Supreme Clientele

by Ashley Antoinette Snell

  “You trying to get back in?” Amir asked.

  “Hell yeah. Ain’t shit changed. I’ma do me until the day I die. I trap. That’s what I do best. Selling drugs paid my bills,” Jules bragged as he thought about getting back in the streets.

  “A’ight, man,” Amir said skeptically.

  Jules frowned and replied, “What you mean a’ight, man? What’s that all about?”

  “Shit has changed, man. You been gone for a hot little minute. Harlem is different. The game ain’t the same as it used to be.”

  Jules shook his head and confidently replied, “Nah, nigga. Shit ain’t changed that much. Niggas still like to eat, right? I’m about to make all these Harlem cats rich. All I got to do is make the call to Snow, and I’m back in the game.”

  Amir shook his head, knowing that Jules had been out of the loop while he was locked up. He didn’t want to be the one to tell him the news, but Jules saw the look on his face.

  “What?” Jules asked.

  “Man, Jules, yo’ man Snow got Harlem locked.”

  Jules shook his head. “Nah. I got love in Harlem, baby. When niggas find out I’m out, they gon’ be singing a different tune. Besides, how the fuck y’all mu’fuckas gon’ let a nigga from Jersey come through and run Harlem? That shit don’t happen. Only Harlem cats know how to get down in Harlem.”

  “Shit, Snow got a Harlem cat on his team.”

  “Who?”

  “Zya,” Amir said.

  Jules waved his hand in dismissal. “That bitch is dead. You hear me? As soon as I see her ass, his little connect with Zya is finished. That’s on my life.”

  “Nah, man. It ain’t gon’ be as easy as you think. Zya ain’t the same broad you used to fuck with. She is running shit for real. She’s getting money out of all the boroughs in New York and in Jersey. Shit, that bitch started fucking with Snow and took over. The pussy must be right, too, because he be deading niggas. Anybody who even looks at Zya wrong gets they shit rocked.”

  Jules clenched his jaw as he listened to Amir talk. He hadn’t known that Zya had started fucking with Snow. His jealousy and rage seethed through him as he thought about Zya and Snow . . . together. She was probably fucking with him all along. I had her ass making runs to pick up from that nigga, and she was fucking stepping out in the process. I don’t give a fuck how big she is. I’ma get to her sooner or later. Jules was hot at the fact that Zya had moved up in the game. He was even hotter that she was playing wifey to Torey Snow.

  “Fuck Snow. That mu’fucka doing shit that I’ve already done. He ain’t doing nothing new. I taught Zya everything she knows. I’m gon’ go see Black Ty to see if he can give me some work on consignment.”

  Amir nodded his head, but knew that Jules was setting himself up for failure. Zya controlled all of the drugs in New York and New Jersey. There was no room for anybody but her and Snow. Even if Jules did cop something from Black Ty, he would still be underneath Zya because she supplied Ty.

  As soon as they made their way into Harlem, Jules instructed Amir to drop him off at Black Ty’s. He was on a hunt for Zya’s head, and he knew that he would have to get on his feet before pursuing her. She was now the queen pen of New York, and he realized that she was going to be harder to touch than he had expected. He needed to get back in the game so that he could get back on his feet. He was going to get to Zya one way or another, no matter how long it took.

  “A’ight, Jules. Get at me when you get settled,” Amir yelled as he put two fingers out of his car window and drove off.

  Jules went to Ty’s dope house. He knew that he would be able to find him there because Black Ty stayed in the trap house all day and all night, trying to make his pay.

  He walked around to the back door, not wanting to make Ty’s block hot. He knew that being on parole, he had to be careful where he was seen. He wasn’t trying to get sent back Upstate.

  Jules knocked on the door in a rhythmic pattern.

  Tap-tap . . . Tap-tap . . . Tap.

  Black Ty opened the door immediately and went crazy when he saw Jules. “Oh, shit! My nigga out!” he yelled as he slapped hands with Jules. “You ready to get back on?” Ty asked immediately, already knowing why Jules was standing on his doorstep.

  “You already know,” Jules replied. He entered the dope house and looked around at the crack heads scattered about.

  “I see you still letting these mu’fuckas get high in your shit,” Jules commented.

  “Hell yeah. When they highs fall off, they already at the candy shop,” Ty replied in a joking way. A skinny, fiend-out-looking girl with matted hair and dirty clothes walked up to Black Ty, begging.

  “Ty, let me get a pack. I’ll do anything, Ty. I’ll make you feel good,” the girl said as she looked at him with soul-less eyes.

  Ty shook his head and replied, “Damn, don’t you see me over here talking to my mans?”

  “Come on, Ty. You know I’m good for it. I’ll do whatever you want . . . even in the butt,” she pleaded as she clung to his shirt.

  Ty smacked the girl’s hand off of his white T-shirt and pushed her away forcefully. She scurried away and huddled in the corner as she scratched her arms frantically. She was scratching so hard that you could hear the skin tearing, and she began to bleed.

  “Man, that shit is fucked up. I actually used to want to fuck with that bitch before she got all fiend-out,” Ty said as he turned toward Jules to continue their conversation.

  Jules looked closer at the girl in the corner, and a smile slowly crept across his face. He couldn’t believe what he saw. It was Vita, shooting dope in the corner.

  Damn, she out here bad. I know she knows where to find Zya, he thought as he approached her. Vita looked up at Jules and began to fix her hair out of embarrassment. She kept her eyes on the floor as she rocked back in forth in the corner.

  “Hey, Jules. You holding something?” Vita asked with a half-smile. Her teeth were yellow, as if she hadn’t brushed them in weeks, and she looked bad.

  Jules didn’t give a damn about how she looked. He saw an opportunity and took advantage of it. He knew that he would have to give up something to get the information he wanted, so he ran over to Ty and whispered in his ear. Ty smiled and slapped hands with Jules. He grabbed two packs of heroin off the table and walked back over to Vita.

  “I can help you out if you help me out,” Jules said.

  “I’ll do anything, Jules . . . anything,” Vita said as she opened her legs and exposed her vagina.

  Jules had been locked up for three and a half years without any pussy, and even Vita’s cracked-out offer was appealing to him. He grabbed Vita off the floor and went into one of Ty’s rooms. Vita stood in the middle of the room, still scratching at her bleeding skin as she waited for Jules to approach her. The only thing she was thinking about was getting her high. Jules turned her around and bent her over the edge of a dresser and rammed himself forcefully inside her anus.

  “Aghh!” Vita yelled out from the pain of Jules ramming in and out of her asshole. Vita tried to get loose from his hold, but Jules kept grabbing her by the hips, forcing her to take his ten inches. Tears slid down Vita’s face as Jules pushed her head onto the top of the dirty dresser.

  “Jules, stop!” Vita screamed, but Jules continued to please himself, disregarding her screams. He turned her around and pinned her against the dresser. The drawers dug into her back as he humped in and out of her.

  Vita closed her eyes and pictured her mother, dead from her drug habit. She realized that she was doing the same thing to herself, and tears flooded down her face as her best friend’s ex-boyfriend fucked her harshly.

  Jules finished his business by pulling out of her and emptying his semen all over her naked stomach. Vita fell to the floor and cried as Jules pulled up his pants and fastened his belt buckle.

  “Where’s Zya?” Jules asked without any remorse for what he had just done.

  “I don’t know,” Vita lied as she shook her head from side to side.<
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  Jules began to head toward the door, and Vita crawled after him, begging for her form of payment. “Jules, what about the dope?”

  “Tell me where Zya is and you will get your shit,” Jules said as he waved the heroin in Vita’s face.

  Vita knew that she shouldn’t, but she told Jules where Zya’s apartment was located. Jules threw the dope on the floor, and Vita quickly scurried out of the room to take a dose of her deadly medicine.

  “Junkie-ass bitch,” Jules said in disgust as he walked out to discuss business with Black Ty.

  After seeing a doctor, Wade discovered that all the liquor he had been drinking over the years had caught up to him. His liver was polluted from years of alcohol abuse, and the doctor had informed him that if he didn’t give up alcohol, he would drink himself into an early grave. Wade decided to get himself together, and he enrolled in Alcoholics Anonymous classes. He was determined to get clean so that he could get back to his case. He wanted to catch Anari, and knew that he would not be able to do it if he was not in his right mind. Anari was too smart to be brought down by a washed-up alcoholic cop. He knew that he had no chance of catching her unless he flew straight. Wade even cut off his braids and bought new clothes that were appropriate for work. He still wasn’t the suit-and-tie type of cat, but he did buy some slacks and shirts to wear on the job.

  Wade went back to the precinct to talk to the Lieutenant about coming back to work. He took a deep breath and knocked on the boss’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Wade stepped into the office and said, “I’m ready to come back to work, sir.”

  The Lieutenant squinted his face and reached for his eyeglasses. “Wade? You look like a completely different person!”

  Lonnie chuckled and replied, “That was kind of the point, sir.”

  “How long have you been clean?” he asked as he folded his arms and stared intently up at Wade.

  “Only a couple days, sir. But I’m enrolled in an Alcoholics Anonymous program, and I’m flying straight from now on. You have my word that I am only about the work from here on out,” Wade proclaimed with a serious expression on his face.

  Lieutenant Jones sighed and threw his pen on his desk. He sat back in his chair and propped his finger to his chin as he thought about bringing Wade back.

  Lonnie read the expression on his boss’s face. “I know you’ve heard this story before, but it’s different this time. I’m done with everything.”

  “Even if I bring you back, you’re going to have to work in the office for a while.”

  Lonnie’s face contorted in anger. “That’s bullshit. I have to get back on the Supreme Clientele case!”

  “No, you have to get clean! The Commissioner is already riding my ass because of you. I can’t take any more chances on you, Wade.”

  Lonnie leaned over the wooden desk and stared intently at his boss. “You won’t be taking a chance, Lieutenant. You know me. I can clear this case. I can bring down Anari Simpson. Think about how much publicity you will get when our department brings her in. That conviction will put you in the Commissioner’s seat.”

  Lonnie knew exactly what buttons to push to get Lieutenant Jones on his side. Everything in the justice system was political, and if Wade was able to get a conviction on Anari, then everybody associated with the case would excel in their careers.

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Let me back in, sir,” Lonnie stated.

  “No drugs?”

  “None,” Lonnie agreed.

  “No alcohol, Wade!”

  “Never, sir,” Lonnie replied.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Wade. I’m sticking my neck out for you. Don’t make me regret it.”

  Lonnie cracked a smile and knew that he was in. All he had to do was pick up where he had left off. “I won’t, sir. Thank you.” Lonnie hurried out of the office before his boss changed his mind.

  I just got one call to make.

  Zya felt the sun warm her skin as she relaxed in the beach chair on the secluded Miami beach.

  “Would you ladies like a drink?” a young white boy asked.

  “Yeah, bring me a green apple martini,” Zya replied. She looked over at Anari, who was lying on her back with huge sunglasses over her eyes.

  “Hey, Anari, you want a drink?” Zya asked. Anari didn’t reply, and Zya figured that she had fallen asleep.

  “That’ll be it,” Zya said as she waved the waiter away.

  It was their last day in Miami, and they had decided to spend it relaxing on the beach. I don’t think I’m ready to go back to Harlem. It’s like paradise down here, Zya thought as she watched the waves roll onto the hot sand.

  Zya’s cell phone rang loudly, startling her and interrupting her peaceful moment. She picked it up, thinking that it would be Snow, but when she saw a number she didn’t recognize, she thought, Who is this?

  “Hello,” she answered, revealing her irritation.

  “I know you didn’t think I forgot about you,” the voice said on the other end of the phone.

  “Who is this?” she asked with an attitude.

  “This is Detective Wade. Meet me Friday night at nine o’clock at the abandoned warehouse down by the Hudson River.”

  Zya’s eyes darted to Anari’s sleeping body, and she thought about what they had discussed the previous night. I know that your loyalty to me will be tested. One day, you will have to choose between loyalty and supremacy. Anari’s words echoed in her head.

  “I can’t do it,” Zya said firmly.

  “You will do it, or I’ll put your pretty ass in prison and let some dyke make you her bitch.”

  Zya was silent as she weighed her options in her head, frantically trying to think of a way out. I can’t snitch on Anari. She’s too powerful. She can’t be touched. This nigga don’t even know who he’s messing with. He’s trying to get me to do his dirty work, and I’m gon’ be the one fucked up if I get caught. Fuck that. I’m not a snitch. I haven’t heard from him in months, now he wanna call me up out of the blue and threaten me.

  “I can’t do it,” Zya repeated.

  Lonnie Wade smirked in the phone and said, “Don’t get cute. You must have forgotten about the pictures that I have, placing you at the same hotel as King’s murder. Oh yeah, and we still haven’t found the match to those fingerprints.”

  She was silent, and he knew his threats were working. Before she could say another word, he coldly stated, “This is not a negotiation. Be there.”

  Zya snapped her cell phone closed and looked over at Anari. Her heartbeat sped up as she thought about what Lonnie Wade was asking her to do. I don’t have a choice, Zya thought. She couldn’t see another way out, and realized that her hand was being forced. She didn’t want to turn on Anari, but she wasn’t going to jail.

  It’s either her or me.

  Chapter 14

  Snow Storm

  “I’ll call you later, Zya,” Anari said as she stepped off the plane and got into the limo waiting at the bottom of the steps.

  Zya looked out of the window and saw Snow waiting for her. She smiled at the sight of him, leaning against his Escalade with his arms folded across his chest. She grabbed her bags and rushed off the plane, running across the landing toward Snow. She jumped in his arms when she reached him, and kissed him passionately as he picked her up off the ground.

  “I missed you,” she said as she looked up at him and wrapped her hands around his neck, rubbing the back of his head.

  “I missed you too,” he replied as his gray eyes stared down at her. He grabbed her bag off the ground, threw it in the back of his truck, then opened the passenger door for Zya.

  “How was your trip?” he asked her.

  “It was good. Anari is cool. We got to know each other a lot better. It’s more than business between us now. She even went as far as to call me her friend.”

  Snow nodded his head then turned up his sub-woofers. Rick Ross was blaring from his speakers, and they bobbed their heads in un
ison as they drove toward Harlem.

  By the time they arrived at Zya’s apartment, she was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get inside and go to sleep. Snow looked up at her window and noticed that a light was shining from Zya’s apartment.

  “Did you leave your lights on?” he asked her as his brow suddenly dipped low, revealing his suspicion.

  “No, I don’t think so.” Zya looked up at her apartment window and shook her head. “No, I never leave my bedroom light on.” She grabbed her bag out of the back seat and ran into her building and up the stairs. She ascended them two at a time, hoping that no one had been inside her place.

  Please let my money still be there, she thought. If somebody had broken in, they had come across the biggest payday of their lives.

  When Zya reached her apartment, she noticed that her door was slightly ajar, and Snow pushed her to the side as he pulled out his .357. He put a finger to his lips, signaling for her to be quiet, and he walked slowly into the apartment, letting his gun lead the way. Zya stood back with a worried look on her face. She followed Snow through her apartment, gripping the back of his T-shirt in hesitation. After searching the entire house, he relaxed some and put his arm around Zya and kissed her on the top of the head.

  “They tore this mu’fucka up,” Snow said as he examined the trashed apartment. The many boxes of money were safe and sound, just as she had left them. Her apartment, however, was messed up. It looked like a tornado been through it a couple times, and all of her clothes had been thrown from her closet and ripped to shreds. The mattress on her bed was even cut up, the cotton spilling onto the floor.

  “Why would someone do this?” she asked as she looked around in confusion. She was worried because if her money had been gone, then she could have chalked it up as a robbery, but the intruder had taken nothing. The only thing done was destruction to her property, and that told her that it was personal, which meant that their business was not settled.