The Hood Will NEVER Love You (HDLY#3)

Chapter eleven

Train was trying to catch the voice on the other side of the door. It dawned on him and he almost busted out laughing.

"Tone!" Train called out towards the door.

"Oh, I see you remembered a nigga," Tone said. "So open this door so we can continue the conversation we had a couple of months ago."

"There was no discussions," Train recalled, "You based up and I threw your punk ass out of a window. I hope you got those naps cut though."

Tone banged on the door. "Open this door and I see you a punk ass."

"Ok, but you just be proving my point," Train reiterated. "That you a punk ass."

Lushus backed away from the door. "I don't want none of this drama at my door. Go get your friend."

"That's not my friend," Train quickly corrected. "That's a stalker. He needs a hobby or something."

"Get away from my door!" Lushus yelled.

"Fuck you and that bitch in there," Tone said getting impatient. "Either open this door or I'm busting it down."

"Oh, hell nah, you ain't busting down shit" Lushus announced. "Train, please get your boy before I call the cops. Housing is not about to come up in here for a busted door because of one of your bitch ass friends that caught feelings."

"I told you he ain't my friend," Train corrected again. "He's a damn leech. I feel like Justin Bieber at a sweet sixteen party."

Train walked to the door. "Listen, homie, I'm giving you a chance I normally don't give people. I'm giving you a chance to back away from that door, walk out of the apartment and get that damn Chia Pet shit on your head cut."

Boom! Tone kicked the door.

"Fuck no, he didn't!" Lushus bellowed. "Now I'm getting my knife. I'm cutting that nigga."

Train looked back at Lushus. "Take Charmaine in the room. I'll handle this."

"Fuck no," Charmaine protested. "I'm not going into any smelly room trapped with this bitch."

"Bitch, please," Lushus snapped back. "It would be an honor to be trapped in a room with me."

"Ladies, please, take your asses in the room," Train gestured. "I have to deal Chef Boy-O-Peas outside."

Lushus huffed but grabbed Charmaine by the arm into her bedroom.

Train heard the bedroom door slammed and Train approached the front door. Train looked through the peephole slowly and saw Tone in the hallway looking irate, Train took a deep breath, clutched his pistol in hand and opened the door.

As soon as he did, Tone stepped back and four new dudes come from the sides and ambushed Train.

Train tried to lift up his gun but got hit in the jaw by one of the guys and fell back in the apartment.

Another leviathan of a man snatched the gun from Train and hit him again against the face.

Train hit the floor and heard the bedroom door opened.

"What the...Train!" Train heard what sounded like Charmaine yelling.

Train felt a kick in his stomach.

"Payback is a bitch, huh?" Tone smiled entering the apartment as his goons finished kicking Train in the stomach and ribs.

"Get the fuck off me!" Train heard the ladies rustling with one of the men and then felt Tone over him.

"You pissed off the wrong people," Tone said, "Now you're gonna get yours."

Train couldn't believe he let a punk like Tone get the drop on him. Let alone put Charmaine in harm's way.

Train could still her cursing and tussling with whoever was holding her.

"Control that bitch," Tone ordered one of the men that was handling Charmaine.

Train tried to get up but was hit in the head with a blunt object and fell back to the floor.

"You thought you could play me?" Tone babbled as he kicked Train again.

Train knew the moment that he got a hold of Tone, he would make sure Tone would pay by pulling out every peasy knot he had on his head one by one.

"Rile those bitches," Train heard stink breath Tone giving orders to his little goon squad,

But Train knew they wasn't Tone's henchmen. Tone was a buffed knucklehead that beat up on women. He wasn't no Boss or a person you show legion to, He was a coward and a derelict so why was he giving orders to niggas that would be using him for Slippery Sponge Games in the shower room at Riker's Island? Train couldn't figure it out but Train knew he shouldn't have been caught slipping.

Train felt someone grab him and Charmaine screaming then a loud slap. Wrong move! Train reacted. Whoever grabbed him to pick him up caught an elbow in the groin. Train used the leverage to raise up a little and knee the guy in the face when the goon leaned over.

Train got up ready for the next victim when he saw his own gun pointed at him with Tone at the trigger end of it.

"I wish you would, nigga," Tone said. "I could just say it was an accident."

"Nigga, you are an accident so is that tree stump on your head," Train replied.

"You really want to die tonight?" Tone asked.

"No but you do," Train heard someone say behind Tone.

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Street sat in the chair in front of Detective Stout's desk. Stout glanced up from his paperwork but didn't look directly at Street.

"What do you want?" Stout uttered flipping a page of a file sheet he had in front of him.

"Where's Thompson?" Street asked.

"Beats me," Stout said. "Took some vacation days. He's been feeling a sort of way since that crazy fuck offed himself in our bathroom."

"That was some sick shit, huh?" Street empathized.

"Not really," Stout replied. "Seen sicker shit in 'Nam. That was just some coward doing what he should have done a long time ago. He is the reason most of this shit started, First, his daughter, then his shop, then those disappearances, then that little surprise that was in that asshole's trunk."

"Yeah," Street nodded.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it," Stout said. "Shit's over. That coon putting a bullet in his brain is the least of my problems. No offense."

Street remained quiet.

"Look, anything you got to do with this department, talk to the Captain," Stout said now looking at Street. "Don't think I don't know your little bullshit is what got us here too. You in just as much shit as we were in but you dropped your load off and slithered away. So I'm going to say this is candid as possible. If I see your black ass back here again, it better be to bring us one of dope fiend homeys that just committed a murder or you in handcuffs for killing one of those scumbags yourself. Either way unless it's those two options, I will be reporting your actions to the Captain. Like my man Quentin Tarantino once said, 'This isn't nigger storage.'"

Street smiled. "I read you loud and clear."

Street rose from the chair he was sitting in. "Just give Detective Thompson my regards."

"Remember what I said," Stout said then went back to his paperwork.

"How can I forget it," Street mumbled walking away.

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