Tampa Black: Part ! Page 2

  “Trion!”

  Savoring her taste, Trion swallowed every drop of her sweetness…

  Knowing that he had just done his thing, Trion got up and stood in front of Keona allowing her to seductively undress him. Taking his shirt off revealing his toned body, Keona kissed his chest and stomach, tracing every tattoo with the tip of her tongue. Sliding off his pants and boxers, Keona’s eyes widened with satisfaction. The length of his manhood made her pussy get wet all over again.

  Taking him into her mouth, Keona almost gagged as Trion’s length reached the back of her throat. No longer able to take the pleasure, he removed himself from her mouth, before bending her over and penetrating her deep and long. As they both reached their climax, fireworks went off in more ways than one. Shots rang out through the projects so loud that you could feel the pulse of their echo…

  As that familiar feeling of unease washed over Trion, he kissed Keona on her forehead, got dressed and was out the door.

  Pulling up in front of his apartment building, his heart dropped into his socks as he observed the crowded scene in his front yard. He could already see an over turned shopping cart of cans with a body dressed in tattered dingy clothes lying about three feet from it. Immediately Trion knew that it was Porkchop. Walking closer, the body was visibly in bad shape; he was barely breathing as he fought for every heartbeat.

  Kneeling down next to the body, Trion knew that Porkchop wasn’t going to make it, his body had been almost shredded to pieces by an A.R.15.

  “Porkchop, what happened Dawg?”

  Struggling to breathe, the old man replied.

  “I tried to save her hamburga. They k… killed that boy down yonder, now they… came back for your momma and old Porkchop… I’m sorry hamburga …”

  As his body went limp, his voice was forever silenced. Porkchop had finally gone to be with his wife and daughter, somewhere beyond this world.

  Alarmed by the mention of his mother, Trion immediately got up and sprinted to the front door of their apartment. Seeing that it had been kicked in, he pulled his 40 cal and carefully entered the apartment. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw, so his knees almost buckled on sight, as his eyes began to release droplets of his burdens.

  Blood stains were everywhere as a testament to a physical struggle, and the end result was a half-naked badly beaten body lying in a puddle of blood. Trion had just found his mother with a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead, and her throat slit from ear to ear. The pain was paralyzing. Kneeling down next to his mother’s body, Trion bent down to close her eye lids and say goodbye, but the words wouldn’t come. He wanted to move, but his body wouldn’t cooperate, so he silently did what his mother had done for so many years of her life, he prayed. At the end of his prayer he made her one last promise,

  “God may forgive, but I won’t…”

  Trion was already a man in the streets, but now he was alone, and revenge was a must…

  CHAPTER 3

  THE PLOT

  As the pallbearers lowered Evon’s casket into the ground, Trion stood in silence immaculately dressed in black linin Armani, and a pair of black suede Ferragamos. Evon was one of the few jewels of the projects, a hardworking, loving mother, and dear friend to many. Today the cemetery was packed by those who had come to pay their last respects to a wonderful woman.

  After the casket had been lowered into its resting place, Trion sat in his black on black charger with the A.C. on, lost in thought. A knock on his passenger window broke his trance. Looking up, Trion saw his two closest soldiers and younger cousins, Carlos and Smoke. Carlos was the laid back pretty boy type, while on the other hand; Smoke was a shooter. Although they both had their own identity, they both loved and were only loyal to The Family, and were trained to go.

  Carlos tapped on the window again irritated.

  “Say dawg open this motherfucken door, it’s hot out here my nigga!”

  Gaining access, Carlos and Smoke got in and closed the door. Smoke was the first to speak,

  “what’s the business dawg? I know that you’re going through it and shit, but I’m ready to wet them pussy ass niggas for auntie.”

  Hearing Smoke speak the same thing that was on his mind, Carlos agreed;

  “yeah dawg what’s the move?”

  At only nineteen and twenty, Smoke and Los were both respected and feared in the streets of Tampa for a reason, and now they were ready to turn the heat up another notch.

  Slowly Trion lit a Black & Mild while deeply in thought remembering the words on this type of matter that his mentor had given him. Jago once told him,

  “Youth power is only an illusion; any mon can be overcome. Even a pawn can capture a king, all you need is patience and de right strategy …”

  Slipping out of his trance, Trion responded to his cousins’ inquiry,

  “emotions aint got no room in war dawg. When we push these pawns, every move has to count. Fuck just capturing the king, I want to crumble his whole court.”

  With that said, they were now on their way to the family house in Ponce de Leon to meet up with the rest of the family.

  Pulling up to the house, it looked like everybody from the surrounding projects had shown up to pay their respects to the family. Exhausted and hungry from the pressure that the day had brought, Carlos and Smoke went inside to raid their grandma’s pots. Trion on the other hand, reclined his seat and closed his eyes to clear his mind; not at all anxious to meet ghetto paparazzi standing in the front yard.

  Moments later, hearing a gentle knock on his driver’s side window, Trion opened his eyes to see a beautiful face that he hadn’t seen since he was a kid and his heart dropped. Casually checking himself so he wouldn’t seem thirsty, he opened his eyes lazily raising his eyebrows to show his surprise. Coolly stepping out of his car into the open arms and warm smile of his ride or die chick, Trion embraced Tasha.

  Tasha was a sexy Trina looking chick with the attitude to match, except when it came to Trion. She was a thick chocolate specimen that stood at about five foot five, and every inch of her demanded attention. As she squeezed him hard enough to drain the life out of him, Trion couldn’t help but to think back to when they were kids…

  Tasha and her junkie mother Cynthia lived next door to him when she was about eight. Trion was about two years older than her, but that didn’t stop her from having a crush on him. When her mother failed to come home and feed her, he made sure she ate, and made sure she didn’t want for anything. One day Defax came and took Tasha away. As it turned out, Cynthia had been trading Tasha’s young body for payments to get high, the thought alone still troubled Trion’s spirit.

  `Stepping back, all he could do was smile and shake his head. Tasha had turned out to be every bit as sexy as he thought she would be. Unable to hide her smile, Tasha beamed as he spoke.

  “Damn Tata, I see time has been good to you huh lil momma?”

  Appreciating the compliment, she gave him one of her own,

  “Boy you’re crazy. I see you haven’t done too bad yourself ...”

  After sharing a laugh, she noticed a cloud come over his eyes, and instantly she knew something was wrong.

  “What’s on your mind Trion? And don’t lie, because I see it all over your face.”

  Trion thought about lying anyway, but he knew that she wouldn’t let it go so he told the truth.

  “You know that Jamaican nigga Zion?”

  Tasha nodded

  “Yes.”

  “Well I know that nigga is the one that put the hit on my mom. She saw the dreads that killed that boy in the projects the other night. Tasha when I find that nigga, he gone die, and I’m gone dismember his whole team.”

  Understanding his pain, and the road that lies ahead, Tasha spoke slowly.

  “If you want to do this I can help. Sometimes I highlight at a strip club in St. Petersburg. I’ve seen him a few times in the V.I.P, he always gives me personal invitations and tips big when I get there. From what I’ve hea
rd, he has a big condo on the harbor. I can help you find it…”

  Knowing the danger, Trion started to decline the offer, but he could see in her eyes that it was a done deal,

  “okay here’s my number, call me tonight.”

  Hugging her one last time, Trion turned and walked into the house to greet the rest of the family. Painstakingly, he forced a smile onto his face, but in his heart he knew the storm that was cooking would bring a lot of casualties before it was over. Bodies were going to drop, but when the smoke cleared he would have his revenge…

  Meanwhile, standing in his plush half of a million-dollar condo, Zion gazed out of his picturesque living room window overlooking the harbor as he watched the sailboats go by. Snapping out of his trance, he turned just in time to see his six-year-old twin son and daughter Fya and Fahara running towards him.

  “Poppa, poppa, momma just pulled up outside”

  Fahara screamed in an excited tone. Opening the front door Tonya, Zion’s Cubin baby momma was attacked by the twins showering her with a million kisses.

  As Zion observed the exchange, he and Tonya locked eyes. He couldn’t help loving the beautiful Cuban model that had given birth to his children. But deep inside he knew that she deserved a better life than he had to offer her. Life was great from the outside looking in, but after all, everything had its price.

  After Tonya and the kids pulled off, Zion’s phone began to ring.

  “… YOSH…”

  As Tecko spoke into the phone, Zion listened.

  “Boss everyting has been taken care of in West Tampa. All de loose ends are tied up. Tonight we celebrate. I’ll pick you up at eleven, we’re going to Club Ecstasy.”

  After a short conversation, Zion hung up and laid back with a smile on his face. Over the last two years he had become the main distributer of cocaine for central Florida. At this point the money and the life was great, after all, who said crime don’t pay?

  Tossing and turning as he slept in his new loft in North Tampa, Trion was abruptly awakened by the sound of someone repeatedly pressing his door bell. Feeling grouchy, he finally broke free from his slumber;

  “man who the fuck is this?”

  Seeing that it was Tasha, Trion opened the front door, but all he could do was marvel at the sexy specimen that stood before him.…

  “Damn lil momma, you look good enough to eat,”

  he said flirting. Taking note of Trion’s shirtless, chiseled chest, she couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it. Smiling she flirted back,

  “well I hope you’re hungry …”

  Playfully snatching her off of her feet and closing the door behind them, he carried Tasha back to his bedroom and laid her down on his new bed before climbing in next to her. There was a moment of silent enchantment.

  “Listen Tata, this nigga Zion is dangerous ma, this aint a game. I don’t want you in the middle of this.”

  Looking up into Trion’s eyes as she lay on her back, all Tasha could think about was how long she had been secretly in love with him.

  As she lay under the warmth of his body, slowly she felt her body beginning to surrender to the throbbing wetness pulsating between her thighs. At this moment, she knew that there was no turning back. She had to have him in her life, and more specifically, right now she needed to have him inside of her body. Reaching up to grab the back of Trion’s neck, Tasha initiated the tumble of a snowball of ecstasy that would melt their souls to the core as they explored each other’s essence…

  As old friends became lovers, only God knew the tragedy and trials that were to come, but for now they had each other…

  Across town Carlos and Smoke prepared for their latest undertaking. Looking down at his watch, Smoke was frustrated.

  “Damn Dawg, what the fuck is taking this train so long?”

  The two of them had been laying in the bushes beside a secluded railroad track for over an hour, but the military cargo on board was worth it. Although the sun had just set for the evening, it was hot and humid; so being dressed in all black didn’t help Smokes frustration.

  “Man fuck this shit dawg. If this mothafucka aint here in the next ten minutes, I’m gone.”

  Just as the words left his mouth, as if on que, the train came around the bend at a slow crawl. As the train eased by, Carlos and Smoke seized their opportunity by jumping on board and making short work of the locks that secured the cargo. Gaining entry, they quickly began to unload as many crates of the firearms and ammunition as possible. Sensing the train about to pick up speed, they both jumped exiting the freight, and began to load the stolen cargo into a waiting van. Suddenly, a plain clothed security guard yelled out,

  “hey what are you guys doing?”

  Before he could reach for his walky-talky, Smoke opened fire, shooting something that looked like it came off Star Wars. As multiple high caliber shells exploded through the car that the guard had ducked behind, he silently began to pray that he made it through this ordeal alive. Just as fast as it had begun, it ended as Carlos and Smokes van disappeared into traffic.

  Pulling into the garage of their safe house in Rovers Park, Carlos and Smoke breathed a sigh of relief as they closed the garage door. Unloading their new treasure, they opened the crates and stared in aww. While Smoke felt his way around the weapons like a kid in a candy store, Carlos made a few calls, one was to a Cuban arms dealer he had been doing business with, and the other was to Trion.

  Hearing his phone ringing, Trion rolled over to answer it being careful not to wake up Tasha.

  “Yo, who is this?”

  He breathed into the phone…

  “What up dawg, dis Los. We just hit for some more toys to play with, we still going to the Burg to pay ole boy a visit tonight?”

  “Nah, we gone pull out tomorrow night when the sun falls, I’ll check out the fire then. Y’all niggas lay low until then.”

  “Bet dawg… one …”

  Hanging up the phone, Carlos turned to Smoke.

  “Say dawg lets separate this shit. We gotta drop these pieces off to Cuba, then get ready for tomorrow night.”

  Both cousins knew what lie ahead. When it was all said and done, no one was promised to still be breathing. The law of the streets called for a life for a life, so now equipped with enough weapons to go to war with Iraq, this was sure to get messy.

  Waking up the next morning, Carlos stepped outside to smoke a blunt and look out over the harbor; when he noticed Smoke standing up the block with another young shooter who went by the name Freeze. Word on the streets was that Smoke was fucking Freeze’s baby momma Kim, so his arrogance mixed with ignorance propelled him to pull up on Smoke and try to check him about her. Sadly, for Freeze this lapse of judgement would be his last.

  Pulling up on the block, Freeze had spotted Smoke, so he jumped out and confronted him.

  “What up jit? I heard you been fucking round with my olé lady?”

  Annoyed at the fact that he was even being approached about a female, Smoke replied with malice fueled by anger.

  “Look pussy nigga, fuck you. This my dick, I fuck who I want, when I want. You need to check your bitch.”

  Losing his last thread of self-control. Freeze went for the pistol in his waistband, however, Smoke was quicker to the draw. As the desert eagle in Smokes hand barked to life, chunks of flesh and blood disappeared from Freeze’s face; spraying through the air like some sort of twisted version of confetti. As Freeze’s body dropped, the potential witnesses and by standers cleared the block with urgency.

  The law of the street was see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. If you minded your own business, you lived, if you didn’t you died. It was just that simple. Gathering the supplies that they would need for their trip to the Burg, Carlos and Smoke decided to relocate to another spot just off main street in the heart of West Tampa until the heat died down; and it was time to pull out…

  CHAPTER 4

  CASULATIES OF WAR

  After Tasha got up, and left to get
back to St. Pete so she could get situated for her set at the show case, Trion rolled over and called Carlos…

  “What up dawg? You and Smoke ready for the meeting?”

  Hating to tell Trion about Smoke’s incident with Freeze, Carlos thought for a moment…

  “Yeah dawg, we on standby. We had a little issue in Rover’s Park, but nothing major. We at the spot off main street, we waiting on you.”

  Hearing the movement in the background, Trion knew that the trap was in full swing; So he ended the call before getting up and heading to West Tampa.

  Pulling up in the projects in his black on black Yukon, Trion let the tinted windows down allowing the humid summer air to blow through. Turning his head to look out of the window, he saw an old beat up yellow school bus pulling past him. Inside of the bus was a greasy looking old hustler named Big Man. His mobile store had everything a kid could want from ice cream to candy. He even had a few hood favorites like: boiled peanuts, cigars, and single Newport’s

  Big Man looked over at the black truck, and smiled seeing that it was Trion.

  “Hey there young blood. Boy I aint seen you since you were a jitter bug. What you been up to?”

  Amused by the old hustler, Trion smiled;

  “I’ve been taking it easy old timer. I see that old bus is still doing numbers huh?”

  Remembering his years in the game, Big Man flashed back to when he ruled the streets of West Tampa with an iron fist. As the memories began to fade, they left traces of a bad taste in his mouth. Big Mans brother had been murdered by federal agents as they raided his home, consequently, Big Man was hauled off to serve a 240-month sentence for racketeering and money laundering. Slipping out of his trip down memory lane, Big Man answered Trion’s question with a pained expression.

  “Yeah young blood, these crackers aint playing fair out here in these streets. This old truck is keeping the bills paid, and my old black ass out of the chain gang…”