by Askari
Sonny burst out laughing. “Nigga, stop fraudin’. You don’t know them bitches.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sheed challenged. “Watch this.”
The camera spun around and captured Sheed’s face with a big ol’ Kool-Aid smile. Apparently, he was the one shooting the footage. He laughed, and then returned the lens to the two white girls.
“My fuckin’ boy.” Sonny snapped, and then gave his man some dap. “Yo, fuck a party. I’m try’na slide up in these Temple bitches. Where they at?"
Sheed laughed. “Yo, chill, nigga. Damn! I got you as soon as I’m finished wit’ ‘em.”
“Awww, that’s fucked up, Blood. You always was a stingy ass nigga when it came to some pussy.”
“And you know this maaaannnn.” Sheed shot back, imitating Smokey from the movie, Friday.
When they reached the club on Margaret and Orthodox, the strip looked like a car show. Niggas was hopping out of Benzes, Beemers, Range Rovers, and one nigga even hopped out of a Maserati. Basically, hustlers from all over the city were out to pay homage to one of Frankford’s finest. For the past month, the majority of them were either copping their work from Sonny and Sheed, or copping from the niggas who copped from them.
As they parked and approached the club’s entrance, Sonny called Diamondz to let him know they were outside. A minute later, he came out to meet them. “Sonny, what it do, my nigga?”
“Ain’t shit, dawg. But, yo, this my homie, Sheed. Sheed, this my mans, Diamondz.” The two of them shook hands and then together, they entered the club.
When they reached the second floor, the dance floor was jam packed with bitches and niggas wildin’ out to Chris Brown’s new hit Look at Me Now.
“Yo, this that shit,” Sheed said, while nodding his head to the music. “But dig, though, the Ciroc and the Spades is on me tonight. I’ma be right back.” He left Sonny and Diamondz at the entrance and headed toward the bar.
“Yo, Dia, where you went, dawg?” Shiz slurred. He was obviously high and drunk.
“I stepped outside to get my nigga, Sonny. He’s the one I’ve been tellin’ you about.”
“What’s poppin’, fam? I heard a lot about you.” Sonny shook his hand.
“Hey, no doubt. I just did a pound in the feds, but the kid is back and I’ma definitely be gettin’ wit’ you. But excuse me, fam.” He grabbed the arm of a thick, brown skinned girl. “I’m ‘bout to slide up in some pussy real quick.”
Sonny laughed, and then looked at Diamondz. “Yo, ya mans feelin’ hisself right now. That’s what’s up, though. My lil’ cousin about to come home too, and I know that nigga gonna be showin’ his ass.”
“No doubt, but yo, let me introduce you to a few of my niggas.”
“Naw, fam, I ain’t try’na meet nobody on no hustlin’ shit. If niggas is try’na grab, have ‘em holla at you, and then you holla at me.”
“A’ight, but still.” Diamondz shrugged his shoulders. “These my niggas. It’s only right that I let ‘em know you in the building.”
“More or less.”
While heading toward the V.I.P. area, the deejay started mixing, and Young Jeezy’s Go Crazy exploded from the speakers.
When they play the new Jeez, all the dope boys go craaazy/ Now watch the dope boys go craaazy...
The club went wild and hundreds, fifties, and twenties were tossed in the air. Gold bottles of champagne were raised up high and clouds of weed smoke hovered above the dance floor.
As they approached the roped off area, Sheed approached them from behind. He was accompanied by two scantily clad Spanish women and was carrying a case of Ace of Spades.
“Yo, they ain’t have no Ciroc, so I got us a case of Spades.” He handed both of them a bottle, and then gestured toward the curvy Latina in the red Prada dress. “This is Maria” he introduced her, then turned his attention to the other woman who was wearing a black sheer dress that exposed her perky titties and black G string. “And this, Michelle. I met ‘em at the bar, and they rollin’ wit’ us tonight.”
“More or less.” Sonny approved, already choosing the woman in the see through dress. “What’s good, mommy? They call me Sonny,” he introduced himself, and then rested his hand on her firm ass. “Where you in ya girl from?”
“We from Camden, poppy.” Michelle answered in a thick Spanish accent.
“Damn, where mines at?” Diamondz joked, while staring at Michelle like he wanted to eat her pussy in front of the entire club.
Sonny laughed. “We Block Boys, my nigga. You ain’t know?” He looked at Sheed. “Yo, take ‘em out to the car, and I’ma be there in a minute. I need to holla at Diamondz real quick.”
“More or less,” Sheed said, and then turned his attention to Diamondz. “Yo, it was nice meetin’ you, fam. Hopefully, we can do this again, but right now niggas got business to tend to, feel me?” He shook Diamondz’s hand, and then led the two women outside to his Benz.
Again, the deejay switched songs, and Tyga’s Rack City erupted from the sound system.
Rack City, bitch/ Rack Rack City, bitch/ Ten tens, ten twenties, and a fifty bitch.
The beat was thumping. It was so hypnotizing that one chick even got down on all fours and started popping her ass until her white Coogie dress flipped up and exposed her neatly trimmed pussy.
“But like I was sayin’, Dia, I know you got ya team and all dat, and I know niggas is try’na get down, but I don’t fuck wit’ niggas I don't know. So, if them niggas is try’na grab, just have ‘em holla at you, and then you holla at me.” He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s as simple as that.”
“Fuck it, my nigga. I can dig it.” Diamondz replied, and then shook his hand.
“A’ight, then I’m outta here.”
As he was leaving the club, he noticed a light skinned dude at the bar staring at him. They locked eyes for a brief moment, and then the man turned his attention to the bartender.
*****
When they arrived at the Clarion Hotel in Center City, they rented two rooms that were connected to one another. Sonny’s room was 708 and Sheed’s was 709. Each room came equipped with a bedroom, a Jacuzzi, a living room, a mini bar, and a small kitchen.
When Sonny and Michelle entered their room, he passed her a pack of Backwoods and a sandwich bag of Sour Diesel.
“Yo, roll this up.” He removed his Champion hoody and threw it on the couch.
He then picked up the remote control to the 50 inch plasma and pressed the on button. After flipping through the channels and not finding anything to watch, he turned it off. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two flute glasses for the bottle of Ace of Spades he brought from the club. He then looked at Michelle, who was sitting on the couch rolling them a spliff.
“You good, mommy?”
She smiled at him. “I’m good, poppy. What’s up wit’ ju, though?”
“Awww man, I’m feelin’ that lil’ dress you wearin’.”
“Umm hum. It’s not de dress ju feelin’, it’s what’s underneath it.” She replied in a suggestive tone, and then licked her juicy lips.
Sonny smiled at her, and then nodded his head. “More or less.” He walked over to the couch, removed his .357 from his waist, then sat down beside her and laid the gun on his lap.
“Here,” she handed him the neatly rolled cigar. He put it to his lips and sparked it up. Without taking a puff, he handed the wrapped leaf back to her. “Here, you smoke. I’ma go in the bedroom and turn on the Jacuzzi.”
She took a deep pull and enjoyed the taste of the exotic smoke. After exhaling, she reached inside of her Birkin bag and pulled out two blue pills.
“Ju do Molly?”
“Nizzaw. You go ahead and rock out, though.” He got up from the couch with the .357 in his left hand and disappeared into the bedroom.
As he turned on the Jacuzzi, he could hear Maria moaning in the room next door. He heard footsteps behind him and turned around to see Michelle standing in the doorway with the bottle of Spades in her right hand. The
Backwood dangled from her lips as she walked toward him. She sat the bottle of Spades on the edge of the Jacuzzi, and then began to undress. As soon as her dress hit the floor, she pressed her body against his and then began kissing on his neck. She patted him on the ass.
“Take ju clothes off, poppy.” She then climbed in the Jacuzzi, and let the jet bubbles massage her body.
As he removed his clothes, she played with her pussy and admired his physic and dick size.
“Damn, poppy, why ju still holdin’ ju gun?”
“Don’t take it personal.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just a firm believer in the word security.” He grabbed his fully erect dick and moved closer to the Jacuzzi. “Yo, handle that for me.”
Without any hesitation whatsoever, she leaned forward and began sucking his dick like Superhead in the flesh. As he enjoyed the feeling of her warm mouth, he laid the gun on the ledge, and then picked up the bottle of Spades. After popping the top with the corkscrew on his keychain, he raised the gold bottle to his mouth and took a gigantic swig. Goddamn! This lil’ bitch is suckin’ the shit out my dick! He thought to himself as he gripped the back of her head with his right hand. He took another swig from the bottle, and then poured the bubbly liquid over her head as she continued sucking him off without missing a beat.
“Ummmmm,” she moaned and made slurping noises.
She took a deep breath, and then swallowed his dick until his balls were resting on her bottom lip.
“A’ight mommy, that’s enough.” He tapped out, and then took a couple of steps backwards.
She looked at him and laughed. “Damn, poppy, I thought ju could hang?”
“Oh, I can hang a’ight.” He shot back, while climbing inside of the Jacuzzi.
He reached over the ledge and grabbed a Magnum Trojan from his pants pocket. After sliding the rubber down the length of his shaft, he positioned his body behind her body, and then slipped inside of her hot, wet pussy.
“Ummmmm shit.” He groaned as he gripped her ass and started stroking. He started slow, then picked up his pace.
“Ay, poppy! Aaaaayyyy!” she cried out, loving the feel of his dick.
While throwing his back into every stroke, he growled, “Say Big B’s poppin’!”
“Aaaaayyyy! Big B’s! Big B’s poppin’! Ay!”
“Say Soowoo!”
“Ay, poppy! Aaaaayyyy!”
“That ain’t what the fuck I said! I said say Soowoo!” He snapped, and then pumped her pussy even harder.
“Aaaaayyyy! Soowoo! Soowoo! Soowooooo!”
Chapter Eight
The Following Morning...
After sending Michelle and Maria back to Camden in a taxi and leaving the Clarion Hotel, Sonny and Sheed drove back to the hood. When they pulled up on the corner of Reese and Susquehanna, they sat in the car and smoked a Backwood.
After exhaling a thick cloud of smoke and flicking the ash off the tip of the cigar, Sonny looked at Sheed, “Yo, this nigga Tommy is playin’ games Blood. Niggas been callin’ his ass, and he ain’t even callin’ niggas back. That nigga better get on his mutha’fuckin’ job.”
“I’m sayin’, though, you think he try’na burn the big homie?” Sheed asked, knowing deep in his heart that Tommy had already committed an irrevocable act of treason.
“I don’t know, scrap. I just don’t understand why he talkin’ this outta town shit all of sudden. On top of that, this nigga ain’t answerin’ his fuckin’ phone. I’m tellin’ you, scrap,” Sonny shook his head slowly, “somethin’ ain’t right.”
Sheed took a pull on the Backwood, and then exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Well, I know one thing,” he flicked the ashes in the ashtray, “it’s only a matter of time before Mook starts to lose his patience, and you know what that means.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sonny responded in a disappointed tone. Him, Tommy, and Sheed had been best friends since the fifth grade, and the thought of Tommy betraying them left a bad feeling in his stomach.
Sheed sighed, “A’ight, my nigga, I gotta go take care of somethin’, but I’ma link up wit’ you later on tonight.”
“More or less,” Sonny responded, and then saluted him with their Blood handshake.
Sonny got out of the car and walked over to his Benz. He climbed inside, and then pulled his iPhone from his hoody pocket. After scrolling through the contact list, he stopped on Nahfisah’s number. Although she was Tommy’s baby’s mom, the two of them had been close friends since they were seven years old, and they playfully considered themselves brother and sister. He pressed the call button, but after a few rings, her phone went to voice mail.
“Fisah, what’s up, boo? Where you at? How’s my goddaughter? I ain’t heard from y’all in a couple of weeks, and I’m a lil’ worried. Get at me as soon as you get this message. I love you, sis.”
He tossed the phone on the passenger’s seat, and then laid his head against the headrest. He took a deep breath, and then thought about the fateful night that brought the two of them together.
Feburary 1, 1996
It was a week after his family moved back into their Reese Street row home, and it was the night of his seventh birthday. Despite the fact that his parents didn’t have the money to provide him with the lavish birthday parties he’d grown accustomed to, he was more than happy to have the fresh pair of Air Jordans he received from his mother. He was lying in his bed, sound asleep, until he heard his bedroom door creak open and could feel the energy of someone else in the room. He lifted his head from the pillow and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He sat up in his bed and was disturbed by the sight of Easy ransacking his closet.
“Yo, pops, whatchu doin’ in there?”
Easy spun around, realizing he was caught red handed. “Huh?”
“I said, whatchu doin’ in my closet?”
Easy was sweating profusely and his eyes appeared as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. His bottom jaw was sporadically moving from side to side, and the stink of malt liquor was seeping through his pores.
“Don’t worry about it, Sontino. Go back to sleep,” he slurred.
“Naw, I ain’t goin’ back to sleep. I wanna know whatchu doin’ in my closet?"
Easy ignored his last statement and continued rummaging through his son’s belongings. When he found what he was looking for, he turned to leave but Sonny’s shouting stopped him in his tracks.
“Mom, he’s stealin’ my new Jordans!”
Easy bolted through the door only to find Annie at the top of the steps with a curling iron in her right hand. “Ervin, you better put those goddamn sneakers back!”
The crack head side of him told him to shoot past her and run down the steps, but the gangsta side of him told him to stand his ground.
“Nah, Annie, fuck that! These mutha’fuckas cost too much. I’m taking ‘em back to the store.” He attempted to walk past her and down the steps, but she grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him backwards.
“Nah, mutha’fucka, you ain’t leavin’ wit’ them sneakers!” she shouted, and then cracked him upside the head with the curling iron.
Whack!
Easy growled like a caged animal. He balled up his fist and struck her in the face with a right hook. The blow knocked her unconscious.
“Pussy, I’ma kill you!” Sonny shouted, and then charged him with a barrage of haymakers.
He desperately tried to bring the drama, but his seven year old punches were no match for a grown man. Easy gripped his face and mugged him backwards. His little body tumbled over his mother, and he banged his head against the wall.
Thump!
As he lay on the hallway floor trying to shake away the dizziness, Easy ran down the stairs and shot out the front door. Sonny hopped up and ran down the steps behind him. After grabbing a butcher's knife from the kitchen, he darted out the front door, looking to kill his father.
An hour later, after vigorously searching the neighborhood with the butcher’s knife concealed in his pajama
s' pants, he ended up at the playground on 8th and Diamond, leaned against the fence and crying his eyes out.
“Hey, you! Boy across the street!”
He quickly wiped away his tears, and then looked in the direction of the voice. A couple of houses down from the poppy store on the corner, a little light skinned girl was standing in her doorway. She was dressed in a long white Tshirt, and a pink scarf was wrapped around her head.
“Yeah, you,” the little girl confirmed. Her voice was full of concern. “Aren’t you the new boy at my school?”
“Yeah,” Sonny answered in a shaky voice.
“Well, I was layin’ in my bed, and I heard you out here cryin’. Are you okay?” She asked in a softer tone.
“Yeah.” He lowered his head. “I’m a’ight.”
The little girl walked across the street and entered the caged basketball court. She walked up and stood directly in front of him. There was something strangely familiar about her, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “You don’t look a’ight.” She pointed at his left hand. “You’re bleeding.”
He looked at his hand and spotted a gash between his thumb and index finger. She grabbed his hand and examined it closely.
“Eeeewwww, that’s a nasty cut.” She scrunched up her face and released his hand. “Come on.” She turned around and began walking toward the opening in the fence. “Follow me to my house, so I can clean your hand and get you a BandAid.”
“Naw, I’m good,” he quickly replied. “What I look like going over ya house? I don’t even know you.”
The little girl stopped walking and spun around to face him. She placed her hand on her boney hip and snapped her neck in sistagirlstyle.
“Boy, you better stop playin’ wit’ me. My name is Nahfisah Thompson, and your name is Sontino Moreno. I know that’s your name ‘cause like I said, you’re the new boy at my school. All the girls at my school know your name. So there, now we know each other.” She grabbed him by his wounded hand and led him inside of her row house. Unknowingly, this was the beginning of their life long bond.
