Page 66 of He Thugged Me First

“Miles said that was the problem with you niggas, y’all talk too fucking much.” A deep voice said.

“But I don’t.” I heard Quari say before the sound of a gun going off and a wet substance hit the back of my neck.

“Man what the fuck?” I yelled out pulling back and looking at the dead body on the ground. When I looked up Quari was unscrewing the silencer from his gun.

“You might wanna clean ya neck, old boy’s brains went in ya collar.”

I didn’t even have shit to say. I couldn’t understand how a motherfucker was undetected in this bitch. Had I not walked in here, Mazz’s ass would’ve been dead.

“You see this?” I pointed at the motherfucker on the ground while Quari pulled his mask from his head. “This is why you can’t be off ya fucking square. Had this nigga not been here, we would’ve been maggot food. Who was explaining this shit to ya sister. Mazz had this blank expression in his face, one that let me know he was hearing all that I was saying.

“Yo, get some pictures of this nigga so I can dispose of it .” Quari demanded as he started to walk out toward the door.

I looked from Mazz to the dead body on the ground before I shook my head. I walked around the bar to grab a towel or something because I felt like I had blood and all that shit in the back of my head.

Moments later, Quari walked into the space with a duffle bag and a plastic. He looked like he was in his brain, while my ass wanted to know what the fuck he was about to do with all of that.

It took me a minute but I finally got the blood and shit off of me, and now I was watching Quari. This nutty motherfucker had laid plastic and all of that before he rolled old boy onto it with ease.

“Yo, I got a question.” I raised my fucking hand while watching him fold this nigga up in the plastic like he didn’t have limbs.

Quari looked back at me , before back at the task at hand. “What Kasair?” He was focused.

How the fuck you do that?” I was sitting here fucking speechless. He had injected the nigga’s body with something in about three silver syringes and let him sit. He had literally let the man baste like a turkey before he started to break shit and fold him like a packing chair.

He never responded, instead he strategically continued to fold this motherfucker up. When he was finally done, he was able to fit him into the duffle bag, and that’s exactly what he did. I mean I knew my boy handled shit like this and made people disappear, but I didn’t know-know. I didn’t know how he went about the shit and now it made me sick to my fucking stomach. Pulling the trigger was different from this strategically thought out shit.

“You good over there?” Mazzier asked walking up behind the bar.

“Hell nah, I just watched him wrap this nigga up like a foldable, you…” My sentence trailed off when I watched him zip up the duffel and look my way. He was too damn calm with this shit.

“Niggas get folded every day, B” Quari exhaled and walked over taking a seat at the bar next to me.

“In ya fucking life probably, but not in mine. I ain’t never seen no shit like this. I just knew ya ass was psychotic, one of them niggas staging suicides and shit.”

He shrugged. “For the right price, it can be arranged. Mazz, gimme me that Jameson.”

I shook my head at the thought. “How much something like what you just did run you for?” Yep, I was the typical nigga, asking about money.

Again he shrugged his shoulders. “Depends on the situation, but anywhere from fifty to seventy-five.”

I screwed my face up and looked at him. “Dollars?”

“Nah nigga, thousand.” He finished before a laugh escaped his lips.

I looked from Mazzier to him, before my eyes bulged from my skull. “I think we joined the wrong fucking business. I mean I got a weak stomach and all, but I’ll get some shit done!”

MAZZIER

With a foggy but clear mind I sat in my office hours later watching the tapes and trying to figure out who the nigga from earlier was connected to. I had called in a few favors after sending his picture off to Johnson. Somebody was gonna tell me who the fuck Miles was and what the hell was going on. I watched the tapes for all of two hours and I couldn’t find shit, something didn’t add up and I couldn’t figure it out. There was no footage of this motherfucker entering the club from today, which meant he had to have been here, but where?

“What if somebody tampered with the tapes. Who else has the codes and necessary passwords?” Quari asked.

“I mean Liz, but I vetted shorty and ran hella backgrounds on her.”

“Nigga bye, lemme take a look. What’s her full name?” Kasair asked.

I reached into the file cabinet and pulled out the employee files. When I got to her name, I spotted her last name. “Cropwell.”

---