by L. Brown
Finally, Reef told him, “It’s an armored truck.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Ghost said boldly “When and where?”
“Well, we’ll get into the details when the time is right.” “And when is that?” Ghost furrowed his brow.
There was a moment of silence before Shareef broke it. “Okay, the take is in Philly. I’m going to fly back with you guys. We’ll take care of things from there. But remember, we still got a few people we have to put in the dirt.”
Ghost nodded, but he wasn’t concerned about them right now. They were talking money, and money came first.
“How much are we talking?”
Not expecting the figure Reef shot at him, Ghost’s eyes shot open excitedly when he said, “Twelve million...at least.”
CHAPTER 17
REESE’S COUSIN TERRY had been with Reese and Mar a lot lately. He had a go-hard mentality, and, once Reese told him he had some drama, he was with it.
However, Terry wasn’t getting no money, so he was hurting along with his cousin and Mar. Reese and Mar had trouble making ends meet ever since they had been going through it with Ghost. They couldn’t hustle in the hood because the cops were still investigating the murders, and niggas wanted them dead. So, they squashed the little misunderstanding they had about the botched kidnapping and agreed to put their heads together to get some money.
With C-Note dead, things were even worse. He had been their breadwinner. They had relied on him for his moneymaking craft. Luckily, after he got killed, they still had his equipment: the computer, printers, plates, and other little things he had used to duplicate tender notes.
They had been present a lot of times while C-Note put together batches of the funny money, so they knew the basics of how he did it. However, lacking firsthand knowledge made it a little complicated to do, but that didn’t stop them from trying.
They didn’t do a bad job for their first time. At least, they didn’t think so. It wasn’t C-Note’s quality of counterfeit, but it was good enough. Now that the money was put together, they needed a way to get rid of it.
They came to the consensus that it would be best if they went at hustlers to get the money off. Instead of doing small things like purchasing clothes and other accessories, they decided to buy a large quantity of drugs from dealers and resell it to others.
Reese and Mar knew quite a few hustlers who had weight, so they picked their prey carefully. They decided a Dominican named José would be the sweetest candidate to burn first. José was an older Spanish hustler known for having coke like he grew it in his backyard. He had a bad reputation for being burnt. Rumors were that he was often taken advantage of, but did nothing in return.
Reese knew, from dealing with José on numerous occasions, that the soft Hispanic wouldn’t even count the money before making the transaction.
They arranged a meeting with José. Reese put in an order for two bricks of powder. Without hesitation, José told him he could cover it whenever he was ready.
They met at the McDonald’s parking lot on Broad and Diamond Streets. The spot was better known as Club McDonald’s because of late night gathering on weekends by hustlers and chicks from all over the city. Many drug deals and bodies dropped at the same very location.
“It’s been awhile, my friend? How have things been going for you?” José asked, starting small talk.
“Good, good. You got that?” Reese cut to the chase. He was a little nervous, and the unexpected guest didn’t help.
“Yeah, yeah. I got you, papi.” José nudged his man who pulled a plastic bag from between his legs and passed it to Reese.
José turned the dome light on inside the car. “Check it out, my man. Pure, the best fish in town.”
“Man, I know what you’re working wit, Pop! Turn that damn light off before you get us booked out here.” Reese didn’t want the light on once he passed them the money.
José turned the light out. Reese, then, handed the chubby passenger the bag of money. Reese’s heart dropped when the man opened the bag to take a look at its contents. Reese held his hand on the door handle, ready to make a run for it if they detected the funny money.
The passenger fondled with the rubber-banded stacks of money. He quickly thumbed through the money to be certain it was, in fact, money. Indeed, it was. Just not all real money.
“It’s all there,” Reese quickly assured them.
The bag contained $70,000. They had put real bills on the tops and bottoms of each stack. After a satisfactory inspection, the men shook hands, and Reese slid out of the car before watching them pull off.
Reese strolled to the awaiting car where Mar and Terry were reclined. A sly grin was spread across his face. Now, all they had to do was sell the load and turn the drugs into paper. Reese wondered why they hadn’t been doing this before because of how sweet it was.
“Pop the trunk, so I can put this shit up.” Reese hopped in with them.
“Good thing I didn’t have to use this,” he said, patting his waist.
“Yeah, right, nigga,” Mar said. “They probably would have took that shit from you just like that bitch did.”
Back down in Miami, the night was young. The sky was clear, and the warm air was creating a laid-back atmosphere. Everybody was cooling out in the pool. Ghost and Kia were the only two missing. They’d already vanished back into the hotel.
Frog wasn’t in the water either. He was poolside, stretched out in a beach chair. As always, he had a chick with him. She was massaging his shoulders while he laid back and stared at the sky. Around his head was an ace bandage. After receiving stitches for getting hit with the bottle, he had gauze and an ace bandage wrapped around his head with an ice pack resting on top. The woman with him was the one who he’d met the night before being smashed with a bottle.
His team laughed at him for the ass whooping he got. The sight of the turban-like bandage around his head was hilarious. Even he had to chuckle about the incident. He never got the chance to get the guy back because security threw his ass out the club like Uncle Phil used to throw Jazzy Jeff out the house on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.
The couples, Reem and Toya and Schemes and Rita, were in the pool, cuddled up. Kia didn’t spill her guts about the girls messing with one another, and they had yet to disclose their secret affair. They both knew the cat would come out of the bag sooner or later. Toya wanted to tell Reem, but she didn’t know how to, so she would let actions tell it all.
Schemes and Rita hadn’t made it official yet, but they were feeling each other, and, without putting it into words, they were becoming a couple.
Toya broke the snuggling with Reem and floated over to Rita and Schemes. Reem had no clue why she’d broken the embrace or what she was up to, which was why his eyes grew to the size of golf balls when she started grinding on Rita’s ass.
Schemes’s ego was crushed because he thought Toya had wanted him the whole time, but, come to find out, she and Rita had something going on.
Rita turned around and poked her ass in Schemes’s crotch as she embraced Toya, and the two of them explored the rest of each other’s bodies while locking tongues.
Schemes and Reem’s confusion turned into lustful stares. Their manhoods rose to the occasion as their girls demonstrated that they were beyond bi-curious.
Now, Schemes knew why Toya was always giving him funny stares. The kissing, fondling, and touching made it clear that the girls were into each other, so Toya had her eye on him because she was jealous that Rita was all over him. She was feeling him out.
Toya broke off from Rita and swam back over to Reem.
“Damn, baby! I didn’t know you got down like that.” Reem stared into her eyes without breaking the eye contact.
“It’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Toya said and licked her lips.
“Oh, yeah?” Reem couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re full of surprises, huh?”
She whispered in his ear, and then took him by his hand, leading him out
of the pool. Her body dazzled in the lights as the water dripped off her body. They strolled by Schemes and Rita, who were still in the pool, whispering and giggling. Reem wanted to try his hand and get it cracking with all of them. He nodded his head, telling Schemes to bring Rita and come on.
Frog had watched the entire thing go down, from the kissing to them walking past him to go up the stairs. He knew what time it was and wished he could go with them.
It was Schemes’s turn to get his little cousin back.
“Holla at you tomorrow, player,” he said with a smirk on his face as he passed Frog.
“Damn,” Frog said, letting it slip out by accident. The woman he was with smacked him in the back of the head to let him know she’d heard him.
CHAPTER 18
WHAT REESE HAD PULLED off on Fat José was being whispered about all over the city. People talked about how José was sweet and had been burned once again. It was obvious that José was scared to put in work on Reese.
But that was exactly what had the people talking. He had a stake out on Reese’s head, and word was traveling fast. Everybody wanted to get at him and collect the reward—a hundred grand.
José’s pockets were as fat as his stomach, and a hundred grand was crumbs to the cake he had. So to put it on the head of yet another nigga who had played him was nothing to him. José’s motto was “Why get my hands dirty when I can pay someone peanuts to kill for me?” Niggas in the city killed over parking spots, so he knew they’d jump on the hundred he’d put on Reese’s head.
Unfortunately for Reese, word of the bounty had yet to reach him. He and his team were already lining up the next victim to burn with the counterfeits. They figured José would take the loss on the chin, but, if he didn’t, they would kill him.
They made another batch of the replica money. It took them a few days to make a large enough quantity, but, this time, the money came out better than the last one. They were confident that they could get the money off.
Reese contacted another connect he’d dealt with in the past. It was another Spanish hustler from North Philly named Suave. Suave owned a few detail shops and mini-markets throughout the city. But he moved plenty of coke and dope.
Suave was shocked when he got a call from Reese. He couldn’t believe Reese called him asking to buy two bricks. He’d already heard about what Reese had done to José and about the money on his head. At first, he started to tell Reese no, but two things came to mind: Reese would come straight to him, making it easy for him to rock him and get that money, and he felt disrespected because now Reese was trying to play him, too, and, for that, he had to pay.
Suave told Reese to meet him down on Seventh and Tioga Street at one of his stash houses. There, he would kill him and collect the bread from José. It would be the easiest hundred grand he’d ever made.
“This shit is sweet,” Reese said, turning the music down in the car.
“Turn this shit back up!” Terry said. “That’s my shit.” Young Jeezy’s, Recession, was playing.
“Yeah, I know this nigga is going to be lunching,” Mar agreed. Mar had dealt with Suave a few times. Their relationship had been solid up until this point. They usually dealt straight, so this would catch Suave off guard.
“Call him to see where he’s at,” Mar told Reese.
They were in a car Terry had brought after turning the last bricks over. The Cadillac DTS cruised down Erie Avenue approaching Seventh Street.
Suave picked up after a few rings.
“Where you at?” Reese asked him.
“I’m on Seventh Street, where I told you to meet me.”
“All right. I’m bending the corner now. Is that you standing on the corner?” Reese asked, referring to a few dudes who were out.
“Naw, park up. I’m coming out now.”
Just like last time, they had laced the stacks with real bills on top and bottom of every stack and bonded them together with rubber bands.
A man appeared and stood on the stoop of a house up the street. Unless Suave had lost a hundred pounds and a few inches, it wasn’t him outside the house. He wore a hoodie and was looking up and down the block like he was looking for someone. He didn’t see them sitting in the car down the street.
“There he go right there,” Terry said.
“Is that him?” Reese said, asking himself more than anyone else. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the man in the dark. After saying “fuck it,” he double-checked his burner before hopping out the car with Mar. Terry stayed put. “Come on. Let’s see if that’s him.”
They strolled up the block, side by side. Reese carried the bag of money down by his side. The man gazed at them as they approached. They could tell now that it wasn’t Suave. It was a mean-faced Spanish dude wearing a hoodie draped over his head. His almond-shaped eyes wore an evil glare, and he had what appeared to be craters in his face. His hand was buried inside his hoodie pockets, and he was fidgeting with something. No doubt it was a gun. His face was balled up, spelling trouble. What the fuck is his problem? Reese wondered.
He should have never spoken. His voice didn’t match the tough guy image he was trying to portray.
“Suave said come in,” he said in a soft, squeaky voice. He turned to go into the house, but frowned when he didn’t find them following him inside. “Come the fuck on!” he snapped, sounding like an angry eight-year-old.
“Who the fuck you talking to? Where’s Suave?” Reese wasn’t feeling the dude’s tone. Tactically, Reese and Mar knew, if they went inside the house, they would never make it back out alive. It was no question if they were inside, Suave would count the money, so they were trying to do the deal outside.
“What?”
“Tell Suave to come to the door real quick,” Mar said. He remained as calm as possible. The Spanish dude probably didn’t pick up on it, but Mar and Reese could see the nervousness written on each other’s faces and body language.
Tough Guy probably did pick up on it because he smirked and said, “Hold on,” before disappearing behind the door which looked like it had seen better days.
“Yo! Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Mar whispered to Reese as soon as the dude went inside. Though it was frigid outside, beads of sweat sat on Mar’s nose. “This shit ain’t gonna work.”
Reese nodded, but, as soon as they turned to leave, the door opened. Suave appeared in the doorway with this dumb-ass smirk on his face. Tough Guy was behind him, but he was too tough to smile. He was grilling them.
Suave frowned and asked, “What’s the problem?”
“We didn’t know who the dude was,” Reese responded, referring to Tough Guy.
They all were standing on the curb now. The door was still open. Reese stole a glimpse inside. There were several more men sitting at a dusty-ass table. They looked as tense as the rest of them standing outside.
“Well, come on in.” Suave nodded toward the door as he turned to return inside the house.
Suave and his men planned to get them inside and end things quickly. They weren’t expecting Reese to have company, but, for a hundred grand, he could die, too. It didn’t matter to them.
“Y...y...you got the work?” Reese stuttered out. He could have smacked himself for being so nervous.
“Of course, I do. Don’t be silly,” Suave said confidently. “Now, come on in. It’s biting out here.”
Reese didn’t know what to do, and Mar’s silence and blank facial expression showed he didn’t have a clue about what to do either. They both knew one thing, though—they couldn’t go inside the house.
As if by miracle, Reese’s phone went off.
“Yo!”
He picked it up with a sigh of relief. He gave Suave and Tough Guy his back while he talked on the phone. Terry was on the other end of the line.
The others didn’t know who was on the phone, but Suave showed his impatience. A hundred grand was standing right in front of him.
Mar watched as they looked at Reese like a piece of bread. He
wasn’t feeling the vibe he was getting from them, but then, he didn’t know if it was that or his own nervousness. The tension grew thicker by the second. Mar knew Reese was buying time, but he, also, knew it was about to run out.
As if Suave’s patience wore thin, he walked up the steps and told Tough Guy, “Handle that.”
Tough Guy nodded. Reese ignored them, keeping his back turned to the three of them. Terry had seen them turning around, so he called Reese’s phone to see what was up.
Mar’s eyes shifted to and from Tough Guy to Reese. Tough Guy’s hand came out of his pocket, and a black handgun was clutched in it. He raised it to the back of Reese’s head and squeezed the trigger.
“Reese!” Mar screamed in sync with the explosion of the gun. At the same time, Mar smacked Tough Guy’s hand down. A split second later, and Reese’s life would have been a wrap. Reese spun around to find them wrestling over the gun. A car engine revved to life and tires screeched from down the block.
Reese pulled his gun from his waist and tried to shoot Tough Guy, but he couldn’t get a good shot because he was wrestling with Reese. He started shooting at the windows and doors of the house Suave was in. He knew that they would be on their way out, so he fired before they could.
The gun the two were tussling for went off a few more times. Mar banged Tough Guy’s hand against the hood of a parked car until he broke his grip, and he dropped the gun. The weapon skidded out into the middle of the street.
Terry was just as amped as the others; he pulled the car up, but flew by them a couple houses before stopping. He threw the car in reverse and backed up so fast that he flew back past where they were a couple of houses before stopping.
Reese and Mar broke out into a sprint into the street and jumped inside the car.
Reese dived in the backseat. Mar slid across the hood of the car and jumped in the passenger seat. Terry slammed on the gas, and the car’s tires hollered before the car took off.
