Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose

Home > Other > Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose > Page 15
Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose Page 15

by Floyd, Justin Amen


  CHAPTER 20

  “What the fuck are we gonna do Ant!?” Meka yelled at her brother.

  “Huh? What you talkin’ ‘bout Meka?” Ant said, leaning up against his dresser nonchalantly.

  “What I’m talkin’ ‘bout? What the fuck I’m talkin’ ‘bout!?” she asked incredulously. “Niggas want us dead Ant. Me and mama out on bail. They got Mike jammed up for two bodies. On top of all that yo’ face was just all over the news nigga! You’re one of Greenville’s Most Wanted!” Meka said heatedly.

  “Meka, shit ain’t that serious. You trippin’ right now,” Ant said indifferently.

  “Not that serious!? Trippin’? Ant, what the fuck is wrong with you? Did you not just see that video they got of you running through the mall… with a gun?” she asked her brother. They had just played the footage on the news not too long ago. Meka was .38 hot, but Glo was in the living room so she was trying her best to keep her voice down. “How long you think you gonna be able to stay on these streets befo’ somebody call crime stoppers on yo’ black ass? Muthafuckas so grimy they’d turn they mama in to get that reward money!”

  It was New Year’s Day. Ant D and Meka were in Ant’s room at their mama’s house in Bellmeade. The blinds were closed and the shades drawn. The bright January sun still managed to cast a dim glimmer of light inside the room that early afternoon as the siblings and lovers talked. Shit was beyond hectic in the streets right now and Meka was trying to figure out what to do next.

  “Ant, we gotta go somewhere and chill for a minute. At least till shit cool down. We got to.”

  “Naw…”

  “Naw? What do you mean naw Ant?”

  “Just what I said. I ain’t going nowhere! I been had warrants Meka. That shit ain’t new to me. I know how to move out this bitch. And I stay strapped,” he said lifting up his shirt, revealing the semi-automatic pistol in his waistband. “So if they do come for a nigga they better be ready to hold court right there in them streets. ‘Cause shiiit, one thangs for sure and two thangs for certain. I ain’t Mike. I damn sure ain’t finna let them crackers trap me off in they system!” For Ant to even let a comment like that come out of his mouth about their best friend told Meka a lot. He was obviously still putting that shit up his nose. She looked at him and shook her head.

  Seeing the look on his sister’s face, Ant attempted to put her mind at ease. “Trust me, the way them M.B.M. niggas is popping up dead, they ain’t even stressin’ us right now. You remember Slim from Fieldcrest right?”

  “Sand brother? Yeah. What about him?”

  “Shit, I heard one of them Mexicans ran up on that nigga at the Civic Center last night and blew his fuckin’ head off. Slim was a cool ass nigga too. He had a lotta love in these streets. So you know shit finna get real stupid behind that. Before him, them wetbacks had ran up on J.R. and Mario. Trust me, we the last thing on them niggas minds right now,” Ant said laughing.

  $$$

  Gloria had been staying at the Hilton since the shootout that had taken place back in early December. It was almost a month later. She’d become tired of being cooped up at the Hotel. So when Meka told her she was stopping by the house to see Ant, she jumped at the opportunity to accompany her daughter. Glo needed to pick up a few things from the house, but more importantly she wanted to see how Ant was doing. She hadn’t seen her son in weeks.

  Now, she was sitting comfortably on the leather couch in the living room with her feet kicked up. Glo was snacking on some pickled pig feet while she watched TV The New Year’s Day parades were the only things on the local major networks. She grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels before landing on the Gorgeous Harrison Show.

  Gorgeous Harrison was a light skinned black woman originally from Greenville. Her name fit her well. She was a gorgeous full figured woman, and classy. More than just a pretty face, she was also extremely intelligent and ambitious. With the help of her husband, she had recently launched her own show on MYTV 40. She often had religious leaders, local politicians and occasionally a celebrity on to discuss issues affecting the black community.

  The topic of discussion today was the recent crime wave plaguing Greenville. There had been a recent string of murders that had left several young black and Mexican men dead. Authorities were calling it a gang war, but one of the guests on the panel had a different view. “For the Mayor’s office and the Sherriff’s Department to release a statement to the media that these murders are the result of gang violence is extremely premature, irresponsible and prejudiced,” said Ralph Flemming, head of the local chapter of the N.A.A.C.P.

  “Now, I am far from naïve. Do gangs exist in Greenville? Absolutely. As they do all over the country. The problem I have is this: By calling this a gang war, they’re in essence, implying that all blacks and Mexicans are gang members. They’re acting as if this type of behavior should be expected and accepted in our communities! Read between the lines people! The fact that these young men were somebody’s son, brother and loved one is completely forgotten once terms like gang war or drug related are loosely thrown around. And what are the socio-economic conditions…”

  As usual, Flemming made some good points but Glo was skeptical about his motives. Flemming was from Nicholtown, a predominately black neighborhood in Greenville. But like so many so called black leaders he was never around unless a camera was. People in the hood were suffering and a lot of folks felt like he was exploiting their pain to advance his own political career.

  Gloria got up and walked into the kitchen in her socked feet. The windows had been replaced, but there were still bullet holes in the walls. They were a harsh reminder of the violence that had erupted last month. She opened the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of Grape Kool-Aid. Those pickled pig feet had made her thirsty. She grimaced as she tasted the Kool-Aid. As usual, Ant had used half a bag of sugar to sweeten it. “How many times I gotta tell that boy about using all this sugar?” Diabetes ran in their family and Glo wasn’t trying to get it. She diluted the extra sugary sweet beverage with some cold water from the faucet.

  As she quenched her thirst she wondered what her children were up to. She hadn’t heard from them in over an hour. They were usually blasting their music, arguing or cracking jokes on one another. It was unusual for them to be home and for the house to be this quiet.

  Glo padded down the carpeted hallway to Ant’s closed door. She still had the rest of the Kool-Aid in her hand. She put her hand on the doorknob and listened for a second. She heard muffled noises. Glo turned the knob and opened the door.

  “What y’all do —” Gloria’s words died in her throat. Her eyes got as big as quarters as she stood in her son’s doorway. She didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. Her son had his shirt off and his pants around his ankles. Her daughter had her sweater dress up around her waist and was bent over the dresser being aggressively penetrated from the back… by her son.

  Their eyes were closed. They were so caught up in their incestuous act of lust that they hadn’t even noticed their mother standing right there in the doorway watching them. Her heart dropped. So did the glass of Kool-Aid as she put her hand to her chest and staggered back into the hallway. Meka heard the thud and quickly opened her eyes. For a split second, mother and daughter’s eyes locked. Meka saw the hurt. “Mama!” she yelled out, still bent over the dresser with her legs spread wide. Ant stopped mid stroke and opened his eyes as well only to witness the look of shock and pain on his mother’s face.

  Gloria shook her head back and forth. “No, no, no, no, no…” she kept whispering to herself. Tears began to stream out the corners of her saddened eyes and down her brown cheeks. Meka pushed Ant back off of her and immediately pulled her dress down. Ant bent down and snatched his jeans up around his waist.

  “Mama…” Meka was at a loss for words as she watched the tears silently stream down the face of the woman who had given her life. The more she looked at Gloria, the more she saw how much they resembled one another. What was s
he supposed to say to her mother who had just seen her getting fucked from behind by her own twin brother? “Mama…”

  Glo turned and ran down the hallway back into the living room, sobbing. Meka ran behind her. Holding onto his baggy jeans, Ant followed them. “Mama… It’s not what it look like,” Meka finally managed to say.

  Glo spun around on her heels and faced her daughter. “Not what it looks like!?” she exclaimed hysterically. “Are you tryna say that I didn’t just see you bent over like… like… like some little slut, getting fucked by your own brother? Huh!? Is that what you’re saying? ‘Cause I’m old but I’m damn sure not blind yet. And I ain’t stupid either. I know what I just saw Tameka,” Glo managed to get out in between sobs.

  Despite the tears, Meka knew her mother had to be extremely heated for her to be cursing like that. And it was the only time she ever used their whole names. Meka searched for the right words and tried to explain. “I mean… it’s not what you thinkin’ mama. It’s more than just sex with me and Ant.”

  “More than just sex? Tameka what the hell is you talkin’ about; that’s your brother! It’s not supposed to be no sex between you two,” Glo screamed into her daughter’s face.

  “I know that mama, but…”

  “But what Tameka? What?”

  “We love each other mama! That’s what,” Meka said defensively. “It’s not just sex, we actually love each other,” she pleaded, hoping her mother would understand.

  Glo wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at her daughter as if she was a complete stranger. She was silent for a moment. “So… How long have you two been sneaking around… fucking?” Gloria asked maliciously. “When did it start?” She looked back and forth from Ant to Meka, expectantly. Neither said anything. The only sound in the living room was the commercial playing on the T.V.

  “You really wanna know when it started mama?” Meka asked quietly as she returned her mother’s stare. “It started the minute you gave us up to run the streets. It started the moment yo’ junky ass chose that fucking hard over your own goddamn kids. It started the same night you was out fucking and sucking on some nigga dick just to get yo’ ass another blast. That’s when it started mama… that’s when.”

  Gloria chuckled sarcastically and shook her head. “How did I know you’d blame me? Well I’m sorry you turned out to be such a whore Tameka.”

  “Well you know what they say: the apple don’t fall too far from the tree,” Meka retorted.

  Without thinking, Glo reached back and smacked the shit out of her daughter. It was the first time she’d ever struck one of her children and she had tried to take her head off. Instinctively, Meka began swinging wildly on Gloria. Mother or not, she wasn’t letting anybody put their hands on her. “You fucking bitch!” Meka screamed as she continued swinging like a mad woman. Glo tried to fight back at first, but she was quickly overwhelmed and folded up on the floor.

  Ant D finally stopped just standing there. He grabbed Meka from behind and wrapped her up in his arms so she couldn’t keep swinging. He lifted her off the ground and pulled her away from Gloria, kicking and screaming. “Chill out Meka, chill,” Ant yelled into his sister’s ear as she struggled wildly to break free. She was going crazy. It was all he could do to hold her back.

  “Let me go Ant! Let… me… go,” Meka yelled, still struggling to get free.

  “Naw Meka. Calm yo ass down,” he said, restraining her.

  Once it finally sunk into her head that Ant wasn’t letting her go, Meka quit fighting. She went limp in her brother’s muscular arms and started crying. Her chest was heaving from the physical exertion. “You don’t know what it was like for us growing up. All the shit we had to go through. Always feeling like nobody loved us, like nobody wanted us,” she said to Gloria. “When we needed you the most, you wasn’t there. We was all we had,” Meka told her mother tearfully.

  Gloria was on the floor in tears as well. “I’m sorry Meka. I’m so sorry baby. I wish I would’ve been there for y’all. If I could go back in time and do it all over again, I would. Lord knows I would. But I can’t, baby. I can’t,” she said sobbing into her hands.

  CHAPTER 21

  After making a donation of $25,000 to Bob White’s re-election campaign, a group of Mexican small business owners asked for a personal meeting with the Mayor. It was still early in the year, but Mayor White saw this as a perfect opportunity to gain a few Latino votes for the upcoming election in November. He didn’t particularly care for spics any more than he did for niggers, but a vote was a vote. And with this gang war getting out of control, he needed to show that he was willing to listen to their concerns. Not that he intended to do anything about them.

  The Mayor invited the men to his office along with all of the major local news channels. He had the check blown up like they did for lottery winners. Mayor White was extremely shrewd when it came to taking advantage of any positive press. He was totally at home in front of the cameras. As usual, he was his jovial and charming self. He came across as one of the ‘good ol’ boys’ while being attentive and responding sternly to serious questions when necessary. Like most good politicians, Bob White was a chameleon.

  As the photo op was wrapping up, Mayor White smiled and vigorously shook the hands of each man as he thanked them for their generous contribution. Individual pictures were taken as well as a group photo with Mayor White in the center holding the mock check with a huge smile on his pale face. After the group photo was done and the cameras were off, The Mayor had the Mexican businessmen unceremoniously escorted out of his office by members of his staff. He spoke briefly with a few members of the media he knew personally. He joked and slapped a couple of them on the back heartily as they made their way out of his office as well.

  Once the door to his office was closed, Bob White went and sat down heavily in the plush leather chair behind his large Mahogany desk. He sighed. Being a politician was hard work. All of that fake smiling and hand shaking. Speaking of the latter, he hurriedly grabbed the hand sanitizer out of his desk drawer. He applied a liberal amount to his hands as he thought about his flesh touching all of those taco eating spics. Who knew what type of germs they were carrying.

  He was getting ready to pick up the phone and tell his secretary Sarah to order lunch, when he noticed the manila envelope on his desk. He picked it up and noticed that it was sealed and had his name on the front of it. Mayor White kept his desk immaculate, so he was positive it hadn’t been there earlier. How the hell did this get here? He wondered. Curious about its contents he opened it. He carefully removed the single disc from the envelope along with a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He stared at it. What the hell is this? Mayor White got up and walked over to the DVD player that was hooked up to the 42” flat screen television that hung from the wall. He grabbed the remote and pressed play.

  The images that came across the screen made Bob White’s heart begin to pound. He staggered backwards and grabbed his chest in shock, thinking he was on the verge of a heart attack. He looked around guiltily as if someone else was in the room with him. Mayor Bob White was transfixed by the images of himself on the screen engaging in the most depraved sexual acts with a variety of adolescent Mexican girls.

  Beads of nervous sweat began to drip down his forehead as he continued watching the screen. He couldn’t believe this shit. Somebody had been taping him! If this got out, not only would his political career be over, but so would his life. Somebody was trying to blackmail him? Nobody blackmailed Bob White and got away with it. His face turned crimson with anger as he ejected the disc. He walked over to his desk and punched a button. “Sarah, get Tom Fields in here… NOW!” he barked into the intercom.

  Moments later Mayor White’s top aid Tom Fields was in his office. “Tom, we’ve got a problem…”

  $$$

  An hour later, in a busy eatery downtown, Tom Fields sat nervously at a table and waited. The instructions he’d been given over the phone had been to be at this place at this time.
The waiters had been expecting him and had sat him at a table in the rear of the establishment. Tom had been given a menu, but his appetite was non-existent. He simply sipped on the glass of ice water and continued to wait.

  Tom noticed a Mexican approaching his table. The man was dressed immaculately and carried himself with an air of quiet confidence. Dinero sat down across from Tom and smiled. “Hello Tom. Nice to meet you,” he said in his cool voice. There was a hint of an accent as he spoke.

  “How do you know my name?” Tom inquired, fidgeting nervously with the utensils in front of him.

  “Thomas Fields. 37 years old. You graduated from Clemson. Two sons, one daughter and a wife named Elizabeth.” The look of complete and utter shock on Tom’s face made Dinero smile. It quickly faded from his face as he got down to business. “Look. Let’s just say I do my research and leave it at that, alright? You’re here because the Mayor got a little package that I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want released to the public, right?”

 

‹ Prev