we had collected money and roughed up a few people, which was fun, but we were about to kill these muthafuckas.
We never even knew their names, much less who they were and what they had done for André to want them dead. But the time for thinkin’ was past; nothing to do then but pull and blast. I looked at Bobby, we pulled out our guns and we fired.
After that, me and Bobby worked for André. First, we were runners. Then we started collecting for André, but he liked us, so he started taking us around with him. Sometimes we felt like pets, two pit bulls. One day André took me and Bobby us to collect from a guy that owed him twenty-five grand. I was eighteen at the time. After we tied the guy up, and André started in on him.
“Where the fuck is my money?” André and Bobby started torturing the guy. Then his wife came home. André took her in the back and raped her.
Now Bobby’s idea of torture was while he slaps the guy around he tells him jokes. Some of them are funny, some aren’t. If you laugh, you get slapped. If you don’t laugh, you get hit. Hard. While all that was going on, I was sitting quietly watching The Soldier on TV. When André got finished with the wife and came out of the back room, he slapped the guy a couple of times.
“Where the fuckin’ money?”
But by now the man is too out of it from the beating he got from Bobby to talk. André looked at me. “‘Yo, Black, come here.”
But I didn’t even answer him.
“Yo, Black, I think this guy’s dead,” André said.
I looked at them, got up, and walked over to the guy.
“Look at me,” I said and shook the guy, but he didn’t move. So I said it again. “Look at me.” This time he opened his eyes and looked up me.
I took out my gun, held it to his forehead, and shot him. One shot in the head. Then I looked at André. “Now he is.”
André freaked out. “Damn! You just a vicious mutha fucka! A vicious black wearin’ mutha fucka, ain’t you?”
“Whatever, can we go now?”
After that the name stuck. I became known as Vicious Black.
Chapter Two
After that, Vicious Black’s reputation grew. It wasn’t long before Nick and Jamaica began working for André. He was a drug dealer. As far as he was concerned, gambling and prostitution was just a sideline. But I thought there was plenty of money to be made there. So since none of our crew were into the dope game, we found other ways to make money.
Nick started out runnin’ a crap game. He made a lot of money runnin’ that game. I remember there was this guy named Big Willie that used to always wanna fight everybody. He was always talking about killing niggas when he lost. So one night, I was there with Nick. Big Willie was there and he’s losing big money. Everybody was betting big money. There was a kid named Ricky Wells and he was on a roll. Big Willie lost again and started screaming about how much money he had lost and how the dice must be loaded. Then he turned to Nick. “ You usin ’ loaded dice.”
“Ain’t nobody usin ’ no damn loaded dice,” Nick said while he counted his money. “You need to shut the fuck up and take his broke-ass home.” Nick picked up the dice and handed them back to Ricky and took his eyes off Big Willie. Before Nick knew it, he was on his back, and Big Willie was standing over him pointing a gun.
“Nobody talks to me like that!” Big Willie yelled and cocked the hammer.
When I saw what was happenin’ to run over to Nick and punched Big Willie in the face. I hit him so hard that it broke his jaw. Willie dropped the gun and grabbed his face. I pulled out a gun and held it to Willie’s head.
“You ain’t killin’ nobody tonight; especially him. Get the fuck outta here and don’t ever let me catch you ‘round here.”
Me and Bobby went freelance and did a few jobs on their own . It Wanda, who always had a head for business, that insisted that the first thing we should do was to start a business to run our money through.
We never even knew their names, much less who they were and what they had done for André to want them dead. But the time for thinkin’ was past; nothing to do then but pull and blast. I looked at Bobby, we pulled out our guns and we fired.
After that, me and Bobby worked for André. First, we were runners. Then we started collecting for André, but he liked us, so he started taking us around with him. Sometimes we felt like pets, two pit bulls. One day André took me and Bobby us to collect from a guy that owed him twenty-five grand. I was eighteen at the time. After we tied the guy up, and André started in on him.
“Where the fuck is my money?” André and Bobby started torturing the guy. Then his wife came home. André took her in the back and raped her.
Now Bobby’s idea of torture was while he slaps the guy around he tells him jokes. Some of them are funny, some aren’t. If you laugh, you get slapped. If you don’t laugh, you get hit. Hard. While all that was going on, I was sitting quietly watching The Soldier on TV. When André got finished with the wife and came out of the back room, he slapped the guy a couple of times.
“Where the fuckin’ money?”
But by now the man is too out of it from the beating he got from Bobby to talk. André looked at me. “‘Yo, Black, come here.”
But I didn’t even answer him.
“Yo, Black, I think this guy’s dead,” André said.
I looked at them, got up, and walked over to the guy.
“Look at me,” I said and shook the guy, but he didn’t move. So I said it again. “Look at me.” This time he opened his eyes and looked up me.
I took out my gun, held it to his forehead, and shot him. One shot in the head. Then I looked at André. “Now he is.”
André freaked out. “Damn! You just a vicious mutha fucka! A vicious black wearin’ mutha fucka, ain’t you?”
“Whatever, can we go now?”
After that the name stuck. I became known as Vicious Black.
Chapter Two
After that, Vicious Black’s reputation grew. It wasn’t long before Nick and Jamaica began working for André. He was a drug dealer. As far as he was concerned, gambling and prostitution was just a sideline. But I thought there was plenty of money to be made there. So since none of our crew were into the dope game, we found other ways to make money.
Nick started out runnin’ a crap game. He made a lot of money runnin’ that game. I remember there was this guy named Big Willie that used to always wanna fight everybody. He was always talking about killing niggas when he lost. So one night, I was there with Nick. Big Willie was there and he’s losing big money. Everybody was betting big money. There was a kid named Ricky Wells and he was on a roll. Big Willie lost again and started screaming about how much money he had lost and how the dice must be loaded. Then he turned to Nick. “ You usin ’ loaded dice.”
“Ain’t nobody usin ’ no damn loaded dice,” Nick said while he counted his money. “You need to shut the fuck up and take his broke-ass home.” Nick picked up the dice and handed them back to Ricky and took his eyes off Big Willie. Before Nick knew it, he was on his back, and Big Willie was standing over him pointing a gun.
“Nobody talks to me like that!” Big Willie yelled and cocked the hammer.
When I saw what was happenin’ to run over to Nick and punched Big Willie in the face. I hit him so hard that it broke his jaw. Willie dropped the gun and grabbed his face. I pulled out a gun and held it to Willie’s head.
“You ain’t killin’ nobody tonight; especially him. Get the fuck outta here and don’t ever let me catch you ‘round here.”
Me and Bobby went freelance and did a few jobs on their own . It Wanda, who always had a head for business, that insisted that the first thing we should do was to start a business to run our money through.
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