Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose

by Floyd, Justin Amen

  Elle was a good girl so she knew better than to associate with the likes. So did Twyla. They had been raised in the church by devout Christian parents. Their mother played the piano and directed the choir they were brought up singing in.

  Twyla sighed again. Elle had grown up too fast. It seemed like just yesterday she was running behind her threatening to tell that she was sneaking out of the house. Twyla had been kind of fast when she was younger. She had a baby at sixteen and grew up quick.

  When they got to Penn Station, Twyla thought about forbidding Elle to go again. In actuality, she could pull rank if she wanted to. She was older, and had always had the leverage of their parents’ permission to discipline Elle when she got out of line. Twyla could be a bitch when she wanted to, but she held her tongue.

  Elle kissed her on the cheek and grabbed her bags. Twyla ignored the little voice in her head and prayed she wasn’t making a mistake. Elle promised her she’d be careful, and stuck the paperback she’d been reading in the side of her tote. She hopped out and hurried inside Penn Station. Twyla whispered another prayer for her safety and pulled off.

  Elle already had her ticket so she headed straight for her train. On her way, she saw two cops ahead of her. Her heart rate tripled at first. They didn’t seem to be paying her any mind so she kept on going. Elle had her hair pulled back in a bun and she was wearing black spectacles. In the blazer and high heels she donned she looked like a young college woman.

  She boarded the train just in time. In the process she almost tripped over the foot of a handsome, long legged passenger. He sat up and apologized like a gentleman. Their eyes locked for a moment. Elle just blushed and kept it moving. The brother had nice sideburns and a memorable face.

  After she settled in a seat, she relaxed and thought about her boo, Knight. At 21, he was six years older than she was. He was intelligent, handsome, and hardcore. The combination of those elements was the sexiest thing she had ever encountered. She was completely gone over him.

  One of the things she loved about him the most was the way he was always encouraging her to get an education. He said he wanted her to become a lawyer so she could defend him if he ever got into trouble. Elle took that as his way of saying he was in it for the long run. She was young at the time so she figured it didn’t get any better. He was thorough and he had money and brains. And she knew he was authentic because she had seen him at work. She thought back to an incident that happened when she was just twelve years old.

  One lovely day in late spring, Elle was sitting out in front of her house talking to her friend Monifah. They were just coming from downtown Brooklyn, where they had gone to purchase the new Polo sandals everyone was raving about that season. The girls were feeling themselves and discussing what outfits they would wear to school the following day.

  A shiny, brand new, black Mercedes turned the corner of their block thumping loud music. The visibly expensive car was trimmed in gold; its hood ornament, door handles, rims and all. The driver of the black and gold Benz slowed down and stopped across the street in front of Monifah’s building.

  This dude named Malcolm, better known as Rude, lived in that building too. Rude was a young hustler on the come up. The driver of the Benz was clearly an acquaintance of his because he came downstairs to have a word with him. Rude was dressed in an Italian smoker’s jacket over a pair of designer jeans and expensive slippers. He had a cigar in his mouth, and looked like a real mafia gangster.

  He and the driver, a Puerto Rican dude named Tito, exchanged daps and smiled at one another. Jovially shaking hands, they appeared to be comrades to the naked eye. As Elle and Monifah watched the young men conversing, they whispered to each other about the rumors they had heard. Monifah knew a lot of stuff because her family lived right next door to Rude’s. She said she could even hear his telephone conversations through the walls sometimes.

  Just then, these two cute guys turned the corner and started walking down the block towards them. Elle recognized one of them. He was a guy who went to school with her older sister Etta. He winked at Elle when they passed them, indicating that he recognized her. She grinned from ear to ear, overwhelmed at the notion of an older guy noticing her. She was only twelve, and he had to be like seventeen. That made Elle’s day. It even topped getting those Polo sandals. He was so cute! And he and his friend were wearing these big gold chains just like the ones rappers sported in their videos. Elle was awestruck. Her underage curiosity peaked.

  Monifah had seen that wink he gave Elle so they giggled together about it. Then they noticed the guys stopped about four houses down from them. They appeared to be engrossed in a conversation with one another. Elle was naïve and under the impression that they had stopped because they were contemplating coming back to talk to them. She got nervous because her father was across the street inside their family business, which was a supper club. If her father saw her talking to a boy that age, Elle knew she would get in trouble.

  Meanwhile, Rude was still across the street talking to Tito with the Benz, who had stepped out of his car to speak with him. Laughing like old buddies, the young men said goodbye to each other and parted ways. Rude headed back inside his building and Tito opened his car door to get in.

  Before he could get inside the car, the two rope chain wearing cuties crossed the street and approached him. The three of them exchanged a few words. Elle and Monifah stared on, under the impression that they were all cronies as well. They had to be because Tito smiled when he saw them. Suddenly, the men appeared to be scuffling. The next thing the girls knew, shots rang out.

  The neighborhood had recently become a drug warzone, so crime was at its peak. There had been lots of random shootings lately. It seemed like they had to run from gunshots every other day, so they already knew the protocol. Elle and Monifah saw Tito fall to the ground, and quickly dipped inside her hallway. They slammed the door closed and ran up the stairs.

  They ran up to Elle’s third floor bedroom and peeked out the window. The big chain wearing cuties were gone and Tito was sprawled on the ground bleeding in the street. They had robbed him and shot him!

  The girls heard sirens, and then it seemed like everybody on the block was outside. Elle’s father, Elliot, was one of the first people out there. He was joined by lots of their neighbors. Seconds later, the ambulance got there, followed by a fleet of police cars.

  Elle saw her sister Twyla’s boyfriend at the time, Bilal, pull up out there in his Audi. He shook his head and looked real sad when he learned what had happened. Puerto Rican Tito was a good dude who happened to be a friend of his. Tito was good-natured and cool with everybody.

  Bilal was in the money taking game. He was in the streets heavy so he knew what was up. Elle later learned from Twyla that Bilal told her Rude had set Tito up. He had called him over so they could conduct a business exchange, and then he called his friends and told them when he was coming. They had pretty much taken it from there.

  Sadly, Tito later succumbed to his injuries. There were two detectives on the case who were disturbed by the violence and determined to make an arrest. They went from house to house knocking on doors trying to get someone to talk. The day they came over Elle’s house, no one was at home but her and her older sister Etta. They were good girls who were somewhat sheltered since they had grown up in the church. So not knowing any better, they let them in.

  The detectives told Elle and Etta the truth. They were looking for the men that killed George “Tito” Ruiz. They had three thick books full of mug shots of young men; mostly Black. They patiently thumbed through the pages with the girls and tried to get them to finger someone involved. Etta wasn’t there when it happened but Elle knew exactly who the killers were.

  She and Etta looked through the pictures, more amused than anything. It was exciting to them. Elle saw one of the guys’ mug shots and Etta recognized a few of her classmates and some other boys her age from the neighborhood, but neither of them told the detectives anything.

  T
he detectives left but they came back again another day and went through the same process. Still, the girls told them nothing. The detectives knew Elle was outside that day so they were convinced she could help them.

  They returned a third time with more books full of mug shots. That time their father, Elliot, was at home. When the cops showed up at their door he went downstairs and started screaming on them, purposely making a huge public display. He yelled at the police so all the neighbors could hear. He told them to get the hell away from his damn door and quit bothering his children. He lied and said he sent the girls down south, and warned them to never come back to his house again.

  Elle stood at the top of the stairs listening, and was pretty confused. Her father was a church going man who she knew believed murder was wrong. He had drilled the Ten Commandments in her and her sisters’ heads when they were small. So why had he chased off the police with all those lies? She hadn’t planned on telling them anything anyway. For some reason she was just fascinated by thumbing through those mug shots. She had gotten a little peek at crime, and her young eyes were excited by its premise.

  When their father came back upstairs, she asked him why he had chased the police off like that. Elliot looked at his inquisitive bright-eyed little girl who he was so proud of. Elle was a smart girl, and always asked questions. She was a Virgo like him, and had a lot of his ways. That day he was forced to tell her how things worked in the streets. He told her that even though killing was bad, a person living in their neighborhood couldn’t tell the police about the things they witnessed because the people you told on knew where you and your family lived, and would more often than not come back and retaliate. He said he ran off the police because he wanted to keep her and the rest of their family safe and out of harm’s way.

  They had a neighbor, an African lady name Mazelle, who had been talking to the police too. The day before, her apartment door was shot up by some thugs. She got the message and shut her mouth after that. She also started looking for a new place. Elliot reminded Elle that he was a businessman and homeowner, and said he wasn’t prepared to pick up his family and relocate. He told her he also didn’t want to get into a street war with any of those knucklehead little drug dealers. He said he would kill one of those crazy ass young boys if he had to, so it was best they just mind their business. He had seen most of those punks grow up, and knew lots of their parents. Elle told her father she understood, and promised him she would never talk to the police again.

  Elliot was saddened by the reality of the situation but proud of her for understanding nonetheless. He hugged her and told her he loved her. That was Elle’s first lesson on the street code. Talking to the police could get your whole family killed.

  Three years later, she was walking home from the train station after a day at high school when she spotted him just feet ahead of her. It was the guy with the big gold chain who’d winked at her when she was twelve; just minutes before he’d crossed the street and murdered a man in cold blood. Her plan was to walk pass him nonchalantly but their eyes locked momentarily. Elle tried not to blush. He gave her an interested look and beckoned her over.

  She approached him with her around-the-way-girl coolness, which was natural for a Brooklyn girl like her. He grinned, revealing the cutest dimples she had ever seen. His hair was freshly cut in a fade with a part on the side, and he wore a denim Polo jacket over a Polo sweater, jeans, and 40 Below Timberlands. He was the epitome of the “it” guy at the time.

  He introduced himself as Knight, and told her he liked her hairstyle. He said it looked cute on her. Elle blushed and thanked him. She told him her sister had done it.

  Knight scratched his chin. “I know you, shorty. You Etta and Twyla lil’ sister, right?”

  Elle placed her hand on her hip and got sassy with him. “I’m their sister, but I ain’t little. In case you haven’t noticed.”

  He gave her a surprised look. “Oh, word? You a big girl, huh?”

  She gave him the flirty eyes. “Yes, I am. And my name is Elle.”

  “So what that “L” stand for?”

  Elle smiled because she got that all the time. “Not the letter “L”, the word. Elle, like the fashion magazine.” She spelled it for him. “E-l-l-e.”

  He nodded his head. “Elle.”

  “That’s what I said, boo.”

  He grinned. “I like that.”

  “Yeah? You like saying my name?”

  He fought back a smile. “Yeah.”

  “So say it again,” she dared.

  She had his hardcore ass smiling after that. “Elle.”

  She grinned back at him, and then they both laughed together. She was easygoing, and he liked that. She was just as easy on the eyes. He thought about pressing her for the digits, but opted to give her his pager number instead.

  Knight was from the projects around the corner from Elle’s house, Lafayette Gardens, also known as L.G. The reason she hadn’t seen him around lately was because he had been incarcerated for a few years. They chatted briefly and then agreed to keep in touch. When Elle walked away she switched her ass extra hard to impress him.

  It worked. He called her back as soon as she paged him that evening. Her mother wasn’t home so he stopped by. Her parents had split up a few years ago, so her dad now lived around the corner. They just talked outside in front of her house for a little while. After that, Knight told her to go upstairs and make sure her homework was done. She didn’t know what to think after that. He was treating her like a little kid.

  They continued like that for about three weeks. Then he started coming inside. Almost every night, whenever he was in town. Her mother worked second shift and didn’t get home until after midnight, and Elle’s older sisters were hardly ever home. Knight won her little brother, Junior, over by always giving him money, so nobody told on her.

  Elle thought they were evolving into something but Knight was treating her more like a little sister than a girl he wanted to get with. And on top of that, she was hearing things in the street about him dealing with this Puerto Rican girl named Michelle, who went to school with Twyla. She was older but Elle figured she could love him better.

  One day she got fed up and decided to approach the issue. She paged Knight and told him she needed to talk to him. He told her he had to take care of something but he would see her later.

  For the next two hours, Elle practiced exactly what she would say to him. But when he came through she forgot all that hot shit. Instead, she approached him with child-like honesty. She told him how much she liked him, and said she didn’t understand why he acted like he didn’t like her back. She asked him why he was always talking about homework and shit.

  He laughed, and told her he liked her too. He said she was his little girlfriend but he was waiting until she was legal. He earnestly said he was the wrong type of guy for her, and wanted her to focus on finishing school. Elle told him she could do two things at once. She could be his girl and go to school too.

  He laughed and asked her if she was sure she was ready for that. She looked at him like she was. She was pretty bold for a fifteen-year-old. He smacked her on the butt and sent her back upstairs.

  Elle asked him for a hug before he left. He held her close and kissed her lips gently. After that, she was on fire. She wanted to give it to that nigga bad as hell. Contrary to what he seemed to believe, she wasn’t a virgin. She had been with two guys before, but she was smart enough to use protection.

  Two days later, it was Friday. That night Knight picked her up in his BMW and they went on their first date. He took her to this seafood restaurant called Sizzler. Elle was elated. Afterwards, they got a hotel room. That night they made love for the first time. She couldn’t just say they had sex because it was really beautiful. He kissed her from head to toe, and nibbled her in places she had never imagined. Elle had already experienced having her pussy eaten by boyfriend number two, but no one had ever made her feel the way Knight did. He loved her like a grown ass man. She w
as open.

  Elle stayed out with him all night, and then she went home the next morning floating on cloud nine. She told her sisters and her homegirls that she and Knight were now an item.

  Her new relationship had a few of her friends looking real sour faced. Knight was a well-known baller so they were sick. The envy was evident because every time he came around one of those tramps would start flirting with him. Elle didn’t like it at all but she just looked at it as friendly competition. She had him already so they could kick rocks.

  She started getting so attached to Knight all she wanted to do was ride for him. But he kept her in her lane as much as he could. He stressed that she maintain good grades and stay in school. A few times she overheard him talking to other girls on the phone, but he always told her it was business related. Elle hated the fact that he dealt with other bitches that he said handled certain business for him. She quietly resented this because she didn’t want to nag.