"Why y'all come over here rollin' deep as fuck, damn. Who died?" Eric scratched his head, staring at the immense group of people at his doorstep. I had to admit, we looked like a group of people who were about to fuck some shit up.
A dry chuckle erupted from D.O.C, "Wassup, E?" I gave him a quick glance before turning back to Eric. D.O.C wasn't the hardcore rapper changing the game that I'd hear on the radio in '88. He fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a tree face first, crushing his vocal chords. His voice was choppy and raspy, but personality wise, he was the same.
"This was poorly executed," I mumbled, and Dre sent me a questionable look.
"Y'all gonna come in or just stand there like a bunch of dumbasses?" Eric spat before heading inside his spacious home. We all piled in and somehow ended up in the theatre room where Die Hard With A Vengeance was paused. The lights became less dim and we were all in the front, by the large screen. Some of us sat, while others stood. "What's with all this cryptic shit? I know all y'all niggas ain't genuinely wanna kick it with me."
The atmosphere thickened, and I had a weird feeling. It was neither a bad or good feeling, I felt unreal. Like I wasn't there. I had Eric's medical records in my hand, just the ones we needed. And I handed it to him, saying, "Now Eric, let's be real. We all know you like to have sex." He nodded at my words and chuckled, "Everybody know that! You tryna test that theory?" He joked as he skimmed over the files.
Ren sucked his teeth, "Nah bro, chill. She mine's." He came by me, wrapping his arm around me all protective-like.
"That ain't neither here or there," I writhed from his grasp and he held his arms up as if he were to say, 'What?'. A few of the others laughed.
"Foreal, what is this?" Eric said as he frowned. "My trips to the doctor from this year, so what?" He shrugged, handing me back the files.
"Yeah, but," I pulled out the first page in particular, "Your first visit prior to getting sick. You were fine, but, a needle puncture was on your arm. This was literally 5 days before you were hospitalized. If you were to contract the disease sexually, the illness would've built up overtime. It's like it just came outta nowhere." I informed him, but the puzzled look stayed plastered on his face. I just stare at him, it seemed as if he was a loss for words.
"What are you sayin', Kuneka?" It was like as if he was catching on, but hadn't fully grasped the idea as of yet. I was unsure how to tell him what the real deal was, so I looked at Dre. He simply just gestured his hand as if were to say, "Ok?".
Dre then said, "We believe Suge tried to kill you, E."
"Nigga, how?" Eric cordially questioned us.
The others were kind of pissing me off, what'd you come here for if you weren't willing to offer support? It wasn't as easy as I portrayed it to be. "Tainted syringes." I said as a matter of fact-ly, folding my arms prior to taking a deep breath. Eric just simply dragged his eyes frantically between the 7 of us, no one saying a word.
"What, man? You not saying that, that he poked me with a needle?" Eric's face flushed with color, looking sick all over again. My stomach became queasy and tight, as if it were to collapse. The room started to spin as I contemplated over what I just informed him.
After achieving a numb feeling, I had yet to realize Eric was gone, and had went upstairs while a few went after him. "Yo, E!" I heard Dre call out as I tried to keep up. Pacing up the cream carpeted stairs, I jogged down the hall, passing up Dre, Yella, Ren, D.O.C, and Cube. I then had entered Eric's room, only to find him just entering his walk in closet.
"Eric," I said huskily, as I was out of breath. He didn't respond, he opened some sort of small door, which I think led to a small room as he disappeared into the dark. Just as I was about to follow, he came out with 3 duffle bags; one hung from his mouth, and one in each hand. He only made quick eye contact with me as he closed the door with his foot.
Throwing each bag on the bed, he gradually opened one, only to reveal several guns. There were endless amounts, in all 3 bags, from small to gigantic. "Eric?" I furrowed my eyebrows and stared at him. He just took hold of one of the larger guns, and systematically released the bullets from his other hand, placing them accordingly.
"MR 5.56," Eric mumbled, after loading the gun up.
"What?" I asked, his words incomprehensible.
"His favorite gun." Dre said from the doorway.
I just stayed silent, somewhat frightened.
"I never told y'all this," Eric said as he fished out another gun, "Suge called me, earlier this year. Talmbout' some contracts. And shit, I'm like, talk to Jerry. He like naw, I wanna talk to you. I leave the crib, meet that nigga at Deathrow. He got niggas all huddled up. He told me if I didn't release. Dre and D.O.C from Ruthless, he was gone change me. Shit, I ain't know what that meant, but them niggas jumped me."
We all just stared at Eric, unsure of what to say. D.O.C just grasped his jaw while shaking his head, while Dre just stared with a blank expression.
Eric dryly chuckled, "I told that nigga Jerry I was gon' kill Suge. Can't believe I let him stop me, shit, he can't stop me now." Eric took a duffle bag, and started to head for the door.
"Woah, woah, woah!" I jumped in front of him. "You crazy?" I held my arms up to keep him from going further.
"What fuckin' choice do I have, huh? Kuneka please, tell me." Eric asked with sarcasm. At a loss for words, I just let out a huff, running a hand through my hair. He then went around me, only to be stopped by Ren.
"I want this nigga dead as much as you do, E. But we gotta map this shit out, yo." Ren bluntly explained.
"Who know what that nigga got for us?" Cube added in, referring to Suge.
It was all just one big issue that made me want to vomit. I had wished I was never in it, but then again, if it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have known the truth.
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I really need to work on closing chapters lol :/
Enjoy !!
