''Hello, gentlemen...'' She said with her soft, succulent voice.
Her big, brown eyes captivated me and had me stuck in a daze. She had the lips of a goddess and the body of a video vixen. I stood in awe of her. Jay-Roc tapped me on my arm bringing me out of my trance.
''Hello...'' I responded, grabbing her smooth, manicured hand and planting a kiss on it.
She walked to Prince, gave him a kiss on the cheek and passed him a bag. When she turned to leave she puckered her sweet lips and blew me a kiss as she walked out the room. No one except for me had seen it.
Prince opened the bag and pulled out a glass jar full of rice. He then pulled a smaller bag from the jar that was filled with a white substance. He threw it into Jay-Roc’s lap.
''That’s the best heroin money can buy...China white,'' he said, proudly. ''That’s a sample...do as you please.”
Jay-Roc opened it and winked at me.
Before our departure Zabu spoke. ''Mr. King, that is a beautiful piece of jewelry you’re wearing on your neck. May I ask what it symbolizes?''
''This crown represents strength and loyalty,'' I said grabbing the medallion.
''Good answer.'' He replied, shaking his head up and down.
Jay-Roc and I left East Orange, New Jersey feeling content about the connect we had just made with the Africans. On top of that I was feeling a little special myself.
''Nigga, you been all smiles since we left Jersey. What you better do is get that bitch off your mind, King.'' Jay-Roc said, seriously while driving on the highway.
''The bitch is bad, Jay-Roc...you can’t front.''
''True, she is a bad bitch, but that’s the nigga Prince’s bitch. Let that shit go. All that’s gon’ do is create problems between them and us, and right now we don’t need anymore problems.'' He stressed.
''You absolutely right, but it’s something about her...the way she looked at me was crazy.''
''Man...you don’t even know that bitch’s name...let it go, King!''
He was right, I didn’t know her name, not yet, but I planned on finding out.
''Yo, I like how you got yourself together and pulled off that victory on the chessboard. You had that nigga sick, King.''
I stared out the window as the white lines quickly went by. ''He’s greedy...'' I said, ''he likes to take pieces...see...I play for position.''
Chapter Eleven
Heroin is a drug I really don’t know too much about. After we had gotten the sample from Prince we took it back to the hood and Jay-Roc said that Old man Ray could cut it for us.
Cutting the heroin consisted of adding quinine and Bonita to weaken it and double the weight. After that, the cut heroin was then sifted and spooned into waxed paper baggies like the ones stamp collectors use. The baggies were packed in bundles of ten for 10 dollars a bag and these were the bags that would be given to our street dealers.
Old man Ray tested the heroin before cutting it and told us that it was 88 percent pure, which he said was the best heroin you could get at the time.
After the cutting process was finished we gave old man Ray a sample and he said that it was the best product he’d had in twenty years. He told us nothing on the streets could come close to what we had and we needed to come up with a stamp.
''A stamp?'' I asked.
''Yeah, a stamp to signify your product line, so the people know exactly what they’re gettin’'' he said groggily, slowly nodding off into the arms of Morpheus. ''Whatever you come up wit’ jus’ make sure it’s different from everything else out there. This way, nobody can duplicate your stamp. If they do...y’all gotta handle that.''
One day I overheard a few fiends bragging to each other about who had the best dope on the streets. One of them kept calling the dope we sold ''King''.
That gave me the idea to go out and get a stamp with a crown on it. From that day forward, every waxed paper baggie with our product in it was stamped with the crown. ''King'' was the best dope on the market.
We started off with three dope spots in Brooklyn, one on Halsey Street, one on Chauncey Street, and one on Ralph Avenue. They were open from 7am to 3pm, 3pm to 11pm, and 11pm to 7am. Twenty-four hours a day the money was coming in. There wasn’t one time I pulled up on front of our spots and it wasn’t crowded. The lines looked like we were giving away free food.
One day a familiar face rolled up on me.
''Since they callin’ you King now you’re too big for us small time people, huh?'' I heard from behind me. I turned around and was shocked to see Butch ''The Bully'' in a wheelchair being pushed by his sidekick, Red. I hadn’t seen the two of them in years.
''Oh, shit you came back for revenge,'' I said, sarcastically throwing my hands into the air.
''Nah, I jus’ came to get my fix...that’s all.'' He replied.
Butch looked terrible. For him to be only two years older than I am, he looked like he was pushing forty. His skin was covered with dark blotches and his teeth were cracked and yellowish in color, at least what was left of them. He wore run down, old and dirty clothes and he smelled horrible. Red didn’t look as bad, but you could see the drugs had him too.
''King, help a nigga out...I’m kinda short?'' Butch asked, handing me two crumpled, one-dollar bills.
''Get the fuck out of my face, Butch!'' I snapped, knocking the money from his hands. ''Both of you motherfuckas get away from my gate!''
Red stared me down with an evil look and continued pushing Butch down the block in his wheelchair. I couldn’t believe this nigga had the nerve to come and ask me for something. If that nigga was in flames I wouldn’t spit on him.
''Fuck you, Deon!'' Butch yelled, halfway down the block.
Damn, I knew it was always bumps and grinds along the road to success, but shit, drugs will fuck your life up for real. In the back of my mind I knew better than to treat Butch and Red the way I did. They were less fortunate than I was, but it’s not easy for me to forget things that happened in the past.
Everything was going good with the Africans; we were re-ing up twice a month at 15 kilos at a time. We made so much money we had to rent an extra apartment just to stash it in.
One weekend while I was in Jersey at the Palisades Mall, I spotted her. She was wearing a black and white, long, chinchilla trimmed, mink coat, Louis Vuitton skinny jeans, a cashmere sweater and black, shiny, Louis Vuitton pumps. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes were covered with a pair of Chanel shades.
I walked up to her while she was checking out the shoe selection in the Gucci store.
''Excuse me,'' I said, brushing up against her. ''Don’t I know you from somewhere?'' I asked.
She pulled her shades down and gave me a funny look.
''I’m sorry...you may have me mistaken for someone else,'' she said, pushing her shades back over her eyes.
''Nah, I would never mistake you for someone else, you’re too beautiful,'' I said. She tried to hold back a smile, but she couldn’t. ''What’s a sexy lady like yourself doing out here alone?''
''What does it look like I’m doing?...shopping.''
''I see...would it be too much to ask for your name?''
''Listen,'' she said turning around to face me, ''I don’t talk to the help. What could you possibly do for me?'' she said, catching me off guard with her brash response.
''Sorry, but you must have me confused with someone else, ain’t no help here...I’m the King, baby!'' I countered. Once again she cracked a big smile. I had her. ''I just want to know your name because we were never formally introduced.''
''Is that right?'' She said. ''Well, my name is Malikah,'' she extended her hand; I took the opportunity to kiss it again.
''Malikah...that’s a beautiful name, what’s the meaning behind it?''
''It means Queen.'' She replied.
Nodding my head up and down I said, ''Queen, huh?...well, Malikah my name is Deon and it was a pleasure meeting you, I just want to tell you that you’re a very attractive young woman and remember
...'' I paused. ''Every Queen needs a King.''
I calmly turned and walked to the checkout register and left a stack of hundred dollar bills on the counter. I told the cashier it was for whatever Malikah was buying. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked out the store. She was going to be surprised when she found out that I paid for whatever she chose to get. The next time I ran in to her she would have to thank me.
I had made my move and I didn’t care what Jay-Roc said. I was not letting her get away. I had a strong feeling that she wanted me as bad as I wanted her, but she was just seeing if I had the guts to cross that nigga Prince, fuck him, I’m the King!
When I got back to my car I checked my cell phone and I had 10 missed calls. I dialed my voicemail and there was a message from Jay-Roc.
''Yo, where you at nigga? This bitch done lost her fuckin’ mind! Hurry up and get over here!'' He screamed.
My heart dropped and I began sweating immediately. My brain was racing because I didn’t know what was going on. What did she do? Were the police involved? All these questions and more ran through my mind in a matter of seconds. I started the car and drove to Queens to see Jay-Roc.
When I got to Jay-Roc’s house there were police cars everywhere. I hesitated on pulling into the driveway until I saw Jay-Roc leaning against one of the cop cars talking to the police officer and Shareeka in handcuffs being put into the back of an unmarked vehicle. The coroner’s van was parked on the lawn and they were bringing a body out zipped up in a black body bag.
I quickly hit the brakes, put the car in park and jumped out to see what was going on. I saw a tear coming from Jay-Roc’s eyes, so I knew it was something bad. I don’t think I had ever seen Jay-Roc shed a tear since I’ve known him.
''Excuse me, but this is a crime scene and we can not let you over here.'' An overweight, white cop said as he put his pudgy hand out to block me from going toward the house.
''I’m family,'' I said, trying to make my way around his wide frame.
''Let him through!'' Jay-Roc yelled out.
I walked over to where he was and his face had a blank look on it.
''Jay-Roc, what happened? Why are they taking Shareeka?''
He just stood there staring at me as tears rained down his face.
''Deon, she’s dead...'' He mumbled.
''Who’s dead, Jay-Roc?'' I looked over to the coroner’s van as they were placing the body inside. ''Jay-Roc, where’s Tiana?''
''She’s gone, Deon...that bitch killed my baby girl!''
''What?'' I couldn’t believe the words that came from his mouth. ''What the fuck do you mean she killed your baby?''
''That crazy bitch killed Tiana!'' He shouted. ''You stupid bitch...I’ma murder you!'' He screeched, as he lunged at the car Shareeka was being taken away in.
Once again I looked over at the coroner’s van and they were closing the back doors. Nothing was making sense to me. What the fuck happened? Why would Shareeka kill her own child? Before long I would get the answers to all my questions.
Later on I found out the whole story. Shareeka and Jay-Roc had a big fight over some money that she wanted, but he wouldn’t give it to her because she wouldn’t tell him what it was for. In a rage she put baby Tiana in a tub of scolding hot water and she died. Shareeka claims that she didn’t know the water was that hot, but Jay-Roc doesn’t believe her.
Asia told me that Shareeka was going through a lot with postpartum depression and she was stressed over Jay-Roc never being home, but I never thought it would lead to anything like this.
Baby Tiana’s funeral was the saddest day ever. I had never seen a casket so small before and it hurts to know that her life was taken away at such an early age. They say God never makes mistakes; I question him on this one. It wasn’t her time.
Shareeka stood trial and was found not guilty of the brutal death of baby Tiana. They ruled it an accident. Jay-Roc was never the same person after that. He allowed Shareeka to come back into his life though. I think deep inside of him he believed it was an accident too, but it would take some time for him to forgive her.
They attended counseling sessions, but their relationship was never what it was before the tragedy. It was a mystery to us all and only Shareeka knew the truth. If it wasn’t an accident, she would have to live with the fact that she killed her own child. Those are demons that would never be put to rest.
When baby Tiana died, a huge part of Jay-Roc died with her and he turned in to a completely different person from when I first met him. He had always been a sharp person, but his ambition had begun to dull and he was out of focus. Usually he was ten steps ahead of everyone, now he started to lag and the mistake of having an, “I don’t give a fuck!” attitude may have cost him his life.
He and Shareeka just couldn’t put the past behind them and it only fueled the fire for more disruptive behavior within their relationship.
Jay-Roc would tell me stories of their wild fights and how every conversation they had would turn into an argument. Money was tearing them apart and he was letting the life get the best of him. He started making runs and doing pick-ups and drop-off’s that he would usually have someone else do. He got himself caught up in a difficult situation.
It was a gloomy, Tuesday evening in late October. The weather had been horrible all day and it had just stopped raining. I was on my way uptown to the Bronx to see a few people I knew. I hadn’t seen Jay-Roc in days, but I had spoken to him earlier in the afternoon. He didn’t sound too good to me. He told me he was going to drop off some work in Harlem and he would make sure he came to see me as soon as he finished. I warned him about riding in the car with drugs, but he wasn’t listening. He got pulled over on the highway with two kilos of heroin.
While I was on my way to the Bronx I got the call from Lou and made a quick u-turn back to Brooklyn. ‘‘Lou, what the fuck happened?” I asked.
‘‘Son, I don’t know the whole situation. I got a call from Shareeka this morning and she was crying. I went by the house and she told me that Jay-Roc called her and said the DEA snatched him off the highway with some work in the car.”
''Get the fuck out of here! I just spoke to Jay-Roc earlier. I told him about that shit!'' I yelled, rubbing my forehead in frustration. I couldn’t believe it. Shit didn’t seem right to me. I needed to get to Shareeka and find out more information.
''Whatever you need me to do just give me the word, King.'' Reemo said, sitting in the passenger seat of Lou’s Lamborghini.
''Fuck it...shut this shit down until I figure out what’s going on.''
''Shut it down?'' Lou questioned.
''Yeah, shut it down, just until I get some understanding of what the fuck is going on.'' I said.
''With all do respect King...I feel your concern, but ain’t no reason to stop the money because of this shit.'' Lou said.
''I said shut it down!''
I wasn’t trying to hear a thing. I was closing shop until I knew what was good with my boy Jay-Roc. I called Shareeka and told her that I would be by later on.
I went to pick Rahmeek up so he could ride with me out to Queens.
When we got there Shareeka was cleaning. Rahmeek and I followed Shareeka into the kitchen. I started to say something, but she stopped me. She ran the water at full blast and turned the radio on.
''I don’t know if these motherfuckas got this house bugged or not,'' she spoke softly, taking a seat at the table.
''What the fuck happened?'' I whispered.
''I don’t know, King...'' she said as tears fell from her eyes. ''Earlier Jay-Roc called me from his phone. He said he was on the highway and he thought he was being followed. He was all nervous n’ shit. I told him to jus’ pull over and see what they would do. Next thing I know I hear a bunch of yelling n’ shit and then the phone cut off.''
''All right sis, just take it easy...I’ma take care of this. When he called you from jail what did he say?''
''He said he couldn’t say too much over the phone, but he said he wou
ld write me and he told me not to come down to see him.'' She replied.
''Cool,'' I said. ''Take this number down. It’s my emergency cell phone. When you hear from him, call me. Until then if you need anything get in touch with me...don’t hesitate.''
Rahmeek and I walked toward the front door to leave.
''King!'' She yelled out before I closed the door. She looked me dead in my eyes and said, ''you gotta fix this...you gotta get my baby outta there.''
''I got this Shareeka...Jay-Roc is like a brother to me. I would never turn my back on him.'' I answered.
Rahmeek and I sat in my car outside of Shareeka’s house for a few minutes. Things didn’t seem right to me and Rahmeek sensed it too.
''This shit ain’t right King,'' he said. ''Shorty was actin’ real funny back there and then that shit you told me your man Lou said was kinda suspect. How a nigga gon’ be worried ‘bout some paper when their peoples just got bagged by the feds? I know math my nigga and this shit ain’t addin’ up.''
I was thinking the feds had to be investigating for a while because they knew his every move. Word on the street was that Shareeka had something to do with Jay-Roc getting jammed up. They were saying that the motive was money and the fact that she could no longer live with him always throwing the heartbreaking death of baby Tiana in her face, so she decided to come up with her own plans.
If they were onto Jay-Roc, then more than likely they were on to me too. There were a lot of pieces to the puzzle that were missing, but I was on my job and I was going to find out the truth.
Chapter Twelve
King Page 8
