by Amir Sanchez
Connie yelled for everyone to take a seat at the dining room table. When Trish and Jihad went to grab a chair, she raised her hand and motioned toward them.
“I’m sorry but this meeting is family only. Y’all can’t be here for this,” Connie stated as she stared coldly at the two standing there with disappointment on their faces. Jihad really didn’t give a fuck because he was going to use the time to go outside, smoke a cigarette, and contact the agents. But, Trish, on the other hand, was pissed. She flew up the steps and slammed the door so hard the house shook.
“That was messed up, Ma. You know Trish is practically family.” Gus tried to stand up for his girl.
“Practically family don’t mean she family,” Connie snapped at her son and made sure to put extra emphasis on the word “family.” “See, that’s the problem with you boys. Y’all running around these streets bringing everybody into the family circle like it ain’t shit. I love Trish and all, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t carry the family name.”
“That’s right,” Consuela agreed with her twin. “When did it become okay to bring any nigga off the street into the family business? You two better shape up and get things under control real quick. Connie and I sacrificed a lot to keep this family on top. Now, y’all niggas is telling me all our hard work and effort is over because, Gus, you decided to make Jihad head of security over Leaf? Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you putting Leaf to a new position is a legit reason for Leaf to say fuck the family, but, Gus, it was a little messed up of you to make a big decision on your own like that. That was something you should have called a family meeting for. Now, I know my son, and I believe the shit with Leaf is deeper than just being taken off of security.”
Gus and Sha’Ron sat in their seats listening to every word being said. They didn’t dare try to speak and interrupt their mothers.
“Consuela and I both chose you, Gus, to lead the family’s business during our absence . . . Not because you’re the oldest, but because you’ve always been a thinker and showed leadership skills since you were a little boy.” Connie looked at her only son. “You’ve done a hell of a job keeping things going while we were locked up, son. You’ve done such a good job that me and your aunt would like to stay behind the scenes and let things continue as they’ve been. Sha’Ron, with your brother being gone for now, I want to see you step it up and stand next to Gus. You need to be his right-hand man. I can only hope that Leaf doesn’t go and do something stupid. We don’t turn our back against our own, but don’t let your guard down, and be ready for anything. I hope to God I’m wrong, but I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that Leaf’s up to no good,” Connie said as she looked at the boys with worry displayed all over her face.
“I hate to say it, but I’ve had the same feeling since last night,” Consuela admitted. “I love my son, but a mother’s heart always senses when something’s not right,” she said as she placed her hand over her chest.
“You really think he’d turn on us, Ma?” Sha’Ron said, now feeling the weight of the conversation.
“I sure hope not,” Consuela replied. She couldn’t imagine having to go against her firstborn son. And if things came down to that, she wasn’t even sure she’d have the heart to do it.
“All right, boys, this meeting is over.” Connie wrapped everything up.
Sha’Ron rushed out of the house. He needed a drink to process everything that was said during the meeting. He couldn’t fathom the idea that his brother would turn his back on them, and he felt the pressure to step his game up and stand next to his cousin. He needed a drink to calm his nerves. He got in his car and drove straight to Freeze’s.
While the meeting had taken place, Jihad used the opportunity to contact Amy and smoke a Newport. He had her number memorized and always erased the record of the phone number to avoid ever being found out by someone. Amy answered on the first ring as if she was expecting him.
“Jihad, where the hell have you been? You should have contacted us. I know about some of the things that are going on, and I understand you did the best you could do under the circumstances, but it’s time for another briefing. Is that possible for tomorrow?” she asked, anxious to meet up with him to get answers and understanding of the situation.
“Listen, do you remember the little bad Spanish agent named Vickie? Have her on standby tomorrow and call my phone around noon. Cool?” asked Jihad as he cautiously looked around to make sure no one was listening. Playing both sides was becoming like a game to him. He was really starting to feel like he was two different people. When he was working with Gus, he was 100 percent dedicated to the cause. And when it was time for him to turn over information, he liked the feeling of being needed in the investigation. Jihad was so deep into his shit that he no longer felt any guilt or confusion. When he was with the Santanas, he was head of security, and when he spoke or met with the feds, he was an informant. It was almost as if Jihad had developed multiple personality disorder.
“Twelve o’clock. Be safe and keep your ears open,” replied Amy.
Jihad finished his cigarette, then headed back inside where he ran into Connie, pouring herself a drink from the dining room bar.
“Where’d everybody go?” he asked her.
“Beats me. Meeting finished and everybody spread out like wildfire.” Connie shrugged her shoulders. She looked him up and down and continued to stare at him as if she were trying to read his mind. He returned the look and smiled before going into the living room, where he surfed through the thousands of channels that were installed via satellite. When Connie came into the living room, she sat next to him and snatched the remote control and began changing channels. Jihad just continued to smirk, thinking to himself how crazy she was. He found it amusing.
“What . . . You find something funny, nigga? I don’t like your sneaky-looking ass, so just sit there and act like I ain’t even here,” said Connie as she sipped her drink and put on her favorite Spike Lee movie, She Hate Me. Jihad got up and poured himself a drink as well. When he returned back, Connie was stretched out across the entire sofa, clearly stating that she didn’t want him sitting with her. He shook his head, and then walked over to the La-Z-Boy where he adjusted it to his comfort. A few minutes into the movie, Consuela came out of the kitchen and announced she was leaving. Connie encouraged her to keep trying to get a hold of Leaf and talk some sense into him.
Upstairs, Gus was trying to comfort Trish. Her feelings were hurt because of the way Connie treated her as if she couldn’t be trusted. With the close relationship she and Connie had, Trish had been under the impression that Connie loved her like a daughter. Trish was disappointed at Gus as well for allowing his mother to leave her out of the meeting. When Gus tried to touch her, she nudged his hand off of her and turned her back on him, which hurt his feelings. He hated to see Trish like this and was tired of their current status. He wanted more.
Standing up from the bed, he walked over to the other side so he could come face-to-face with Trish. Her face had dried streaks from tears running down her cheeks and eyes. Gus was ready to change that. He had heard what his mother said about Trish not having the family name, and he was ready to turn that around. He dropped to his knee and firmly grabbed hold of her hand. Staring into her puffy eyes, he expressed his feelings.
“Trish, no one has ever given me the feeling of acceptance and completion that you have given me. Your beauty is represented beyond just your looks; your heart is beautiful. I have grown to love so many things about you . . . your character, your style, and your personality. You make me happy, and for that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, Trish, would you marry me?” asked Gus with tears in his eyes.
“Oh my God, Gus. That was the sweetest thing anybody ever told me. Yes, I’ll marry you, baby. Now, come here,” exclaimed Trish, as she cried her heart out while tightly holding on to him. They began kissing each other passionately.
“This isn’t the way I wanted to propose, and I promise I’
m gonna have the perfect ring for you,” Gus said as he brought her face up so they could stare into each other’s eyes. “I love you,” he said before placing a soft, tender kiss on her forehead.
“I love you too, baby.”
“Let’s go out and celebrate,” Gus exclaimed as he pulled Trish by the hand and rushed with her downstairs.
“Ma, we’re going out,” he yelled out as he and Trish flew past Connie and Jihad in the living room and left.
“Well, looks like we have the house all to ourselves,” Connie stated the obvious.
She changed the channel and put a different movie on. Jihad had no idea what the name of the movie was, but there were a lot of explicit sex scenes. He was shocked when Connie placed her hand in her pants and began playing with herself right in front of him, instantly arousing him. Jihad tried not to pay attention to her, afraid where things might lead. But the more she played with it, the more he watched. Once they eventually made eye contact, it was on and popping. Connie took her hand out of her pants and sucked the juices off her fingers as if to say, this is how I’d suck your dick. Jihad was paralyzed with shock and fear. As bad as he wanted to fuck her brains out, he couldn’t move or react. Instead, he sat there licking and biting his lower lip.
Connie, being the control freak she was, had no problem taking the lead. She stood up and removed her pants, exposing her clean-shaved pink diamond. She slowly walked over to the La-Z-Boy where Jihad sat in disbelief. With her right hand, she grabbed the seat adjuster and leaned it all the way back. Afterward, she climbed over on top of him and mounted her pussy on his mouth, giving him something to feast on. With his full wet lips, he was able to manipulate her clit to be fully exposed, as he teased it, licked circles around it, and sucked it like it had never been sucked. The pleasure made her scream at the top of her lungs. Fearing that someone would hear her loud moans, he forcefully flipped her over and placed his hand over her mouth and continued giving that pussy a tongue-lashing. Now that he had full control of the situation, he stood up and picked Connie’s body up into the air. Quickly pulling his dick out, he used the position to gain full access to the deepest dimension of her insides. She held on to his shoulders for dear life as he took advantage of her wet tightness. His strokes were long and touched areas of her body that had never been touched before. The harder he pumped, the louder she got. Once again becoming aware of where they were, he laid her back down on the floor and allowed her to bite down on his chest in order to muffle her screams. The pain and pleasure combined brought about multiple orgasms for Connie, and an explosive one for Jihad. It took a few minutes for them to regain composure and clean themselves up. Neither could believe what just happened between them. But there was not one regret.
What a Night Can Do
The following morning, Gus woke up in a good mood. He walked around the house singing and carrying on as if he didn’t have a worry in the world. Trish seemed to be in a good mood also. She cooked breakfast for the entire household. While eating, everyone seemed happy. Connie was curious to know what the sudden happiness was all about. She hated to be in the dark about anything concerning her family, especially if it pertained to her son.
“What you so happy about, boy? I mean, Gus,” Connie asked, switching her words up at the last minute for a more direct approach. When she said boy, Jihad must have thought she was talking to him because he turned redder than a fox.
“Oh, that’s because Gus proposed to me last night. It was so special! We’re getting married in two weeks!” interrupted Trish, answering for him. Connie gave them a funny look at first, and then eventually gave her congratulations.
Shortly after breakfast, Gus and Jihad were en route to the King of Prussia Mall to meet up with Black. He’d offered to accompany them to Tiffany’s Jewelry Store where a diamond specialist was to help them choose the best quality diamond that he had to offer. Gus wanted his wife-to-be to have the best, regardless of the amount of money needed to ensure it. Jihad hadn’t said anything during the ride. It appeared as if he had a lot on his mind, so Gus inquired.
“What’s up, nigga? You cool? My ol’ head, Black, been wanting to meet up with you since that Atlantic City incident. Do you know him?” asked Gus. Jihad was nervous because he had fucked Gus’s mother, and he knew he had to meet up with the agents soon.
“Nah, I’m cool. I’m just waiting on this little Rican bitch to get at me. She be fronting on that pussy since I been home, but she supposed to get at me today,” he announced.
“Well, look, nigga, I ain’t going to hold you up. But at least wait until you meet the ol’ head, then you can drive the Charger to go take care of your business. I’ll get a ride back with Black. I know you need some pussy after doing them couple of years,” added Gus.
If only he knew the pussy he’d gotten last night.
When they arrived at the mall, Black was waiting in the parking lot in a blue throwback 850 BMW. When they exited the car, Gus formally introduced Jihad to Black.
“Jihad, this is my mentor and ol’ head, Black. Black, this is my man, Jihad, who I been telling you about,” said Gus as the two men exchanged handshakes. All three then entered the mall. Once inside, they went straight up the escalator to the third floor where the jewelry store was. Upon entering, they were immediately acknowledged by the store’s manager who announced to the few customers inside that in five minutes, the store would be closing down for a private client. After the customers left, the owner put a Temporarily Closed sign on the window. He was then able to give them his full, undivided attention.
“Mr. Campbell, it’s always a pleasure to accommodate you. I thank you for choosing to do business with me. Your business is very well appreciated.” The jeweler then turned toward Gus and Jihad to introduce himself to them. “Gentlemen, my name is Phil Edin, and I welcome you two gentlemen as guests of Mr. Campbell. I assure you that you will receive the same accommodations and hospitality as he,” said Mr. Edin.
“Now, how may I assist you gentlemen here today?” he asked.
“I just proposed to my girl last night, and I need a ring to show for it. I’d like a one-of-a-kind ring because that’s exactly what my fiancée is,” Gus stated proudly.
While Edin was showing the men the diamond display which featured red, yellow, and green sapphire stones, complemented with platinum and VVS cuts that were brighter than the flash of a camera, Jihad was on the phone with Vickie, speaking in code that was designed to throw off anybody who was listening.
“Damn, where the fuck you been at? You been fronting like a motherfucker. You trying to get at me or what? I’m in the King of Prussia Mall right now. I can shoot up to Victoria’s Secret, grab you a gift, and be at your crib in twenty minutes. So, what’s it going to be?” asked Jihad, speaking in code with so much comfort and perfection, one would have thought he’d been an informant all his life.
“Okay, Jihad, I’m assuming you’re trying to tell me you can only get away for a period of time, so let’s hurry up and meet at the Pathmark on Belmont. How long do you suppose we’ll be able to meet up for?” asked Vickie.
“As long as that pussy can stay wet. I’ll probably stay in that thing for an hour or so. I’m on my way,” said Jihad. Gus smiled at him before passing him the keys to the Charger. He’d overheard the entire conversation and had no idea that it really had nothing to do with meeting up for sex. After shaking hands with Black, Jihad was soon pushing the Charger back down 76. When he arrived in Pathmark’s parking lot, he noticed the agents parked in their usual A-team-looking van. Finding a close parking space, he cautiously exited the car and proceeded to the van.
Once inside, Jihad was met by Adam, Amy, and an unfamiliar man who introduced himself as Special Supervising Agent Gary Shutz.
“Mr. Cooper, first and foremost, I’d like to thank and congratulate you on the hell of a job you’re doing assisting us in this investigation. Now, before we continue, I need to clear up a few things. A little while back, you and Gus were at a bar meet
ing up with Sha’Ron and Leaf when an argument ensued. The last transmission we were able to get from the wiretap was a static version of you and Gus leaving the bar. After that, all transmissions went dead and took us hours to restore with the technical difficulties. Now when this happens, I have to fill out a ton of paperwork that I don’t have the time or patience for, and I personally think the policy is bullshit. So unless some type of murder, kidnapping, or other sick shit happened, it’s really no biggie if I just write, during transmission failures, nothing of importance happened. Is that cool, Jihad?” asked Gary, using manipulation in order to save their own asses. See, Gary fed Jihad a bunch of bullshit about having technical difficulties. The fed’s equipment was state of the art and always kept up to date, so for them to experience any technical difficulties were either rare or unheard of. In fact, the only reason the feds had created this bogus story was because they were aware of the shooting which Jihad took part in, and they were left with two choices. Either they were to ignore it and destroy any record of it, or they’d acknowledge it, in which case they’d have to arrest Jihad and shut their investigation down. No one was seriously hurt, so in this situation, they chose to ignore it. Now all they had to do was get Jihad to sign the statement indicating that nothing of importance happened after he and Gus left the bar.
