the trials and how those have cost me Zaria. I thought about how I felt like dying was bad, but the reality was, it wasn’t the cancer that was killing me; it was Chevy killing June. It was I killing myself when all I had to do was live.

I had missed the entire purpose of what God had put me through when I had cancer. It took him to strip me of every single thing, down to my name, for me to see it. I tried catching another tear that rolled out of my eyes, but they were coming down so fast I no longer cared. I was a broken nigga trying to find happiness in a world that didn’t love a broken nigga back. I was a man who didn’t take pride in his name until the name was taken away from me. I was a ruler who was ruling with no boundaries. I was a king whose crown had fallen and knew I couldn’t put it back together by myself, a man with a hand-picked family who went searching for a family that didn’t care for him. I was June Calloway, a man who was built for the storm, but found refuge in Chevy, who shielded me from something I was meant to go through.

I felt Preach’s hand on my shoulder.

“Let it out, brother. Let God have it. You’ve controlled enough. He loves you, June. I love you. Set yourself free.”

Suddenly, I dropped to my knees and my head leaned forward until it touched the floor. My shoulders bounced up and down as I cried. I cried for the little boy I had set free, I cried for every dark night, I cried for my riches, and I cried for my unborn sons. I cried for Zaria, not giving her the June she needed. I had cried over the death of the old nigga who no longer lived inside of me.

“God, I’m sorry,”

I sobbed against the floor.

“I’m sorry. I want her back. I want my kids, I want my name. Humble me God,” I cried.

“Yes, tell him!”

Preach said into the mic.

He then whispered in my ear, “She’s here. God heard you, Chev.”

I didn’t want to lift my head because I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to lift my head because I was ashamed, but when he said she was here, I had to. With tearful eyes, I glanced up at Z on her knees in front of me.

“You came to church?”

she whispered.

I couldn’t speak, all I could do was lay my head on her belly and cry more. I was tired, broken and knew I couldn’t do this alone. Preach stood over us, letting his hand wave back and forth.

“Mighty God, I ask that you give this couple strength. With all their imperfections, Lord, make their union stronger. Bless them. They have humbled themselves before you. Exalt them, Lord! Let the church say, Amen.”

Zaria held me tightly as she kissed the top of my head.

“Can we go home so we can talk?”

Whatever it is she wanted to do, I would do it. Zaria was the missing piece to my life, and her leaving me wasn’t an option. I needed her like I needed air, and there was nobody in this orange world who could replace her spot. I stood, then helped her up. I turned to Preach, hugged him, “I’m proud of you, Chevy. You needed this. I love you and Z, bro. Know that whenever you need God, all you have to do is talk to him. It doesn’t have to be here, just talk to him.”

“I love you, too. Thank you.”

Z and I began to walk out of the church when Cynthia stood in front of the door. Her eyes were sad. I knew she wanted me to forgive her. Her mouth trembled as she cried. Instead of lying in the church, I walked past her. Cynthia and Clark were going to get what was coming to them, but tonight it was about me and Zaria.

“I made it,”

Indigo said joyfully.

“Good. You take it one day at a time, and if you need me, Indigo, for anything, call me.”

She laughed.

“Bishop, you’ve done enough. I will be fine. Kiss London for me and don’t forget to send me pictures of her. I love you, Bishop.”

I took a deep sigh.

“I love you the long way, Indigo.”

She hung up the phone, leaving me sitting in my car, not sure how to feel. She sounded happy and I guess I couldn’t be mad at that. I know we both agreed, but there was still that part of me that didn’t want her to leave. I wanted to keep her in my pocket to hold on as tightly as I could. I sparked my blunt as I waited for tonight’s guest to arrive.

“Is she good?”

Anthony asked.

I took long pulls of my blunt as I turned to look at him.

“Yeah, she’s good,”

I said as the smoke escaped my lips with my words.

He nodded. Anthony and I sat in the car while we waited for Naheem to show up. I didn’t want Anthony to be here, but he wanted to be. I knew his feelings for Naheem were much different than mine, but he insisted. I handed him the blunt while my mind went into a different zone. I began to think about how Chevy showed up at my crib searching for his girl. I wanted to be an asshole. I wanted to roar as loud as I could in his face, but I remembered a time when I was in his very same shoes while on the hunt for Indigo. That moment humbled me, and I guess him at the same time.

I could hear my brother blowing out smoke, then talking.

“You always be taking trips and shit?”

Although he had a slur, you could understand what he was saying; you just had to listen slowly. I turned to look at him.

“Yeah. I like to get away for the summer. Travel and shit, take pictures of different things.”

“Ah, so you like uh what they call it, photography?”

I laughed. “Yeah.”

“Square ass,”

he paused.

“You should come meet your nephews. Tavaris looks just like your ass.”

Since Lani had the babies, I hadn’t seen them because I didn’t know how I felt about the whole thing since she had started messing with the nigga. However, I was trying to turn a new leaf. I ran my hand down the back of my head.

“Yeah, I’ll slide through.”

“Bet.”

When the headlights pulled onto the street, I knew it was go time. I glanced back at Anthony.

“You ready?”

“Stay ready.”

He flicked the blunt out the window as we both got out of the car and stood in front of it. Naheem parked and got with a fake ass smile on his face.

“Both my sons are meeting me, what do I owe the pleasure?”

I stepped forward.

“If that’s what you call it.”

He turned to look at the bando. The very house where Anthony and I had spent time with him before we became disposable.

“I hadn’t seen this property in so long. So many memories, ones I don’t want to remember,”

he drifted off.

“And it’s why I never looked back.”

Anthony came alongside me.

“Welcome home, Pops.”

Naheem eased his way onto the overgrown lawn as he stared at the house. His thoughts had to be somewhere still in there because the more he stared, the further he went until he was by the dilapidated door. Anthony and I looked at each other before going behind him. As soon as Naheem stepped foot inside the house, I drew my fist back, hitting his ass in the back of the head. His body fell forward and hit the floor.

“Welcome home, Dad!” I barked.

He struggled to get up.

“You ungrateful muhfucka!”

My size twelve and a half impaled his stomach.

“Grateful for what nigga!”

Anthony’s hand landed on my arm.

“Ease up, Bishop.”

Here we go. This is what I was afraid of, Anthony intervening with my plans. My eyes landed on Anthony. He held his hand against my chest, “Let the nigga explain.”

“Yeah, Bishop, let me explain,”

Naheem gritted.

Naheem held his side as he lifted.

“Fuck is wrong with you. This is how you do the nigga who gave you life.”

“Naheem, nigga, you ain’t nothing but a sperm donor. You talk about Angela, but yo ass ain’t no better.”

Naheem staggered back, “I-I was much better than that bitch. The same bitch who slept with my best friend. The same bitch who didn’t want either one of you niggas.”

I glanced at my brother as he glanced at me. He slowly walked toward Naheem.

“But you didn’t want us either nigga!”

Anthony barked so loud that the wood in the house began to crack.

Naheem pointed to Anthony.

“Oh, so the nigga got to yo ass too. I should have let them come get yo ass and lock you—”

Anthony’s hand lifted and came down on Naheem’s face.

“Y’all fucked me up!”

he shouted.

I unbuttoned my suit jacket and took it off.

“Yeah! Now what? The nigga who thinks he’s invincible,”

I said as I began to roll up my expensive shirt sleeve.

“The scheming as nigga who ain’t no better than the bitch who didn’t want his ass,”

I taunted him as I moved forward.

Blood oozed from his nose and mouth as his eyes widened because he knew he had met his fate. He started to move around the house until he tripped over a piece of wood, causing him to fall. Khas’s body still tilted in the chair where I left his ass had finally fallen right beside Naheem.

“Why us?”

Anthony asked.

Naheem tried backing up, “I loved both of you. I-I tried—”

I laughed.

“You ain’t try shit. You tried covering up your wrongs, but the damage was already done. Naheem, you have destroyed us. I mean, I’m sad about my mother, but you did us a favor. Now let us repay you.”

I pulled a blade from my pocket and squatted in front of him. I flicked it open, spun it, brought my hand up, and drove it right into his hand and the wood flooring. The sounds of Naheem’s screams were quite satisfying. Anthony pulled his hood off his head as he too pulled a knife.

He stood over Naheem, gripping his face. Naheem used his free hand to hit Anthony, so I kicked that nigga in his face.

“Don’t put your hands on my brother nigga! You wanted a two-for-one muhfucka, you got it.”

Stomp!

My foot slammed on his face, breaking the bones in it.

Stomp!

I stomped his ass again. This time, teeth flew across the floor.

Stomp!

Blood shot from his mouth as he gasped. Naheem’s head dribbled on the wood flooring. He sucked in a sharp breath to try to breathe. I tapped Anthony’s shoulder, “Come on, let’s go,”

I paused before turning back to look at Naheem.

“You're going to die here. Just as our souls died here, the day you decided we were better off elsewhere. Maybe now you can spend time with the old us.”

Anthony and I began to walk off.

“Don’t you think I deserve a second chance?”

he slurred, sounding almost identical to Anthony after I impaled his face.

I didn’t even bother to turn around.

“Remember what you told me? You do not forgive those who do you dirty. You seek revenge until you feel satisfied. Fuck you, Naheem Avery.”

My special guest had arrived, meeting Anthony and me at the door. He eyed both of us, and I nodded. He walked past Anthony and me. The sound of the bullets echoed loudly throughout the broken-down house.

Bloaw! Bloaw! Bloaw! Bloaw! Bloaw!

“That’s for the number of years I had with my Daddy nigga before you took him away from me,”

Bleek mumbled.

There was no way I was going to let Naheem die without Bleek experiencing it. We left the house, leaving Naheem trapped where he’d left his heart.

Anthony grabbed the gas can and splashed gasoline against the outside of the house. Once he was done, I lit one of Naheem’s favorite cigars, took a few pulls, and tossed it at the house. Any memories I had of this place I wanted gone. With both our parents gone, there was no remorse because the reality was they never arrived in the first place.