Down With the P (Chapter I)

I – THE CALL

“Rolling out is what we are doing, yo,” Peja said as he looked around at his crew. Shorty wasn’t sure what to make of The P tonight. He looked more laid back than normal, and they were headed down to their spot, so everything should be business as usual.

“What is it that you are being thinking about, Shorty?” Shorty cringed. The P was always all up in his s–t. Shorty was trying to look like everything was okay, but he must have been trying too hard. “Your pockets must be revealed.” Peja always had this thing – he liked to know what was in people’s pockets. When he asked, you showed him. Shorty didn’t have much: his Sidekick, some smokes, maybe $500, and his piece. (Peja liked everyone to carry.)

“You are or are not loaded?” Shorty shook his head no. “There is a speech we shared about this?” Shorty could only shrug – this was the third time he’d crossed Peja this month, and it wasn’t gonna be pretty. Peja took a step toward him, cracking his knuckles in that way he does – sexy, but dangerous. Shorty braced himself.

“YO, P!” It was Murph – P’s number one. “You better take this, dawg.” Peja gave Shorty a light slap across the head that let him know he’d be pounding him into a coma later on in the evening. Murph tossed the celly over.

Peja caught the phone in one swoop of his massively strong hands, then smoothly placed it next to his ear. “Speak to Peja now,” and he listened. The look on his face let Shorty know that nothing with the crew would ever be the same again.

“Now is the time that we will be right there.” And he hung up.

NEXT: THE MEETING