“This was a nice surprise,” Netta admitted.
“I thought you’d like it,” Tone replied. “Now put that away, you scarin’ me wit’ that gun.”
Netta cut her eyes playfully in his direction. “Stop playin’ yo. I would never hurt you.”
“I know, I’m just jokin’,” he told her. “I’ma leave you here to straighten up the place. I gotta go handle some business. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Okay. Tone, be safe out there,” Netta told him. “Love you.”
“I will,” he assured her as he exited the house.
For the next few hours Netta busied herself around the house cleaning, unpacking and settling in, trying not to think, trying to keep her mind off what was really bothering her. In this case, it was Black. She had a bad feeling that things between them were going to come to a head very soon. She didn’t know how or when. Still, it’s what she believed.
While Tone was in the streets taking care of business, Netta’s thoughts were on him the whole time. Her most pressing thought was when would he be back? She didn’t like being home alone. She felt more comfortable with him there. Every little sound that the home or the surrounding apartment made put Netta on edge.
Netta was afraid to be alone in the house, gun or no gun. The hours that Tone spent hustling drugs in the streets felt like a punishment of some kind. Although she never expressed the fact that she was afraid of being alone in the apartment, Netta was very afraid. Afraid that Black would return and finish the job. Whether that thought was just plain paranoia or not, it took hold of her psyche just the same. Her thoughts were that of a person who was terrified of being killed or physically hurt again.
She couldn’t just go on with her life in Baltimore like she hadn’t been damaged by what Black had done to her. As if her life hadn’t been altered by the vicious beating he had administered. Netta knew better, only time and distance would cure what ills.
As night fell, Tone put his plan to kill Black in motion. He never told Netta of his intentions, this involved only he and his cousin Mann, acting as the get-away driver. Baltimore City was small, if one didn’t know where a particular drug dealer sold drugs, it wasn’t hard to find out. As soon as word of Black’s new shop reached Tone’s ears, he reacted swiftly.
Tone promised himself the next time he got into an altercation with anyone in Baltimore, he would be the aggressor.
Tone believed if Netta was to have a prayer of surviving Black, of living her life without fear, without constantly looking over her shoulder, he needed to end things now. He had made up his mind on the cruise that when he got back to Baltimore, he was going to launch a surprise attack on Black. This was a risky strategy for Tone. He was counting on the element of surprise to help him emerge victorious.
If he hurts her, he hurts me. And I can’t let that happen, Tone thought. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect my girl?
Tone had kept his intentions secret from everyone. Whatever information he shared was on a need to know basis. Netta wasn’t involved so she didn’t need to know. Tone was doing this on her behalf, so with that in mind, he would rather beg her for forgiveness than ask her for permission. He would endure all the rain just so Netta could bask in the sunshine. If that meant risking his life or his liberty to protect her, then so be it. One of Tone’s greatest pleasures in life was protecting the people that he loved. As long as he was around, Tone swore no harm would come to Netta.
Tone slid into the passenger seat of the car with a no nonsense look on his face. The look said he was one hundred percent serious about what he was going to do. For him there was no more worrying about getting caught up in a beef that wasn’t his. Or doing something he had no business doing. He was all in, the Uzi submachine gun sitting in his lap said as much to his murderous agenda.
“Take me to where this nigga be at,” he instructed his cousin Mann.
Mann nodded and proceeded to drive. Meanwhile, Tone shifted his attention to the task at hand. There was nothing left to talk about. Because of Netta, their paths were destined to cross.
Cautiously, Mann drove to 21st and Barclay Avenue. Slowly they crept up the block, on a search and destroy mission. This block was a crucial location to Black’s sprawling dope empire that he hoped to build. They had heard that he was out there on a daily basis, running the show. Mann had taken a few test runs through the area so he knew exactly what he looked like. He was just waiting for Black to show his face to point him out to Tone. Then he would handle the rest.
Once upon a time ago, one wouldn’t catch Black dead on the block. He had an army of workers to insulate him from the police and from the streets. But that was then, and this was now. With his release from prison, he was starting his dope operation from the ground up. He was looking to regain that lofty status again, as the gatekeeper of the heroin trade in East Baltimore. However, he knew that he had to take a hands-on approach. Black had to be out on the block with his team.
With Black’s level of success came a certain amount of confidence, a certain amount of arrogance, a way of thinking that made him feel untouchable. He didn’t count on anyone trying to derail his plans.
Black stood amongst
