Free Justify My Thug by Wahida Clark Page B

together, that in reality we have damn near been fucking up more than cleaning up.
    I had to do something. But what? Where would I start tolook? Then it hit me. There was one lawyer out west who owed me favors. Favors as in more than one. It was time for me to cash in on them.
TRAE
    It took me three days to finally catch Lo like I wanted to. The way I was moving I felt like a certified bounty hunter. I found out that he had a house on LaBrea Avenue in the Jungle section of LA that was a Blood stronghold. Breaking into the house, I discovered that he lived with his woman. Climbing the stairs quickly and quietly, I found her asleep in a bed in one of the bedrooms. Since I was tired from chasing this nigga for the past three days, and the fact that I didn’t feel like the whole screaming, tying her up, and crying bullshit, I smothered her until she went limp. I then checked her pulse. She was gone. I went downstairs, grabbed a seat and then waited patiently for Lo.
    There is nothing like the element of surprise. About an hour and a half later, he came strolling into the house and I caught his ass totally off guard. He tried to put up a fight because I was sure that he was using them hard drugs just like Marv. I was able to subdue him quickly, knocking him the fuck out. I then dragged his unconscious form to the back of the house. I found some table linen in a closet in the hallway. Using a kitchen knife, I shredded the table cloth and used it to tie him up and with the remaining pieces I gagged him. Once he was in the helpless position that I wanted him in, I grabbed a chair and sat so that I was facing him. I poured a big cup of cold water, and threw it in his face and smacked him. His eyes opened and settled right on me.
    â€œIt’s me again, son. Remember the other day when we talked?I didn’t feel that you were keepin’ it 100 with me. You were giving me bits and pieces and not the whole shit.” I pulled my .45 out of my waist and pressed it up against his temple. “I think we need to talk again. But this time, I’m gonna need you to fill in the blanks. You think you can do that for me? If so, nod your head.”
    When Lo didn’t nod his head, I smiled. “So you think I’m bullshittin’ huh? I can respect that.” I left him on the floor and stood up to look for the kitchen knife. It was right there on the table where I had left it. I took the knife and stabbed him in the shoulder. I stuck the blade as far as it would go, twisting it before I yanked it out. For several minutes I watched the dripping blood. His muffled scream didn’t faze me at all. I stood and walked over to the cabinet on the wall. Opening a couple of drawers, I found exactly what I was looking for. I grabbed the Morton’s salt box and went back to my victim. Adjusting the spout so that most of the salt poured out, I began dumping it into the gaping shoulder wound. He began to yelp like a dog does when you step on his tail.
    He started screaming again as I took my finger and gathered the salt around the wound. I then took my finger and the salt and stuffed it inside the wound. He screamed out again, but the gag was doing its job of muffling the sounds.
    Satisfied with the result I was getting, I said, “Shhhhhh! Gangstas don’t scream, Lo. That’s what you are, right? A ‘G’. And you’re trying to prove to me how gangsta you are, right? Well, I don’t believe you, son. I think another couple of pokes with this knife will break that gangsta shit down.”
    I pulled him over until he was on his back with his hands under him. I stabbed him in his other shoulder and repeated mysalt routine with that wound. The nigga had the nerve to pass out. I got up to get more water and splashed him again.
    â€œWake up, you muthafuckin’ gangsta. What the fuck are you doing? You giving real gangstas a bad look, fainting and shit. I need you to stay with me now. If you tell me what I