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    Big Tobe: Retribution: Project Queen, #3
    Big Tobe: Retribution: Project Queen, #3
    Big Tobe: Retribution: Project Queen, #3
    Ebook160 pages2 hours

    Big Tobe: Retribution: Project Queen, #3

    By Teresa D. Patterson

    3/5

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    About this ebook

    Toby Shaquil Byrts has left the drug game behind him. Now a successful business owner of Top2Bottom Detailing, he has no plans to delve back into his old lifestyle. But sometimes demons from the past can come back to haunt us. Even though our desire may be to run and hide, the best course of action is to face them head-on and deal with them. A person harboring a deep grudge has evil intentions and vows to make Toby pay for ruining his life. Toby can watch everything he s worked so hard for be destroyed, or he can revert back to Big Tobe and gain it all back. But, along with Big Tobe comes retribution.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTeresa D. Patterson
    Release dateMay 31, 2013
    ISBN9781301488537
    Big Tobe: Retribution: Project Queen, #3
    Author

    Teresa D. Patterson

    Teresa D. Patterson came onto the literary scene with her debut novel, Project Queen, which was published by a small independent publishing company. It wasn't long before she realized having complete control over the creation and distribution of her books suited her better, compelling her to publish her own future works. Her first independent published novel was Ex-boyfriend. She went on to write several novels in multiple genres, which includes contemporary fiction, erotica, inspirational fiction, juvenile fiction, romance, and urban lit. She has written twenty-eight novels and co-authored one.

    Read more from Teresa D. Patterson

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    • 5/5
      This was a good book. It held my interest from the beginning to the end.

    Book preview

    Big Tobe - Teresa D. Patterson

    Prologue

    Man, that sounds like a plan. I’m tired of the PoPo watching my ass. This shit is getting old. I know I got to get used to gettin’ my hands dirty. He paused then said, I’m in, dawg. I’ll come up there, sit down with you to discuss the pros and cons and all the legal aspects.

    John and Toby talked for a few minutes more then he hung up. He had to get moving or he’d be late picking Lekecia up from work. Her car was in the shop getting the brakes repaired.

    Damn, it’s like Fort Knox in this bitch, John said as he unlocked and unchained all of the locks and chains on his front door. It’s the precautions he had to take being so deep in the drug game. He wanted to ensure that LeKecia and John Jr. were safe until they moved out the hood.

    Shit, he swore. I forgot my piece. No way would he step out into the world unstrapped. It would be foolish. Too many wanna-be gangsters wanted him dead. On the other end, thugs plotted on ways to rob him. He’d always carried a Glock 9mm since the tender age of fourteen, when he’d began dealing. He headed back to the bedroom to retrieve the weapon he’d left on the bureau when he took a shower. He grabbed it, tucking it into the back waistline of his pants.

    As he left the bedroom, thoughts of leaving the drug game brought a smile to his face. He’ll finally be free of all the bullshit. No more stressing about the police raiding his house or pulling him over and hauling him off to jail. He could stop being paranoid about niggas robbing him on the streets. He’d be able to breathe easy because his baby mama and son would be safe. LeKecia could stop worrying about him leaving her behind to be a single-mother.

    Secretly, he’d been a little envious of Toby even though that was his best friend. Toby had done what he’d set out to do. He’d kept his word about leaving the fast life and living legit. Instead of running things in the streets, Toby now ran a very productive business. John was proud of him, but he could admit he wanted a similar lifestyle.

    Now, Toby was giving him that opportunity.

    That’s my dawg, he thought. Always lookin’ out for a nigga.

    When he stepped into the living room, he sensed the danger before he saw the three masked men standing there. In an instant, he was staring down the barrel of an AK -47.

    Yeah nigga. Ya ass got caught slippin’, one of the men snarled. Lay down, nigga.

    Momentarily stunned, John just stood there in shock. His worst fears had manifested into real life. Being robbed and killed in his own home wasn’t the way he pictured himself going out. He wasn’t a fool though. He wanted to see his son again, and if getting down on the floor and letting them take everything he owned ensured that, he’d do it.

    Take whatever y’all came here for, he said as he sank to his knees. I’m cooperating.

    You ain’t got no choice, nigga, another dude said. He kicked John in the face with his Timberland boots. Now, shut the fuck up and lay yo’ ass down.

    John complied. The third dude came over and began tying his hands behind his back with a rope. It’s just business, he rasped next to John’s ear. Don’t take it personal. He pulled the rope tight around John’s wrists causing him to wince in pain. They rope was tighter than the handcuffs the police clamped on him the last time he got arrested. Oh, I’m gonna have to take this, partner. John felt him pull the gun from his waistline.

    Alright, niggas, turn this mothafucka up, down, inside out and take everything that’s worth something, the apparent leader of the crew instructed.

    John wasn’t concerned about the material things. He just prayed he’d make it out of the situation alive. He didn’t even attempt to free himself from the rope. He wasn’t trying to play hero and get shot. They could take it all; just let him live to see another day.

    He heard the men rumbling around in his house, turning stuff over, pulling out drawers, looking for his valuables. All he could think of was the 23rd Psalm. He began to recite it silently.

    The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

    He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

    He leadeth me beside the still waters.

    He restoreth my soul:

    He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

    The man that had kicked John in the head returned and saw him with his eyes closed. Nigga, I know you not in here prayin’ and cryin’ like a lil bitch. He laughed. You supposed to be a hard ass thug. You in here cryin’ and shit. He laughed again. I’ll give you something to cry about. You may wanna close ya eyes so you don’t see it comin’. It might hurt.

    John could see pure evil in the man’s eyes as he aimed and fired. He felt a searing, hot pain as the bullet tore into his flesh.

    Nigga, what the fuck you doin’? The other two men rushed back into the living room when they heard the gunshot. Yo ass wasn’t supposed to kill him. That wasn’t the instructions.  You done fucked up. We wasn’t supposed to kill no motherfuckin’ body! he screamed, stomping his foot in anger with every word.

    He ain’t dead, the other man said. He’s still breathin’ What we gon’ do? Should we call 911?"

    Hell nah. Look, get the fuck outta here. I’ll take care of this, the leader said. He stood there holding the sides of his head looking at the bleeding man on the floor in front of them.

    What you gon’ do?

    None of yo’ fuckin’ business. Just get the fuck out and let me handle this, he shouted, agitated.

    Once the other two had jetted, the last man looked around. He spotted John’s cell phone next to his keys on the coffee table. He hurried over and grabbed it.

    Man, this wasn’t supposed to go down like this. You wasn’t supposed to get shot. As he spoke, he placed the cell phone in John’s right hand. It’s up to you whether you live or die now.

    ***

    I know John ain’t done forgot to pick my ass up, LeKecia complained. It was a quarter after five. John knew she got off work at five o’clock, and she always clocked out at five sharp. She refused to give the state a minute of her time free.

    She was tired, cranky and ready to eat. John had promised to take her to Red Lobster because she was craving seafood. This is not like him. She began to get worried. John wasn’t the type to be late. Something had to be wrong. She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and dialed his number. It just continued to ring until his voicemail picked up. Disappointed, she hung up.

    She rubbed her stomach which had begun to cramp. She was twenty eight weeks pregnant with twins. The last thing she needed was stress.

    Something is wrong, she said aloud. I can feel it in my soul.

    ***

    The house had grown silent. The men who’d come to rob him were gone. John could hear his cell phone ringing. Through the haze in his mind, he could see it was LeKecia calling him. He tried to answer, but his fingers couldn’t seem to work. Somehow, he managed to hit redial.

    What’s up, J-Roc? You on ya way up here? he heard Toby answer. John? Hello? John, are you there?

    Toby, he breathed into the phone. Man...them niggas got me...I’m shot...I think I’m...dyin’. He started to cough and turned his head to the side and spit out a mouth full of blood.

    What? What the fuck? John. Answer me. John. I’m on my way. Don’t you fuckin’ die, man! Toby screamed. I’m on the way.

    Chapter One

    Toby finished tallying the cash register and leaned back in the plush leather reclining office chair. He sighed aloud.

    I really need to hire a secretary. This numbers shit is for some square ass nigga, he said aloud.

    Even though he complained, he’d learned every aspect of running a business including balancing his cash drawer. He didn’t want any mishaps. He prided himself in running a tight, professional, legit business. There was no mixing of business funds with his personal cash. Every night the starting cash on-hand was put back into the cash drawer and stored for the evening, while the deposit was prepared for the bank. This was routine.

    He was getting ready to retrieve the deposit from the safe when he heard a loud thump outside.

    What the fuck?

    Just because he was no longer in the drug game, didn’t mean he didn’t keep a loaded Glock on hand in case of emergencies, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

    He searched the security cameras that surveyed the perimeter of his building. He couldn’t see anything, but he sensed that someone was out there.

    He wasn’t too concerned with being robbed. He made sure not to keep a great deal of cash at the office. Top2Bottom Detailing had thrived during the first two years it opened. Toby had defied the odds and managed to run an extremely successful business from day one. He did everything by the book, including making those cash deposits frequently during the day. So, if he got hit, they’d get less than $500, if that.

    Needless to say, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting robbed though, regardless of the amount of cash he carried. Even if it was one red cent, it was his money, and he didn’t take too kindly to anyone taking what belonged to him.

    If some niggas waited outside to rob him, they’d better be prepared to receive some hot lead in their asses. He was still ‘Big Tobe,’ in case they’d forgotten.

    Toby secured the building and set the alarm before heading out. He had the gun tucked in his waistline, hidden under his shirt. Since he’d parked right out front, he didn’t have too far to walk to his vehicle.

    He’d traded in the Cadillac Escalade for a Mercedes G550 SUV. He’d had to step his game up and show everyone that he didn’t just talk about it, he made it happen. His ride was impressive and owning it made him feel a sense of pride.

    Just before Toby had a chance to disarm his auto’s alarm, he heard an odd sound. He turned toward it.

    Who the fuck is there? he called out, gripping the handle of his pistol, ready to pull it out if necessary. Come out and show yourself.

    Help, someone called weakly. Help me.

    Toby could tell that the pleading voice belonged to a woman. When he squinted, he could see a form lying on the ground near the dumpster. He didn’t know if it was a trick or a set up, so he didn’t automatically jump to the rescue.

    Who are you? What’s wrong?

    He....lp, the person said again, ignoring his questions.

    Not trusting the situation, Toby grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911. When the operator answered, he summarized the situation and was told an officer would be there shortly. While he waited on the police to arrive, he turned on the headlights of his vehicle in order to see more clearly. He looked around, surveying the area, before he cautiously proceeded over to the person.

    A white, disheveled, woman with unkempt hair was curled in a fetal position. Her filthy clothes were too big and swallowed her thin body.

    Hey, lady, you dead? he asked, because she was no longer moaning and was lying so still.

    No, I’m not dead, motherfucker, she said after a while. What kind of question is that? Why the fuck you just staring at me and shit? Help me. She managed to sit up and stare at him, accessing him for a while. You got a hit? she asked, rubbing her frail arms like she was freezing.

    Man, fuck, Toby swore. It’s a damn crack hoe, he said in disgust. Hoe, you better not be tricking around my business, fucking with my customers and shit. I thought you were in trouble. Get yo’ dusty ass up and get out of here.

    "I am in trouble. Them motherfuckers gave me some slap head after I

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