Money & Love Don't Mix

by Ace Gucciano

  “Yes tell him to call or come by, and ask to speak to me Mr. Johnson. We need him to start as soon as possible. Let him know we have two positions available for him to choose from, one is ova’night stock we start off at twelve and hour, and da’ otha is in our meat department makin fourteen.”

  “Alright I’ll relay the message, and make sure he calls you as soon as he gets home.” She replied then they both hang up, as she took a seat at the edge of her bed shedding tears.

  $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

  Two days later was the last day the pool was gonna be open for the summer so it was packed with females of all races. White black, black and Latinos, Dominicans, and a few Ethiopian chicks. A couple folks had their grills heating up, numerous bottles of different alcohol were on display, for and who choose to have a drink whenever he or she pleased. And the whole hood knew where to find da’ good popcorn mid, from Smoke, Maniac, and Dre. Hell that wasn’t a secret…

  The three of them were at a table playing spades in the tournament. Smoke and Dre were partners, while Maniac played with a half Black and Latino chick named Yenni. Maniac and Yenni was one hand away from winning the game, until Juvenile ‘Back That Ass Up’ came blasting through the sound system that they had set-up, Yenni hollered.

  “Oh! Dat’s my shit!”

  As she jumped out her seat and started shaking her ass. Maniac, Smoke and Dre sat their hands down and gave Yenni their undivided attention. Her three friends who were in the pool playing volleyball saw her and started making their way towards her. One of them snapped hollering.

  “Girl erry’time yo’ ass get to drinking, you start showin' out fo’ niggaz. Sit yo’ ass down somewhere!”

  She paid her friend no attention and continued to dance as Maniac got behind her, and she backed her ass up on him. He downed the shot of Ciroc he was holding and whispered in her ear.

  “What’s up wit you baby girl?”

  “Ummmm…ready to go so we can get to know each other a lil’ betta,” she whispered while lookin' back at him seductively.

  “Well dat’s what’s up. I’m feelin’ dat.” He responded wit his heart beating fast and butterflies in his stomach.

  “Well let’s grab us a few mo’ drinks and head ova’ to my crib, where I can finish backing my azz up on you at,” she suggested.

  “A’ight gimme a minute so I can holla at my homies and let em’ know what time it is!” he whispered in her ear steady grinding and gripping on her ass.

  “Okay bae!”

  He turned around and walked back over to Smoke and Dre who were gettin’ to know the other two ladies.

  “Aye lemme holla at y’all boys fo’ a minute cuz!” He hollered over the loud music that was playing. Once they came over to him he told them.

  “Aye, I’mma get up wit y’all boys a lil’ later, I’m boutta go see wat shawty talkin’ bout right quick!”

  “Nigga you lucky!” Dre uttered, “She da’ finest one outta all of em’, and I know she can suck a mean one wit dem big ass lips she got.”

  “I’m damn sho’ bout to find out. I’mma holla at y’all!” They all gave Maniac some dap, and he went in the other direction. He then turned around and yelled “Where y’all boys gone be at later on?” Smoke replied cutting his eyes over at the two chicks to let him know hopefully doing the same thing he was about to go do. “Prolly on da’ block. I hear all these niggaz keep talkin’ bout goin’ to da’ block to shoot so dat might be da’ move.”

  Twenty minutes later Maniac and Yenni were on their eighth shot of Patron and she was on her knees in front of him giving him head so good he was ready to get straight to it. He reached to pull down her bikini with his eyes closed enjoying every minute of pleasure she was serving him with, but once she grabbed his hand to stop him, he opened his eyes and to his surprise was a desert eagle with and infrared beam standing directly in front of him.

  “Don’t move, Punta.” The Hispanic who stood before him ordered as he reached over, grabbed him by his neck and yanked him to the floor, and slapped him with the handle of the desert eagle.

  “Please don’t kill me, migo!” he mumbled from the floor as he held his busted lip.

  “Oh so it’s please don’t kill me now, huh, amigo? When you was robbing my brother it was all good. We’re the cartel, we-don’t-play-no-games-Punta!” The Hispanic reared back and slapped him again with the desert eagle, while Yenni kept close aim on him with her carbon-15.

  “I don’t know what you talkin' bout, you got me confused,” Maniac nervously pleaded for his life.

  “So, you don’t know what I’m talking bout motherfucker?” He said standing over Maniac with his pistol pointed in his face, as he looked scared for his life. “You shot my brother and tried to kill em’ ese, so now, I’m gonna make you feel his pain holmes.”

  He glanced over at Yenni, who stood there holding a carbon-15 ready for whatever, while Maniac began to panic and shout for help. She retrieved a roll of duct tape off her dresser and started taping his hands, at first he tried to resist her attempt to tie him up, but the moment the infrared beam from the desert eagle landed right in the middle of his forehead slightly blinding him he stopped, and she continued taping his ankles, and then his forehead covering his eyes.

  “You robbed the wrong one this time ese!” he told him before kicking him in the face causing his nose to bleed. She then went to her closet, grabbed the iron, then went to the bathroom, and plugged it in to heat up while she ran some bath water. Ten minutes later when the water reached a high level, he dragged Maniac by his neck to the bathroom, lifted him up and dropped him into the water, took a step back while Yenni dropped the hot iron in the tub, killing Maniac on the spot.

  “Good job!” he looked down and told her, and just before she got started giving him head, she looked up, winked her eye with a smirk saying.

  “Anything for you, Papi!”

  $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

  A guy from the block they call Big-Easy was fading another cat named Boogie Down on a thousand dollar bet. While Smoke, Dre, and a few more cats waited for their turn to shoot. Boogie Down shot the dice and they landed on six and four.

  “Oh! Ten my favorite point. Bet fifty mo’ nigga!” Boogie Down commanded.

  “Nigga we gotta thousand dollar pot, and you only wanna bet fifty mo’!? Bet a hunnard nigga, and a hunnard mo’ erry’shot…Or dat’s too much fo’ you?” Big-Easy arrogantly demanded as Smoke, Dre and everyone else observed them, paying close attention.

  “Awe nigga Umma show yo’ ass bout tryna show out, da’ hunnard mo’ a bet. You ain’t said nuthin’,” Boogie Down replied. “Dis boutta be da’ quickest ten y’all eva’ seen!” Boogie Down blurted out before shaking the dice, and throwing them against the curve. Everyone on the side watching had their eyes glued to the dice, as one Dice stopped on five and the other four. “Damn!!’ Boogie Down said to himself as him and Big-Easy both dropped a hundred more before he shot again.

  “Thought ten was yo’ favorite point, nigga bet a hunnard mo’!” Big Easy told him, dropping his money on the ground.

  “I tell you what, whoever don’t like my point put down! Umma get all y’all money!” Bogie down demanded.

  “I got a hunnard right here!” Smoke shouted out as he dropped two fifty dollar bills on the ground. Boogie Down saw him put down, and tossed a big face over by him saying.

  “It’s a bet! But you shoulda rode wit me Smoke, I hate to win yo’ money my nigga!”

  Then he shook the dice and threw them again, this time he hit, with a six and four. A lot of noise and commotion was going on from the few that stood around spectating, but none of them paid attention to the smoke grey Astro van that crept along, sliding the door open until two Hispanic guys jumped out, followed by another who aimed a AR-15 on everyone while the other two snatched Dre and Smoke into the van, and left the hood so fast nobody had a chance to help.

  Truth was the whole hood had ties with the Hispanics in some way or another, from the small time corner hu
stlas to the big timers who sold weight, plus they were all aware of the notorious reputation that they had for killing anybody who got in the way of their cash flow. Sometimes they’d go in the crib and not even lock the door behind them, and could even sleep with one eye open cause anybody who had enough nerve to try them had to be out of their mind or suicidal. Either way they were itching to handle the situation the best way they knew how.

  “So…You refuse to answer Punta!?” He blurted as he lost his temper and struck Smoke in the face with the barrel of the AR-15, leaving a gash above his left eye. Ten minutes later they arrived at one of the Hispanics many duck off spots, on the northside of Atlanta. That side of town was better known as Lil’ Mexico. It earned that title by the large amount of Hispanics that resided in the area. Smoke and Dre walked without saying a word as the four Hispanics escorted them inside and down to the basement; they kept calm and remained quiet on their way down. When they made it down and flicked on the lights, one guy pushed Dre with all his might and he fell on the floor, as the other knocked Smoke in the back with the AR-15 causing him to go down instantly. Holding the back of his head. Smoke and Dre began to panic the moment they saw the same guy who pushed Dre on the floor, start sharpening a machete while their arms and legs were being hogg tied. Once they were done getting hogg tied, the guy holding the AR-15 came over to them, bent down, chuckling as he said.

  “Ey, amigo! You know what that is my homeboy over there doing don’t you!?” he asked pointing over at the guy sharpening the machete, without giving them a chance to reply he said, “He’s preparing to feed you motherfuckers to our Alligators in the back yard limb by limb if you bitches don’t tell us who da’ fuck sent you to rob us!”

  The scare tactic they were using was an attempt to frighten Smoke and Dre so bad that they’d tell them everything they wanted to hear about whoever it was that sent them to rob them. He wanted to use both of them by setting them up and killing all of them in the end, but with Smoke and Dre not saying anything it was gonna be harder that he thought.

  Chapter 9

  Ms. Jones started becoming more and more agitated everyday that passed from the doctor initially telling her she couldn’t see her son, plus the phone call she received from Mr. Johnson at Kroger telling her to inform Trouble that he had been hired didn’t make her feel any better. It made her feel worse. So she decided to drive down to Grady and demand to see him. When she arrived, she noticed the same receptionist at the front desk from the first attempt she made to see him. The receptionist was on the phone, but the moment the woman looked up and recognized Ms. Jones she smiled, as she nodded her head in the direction of the elevator. Ms. Jones smiled in return and kept walking until she made it to the elevator.

  Five minutes later she made it to his room and told the officer standing closest to her “Hey go check with them Doctors and see if I can see my son, before I start raising hell acting real ghetto in—”

  “Aye, Aye, Aye! Ma’am we’re not having all that up in here! Now, another outburst like that I’m gonna have to escort you out of here! This a hospital, so if you would please control yourself and I’ll go get the doctor.”

  She tried to wait as patiently as she could while he went to get the doctor, but it was almost impossible. Mainly because she felt like everything that happened, was the outcome of her having too much pressure on him to get a job the day she knocked the controller out his hand and made him get off his ass and go look for one. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since, so until she got the chance to see him and address the situation it continued to fuck with her more and more. Despite the fact that he remained in a coma and was in trouble with the law, again, she still wanted to talk to her beloved son, because she believed if she did he’d hear her.

  Oce the doctor approached Ms. Jones, he shook her hand saying, “Hey how you doing ma’am…Last night after we ran a few more test, we thought it’ll be alright if he receive visits. Everythi—”

  Before he could finish she hurried into the room. She walked over to him and grabbed his hand and began to cry as she watched him lay there helpless.

  “Son, I’m so sorry I treated you the way I did when I told you to get out and go find you somewhere to work. But I was only trying to keep motivated and on the right path…You know it may seem like you’re going through a lot these days, or feeling defeated, wondering how you’re going to cope with all of this but I know somehow you’ll make your way through it. Even if you find that hard to believe right now just remember I know you, I know your strength and determination son. So I know that you are able to pull through this. And I’ll be here with an open mind for you to lean on…no matter what happens son, I’m here to remind you, you’re gonna be okay!” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him. “Fight for your life son…Fight! Trust me everything is gonna be alright!” she whispered wiping her tears away, “ Lord please, give my baby the strength!”

  She grabbed both of his hands, squeezing them tightly and moments later she felt him squeezing her hand back, completely shocked when she saw his eyes come open because witnessing him snap out of his coma had seemed so surreal to her. But before she has a chance to say anything the doctor, along with two nurses came storming into the room, followed by the two officers that stood outside his room. She stood there not able to do anything but shake her head as she thought to herself, here we go with this shit again! As the officers quickly uncuffed him from the bed and cuffed both hands together telling him.

  “Daunté Jones, you’re under arrest for armed robbery, felony eluding the police, grand theft auto, aggravated assault, possession of a firearm by a convicted felon, possession of cocaine and a hundred and fifty thousand in cash…You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney to represent you. If you cannot afford an attorney, the court with appoint one to you.”

  After hearing the long list of charges Ms Jone fell to her knees, heart broken and started realizing he was about to leave her all by herself, again.

  $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

  Three hour later the doctors cleared Trouble to leave the hospital, and thirty minutes afterward he arrived at Clayton County’s interrogation building with the two officers. They escorted him upstairs and placed him in a room to be interrogated. Shortly after, the door came open and a 6’4 black guy dressed in a black suit and tie drinking a cup of coffee came walking in. He took a seat at the table directly in front of Trouble. He looked at Trouble with a mean mug the whole time in an attempt to intimidate him. They both remained speechless until he fired up a cigarette, blew out the smoke in Trouble’s face and told him.

  “Listen up Daunté, I’m Detective Sims, and I have a long list of charges on you that I know you committed with a group of friends but I’m willing to work a deal with you…If you tell me their names, where to find them, and how everything went down the day you got into that high-speed chase, I can see to it that your charges get thrown out.” he paused to hit his cigarette again, and take a sip of his coffee and said.

  “But I need to know step-by-step how everything went down, so I can help you!”

  “Fuck I look like tellin’ on a muhfucka first of all, and second, you ain’t gone help me wit shit. I ain’t no fuckin’ snitch…matter fact gone and take me over to da’ jail.” Trouble demanded, but Detective Sims wasn’t trying to hear him. He took on last drag of his cigarette, then put it out as he blew smoke in Trouble’s face again telling him.

  “Naw…I’m not gonna let you throw your life away like that, now I’ma give you awhile to think about everything you have to lose by trying to look out for some niggaz that don’t give a shit about you.” Detective Sims got up from the table and was on his way out the door, then turned around and said, “Think about what you doing Daunté, think about who you're hurting…In case you didn’t know that mother of yours, she loves you dearly! She came to the hospital every chance she got to see yo’ black ass, and made sure you were
okay. Now, imagine what kinda pain you’ll be putting her through. Mama’sonly son gone—again! But this time you might not be making it back!” He then shut the door, leaving Trouble all by his lonesome.

  When Detective Sims left the room, Trouble began to think about Maniac, Smoke and Dre’s whereabouts. He knew they didn’t get arrested cause the Detective was pressuring him to snitch on them. Then he thought to himself, Dem niggaz had to get away wit da’ shit we got dem migos fo. But the thought exited his mind as fast as it entered when he reflected back on all the charges the officer told him he was charged with the moment he came out of the coma.

  “Mann, what da fuck!” he yelled out as he slammed his hand on the table thinking, Why da’ fuck I ain’t keep tryna find me a job I started to. He then put his head down on the table as Detective Sims words kept playing over and over in his head—“Mama’s only son gone—again! But this time you might not be making it back! Now Imagine what kinda pain you’ll be putting her through.” As he remained at the table with his head down and his mind racing a hundred miles an hour, Detective Sims who was outside the door the whole time watching him and his body language through the door’s tinted window came back in the room. Feeling as if Trouble was in a vulnerable enough state of mind or him to trick him into telling him all he needed to know about what happened. He patted Trouble on his back telling him.

  “It’s gone be alright Daunté, I promise!” before taking his seat saying, “But you gotta let me know what’s going on so we can get this mess worked out, and you can get on home to that woman who loves you.”

  Trouble raised his head from the table with a mean mug from not taking kindly to the watered down game Detective Sims tried to run on him, saying.

  “Da hell I look like, Frank Lucas nigga?! I ain’t no fuckin’ snitch…Shit, you wanna know wat happened call crime stoppers or some shit, but you can take me on to intake I ain’t got shit fo’ ya’.”

  Detective Simms was pissed with the fact that Trouble wouldn’t break and snitch on his friends as he was hoping he would to make his job a lot easier, because of that he snatched him out his seat aggressively and rushed him out of interrogation room to escort him to jail.