by Askari
“Have you ever heard of the RICO law? The dectective questioned sarcastically, laughing. Awwww man, you’re fucked. Well, not completely fucked. I’ve got a proposition for you. Now, either you can accept it,” he shrugged his shoulders, “or you can spend the next fifteen years in a federal penitentiary getting fucked in the ass by a gang of California Crips. The choice is yours, Tommy. What’s it gonna be?”
“What kind of proposition is you talking ‘bout?”
“A proposition called Michael Brooks. I want that sonofabitch nailed to a friggin’ cross.”
Begrudgingly, Tommy accepted Detective Smith’s proposition, and for the past three months, he’d been helping him build a case against Mook.
When he entered The Oak Lane Diner, he spotted the detective sitting in a booth, eating a plate of barbecued ribs, potato salad, and green beans. He approached him, and took a seat on the other side of the table. Detective Smith wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin, and then gulped down a glass of Pepsi.
“Alright, now what’s this shit about Brooks fronting you two keys?”
*****
Later that day, at police headquarters, Detective Smith was sitting at desk, drinking a cup of coffee, and going over his file on Mook.
Knock! Knock!
He looked up from his file and turned his attention to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Detective Sullivan.”
“Come in,” he said, and then laid the file on his desktop.
Detective Sullivan entered the office with a goofy look on his face. “I just received your Email. What’s the news on the Brooks’ case?” He asked, while taking a seat by the door.
“I think we’ve hit the jackpot, Sully.” Detective Smith smiled at him. “I met with my informant. According to him, Brooks fronted him a kilogram of cocaine, and guess what else?” He held up a brown paper bag. “I’ve got it right here.”
“That’s excellent, Smitty. Now that we’ve got our evidence, all we’ve gotta do is get a judge to sign off on an arrest warrant.”
“It’s not that simple, Sully. At this point, our case isn’t exactly airtight.”
“What do you mean it isn’t airtight? That piece of shit just gave our informant a key of coke. We’ve got it right here.” He pointed at the bag. “All we’ve gotta do is present our case to a judge, and he'll have no other choice but to issue an arrest warrant,” Detective Sullivan propounded.
“I’m sorry to say it, Sully, but it’s not that simple. We don’t have any jurisdiction over that particular transaction. According to the informant, Brooks gave him the cocaine in the State of Delaware. Therefore, no judge in his right mind is gonna sign off on a warrant for a crime that was committed outside of his jurisdiction.”
Detective Sullivan rubbed his forehead, exuding frustration. “Alright, well, what’s the next step?”
“I told the informant to lay low for about a month, and then we’ll give him the buy money to pay Brooks. All he has to do is get Brooks to come back to the city to collect his money and bring him an additional kilo. If he does,” Detective Smith smiled and rubbed his hands together, "we’re gonna tar and feather his ass!”
“Now that, Smitty, is one hell of a plan. I’ve got one question, though. Why are you still holding on to the cocaine? Shouldn’t it be tagged and processed into the evidence room?”
“Sure it’s gonna get tagged and processed.” However, Detective Smith thought to himself, the other key that you don't know about is getting tagged and processed into my retirement fund!
Chapter Four
In Crestmont, Riana was sitting on her mother’s front porch staring at the results from her home pregnancy test.
Damn, I can’t believe I’m knocked up. Sontino gon' have to slow his ass down ‘cause I ain’t raising no baby by my lonesome. Fuck that! she thought to herself. She loved the shit out of Sonny, but the way he was living had her afraid. Either he gon' slow his ass down and leave these streets alone, or I’m getting an abortion. It’s as simple as that!
While she was caught up in her thoughts, a snow white Mercedes Benz SL 550 pulled up in front of her house and just sat there with the engine running.
Who the fuck is that? she asked herself, while admiring the hottest car she’d ever seen. Whoever it is, why they stop in front of my house, and why are they just sittin’ there wit’ the engine running? Ahn ahn, this shit don’t seem right. I’m takin’ my black ass in the house.
As she stood to her feet and reached for the doorknob, a familiar voice said, “Damn, beautiful, where you going?"
She spun around just as the tinted driver’s side window retracted into the door. “Sontino? Boy, whatchu doin’ in that car?”
Sonny didn’t respond. Instead, he opened the driver’s side door and hopped out the Benz in a white linen Gucci set and a pair Gucci soft bottoms. His ears were decorated with five carat diamonds and an iced-out Rolex was wrapped around his left wrist. As Riana approached him, the fragrance of his CK cologne coupled with his GQ appearance made her pussy moist.
“Damn, boo, you lookin’ sexy as shit. Whose car is this?” She asked, giving him a kiss as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“This my new shit. You like it?”
“Hell yeah! This jawn husky as shit.” She broke their embrace, and then gave the car a thorough inspection. “Now, you know I'm gettin' the Tahoe, right?”
"Yeah, you got it. It’s out in Delaware, though. I left it at Mook's house. But dig, mommy, I got somethin’ for you.” He led her to the back of the Benz and popped the trunk. “Those three boxes right there, they for you.”
She looked at the boxes and couldn't decide which one to open first. The box that was bigger than the other two was covered in gray Gucci print, it sparked her interest. However, another one of the boxes was from Jimmy Choo, and the smaller box was from Tiffany’s.
She looked at him and asked, “Which one should I open first?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Open the big one.”
She did as he suggested and was blown away by a white, one piece strapless Gucci dress. “Awwww, Sontino, I love it!” she said as she held it up to her body. “This is so pretty. Thank you.” Next, she opened the shoe box and discovered a pair of white Jimmy Choo shoes with spaghetti straps. “Ahn ahn, Sontino, these ain’t even out yet. They don't come out ‘til the fall.” She kissed him on the lips, and then gave her new pumps a closer examination.
“Yo, that shit ain’t ‘bout nothin’,” he replied in a nonchalant manner, even though he was happy to see his queen with a smile on her face. “But yo, you ain’t even open up the box from Tiffany’s yet.”
When she opened up the rectangular jewelry box, she was momentarily blinded by the white diamonds that smothered a heart shaped pendent and a platinum necklace.
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” She screamed as she hopped up and down. “This is so beautiful, Sontino. Thank you!”
Sonny smiled. “It’s beautiful like you, ma. Now, go in the house and get dressed. We ‘bout to party like rock stars.”
As she carried her gifts into the house, he grabbed the gym bag with the thirty keys from his backseat, and then crept to her bedroom. He opened the footlocker that was at the bottom of her closet, and stashed the work inside. He then went over to her dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer, where unbeknownst to Riana, was $100,000. He counted the ten stacks of money, each containing $10,000, and then put the drawer back in its place.
*****
Later That Night…
The people standing in front of the Plush Nightclub were interrupted by the thumping sounds of Lil Wayne and Cory Gunz’s 6 Foot, 7 Foot, and the sparkling white Benz that pulled up in front of the entrance bumping the sound.
“Damn, who the fuck is that?” A thick, dark skinned girl asked her friend.
“Girl, I don’t even know, but that Benz is doin’ the pussy,” her girlfriend replied. “Okaaayyy!” They both smiled and
gave each other a high five, straight up hood rat style.
Inside of the SL 550, Riana killed the ignition and climbed out looking immaculate. Her new dress was hugging her body as if it were painted on. It lifted the bottom of her ass and stopped mid-thigh, making the spaghetti straps on her Jimmy Choo shoes look ten times hotter. She casually walked around the front of the Benz and opened the passenger's side door for Sonny. When he stepped out of the car, the lights from the club's sign made the diamonds in his ears shine so brightly that the people waiting in line could hardly see his face.
“Oooooh, ain’t that the bul that play for the Eagles?” The dark skinned girl asked her friend.
“Naw, that’s the bul, Sonny, from Reese and Susquehanna," her girlfriend shot back. “Damn, that fine ass nigga done stepped his mutha’fuckin' game up!” She looked at him and waved. “Okay, Sonny. I see you, booboo.”
He smiled at her, and then locked hands with Riana. Together, they walked past the line, around the metal detectors, and headed straight for the V.I.P.
*****
The Following Morning…
Back at the Marriot, in the presidential suite, Riana was sound asleep. She was exhausted from a night of clubbing and receiving the best sex she’d ever had in her twenty-one years of living. That was until Sonny awakened her with the texture of his tongue sliding across her clitoris.
“Uhhhhnnn!” She moaned as he gently licked and sucked on her love button. “I’m ‘bout to cum, daddy!” She moaned out after just a few minutes of his talented swirl action. “Put it in me. I wanna feel you inside of me,” she whined.
He obeyed her command and buried his manhood deep inside of her. After twenty minutes of intense love making, they laid in bed, holding one another. Her head was resting on his muscular chest, and his fingers were running through her silky hair and massaging her scalp. She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes.
“Boo, you know I love you, right?”
“Yo, why would you even ask me somethin’ like that? Of course I know you love me.”
“Alright, well, what I’m about to say is straight from the heart, so don’t take it the wrong way.”
He sat up and rested his back against the padded headboard. “A’ight, I’m listening.”
“Yesterday, while I was getting dressed, I found the gym bag that you put in your footlocker. When I looked inside, and yes I looked inside of it, I saw all of that work. I was like, damn. When is enough gonna be enough? I know you got enough paper put up, so why do you keep fuckin’ wit’ this shit? Why do you insist on gambling wit’ ya life?”
He sighed, “Look, I dig where you comin’ from and all that, but I gotta plan. All I need is a year to do my thing, and I can get my family back to where we used to be. I just need for you to trust me on this, Riri. All I need is one year, and I’m done."
“Boo, I’m not try’na overstep my boundaries or nothin’, but how much paper you got saved up?"
“Naw, you ain’t oversteppin’ ya boundaries because we in this together. You my mu’fuckin’ dawg. What's mines is yours. But to answer ya question, we got a lil’ over $100,000 in the tuck.”
“A $100,000? You mean to tell me that’s not enough for you to walk away from this shit now?”
He shook his head and looked at her like she was crazy. “Yo, $100,000 ain’t shit! I can't hold us down the way I want to wit’ no punk ass $100,000!”
“Sontino, I don’t care about none of this material shit. Especially at the cost of losin’ you. All I need is you, can’t you see that? All we need is you!”
“We? Whatchu mean we?”
She grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach. “I’m pregnant, Sontino. I found out yesterday, and I’m afraid that I’ma end up in this situation by myself.” She laid her head on his lap and began to cry.
“Come on, bae, don’t cry.” He lifted her head and wiped away her tears. “I’ma always be here for you. I promise.” He kissed her on the forehead, and then wrapped his arms around her. “Just give me one more year, and I swear to God, I’m done.”
*****
After sleeping most of the day away, they drove to his house to tell his mom the good news. When they walked through the front door, they were immediately blown away by the smell of lasagna and garlic bread.
“Hey, y’all.” Annie smiled from the kitchen. “I hope y’all are hungry ‘cause I’m in here doin’ the damn thang.”
Sonny and Riana laughed.
“And Riri,” she looked at Riana and placed her hand on her hip. “I hope you ain’t mad at me for diggin’ in that ass the other day, but you know I don’t like nobody callin’ my house early in the mornin’.”
“My bad, Ms. Annie,” Riana replied with an embarrassed smile. “It won’t happen again.”
“Yeah right,” Annie laughed. “Now, I know you don’t expect me to believe that? Sontino got yo' ass floatin’ on cloud nine, and you got to nerve to stand here talking ‘bout you ain’t gon’ be callin’ here at all hours of the night lookin’ for his ass. Shit, I was young once. I know how y’all young girls get.”
Sonny and Riana continued laughing at her.
“Now, come in here and get ya’selves somethin’ to eat. I hope y’all are hungry.”
“Oh, she’s hungry a’ight.” Sonny smiled, and then placed his hand on her stomach. “She’s eatin’ for two.”
“Riri, you’re pregnant?” Annie asked with a voice full of excitement.
“Yeah!” She smiled and nodded her head up and down. “I found out yesterday.”
Annie walked over and gave her a big hug. “Congratulations, y’all!” She kissed Riana on the cheek, and then felt her stomach. “I hope it’s a girl. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ll take whatever God gives us. I’m just prayin’ it’s a girl. Lord knows I’ve always wanted me a daughter.”
*****
An hour later, Sonny and Riana were lying on his bed watching the movie Jason’s Lyric. As Allen Payne and Jada Pinkett were rolling around in the grass butt ass naked, Sonny’s iPhone vibrated on his nightstand.
“Yo,” he answered.
“Sonny, what’s bangin’, Blood? It’s Mook. Where are you at?”
“That Five, you already know. But yo, I’m at the spot right now. What’s up?”
“I holla’d at the ol’ head, Grip, this mornin’ and we havin’ a sit down at the T.G.I.Friday’s on City Line Ave. I need you to roll wit’ me.”
“A’ight, like what time?”
“Around eight o’clock.”
“A’ight, well, where are you at right now?”
“I’m at the house, relaxin’.”
“A’ight, I’m ‘bout to slide through so I can pick up the Tahoe, and I’m bringin’ Riri wit’ me so she can drive it back.”
“A’ight, my nigga, I’ma see y’all when y’all get here. Soowoo!”
“Bang! Bang!”
*****
It was a little after eight o’clock when Sonny and Mook pulled into the parking lot of T.G.I.Fridays. After smoking the remainder of their Kush filled Backwood, they climbed out of the Bentley and casually strolled into the restaurant. They requested a seat in the back corner, and were immediately accommodated. From this position, they had a clear view of the entire dining room, most importantly the restaurant’s entrance.
“Would you gentlemen like anything to drink until you’re ready to place your orders?” Their waitress asked.
“Yeah,” Mook answered. “Lemme get a pina colada.”
“And you, sir.” She turned to Sonny and smiled. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Yeah, lemme get the same thing my mans just ordered, and you can get me some mozzarella sticks, too.”
The waitress wrote down their orders. “Coming right up,” she smiled, and then walked away from the table.
“So, whatchu think?” Sonny asked while cracking his knuckles. “You think this nigga gon' take the offer or what?”
“I ain’t sure, Blood. If he does, th
en everybody gon’ be able to get money in peace, but if he doesn't, then you already know what it’s hittin’ for.”
“Hey, yo, there the nigga go right there.” Sonny nodded his head in the direction of an older light skinned man with slicked back wavy hair and a salt and pepper beard. At 72 years old, with a strict diet and workout regimen, Grip appeared to be closer to his late fifties. He was 6’2" and approximately 165 pounds, and his broad shoulders and chest gave him the look of a retired prize fighter. He was draped in a French vanilla linen suit and a pair of chocolate crocodile boots. A huge diamond ring was sparkling on his right pinky, and a cocky expression was written on his face. As he stood at the entrance with two of his goons directly behind him, he scanned the room until his eyes locked on Sonny and Mook in the far corner. He adjusted his pinky ring, and then headed toward their table with his goons following closely behind.
When he reached the table, Mook gave the old man the respect he deserved. He stood to his feet and embraced him with a firm handshake. He knew that Grip was cut from a legendary cloth, The Black Mafia, and had undeniably paved the way for hustlers such as himself.
Throughout the sixties and seventies, The Black Mafia not only controlled the streets of Philadelphia, they also had a strong influence on other cities such as New York, New Jersey, Chicago, and Detroit. However, when the eighties rolled around, the majority of them were either dead or serving life sentences, and in this day and age there were only a handful of them still on the streets. Grip was one of them. A stone cold gangster. He was as sharp as tack and as vicious as a wolverine. He maintained a stronghold on Philadelphia’s underworld, and he felt that after five decades of putting in work, he’d be damned if he let some young niggas alter the way he made his money.
