The Dirty Divorce Read Free Page B

mother’s house, I had to get some doe. A good amount of my money was stashed in the bottom of the shed since I really didn’t trust banks like that. Even though my mother was nosey, she never went into the shed, so it was the perfect spot. I raced through the snow in the backyard to hurry since time was not on my side. Unlockin’ the padlock, I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watchin’. Not only was my mother nosey, but her neighbors were even worse. More importantly, I wanted to make sure the muthafuckas who were tryin’ to ruin my life weren’t tryin’ to creep up on me either.
    After walkin’ inside and closing the door behind me, I quickly began removin’ all the bags of soil that I’d placed over a huge wood board. Once the board was removed, I stared at the deep hole that had been covered in dirt. Grabbin’ the shovel, I began diggin’ as fast as I could to get to the suitcase that contained my cash. However, the more dirt I removed, the angrier I got.
    “I’ma kill these muthafuckas,” I said to myself. Even though my wife was worth it, I was ready for war at the thought of me havin’ to fuck wit’ my stash.
    When I finally reached the suitcase, I quickly pulled it from the hole and placed it on my lap. Knowin’ I had to act fast, I opened the plastic bag the money was in, then began to count out several stacks. I kept my money in bundles, ten thousand in each. When I reached fifty, I placed the money in one of mother’s old gardenin’ bags, and put the rest back. Once everything was back in it’s proper place, I quickly placed the padlock back on the door, ran through the yard and jumped in my truck. The way I pulled off down the street, you would’ve thought I was a driver for Nascar.
    After drivin’ for a few minutes, I picked up my phone, realizin’ that I’d left it in the car. I had five missed calls from a private number.
    “Shit,” I said, then banged my fist against the steerin’ wheel. I didn’t want those niggas to do somethin’ stupid.
    Before I could think any further, my phone rang again. It was from a blocked number again, so I knew exactly who it was this time. “Hello.”
    “You better start answering yo’ phone nigga, if you want this shit to work out. You got fifteen minutes or this bitch is dead. When you pull up, blow the horn twice. Oh, and come unarmed.” CLICK
    I hated when muthafuckas gave me orders. No one gave me orders, but I had to bow down ‘til I found out who was responsible for this. They were definitely goin’ to pay though. If I had to kill their whole family so be it. I already had it in my mind that I wasn’t goin’ to show any mercy.
    Doin’ as I was told, I drove through D.C. at top speed, hopin’ not to get pulled over. Lookin’ at the clock on my radio every few minutes, I ran every red light I could ‘til I finally made it to Ritchie Road. There was so much goin’ on I didn’t even have time to call my cousin, Carlos, who was my right hand man. At a time like this, I wish he didn’t live on the West Coast.
    Wit’ only two minutes to spare, I pulled up in front of the abandoned warehouse and tapped the horn two times. Moments later, a door on the side of the buildin’ opened, and an arm appeared, gesturin’ me to come inside. After placin’ my gun back under the seat, I hopped out of my truck to find three masked men all pointin’ their heat at me as soon as I walked inside. Wit’ both of my hands in the air, one of them patted me down and checked every single pocket in my coat. He then handcuffed me to a pole, and snatched the gardenin’ bag out of my hand.
    “Richie!” a deep voice rang out from behind a door. “I’m so glad you could make it. Now, punish that nigga!” he yelled.
    The tallest of the three dudes immediately came over to me and did exactly what his boss ordered. I didn’t even have a chance to look for Lisa before the muthafucka shot me. The hot metal burned through my skin and instantly