Page 40 of Welcome to the Table

Hellcat

I was gon’ handle this shit with my two hittas with me.

Calliope didn’t need to get his hands dirty because I knew he was stirring up some shit on top of dealing with the shit with Klarity, but I couldn’t care less about that dead bitch.

She was probably a snake anyway. I knew my sister had a thirst for blood, just like me, but she was quiet with her shit.

But now that Melph was gone, it was up and stuck.

I didn’t want her in this shit because she could easily become a casualty, but I knew she could protect herself with or without me.

I taught her everything she needed to know about knives because she said a gun was too heavy.

I was in deep thought about the phone call that I got when we were sitting in the car.

One of my hittas, Nino, called to notify me that a few Colombian looking niggas were in the club handing out lil baggies of coke.

Motherfuckers didn’t listen. We didn’t even seal the deal, and they wanted to go over our head and get shit started.

My hand started twitching as my leg shook because I wanted to have a peaceful day with the shopping and shit, but motherfuckers always wanted to test my fucking gangsta. They were about to find out.

My mind also went to Raven. I wanted her bad as fuck, but something about her had me hesitant to fuck with her.

That nigga was all in her face, and who the fuck was he?

I didn’t know if I could trust her, but I would in due time.

I was drawn to her, and I couldn’t explain the shit.

I needed to find out who that nigga was before I went with my move.

My mind was running a mile a minute. I hadn’t even realized that we were behind the club.

“Nigga is you present, or do you need a minute to gather yourself?” I heard Hollygrove say, and I snapped out of my thoughts.

“He's ready,” Jaci said from the backseat.

I didn’t answer and hopped out of the car. Hollygrove hopped out too, and I saw his two guns in his back.

“You stay yo’ ass here. If we take more than twenty minutes, you know what to do,” I told Jaci, and she nodded.

She was always willing to ride, but I always kept her hidden so they wouldn’t see her coming. My secret weapon. A lot of people didn’t even know we had a little sister, but I guess they were about to find out if these niggas didn’t stop trying to mark our territory.

We walked in through the back door that led to a secret path to a soundproof room.

I texted Nino, letting him know to meet us there to discuss what the fuck was going on.

Hollygrove stood off to the side in the dark as I stood under the light that hung from the ceiling.

I had my arms crossed over my chest, waiting for him to come through the heavy door. I heard the click and knew it was him.

Nino was someone I could trust to run shit smoothly in the club during my absence.

He was the lieutenant for this club and handled the day-to-day, so we wouldn’t have to.

He walked up with his dreads covering his face and chains hanging from his jeans with a plain black tee.

The nigga’s pupils were black, and I knew he had death creeping inside him.

His skin was charcoal black, and on a regular day, his eyes were hazel, but not today.

He was in kill mode. He walked straight to me and stopped.

I knew the nigga had guns all over his body.

“I know that nigga Grove somewhere around. What’s up, nigga?”

He didn’t speak back, and I wanted to laugh. I waved my hand around to cut the fucking pleasantries.

“What’s good, Nino? What you got for me?” I asked him.

“Boom, I come into Hustlers, and I notice all the fucking dancers moving slow as fuck. I looked around, and I didn’t notice any regulars, so that put me on high alert.

I grabbed one of the strippers off the main stage and took her to the back.

I looked in her eyes, and her pupils were dilated.

It wasn’t from no fucking pills either,” he said, and I was losing the little cool I had left.

“Nigga, keep fucking talking. I got shit to do,” I told him.

“I asked the bitch what the fuck she was on, and she pulled a little baggie out the back of her bra strap and put it in my hand. There was a black Scorpion on it, so I knew it wasn’t from down this way.

I dragged her back to the bar, and she pointed out the bartender who gave it to her,” he finished, and my skin grew hot.

These mutts really were trying me like a war wouldn’t start before they could get a fucking seat, but I had something for their asses.

“Bring the fucking bartender to me now!” I yelled.

This was the shit I paid motherfuckers to do. This nigga shouldn’t even be still serving drinks. I grabbed the chair to my left, and Grove came out of the shadows with the fucking duct tape.

“They are going too far, and we about to make an example and send a fucking message. The meeting will go as planned, but we got a trick for their asses. They wanna play, then let the games begin,” Grove said with a grin on his face.

This nigga had transformed. I loved this shit with my nigga with me. That shit was like an adrenaline rush. Shit made my dick hard. I heard a thud, and Nino walked down the stairs, dragging the bartender with him, kicking and screaming.

“Put this nigga in the chair,” I told Nino.

I couldn’t see the bartender’s face, but I would when he sat down.

“Please, man, don’t kill me. I was just sent to do a job,” he said.

I laughed. He just told on himself. Made my job a little easier.

“I didn’t ask you shit yet, and you already telling, but who the fuck are you?

” I asked, then looked at Nino. “How the fuck this nigga got a fucking job anyway? You know to come to me first before hiring anybody. All the fucking bartenders are female, so why did you hire this nigga?” I had to hear his answer.

“He came in begging and shit, and I decided to.” That was all he said.

“Who the fuck gave you permission to hire niggas in my fucking club, nigga?” I barked at him, and he didn’t say shit.

“That’s what the fuck I thought. Tie this nigga up! Can you do that?” I told him, and he got to work.

I stood and watched Grove tie his wrists to the arms of the chair, and Nino tied his ankles. This nigga was begging, and I was laughing.

“Please, man, I will tell you everything that you wanna know. Just don’t kill me. I got a family back home that depends on me, and a sick daughter who needs the money for her cancer treatments. Please, man,” he begged.

I can’t lie, the cancer shit pulled at my heart strings, but not that much for me to spare this nigga’s life. He should have thought about all that before fucking with the Guerrilla. This wasn’t about to be an easy kill. I was about to torture this nigga.

“Nigga, you weren’t thinking about your family and sick daughter when you decided to cross the fucking seas to New Orleans and fuck with my money without my permission, did you?” I asked him as I walked around his body.

Nino looked like he wanted to piss himself, and I didn’t blame him. This was his fault, and he was gonna pay for his part when I was ready.

“Who the fuck sent you?” I asked, standing in front of him.

His head fell back like he didn’t want to tell, but he didn’t have a fucking choice. He raised his head.

Whap whap whap whap

I hit that nigga closed fist left then right, breaking both his jawbones. That shit was crooked, but I knew he could still talk. Blood seeped out of his mouth as his face hung like Frankenstein. His face swelled almost instantly.

“Nigga, you got ten minutes,” Grove reminded me.

I was so into it that I forgot Jaci’s ass was in the car. I gave him a look, and he started laughing.

“It was Fanucci. He sent me to scope everything out and see if I could start distro in the club,” the bartender slurred.

That pissed me off because this was the same nigga that Melph was supposed to trust. Jealousy would have a nigga selling his soul for power and money.

“Five minutes, nigga.” Grove laughed, and I ignored him.

“Who else in my fucking club with you?” I asked him.

He shook his head, and I knew there were others.

“Thiago,” he whispered, and I was confused.

This nigga wouldn’t bust a grape in a fucking fruit fight. They would send the weakest fucking link to do their dirty work, and I found the shit funny.

Thiago was the type of nigga who was the last resort, and I didn’t mean that shit in a good way.

He was scary as fuck and wouldn’t do shit unless his back was against the wall.

He was the scary son, and I knew that because he was never around.

This shit was deeper than having a seat at our table.

They knew their family would make millions with our connections, but I knew they couldn’t be trusted.

They thought because they had Melph safe that we owed them a favor, but that wasn’t how we operated.

We operated differently. Every seat at the table was for a different reason. If they were trying to take their seat, they were sadly mistaken because that’s the quickest way not to fucking get it.

“Any last words, motherfucker? And you better not beg for your life. You better say your prayers for your daughter because you ain’t leaving this bitch,” I told him as he screamed like a bitch.

I walked behind him, pulling his head back with my knife to his throat. I sliced and diced until his head was decapitated from his body, and in my hands. I had blood all over my shirt and hands.

“Fuck, man, I need another fucking shirt. I’m getting sloppy,” I said more to myself because I didn’t change into my gear that was on the table behind me.

“I got a shirt for you in my trunk from the other night,” Grove told me, and I nodded.

Blocka blocka blocka