The Ultimate Git Back: A Gangster Love Story

By Arthur Barron

A story of love, betrayal, and deceit, that will have you guessing until the last page

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365813108

Book preview

The Ultimate Git Back: A Gangster Love Story

The Ultimate Git Back

A Gangster Love Story

By Arthur Barron

Copyright © 2017 Arthur Barron

Cover design by Lulu publishing

Book design by Lulu Publishing

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing: 05/2017

Personal Galley Proof: Not for resale

Printed in the United States of America

The Ultimate Git Back

A Gangster Love Story

Chapter 1

Mike was sitting in Central Booking at the Mahoning County jail, disgusted with himself.  How could this nigga have survived all six shots, from his 357?  Now the nigga was in the hospital telling the police everything.  Everything except for the fact that earlier that week, he had robbed Mike for five pounds of cocaine and ten-thousand dollars.  Now Reggie was doin’ what was not condoned in the streets.  He was taking beef to the police when shit got too hot for him in the game.  Reggie was still in critical condition.  He’d been unconscious for some time now, but only after he gave the police all the information they needed to make an arrest on Mike, which came as a surprise, believing that Reggie was dead.  It had been a perfect hit.  Mike followed Reggie’s movements for all of three days, planning the perfect time to make his strike.  During those three days, it seemed as if it was impossible to touch him, being Reggie always stayed alert.  Not only that, Reggie always had beef, carrying himself in such a fashion.  He always watched his back and moved in an irregular pattern.

There was one thing he did the same every day.  He would stop by his mother’s house about the same time every day.  That was where he decided to make his strike.  Mike would wait for Reggie to leave the house.  That’s when he would unleash the ultimate git back.

This night, Mike, parked his car several houses up the street from Reggie’s mother’s house.  He cut off the engine, lit a blunt and waited, patiently, with Mary J. Blige playing softly in the background.  He contemplated how to execute his plan, successfully.  Several minutes passed, just like clockwork, Reggie pulled into his mother’s driveway, got out of his car and walked swiftly to the front door and entered the house.  He usually stayed inside for at least ten to twenty minutes, giving Mike enough time to finish smoking the rest of the blunt.  Once finished, he exited the car on the passenger’s side and walked slowly, unnoticed, hugging the shadows towards Reggie’s mother’s house.

Once Mike made it to the front of the house, he moved with incredible speed, and stealthy grace, which contradicted his slow, walking swagger, to the side of the house opposite the driveway.  He crouched low between some bushes, as he waited, for his target.

To Mike, it seemed as if time moved at a snail’s pace, but, it was the opposite.  Just as Mike’s patience began to falter, he visualized kicking in the door, and killing everybody in the house.  He then heard the front door open, voices on the porch, and footsteps hitting the pavement, which was Reggie making his way to the car.  At that precise moment, Mike came from the side of the house, with the speed of a track star, gun aimed.  He possessed the discipline of an assassin, waiting to fire until he was close as possible to his victim.

As Mike approached, Reggie sensed more than he heard; the impending danger headed his way.  He turned around, unprepared for what was about to happen, being that his hands were full of plates of food that his mother had cooked for him.  With eyes widened, he dropped the plates and reached for his pistol that he had tucked in his waist.  Reggie had just wrapped his hand around the butt of his gun, when the first two shots tore into his chest, spinning him around.  The final four shells lodged into his back, as he tried to run, sending him falling to the pavement where he laid twitching, and gasping for air.  Mike briefly stared at Reggie’s bullet riddled body, spitting on him as he cursed viciously under his breath.  With that done, he turned and ran towards his car, started the engine, and raced down the street in the opposite direction, never seeing Reggie’s mother run out of the house screaming loudly, as she rushed to Reggie’s side.  This was a plan executed perfectly, which ended incomplete, because Reggie lived, which left Mike sitting in a cell, waiting to be charged with attempted murder.

Chapter 2

Mike lay back on the concrete slab, which constituted as a bed, closed his eyes, and contemplated his thoughts.  His concentration was broken by the keys being inserted into the lock of his cell door.  He jumped up thinking he was about to be processed and sent upstairs, to population.  He had already been waiting for several hours now.  The C.O. stepped inside, looking at Mike with a sneer.  What’s up low life, brought you some company, he said, shoving a man into the cell, and slamming the door.  Once the C.O. was gone, the man gave the cell a once-over; his eyes settling on Mike, not recognizing him, he gave a nod and sat heavily on the bench opposite of Mike.  Mike gave the man a quick look-over.  He was about 5’7, dark-skinned, and medium built.  He was wearing a black Coogi sweat suit, which was wet and covered with mud, as if the police had to chase him in the process, giving a Y.P.D. beat-down," for the extra work they had to do, which wasn’t uncommon dealing with the police.  Not knowing the man, Mike again shut his eyes and continued to wrap himself with his own problems.

Mike seemed to have dozed off when he was suddenly awakened, by banging.  When his eyes opened and focused, he realized the banging was coming from the recent occupant of his cell.  The man was trying to get the attention of the C.O., while yelling as to how he had been waiting in the cell for so long.  Mike being a regular to this process, knew that this man must have not been one to visit the County jail.  Everyone knew the booking process was an all day, sometimes all-night process.

Mike became aggravated by the man’s banging.  Hey homie, these pigs don’t give a fuck about you or me.  We’ll be lucky to get out of here before the morning.  The more you bang, the longer we wait.  Don’t give them the satisfaction of letting them know that this shit is getting to you, he stated calmly.  I feel you, my nigga, the man responded.  With that said, the man sat down, looking at Mike for a minute, as if studying him, sensing Mike was cool.  The name’s Glenn, he said.  I’m Mike, Mike responded, sitting up, and sensing the man wanted to talk.  Man, those pigs are a mothafucka! Glen shouted, I’m just driving along when they get behind me, pull me over, snatching me out my car, saying I killed this nigga.  When they told me that shit, I snatch away from the pig, while he was trying to handcuff me.  I wasn’t going down for no shit I didn’t do.  I feel you, Mike responded.  Anyway, Glen continued, I’m running, they behind me and shit, I’m leaving them though.  They are screaming, stop, stop! I’m not trying to hear that.  I cut between these two houses, through the back yard. I’m about to come up out on the next street when, Wham!  Out of nowhere this pig flatlines me.  I try to get up, but before I know it, it’s like five or six of them beating my ass.  Next thing I know I’m in the back of a police car, beat the fuck up, charged with murder, now I’m here, he said, as the realization of what he was facing, set in, causing him to slump his shoulders.

Damn!  That’s fucked up. What made them think you killed somebody, Mike asked, sitting up, now interested.  Because they say someone seen my car leave the scene of the crime.  So, what you down here for, Glen said, changing the subject.  They got me down here on an attempted murder charge.  Shit just didn’t go as planned. Can’t wait till tomorrow so I can see what this judge gonna set my bond at, so I can get the fuck out of here. I’m wit you on that one, my nigga," Glenn responded.  With that discussed, each man fell silent, over-whelmed with the situation that each faced, wondering if they would ever see the streets anytime soon.

Chapter 3

Tired of the silence and the wait, Mike finally broke the silence.  Hey Glenn.  What’s up, Glenn responded.  Where you from?  I haven’t seen you around.  I’m from Detroit, originally, but I moved down here a couple of years ago.  I stay on the East Side in those new houses.  They built over by McKelvey Lake.  You hip to where I’m talking about?  Yeah, I know where that’s at, I got peoples on the East.  Me? I’m from the South, though.  Mike looked him up and down, then said, From the way you dressed, outside of the mud, it looks like you are playing wit some money out there.  Glenn hesitated, not sure how to answer, finally he said, I do ok, I eat but I wouldn’t consider myself rich. You know what I’m sayin?  Yeah, I can dig that. I eat a little myself, but if neither one of us don’t get the fuck out of here, all we gonna be eating is soups and summer sausage, Mike joked.  At that statement, both men laughed, under the circumstances, felt good.  It helped ease the pressure and lower the stress even if it was for a moment.

In the midst of laughter, the door opened, a C.O. came in and seeing the smiles on both men face, said, I see you low lives are enjoying yourself, seeing that you two probably will never get out for at least 20 years.  Fuck you! Mike snapped.  We’ll see how you act when you get upstairs wit all of Reggie’s homies, the C.O. said, with a devious smile.  I fear no man muthafucker, Mike said, and stood and faced the C.O.  Sensing danger, the C.O. backed away, putting up his hands, in surrender.  I don’t want no problem.  I just want to get my eight hours, and go home, he said.  Well watch what the fuck you say out your mouth pig, Mike said.  Calm down, Billy the kid, a female C.O. said.  Come out here so I can get you processed.  Tell your friend to come also, so I can get both of you takin care of before shift change."

To get processed, fingerprinted, and dressed in customary orange uniforms took all about thirty minutes.  The reason they made you sit in booking so long was beyond reasoning.  Now Mike and Glenn were being led down a long hallway towards the elevators where they would be taken upstairs to where they would live till they either made bail or until they went to trial, which ever came first.  Once upstairs, they were led to a block which housed thirty-six inmates, dressed just like them.  All incarcerated for crimes ranging from rape, robbery, or murder, and other crimes, in between.  Inside they went to the C.O.’s desk, and got the number to the cell they were assigned.  Mike was assigned to 31, while Glenn was assigned to 30.

It looks like we gonna be neighbors, Glenn said with a smirk, as they walked up the stairs to their assigned cells.  Glenn noticed how the other inmates were looking in their direction.  It made him feel uneasy, but he brushed it off, as them being new to the block.  Glenn entered his cell, and looked around.  It was clean.  Everything was metal, from the sink, the toilet, the desk on the little shelf where he was to put his personal hygiene products, and other various supplies.  He looked over at the metal slab with a thin