The House that Hustle Built, Part 1

by Nisa Santiago

  “But this is between you and me.”

  “Our little secret,” she replied for a laugh.

  ***

  After their afternoon dinner at Olive Garden, Cash and Pearla walked a few feet to the small park in the area. With the sun shining brightly down on them, the two decided to take advantage of the weather and lingered outside. They had a view of the cars flying by on the Belt Parkway, beyond which was a mountain of rolling grassy hills that came to an end at the sea. They were in their own little world.

  Cash and Pearla took a seat on the bench. For the moment, it was about each other, and they both gave the other their undivided attention. This time there were no cell phone interruptions.

  “What’s your story, Cash?” she asked suddenly.

  “My story?” he repeated, a raised eyebrow thrown her way.

  “I know the man I’m always hearing about from the streets. But who are you really?”

  The question caught Cash off guard. It boggled him. No one had ever asked him that, not even Stephanie.

  Cash averted his attention away from her for a moment, staring off at some distant place, his mind trapped in some nostalgic memory.

  Pearla was listening. She wanted to know if Cash could ever have a serious conversation without sex and cars being the topic.

  Out of nowhere, Cash mentioned his father Ray-Ray. “My father is a drunk and heroin addict,” he said, his voice sad. He rarely spoke about his father to anyone. “You know, my pops, he’s a poor and sick man. He never had much while I was growing up, but his view on life is remarkable. He’s always laughing and smiling, entertaining folks, even though his own life is fucked up. I guess that’s where I get my sense of humor from.”

  Hearing Cash talk about his father was a good thing in Pearla’s eyes. Once he started talking, as usual, he couldn’t stop. He went on to tell Pearla how close he was with his father, closer than he and his mother would ever be.

  “My moms, she a fuckin’ trip. The woman is in her forties and she out there trickin’ wit’ these young niggas. You know how embarrassing that shit is to me? Sometimes I just wanna spazz out on these niggas that get wit’ my moms, yo.”

  Pearla said, “My mother acts younger than me most times. She curses, dresses like she’s a stripper, and fucks everything moving. Me and my mother, we’re like night and day.”

  “Sometimes, I wish we could pick our parents.”

  Pearla laughed. “Ain’t that the truth?”

  The two continued to share some heartrending tales about their past, a lot of which was about their parents. It was surprising to hear that they had so much in common.

  They talked until the sun began to set behind the horizon. They’d lost track of time.

  “It’s gettin’ late,” Cash said.

  “It is.”

  Cash and Pearla locked eyes, their bond stirring up.

  “You are beautiful,” he said to her.

  With evening sweeping over the city, they walked to Pearla’s Benz. Pearla drove this time, while Cash relaxed in the passenger seat. Not being able to take his eyes off Pearla, there was one question that plagued his mind. Did she fuck Hassan? In a way, he was too afraid to ask.

  Pearla navigated her Benz to her mama’s place and invited Cash in.

  The house was empty and quiet. Poochie was working the night shift this week. The place was a much different place when her mother wasn’t home.

  With his hand still in hers, Pearla guided him into her bedroom.

  Cash looked around and smiled. He was impressed with the decor. He thought Pearla’s infatuation with Mickey Mouse was cute.

  Cash gazed into Pearla’s lovely eyes and felt drawn to her. Their long stares indicated they both wanted the same thing. He moved closer, placed his arms around her slim waist, and moved his lips toward her. Their lips and tongues became entwined, and their breaths became one.

  They tongued each other down slowly, as his hands gently fondled her backside. He slid his touch underneath her dress and removed her panties slowly. They both stripped and kissed at the same time, ready to explore each other’s body.

  Nestled in each other’s arms, Cash ran his tongue across her scented skin and continued to fondle her gently. Her body was nice; smooth, long legs, perky tits. Her small, tight ass and shaved pussy made him hard. He was big, nine inches at least, and his width opened up Pearla’s hand.

  After positioning herself on her back against her duvet, Cash climbed on top of her with eagerness to claim his prize. His bet with Petey Jay had long expired, but he still felt like he was winning.

  “You have a condom on you, Cash?” she said softly in his ear.

  He nodded and quickly grabbed his pants from off the floor and pulled out a large-size condom. He rolled the latex back on his thick penis and reclaimed his sexual position between her spread thighs.

  He didn’t miss a single curve on Pearla, pressing into her as he made her spread her legs some more, and he caressed the soft flesh of her inner thighs. She jerked from him piercing her, feeling his dick parting her soft, pink lips. He kissed her tits and gently teased her nipples to full hardness.

  “Ooooh! Ooooh!” she cooed. “Oh, God! It feels so good.”

  Cash steadied himself until he was deep inside of her, and thus began that brief period of time where nothing but ecstasy existed.

  “Fuck me! Ooooh, don’t stop! Please don’t stop!”

  Cash was a pro at sexing. He had this technique down and knew how to move his penis inside of a woman. His strokes were long and deep, but almost sensual and teasing. Her pussy grabbed him tightly with every stroke he thrust inside of her. He pushed her legs back and continued to mount her. Her pleasure zone felt like it was the place he belonged.

  Purposeful, steady, strong, and hard, he slid his dick in Pearla over and over and over again. With her legs wrapped tight around him, her nails in his back, and her hot breath in his ear, they were joined together as one.

  Her pussy was hypnotizing. She was tight and wet like no other, and she absorbed all of him. Her throbbing punani almost made him want to cry out and come instantly. “Ugh! Ugh!” he moaned.

  Trembling and shivering, Pearla chanted, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” to the heavens.

  For an hour straight, they’d fucked hard and sensual, implementing position after position, his hard dick in and out of her like a churning factory machine. He flipped her over and put her on her knees. With her ass in the air, Cash went primal inside her gushing pussy. Minutes later, as if on cue, they both came with a combination of grunts and moans.

  Cash pulled a naked Pearla into his arms and held her like she was his lady. Nestled together in the comfort of her bedroom, they started to have some pillow talk.

  Pearla gazed into Cash’s eyes and said to him, “Promise that you will never hurt me.”

  He gazed back and, with a deadpan expression, replied, “I promise.”

  Twelve

  Several weeks had passed since their sexual rendezvous, and so far, all was good. Pearla made it known around the neighborhood that she was in love with Cash. There was minor backlash coming from Stephanie, who was jealous of Cash’s new relationship with Pearla.

  With her marriage scheme between American women and Nigerian men in full effect and having three girls down for the cause, Pearla was on a roll. She resumed her shoplifting system with more girls and more profit, and felt like a queen bee bitch.

  It also didn’t take long for Cash to come to her with a new business proposal. The hustler Pearla was, she listened and was willing to try anything new. If it made sense, then it made dollars. Perez had told Cash about a new hustle he thought Pearla might be interested in. All she had to do was report her car stolen, and they would do the rest.

  The plan was, Cash would drive the car to Perez’s shop on Liberty, and there, they would remove al
l the leather seats, sound system, tires, and rims and keep them safe in his shop. Then Perez would flat-bed the stripped car and leave it on the city streets. Next, Pearla would report the car stolen to the police and then call her insurance company. Subsequently, when the car was found it would be brought to Perez’s shop, and her insurance company would send an adjuster. Once the check was distributed to her for new seats, the stereo, tires, and everything else, Perez would put back the original equipment, and they’ll all get a cut of the insurance claim. It was a no-brainer hustle.

  Pearla was hyped and ready to execute it. She wanted to know how much the claim could be worth, and they estimated at least twelve to seventeen thousand dollars. She agreed to give Perez half the take, and she and Cash were going to split the remaining half.

  ***

  Cash pulled up on the block in a Dodge Charger. It was black-on-black with black rims and tinted windows. The minute he stepped out of the car, all eyes were on him. It was a sunny day, and he was looking good and feeling good.

  His relationship with Pearla felt solid, but his eyes still wandered, and he gawked at every pretty female that passed by him. He was staying with Pearla at her place. With her moms working nights, it made it easier for him to spend the night and sex it up with his boo, talk, and lay his head.

  While he fucked Pearla every night, he still thirsted for new pussy. On occasion, he would receive blowjobs from pretty females in the front seat of stolen cars or in the back of some club. He felt getting his dick sucked wasn’t cheating on his newfound boo.

  Looking pristine in his designer jeans, chain swinging, fresh Nikes, his waves spinning in his hair, he stepped toward his peoples and talked it up for a minute. He was ready to cop some kush and a few drinks and go somewhere to roll up and chill for the day.

  Nosh, the local dealer in the hood, subtly slipped a dime bag into Cash’s hand as he passed him a folded ten-dollar bill. Nosh had some of the best weed in the city, and Cash only liked dealing with him. The loud Nosh supplied got him high as a kite and horny. When he smoked weed from Nosh, he and Pearla fucked for hours, and it was some of the best sex he’d ever had.

  “A nigga need to get high right now, Nosh. Nigga is stressed and shit.”.

  “You know I always got you, my nigga,” Nosh replied.

  “Shit, I need to substitute the grand theft auto business for the weed business,” Cash joked.

  “As long as you don’t step on a nigga’s toes.”

  They shared a quick laugh.

  Cash was ready to get back into his car and leave. He had what he’d come for. As he walked toward the Charger, a young teen came running around the corner in haste.

  “Yo, Cash! Yo, Cash!” the young man frantically called out to him.

  Cash spun around. It was Lil’ Con. He was fourteen years old and always looked up to Cash and his crew. The look on Lil’ Con’s face said to Cash something was urgent or wrong.

  “Yo, what’s good, Con?” Cash asked coolly.

  “Yo, they jumpin’ on ya fuckin’ pops at the liquor store!”

  “What?” Cash said, not believing what he’d just heard.

  “Ray-Ray, they fuckin’ him up!”

  Cash didn’t need to hear any more. He took off running in his pops’ direction. Lil’ Con was following right behind him. He rushed toward the liquor store, which was four blocks away, in a full sprint and got there in a heartbeat.

  He turned the corner and saw three goons attacking his father, who was on the ground, curled up in the fetal position, and howling out as his attackers kicked and stomped on him. No one attempted to help Ray-Ray or break up the commotion.

  Running full steam, Cash instantly went into berserk mode, kicking one of the goons in his back so hard, he went flying forward and crashed against the concrete.

  “Get the fuck off my pops!” he yelled.

  The goon he kicked quickly regrouped. Cash was ready for war. He and the goon both threw their hands up, ready to box, exchanging hard stares and foul words.

  “Nigga, I’m gonna fuck you up!” the slim goon with cornrows shouted.

  Quickly, they went to blows like men, swinging and hitting each other. Cash quickly got the better of him, pulling on his T-shirt and hitting him with a staggering right hand to his face then a left to his right temple. Blood spewed from the man’s nose.

  Cash continued to fuck him up like he’d stolen something.

  It didn’t take long for the goon’s friends to jump in. One came at Cash from behind, slamming his fist into the back of Cash’s head, causing him to stumble. The third came at Cash swinging a bottle.

  Cash maneuvered out of harm’s way and backpedaled away from him. His hands still up, he glared at all four attackers ready to jump on him. He wasn’t going out like no sucker.

  He growled through his clenched teeth, “Y’all niggas jumping an old man—that’s some bitch shit, fo’ real! Fuck wit’ me, niggas!”

  Cash wasn’t about to wait around to become a victim. He went charging at them like a lunatic. Blow by blow, he took them all on. An intense brawl ensued. They attacked Cash, hit him everywhere, and tried to bring him down, but he was determined not to fall and be conquered.

  Lil’ Con wasn’t about to just look on as they jumped Cash. He quickly picked up an empty beer bottle from the curb, charged toward the commotion, and smashed the bottle across the head of one of the men.

  “Aaaaah!” he cried out from the attack, blood covering his face.

  Lil’ Con shouted, “Get the fuck off Cash!”

  Suddenly one of the Marcy goons opened fire.

  Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!

  Panic ensued, and everyone quickly scattered for safety.

  Cash wasn’t so lucky. A bullet grazed his leg, and he dropped to the ground, “Ah fuck! I’m shot!” he cried out in pain.

  Shots continued ringing out. Bak! Bak! Bak! Bak!

  Cash saw his pops on the ground, and his eyes widened like a bug.

  ***

  The shower cascaded down on Pearla’s naked flesh like a tropical waterfall. It had been a hot day, and she needed a long, cooling shower. Lingering in the shower for nearly twenty minutes, she didn’t hear her cell phone going off nonstop in the other room.

  Thinking about Cash, she played with her clit gently, wishing he was in the shower with her. She yearned for his touch soon. She wanted to nestle in his arms and go to sleep. She had so many high hopes for them. She couldn’t see herself being with any other man but him.

  She stepped out the shower and quickly toweled off. She could hear her mother moving around in the apartment. Music was playing, which meant her mother either had company over or he was soon to arrive.

  Pearla didn’t want to be anywhere around Poochie. She had two options: lock herself in her bedroom and wait for Cash; or leave for the night. She knotted the towel around her and hurried into her bedroom.

  The minute she walked into her bedroom, her cell phone started to ring again. Pearla picked it up from off the bed and looked to see who was calling. It was Jamie.

  “Hey,” Pearla answered, pep in her voice.

  “Damn, girl! I’ve been tryin’ to call you for over an hour.”

  “I was in the shower, cooling off and thinking.”

  “Pearla, Cash’s been shot. He’s dead.”

  “What?” Pearla screamed out.

  “He got into a shootout in Brownsville—him and his father were shot.”

  Pearla couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It couldn’t be true. She didn’t want to believe it. Pearla was hysterical. The tears poured out from her eyes, she screamed out, and then collapsed on her knees, dropping the cell phone from her hands. She was feeling like she was about to have a panic attack.

  Poochie came rushing into her daughter’s bedroom with a heavy frown. “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you
, Pearla? Did you muthafuckin’ lose ya gotdamn mind, bitch? Yellin’ in here like someone was trying fuckin’ murder you!”

  “They shot him, Mama,” she cried out.

  “Shot who?”

  “Cash. My boyfriend. They killed him.”

  Poochie continued to look at her daughter like she had lost her mind. “It’s what fuckin’ happens when ya a fuckin’ criminal.”

  Pearla shot a murderous stare at her mother.

  “I don’t muthafuckin’ feel sorry for the nigga. He had it fuckin’ coming, being a fuckin’ criminal.” Poochie pivoted toward the doorway and walked out the room. “He was cute, though. I’ll give you that.”

  Pearla was in a stage of meltdown. Her tears continued to fall. The pain she felt consumed her like a winter cold. Her cell phone rang again. She was hesitant to answer it, her mind ravaged by misery and bad news. She ignored it.

  Seconds later, it rang again. This time it was Roark calling. She figured her friend was calling to tell her the bad news.

  She picked up, quickly saying into the phone, “I already heard.”

  “Pearla, I’ll go wit’ you to the hospital to go visit him.”

  Pearla was baffled. “What?”

  “I know you heard that Cash was shot.”

  “I know. Why did they kill him?”

  “What are you talkin’ about, Pearla? He’s still alive.”

  “What?”

  “I heard he was only shot in the leg. Who told you he was dead?”

  “Jamie.”

  Roark sighed. “You know she always get shit twisted. Don’t be listening to her.”

  Pearla didn’t know what to believe anymore, but Roark brought her some hope and relief. As Roark continued talking and explaining, Pearla’s tears stopped, and she rose to her feet.

  More calls came in to Pearla’s cell phone confirming the same news—Cash was still alive. He’d suffered a gunshot wound to his right leg.

  Pearla hurried to get dressed and see him at Kings County Hospital, where he was being treated. It was the only time she regretted having her car stolen to get the insurance money. She had to take a cab to the hospital.