The Ultimate Sacrifice 2 by Anthony Fields & Nuance Art

Author:Anthony Fields & Nuance Art
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, United States, crime fiction, African American, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Wahida Clark Presents Publishing
Published: 2011-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lil Cee

We walked out the front door and crossed the parking lot headed to Kia's car.

“There's a dude I need to holla at,” I told Kia. “He was locked up with me and I need his help.” I gave Kia directions to his neighborhood.

It took us about twenty minutes to get to Georgia Avenue and Rittenhouse Street. Kia made the left and cruised down the block. I spotted a crowd of dudes engaged in a crap game in the middle of the block. As we approached, everybody on the sidewalk looked in our direction. I was just about to tell Kia to keep going by until I spotted the dude that I came to see. He was behind the crap game leaning on a black cast iron gate.

“Stop right here,” I told Kia.

Everybody in the crap game that was kneeling stood up and some dudes even started reaching in their waistbands. I threw up my hands and said, “Whoa! I come in peace. I just need to holla at Ray.”

All eyes went to Raymond McCoy as he looked around them and squinted at me. “Lil Cee?” he said and came off the gate and walked into the street.

“What's up, slim?” I said and smiled.

Ray eyed me suspiciously. “Dawg, I heard some foul shit about you.”

“I already know what you gon’ say—”

“When you left me in Beaumont, where did you go, dawg?”

“After that shit happened, Garcia and nem’ had me moved to FDC Houston—”

“For what? If you wasn't wick—”

“Slim, as long as you knew me, you knew I was a man. Cold-blooded man. And I wasn't goin' for nothing. I ain't never in my life crossed a man that didn't deserve it and I ain't never told on a nigga. Never. Them peoples used me to make Ameen and nem’ tell on each other. They kept me locked away from everybody for two and a half years. I came home a month ago. But before I left, I went to court for Ameen and told them people that slim ain't do that shit. He beat that shit. Do your research, you'll see. My mother ain't raise no rat. If I was gon’ tell something, I'da told on them twenty-nine co-defendants I had. Feel me?”

“I feel you, dawg, and I believe you—it was just that—”

“—so many muthafuckas was saying that shit. I'm already hip. That's why I'm tryna find Khadafi, so I can break shit down to him and hope that he'll see the games them peoples played. I know how close y’all was. I know you seen slim since he been home or at least know how to get in touch with him.”

“Yeah, that's my man. I saw him when he came home the first time—”

“The first time?”

“Yeah. Back in ’08 Khadafi came home and blew up on some real gangsta shit real fast. Range Rovers and all that shit. Then he went back in on a domestic joint I heard. We hooked up a few times and went out to eat.

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