by L. Brown
After a brief moment of silence, Ghost agreed. “All right, old head, but we have to end this shit ASAP.”
“Ghost, they can’t touch what’s not there. There is always a reason for what I say, so get packed up, and I’ll have arrangements made for a private jet to fly you guys down.”
“You own a jet?” Ghost asked, shifting the subject.
Shareef laughed and said, “I wish! Naw, man. I have a membership with NetJets. You’ll love it, so quit the questions and round the fam up. I’ll call you back with the time and all for the flight.”
Ghost was digging his pop’s friend. He was looking forward to getting more acquainted with him. He went to start packing his bags. He had a flight to catch.
They can’t touch what’s not here, he thought.
CHAPTER 14
IT WASN’T HARD TO CONVINCE the others to take the trip down Miami. They were sure that there would be sunnier days in the city of partying and bullshit.
The seven of them boarded the private jet in amazement. None of them had ever experienced such luxury before. The interior was astounding. Marble tables complimented the milky butterscotch seats and cream carpet. They got comfortable quickly, watching television on the screens mounted above the seat.
They even dragged Frog along with them for the getaway to keep him settled and out the streets for a while. Rita found a way to squeeze herself into the plans of the sudden visit down south. Kia’s brother Bird kept Khashan with him while they went away.
The amenities the flight attendants provided were comforting. Ghost drifted off in thoughts about how the money he had was nothing compared to the life Shareef was living. He estimated that an annual membership with NetJets would cost his entire stash alone.
Frog was stuck in a reverie of his own. Staring at the vacant seat, he thought about his best friend Snook and how he should be there with them. He grimaced and vowed to kill those responsible or join his homie in the dirt. Street justice still hadn’t been exercised on Reese and his team, and he felt like they were running from their problems. He wasn’t feeling the shit Ghost was kicking about using their heads and niggas couldn’t touch what they couldn’t feel. He agreed to take the trip but promised himself he would move with or without them.
When the flight landed, a stretch limo was awaiting their arrival to transport them to their destination. According to Reef, their hotel reservations had already been made.
“Damn! This shit is nice,” Kia said, loving the scenery.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to get out on these streets and get at some of these chickens,” Schemes said.
“That’s all you think about. Your dick is going to fall off!” Kia said seriously, but laughed afterward.
Reem was the only one who peeped Rita roll her eyes. She tried hard to hide the jealousy, but she wasn’t doing a good job at it. Reem knew she was feeling Schemes, and Schemes probably knew, too, but didn’t give her much rhythm.
The limo driver had strict instructions to take them straight to their hotel, so they could get comfortable. Aligned in the back of the limo, they wasted no time popping a few bottles of champagne and filling flutes with drinks they’d never even heard of. Who cared? They were in Miami, so they popped the corks and guzzled the contents.
“Damn! Slow down, Schemes,” Ghost told him.
Schemes didn’t bother filling a flute with the drinks. He drunk straight from the bottle.
“I’m here to ball out!”
Another eye roll from Rita. Toya caught this one, though.
“Girl, let me find out,” she said, nudging Rita with her arm.
“Find out what?” Rita’s smile covered her whole face.
Only Reem knew what they were talking about because he could tell she was feeling his man.
As soon as the plane landed, they forgot what they were in the city for. The purpose of them coming down south was to escape the madness taking place back at home. Shareef’s suggestion was to come down to Miami to get away from Philly for a while. He wanted to devise a plan to put an end to Ghost’s problems.
Shareef wasn’t a killer, though he was willing to. However, he was more of a thinker. One who could devise a plan to take over the world. He had plans to put Ghost on to some major money, but, with the drama taking place, he knew it wasn’t a good idea to mix the two.
Frog rolled down the window and the southern heat instantly smacked them in the face.
“Damn! you see that Lambo?” he said with his arm out the window, pointing at a black Lamborghini that was passing in the opposite lane.
Schemes tugged at his shirt. “Man, act like you been somewhere before! You look like a groupie—all pointing out the window and shit!”
Everyone in the car burst into laughter. Frog smirked as well. He knew he was out of line for pointing like a fan seeing their favorite music artist.
“Whatever. That’s going to be me one day,” Frog said with certainty.
“Oh, yeah, and how the hell are you going to get that?” Schemes asked.
All eyes were on Frog. He was dead serious, and the look on his face showed it. He had no doubt in his mind that he would, one day, be a rich man.
“I’ma take it!” he told them with a sly grin.
Back in Philly, between the confines of the brick layered CFCF, Feeq was roaming the corridors of the county jail. He was fortunate enough to recently gain a job in the receiving room, so he was able to move throughout the jail. It was better than being booked in a cell for countless hours.
While in the hall, he saw Rico being escorted down the hall by an officer. Rico was draped in an oversized orange jumpsuit with his hands handcuffed behind his back.
“Step against the wall for me,” the guard instructed Feeq, while holding Rico by the arm.
It was procedure for the officers to secure the inmates who were handcuffed while in the presence of other inmates who were unsecured, so the guard made Feeq stay against the wall within a safe distance from Rico while he escorted him from the hole to the visiting room.
“What’s good?” Feeq asked Rico as he was passing by.
“Ain’t shit. They gave me ninety days in the twist for that shit,” Rico told him, wearing a smirk. He was obviously proud of the work he’d put in. “Send me some grub down and something to read.”
“I got you,” Feeq promised. Feeq was very familiar with doing time in the hole, so he knew how rough it could be.
“Don’t send me no bullshit, like all those hood novels that be the same about how niggas be kingpins and all that,” Rico said.
“I got you. I’ma send you Corrupt City by Tra Verdejo and Project Terror by Jamal Lewis. They’re urban, but they’re on some different shit. They’re hot!”
“Who?” Rico asked, unfamiliar with the titles. He was just entering the visiting room.
“Man, I got you!” Feeq shouted, so he could hear him as he disappeared behind the door.
When Feeq arrived at the receiving room, Smitty greeted him as soon as he was buzzed through the door. Smitty was assigned to duty in the overcrowded intake room that day. He was slumped in the chair, blowing on the phone, getting paid for exactly what correctional officers did—nothing.
“What’s good?” Smitty asked Feeq, hanging up the phone.
“Ain’t shit.” Feeq lifted himself over the counter to see the platter in front of Smitty. “I see you’re eating good.”
“Yeah, if you wanna call this eating good.” Smitty downplayed the grub which was mouthwatering. “I’m trying to eat like you, playa. You ain’t forgot me, did you?”
“Naw, I’m a hit up my neph and see what I can put together. I haven’t spoken to him in a few days.” Smitty reminded him that he could manipulate Schemes into doing a robbery with Smitty and breaking bread with him. “As a matter of fact, let me use one of the phones down here,” Feeq continued.
“Go ahead.”
Feeq stepped off to go use the institutional phone in the receiving room. He knew he should have wait
ed until he got back to his cell to use the cell phone, but he was just as anxious to make the call as Smitty was. Little did he know, they both were trying to use one another for their own personal gain.
Feeq dialed the number and heard Schemes pick up. Next, he waited for him to accept the call.
The entire entourage finally reached their hotel in Miami. They all departed to their separate rooms. Ghost and Kia shared a room, and Reem and Toya had one of their own as well. Everyone else had personal rooms for the stay.
The evening was winding down, so everyone agreed to lie back for the night. They planned to hit the streets the next day to ball out. Ghost had plans to meet up with Reef the next day.
Instead of being cooped up inside the dry-ass hotel rooms, they agreed to meet at the outdoor pool. The seven of them were spread out around the pool area, which was packed with others.
Ghost and Kia were in the pool intimately cuddled. Ghost rested his back against the ledge of the pool while Kia straddled her legs around his waist. Things were beginning to heat up between the two of them.
Reem and Toya weren’t doing anything much different. They, also, occupied the far end of the pool’s corner, indulging in some passionate kissing, fondling, and whispering. Toya was sinking herself deeper and deeper into his heart. She had yet to admit it, but Reem had already locked in a place of her heart. She just had some skeletons in her closet that she hadn’t yet revealed. She planned on telling him during this getaway, but she was waiting for the perfect moment to present itself.
Meanwhile, while other hotel stragglers frequented the pool area, Schemes found himself getting acquainted with a half-drunken Rita. They were slouched back in beach chairs, conversing.
“I needed this getaway,” Rita vented. “It has been a long week for me.”
“Shit! You ain’t the only one, baby girl,” Schemes concurred. “Child, let me tell you. Someone robbed the Walmart while I was working. They tied me up and put me in a damn mop closet for I don’t know how long. Then, some nigga tried to kidnap Toya. I wasn’t having that though.”
Schemes swallowed hard at the mention of the Walmart robbery. While he was a bit nervous that Rita would pick up on his guilty demeanor, he was, also, cracking up inside because she didn’t even realize she was sitting right next to one of the people that had held the store up.
Schemes was starting to dig Rita. She was thorough all the way around the board. She wasn’t the prettiest, but she wasn’t the ugliest either. On a scale from one to ten, Schemes rated her at about a seven or maybe an eight. He could tell she was intelligent because she had a lot of knowledge, ranging from sports to politics. They conversed about nearly everything.
Though Rita was a bit tipsy, she peeped how Schemes was studying her. His eyes could burn holes in her. She was coated with a brown texture, which was enriched with a glossy glow. The length of her hair couldn’t be determined because it had extensions in it, which made her hair slither down past her shoulders. Her fingers and toenails were freshly done as well. But what was grasping Schemes’s attention was her body in her bikini. She was petite but with curves, a flat stomach, eye- catching hips and a perky ass. A perfectly round set of D-cups rested steady inside her top without sagging.
Rita definitely had Schemes’s attention because not far from where they were sitting, Frog was chilling with not one but two bad woman.
Schemes planned to hit as many chicks as he could while down in Miami, but, so far, Rita had him distracted.
“Rita, you know what? I’m really digging—”
Schemes was interrupted by his phone ringing. The display screen told him it was his uncle calling. A quick thought about how much his uncle was missing while locked up passed through his head while listening to the automated machine.
“Yo, unc!” he said, accepting the call.
“What’s good, neph? My bad. I haven’t hit you in a minute.” Schemes knew his uncle well enough to know by that lousy statement that Feeq needed something.
They went through the motions, engaging in a bunch of small talk. Feeq was excited to hear they were in Miami. He asked who Shareef was but brushed it off once he learned he was a friend of Ghost’s pop.
“Hey! Yo, things are getting dark for me, neph.” Feeq paused to allow the hint to sink in and then added, “I need you to get with Smitty.”
“Smitty?” Schemes didn’t recognize the name.
“Oh, my bad, D. We call him Smitty in here. The one who messes with—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know who you’re talking about. I just saw him like a week ago,” Schemes interrupted.
“Yeah, I know. I heard y’all are doing it big out there, too. But listen, I need you to get with him ASAP, so y’all can put something together,” he said, hoping his nephew caught on to what he was saying without him having to go into detail over the institutional phone.
“Put something together? Come on, unc. I don’t even know dude like that.” Schemes couldn’t believe he had asked him to do something with someone he barely knew. He knew Feeq was talking about doing a robbery with Smitty, but he wasn’t with it. Just because he messed with his cousin Taniesha, he really didn’t want to move with him because he didn’t really know him. On top of that, the nigga was a CO. He wasn’t a cop, but shit, he was the closest thing to it.
The call lasted several more minutes. Feeq was persistent in trying to convince Schemes that Smitty was good people and could be trusted. Schemes was glad when the automated female told them the call was moments from being disconnected. His uncle was spoiling his mood, but, when he hung up, he decided that he wasn’t going to allow it to ruin his night.
“What’s wrong?” Rita asked.
She had heard the whole conversation. Well, at least, Schemes’s side, but she tried not to be too nosy. Sensing his uneasiness, she became physical, trying to comfort him. She sat on his lap and the two of them locked eyes, talked, laughed and drifted off in their own little world. Stuck in their mingling, Schemes couldn’t help but think about how down to earth Rita was. A flashback played in his head: the night Reem clotheslined her and she hit the ground like she was in the ring with Hulk Hogan. The thought almost made him laugh in her face.
He was snapped back to reality when Frog slid by with the two dime chicks he was chilling with trailing behind. As he passed, he winked at Schemes and said, “I’ll holler at you tomorrow, playboy.”
Frog wore an ear to ear smile. One of the chicks cut her eye at Schemes as she passed.
Damn! Schemes thought.
CHAPTER 15
GHOST HAD CANCELED the meeting with Shareef the night before because things had heated up between him and Kia. It didn’t take long before they found themselves heading from the pool back upstairs to their room. The Miami atmosphere had a way of setting the mood for steamy sex.
Today, Ghost was rolling with Shareef. Much to his surprise, Shareef picked him up in a Maybach 62. They played the back of the Bach while a personal driver rolled them through South Beach. Ghost kept his composure, but he couldn’t believe he was riding in a Maybach. Just several months ago, he was stuck in a building with dreams of riding in the cars he watched rap stars in videos ride in. Now, he was slouched in the snow-white machine and was enjoying every second of it.
Not only was the car immaculate, but the city was a sight to see—palm trees, expensive cars, and half-naked women walking the streets like it was normal. Ghost noticed he was the only one who seemed to be amazed. Everyone but him was used to seeing what he was just now seeing. He was running late.
“I see you like it down here, huh?” Shareef asked, noticing Ghost’s eyes glued outside the window.
“Like it? I love it!” he answered. Ever since the moment he touched down in South Beach, his head was on a swivel, taking in the sights.
“You’ll have plenty of time to enjoy yourself. But right now let’s talk about what you came down here for.”
The thought of Reese had yet to cross Ghost’s mind since the departure o
f the private jet. At the moment, all he thought about was money and women and cars and clothes.
“Damn, did you see that chick right there?” Ghost said, nearly breaking his neck.
“Do me a favor. Pull that curtain shut, Ghost.” Shareef’s patience was at its thinnest.
He liked Ghost, but his lack of attention and seriousness bothered him. Here it was, they had an urgent matter on their hands, and Ghost seemed to have little to no concern about it. Ghost reluctantly drew the curtain in the Maybach’s window closed and gave Shareef an irritated look.
“Ghost, you got people that want you dead, and here you are worrying about these bitches out here! You will have plenty of time to worry about that, but, right now, we need to talk about how to handle this situation you got yourself in!”
Ghost remained silent for a second before saying, “You’re right.” He knew Shareef had invited him and his family down to his city to get away and figure things out. He felt bad because Shareef was embracing him and his family. Their problems came along with them and he accepted that as well. Reef obviously wasn’t playing, and it was time for him to take him more seriously. But he figured a little fun while miles away wouldn’t hurt. But Shareef was right about them having plenty of time for that later.
“So tell me about these dudes you’re at it with.” Reef broke the silence first.
Ghost filled him in on everything he knew about them and ran the whole thing down to him about how the drama began in the first place. But something really stood out to Shareef and he couldn’t believe they hadn’t picked up on it yet.
“You mean to tell me this nigga’s mom rests her head on the block y’all hustle on?”
Ghost knew instantly where he was going with things. He could have smacked himself in the forehead for being so dumb. A million scenarios popped in his head instantly.
