Jackie D. - Life After A Balla

“Who’s this?”

“What up, Cruze? It’s me…Kareem.”

“Damn, Kareem what’s going on? Your mother told me you asked for my number.”

“Umm…yeah I really needed to holla at you. How is everything going?” Kareem tried his best not to sound alarmed.

“I’m trying to maintain. I miss your mom so bad though. I’m glad you called me. I want to apologize to you. You know the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you guys.”

“Yeah, we all make mistakes. But you need to try and make this right things right with my mom because we miss you.”

Cruze paused before speaking. Kareem’s remark had sent up a red flag.

Kareem never wanted me around and now suddenly misses me? Something doesn’t sound right, he thought.

“Cruze, I need to see you. I have something to talk to you about.”

“What’s wrong? Is it something that can be talked about over the phone?”

“No, I need to talk to you in person. It’s really important though. I hear you’re back in Miami.”

“Yeah, I’ve been out here for a while now, trying to win your mom over.”

Kareem looked at Dre to make sure he was listening. “So, you’re back in Miami?”

Cruze hesitated for a second. “Kareem, what’s up man? Is everything okay? I just answered that question.”

“Everything’s cool. So, where are you staying?”

Feeling like something wasn’t right, Cruze decided not to tell Kareem his whereabouts just yet. “I’m floating around. Just call me when you wanna hook up.”

“Okay, so you want me to call you?” Kareem mimicked.

“Why are you repeating everything I say? Is something wrong, Kareem?” Cruze asked once again.

“Yes, I’ll call you back once I’m ready. Good talking to you,” Kareem replied before the phone went dead.

Dre pushed Kareem out of the bathroom into the living room were Felicia was pacing the floor. She was pissed off that Dre had shot his gun into her expensive Solistone ceramic ceiling tile.

“Dre, I’m not so sure about all this now. I think we should just let him go,” she complained.

“Let him go? Go look in the mirror at your damn face, Felicia. If I hadn’t rushed over here when I did that nigga woulda killed you! You crazy if you think I’m doin’ all this shit for nothin’.”

Kareem looked at Felicia hard and long. He really had no intention on hurting her like that. He was so hurt that she’d betrayed him, he ultimately lost it. At that moment, Kareem realized that he did have a lot of his father’s ways instilled in him. The thought of being anything like Sandino made him feel terrible. When Felicia noticed the way Kareem was staring at her, she looked away. Dre also noticed.

“Is something wrong, nigga? You upset that she turned you out, huh? Did you fall in love? Well, it was all part of the plan to use your dumb ass so we could find out information. But if you ever put your hands on her again I swear I’ll kill your ass.” Dre punched Kareem in the face to let him know he meant business. “Felicia, go pack a bag we about to drive to Miami.”

“Drive? Are you serious? Do you know how long that’s going to take? Can’t we fly?”

“We can’t fly, this nigga might try to snitch or run. Plus, I can’t carry my guns on the plane. We gotta drive and hopefully this shit will go smooth, if not we might be driving back with a dead body in the trunk.”

Dre backed his brothers BMW into the garage and hit the remote waiting for the door to go down. He then got out of the car and entered the house through the garage. He walked into the room where Kareem was tied up to a chair.

“I’m about to untie your legs. If you try to run I swear to God I’ll go shoot your mother right in the fuckin’ head! Do you understand?”

Kareem looked at Dre wishing he could kill him. “Yeah.”

“If you cooperate I’ll let your family live again,” Dre told him.

Kareem wondered what he meant by he would let them live again. Dre must have read his mind because he began to answer his question.

“You see young blood, your father sent me here to Georgia to find y’all and take your mother out. At that time I wasn’t up to killing nobody, but that was then. I got much more money on the line now. So I need to know where my brother’s body is so I can collect on it,” Dre explained.

Dre was so wrapped up with talking about money, he didn’t hear Felicia when she walked into the room wearing a pair of Prada sunglasses, jeans, a cute top, six inch Giuseppe heals and rolling her designer luggage. Dre shook his head. It looked like she was going on vacation with her girls instead of on a mission looking for her husband’s body. Felicia was the true definition of a Diva even with all the bruises she’d sustained from Kareem fists, she still looked like a runway model.

Kareem stood up when Dre released his legs even though his hands were still bound.

“Remember what I told you. Don’t do anything stupid,” Dre said, pushing Kareem through the house and towards the garage door. When Dre saw Felicia getting comfortable in the front passenger’s seat of the car he stopped her. “What you doing Felicia? You have to drive so I can keep my eye on him.”

Felicia looked at Dre like he was crazy. “Oh no no no. I know you don’t expect me to drive. This shit was your idea, remember?”

“Well, would you rather sit and hold the gun on your lover boy?”

Felicia shook her head no once again. She wasn’t touching that gun in fact this whole trip wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. She huffed and puffed before finally walking around to the driver’s seat. Even though she felt Kareem staring at her when she passed him, she got into the car without looking at his face. Dre pushed Kareem into the passenger’s seat and pulled down the visor so he could watch him through the mirror. He then climbed in the back. Felicia started the ignition and hit the garage remote.

“Make a move or try somethin’, and I’ll blow your ass away,” Dre said as they pulled out.

Four hours into the drive, Dre could see Kareem eyeballing him through the mirror on the visor as he kept fidgeting around in the front seat.

“What the fuck do you keep movin’ around for up there? We just pulled over so you could piss about a hour ago! That nigga up to somethin’. Yo’ Felicia, pull the car over, I’m sick of this muthafucka!” Dre demanded.

Felicia wondered what he was up too and looked at him in the rear view mirror. “Why, what you getting ready to do, Dre?” she asked concerned.

“Just pull over!”

As soon as Felicia pulled the car onto the side of the highway, Dre told her to pop the trunk. She reached down and hit the switch, wondering what he was getting ready to do. Dre looked around to make sure no other cars were coming. When the coast was clear he got out then walked to the front of the car, snatching the passenger door open. He bent down and ripped a piece of duct tape off the roll in the front seat and put in on Kareem’s mouth, pulling him out of the car.

“Let’s go, nigga,” Dre said, pushing him toward the back of the car. “Get your ass in the trunk.” He wanted Kareem to hurry up before another car came by.

Kareem stood there looking at Dre like he wasn’t getting inside. A few minutes later, he took off running trying to get back into the front seat. Felicia could see the frightened look on Kareem’s face when he tried to get back inside. Suddenly, Dre grabbed the back of his shirt and slung him against the car, hitting him in the stomach with several vicious blows. Kareem fell to the ground in pain.

“Now, get your ass in that trunk before it gets worse.”

“Why are you doing that?” Felicia yelled.