“He’s still your son, no matter what.”
“The only son I got is you, and if you start getting high, then fuck you too!” Detective Abraham hung up in Tone’s ear.
“Ignorant muthafucka!”
As soon as Tone stepped foot in the crib, he found Mya sitting in the living room waiting for him, a scarf on her head and her arms folded. “So we not answering phones now?”
“Not tonight, baby, please,” Tone said as he walked in the kitchen.
Mya quickly shot to her feet. “Fuck you mean, not tonight? You gon’ tell me something.”
“I was out and ran into Malcolm,” Tone said, pouring himself some orange juice.
Mya knew the deal about his brother’s bad crack problem and felt bad about it. “How is he?” she said, her whole tone changing.
“He look bad. I just hate to see him all fucked up and shit. No matter what I do to try and help, it seems like nothing works.”
“He ain’t gonna get that monkey off his back until he’s ready to,” Mya said, rubbing her man’s back. “Trust me, only he’ll know when enough is enough.”
“You right.”
After Tone went to the back, took a shower, and got in the bed, Mya hopped on his dick and rode it like there was no tomorrow, until the two both came then fell fast asleep in each other’s arms.
Chapter 4
“So what I been missing?” Tone sipped on some vodka and orange juice. He looked around the warehouse and saw about ten to twelve soldiers just sitting around, telling lies and war stories.
“You ain’t really been missing shit.” Maine, who was drinking his vodka straight, downed his drink. “Your pops done busted mad drug dealers and took over their spots.”
“Word?”
“Yeah. So I put a few soldiers in each spot.” Maine picked up the new machine gun he had just purchased and started tinkering with it. “But what’s good with you and that honey?”
“She cool.” Tone sipped his drink. “I think I can pull it off.”
“Well, shit. At least you gon’ get some pussy out of the deal.” Maine smiled. “I heard she fine too.”
Tone smiled. “Yeah, she good, money.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Just then Maine’s cell phone started ringing. He answered, “Yeah, who this?”
“Yo, this Li’l Man. That nigga Gruff out here in the projects right now. Get down here fast ’cause I think he about to leave.”
“Be there in a minute.” Maine hung up the phone, grabbed his new machine gun, and headed toward the door.
“Yo,” Tone called out, “where you going?”
“Just got the drop on that clown Gruff. I’ll be back in a second,” he said as he disappeared out the door.
Tone shook his head. He smiled when he saw Serena’s name flashing across the screen of his cell phone. “What’s good, ma?” he answered.
“You tell me,” she capped back. “I was just calling to see what was up for tonight.”
“I mean, what you wanna do? You know I’m down for whatever,” Tone told her.
“I think I wanna go out tonight, so put on your dancing shoes and come pick me up tonight.”
“Say no more. I got you. I’ll see you in about two hours.”
“A’ight, I’ll be waiting.”
Maine pulled up to the projects and double-parked his car on the ave and hopped out with his hoodie on, one hand tucked in his pocket. He wasn’t there to play no games, and couldn’t wait to teach this street punk they called Gruff a lesson he would never forget. Immediately he walked straight up to Li’l Man. “What’s good? Gruff still out here?”
“You just missed him,” Li’l Man said with a smirk on his face.
“Something funny?”
“Nah, I’m just saying ... what you looking for Gruff for? That nigga looked like he just killed ten people.”
Maine gave Li’l Man a comical look. He thought he sounded like a bitch. “So what? You his cheerleader now?”
“Nah, I’m just saying, I did time with him back in the day, and he a cool-ass nigga.”
“Let me ask you a question”—Maine stepped in Li’l Man’s face—“Gruff putting money in ya fuckin’ pocket?”
“Nah, it’s not even—”
Maine quickly stole on the li’l nigga, knocking him out with one punch. “Bum-ass nigga,” he mumbled as he stepped over Li’l Man’s body and hopped back in his whip. “I’m tired of playing with these niggas,” he said to nobody in particular as he headed over to the crib of one of Tone’s workers to go pick up some paper that he owed.
“You not leaving out this house another night until you tell me what’s going on,” Mya said, standing in front of the door so Tone couldn’t leave.
“What is you talking about?” Tone huffed. He knew sooner or later this moment was going to come. “Move out the way.”
“Fuck you!” Mya spat, not budging. “You done been out to the wee hours in the morning for the past three days, you gon’ tell me something.”
“Okay, okay. I been kicking it with this chick for the last three days.”
Mya smirked as she threw her hair in a raggedy ponytail. “You been doing what?” She charged him, swinging.
Tone grabbed Mya’s arms and wrestled her down to the floor and sat on top of her. “Chill.”
“All the shit we done been through, and you out with another bitch?” Mya growled, struggling to get up off the floor.
“Listen!” Tone yelled in her face. “I have to spend time with her. Her father is a big-time cat, and we just need her to feel comfortable with me so she can plug me in, that’s all.”
“Who the fuck is ‘we’?”
“My pops.”
“He always getting you in some shit. Why the fuck can’t you ever tell him no?” Mya asked, tears escaping from her eyes. She hated Tone’s father, who was always influencing him to do some dumb shit. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.
“Baby, this shit is only gonna take two weeks, I promise you.”
“What about us?”
“What you mean?” Tone asked, confused.
“We just got engaged the other day. How you just gonna be fuckin’ with another woman? Did you even take the time out to think about how I would feel?” Mya didn’t wait for him to reply before she added, “If I was out for two weeks with another man, how the fuck would you feel?”
“Listen, I gotta do what I gotta do, point-blank. This is too much money to pass up on.”
“Oh, so now you a prostitute? ’Cause a prostitute will do anything for money, so I guess you a prostitute.”
Tone sighed loudly as he got up off Mya and headed for the door.
“You walk out that door, you ain’t gotta worry about coming back,” Mya said, hoping to stop her fiancé from leaving, but Tone just walked straight out the door.
“Fuck you!” she spat as she tossed the ring he had just given her a few nights before at the back of his head. “Take that piece a shit with you, you punk-ass bitch!” she yelled and slammed the door.
Tone hopped in his all-black Range Rover and pulled out the driveway. He couldn’t believe how Mya was acting. As much as they had been through, he couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just hold it down for two weeks. She knew she was the one he wanted to marry, so what was the big deal?
Bitches always care more about love than money. But if a nigga didn’t have shit and still lived with his mother, then we wouldn’t’ve even had a relationship to start with. Fuck that! Ain’t no bitch ’bout to fuck up my money. He popped in 50 Cent’s new CD. Once I get all this money, she’ll love me again in two weeks, he thought to himself as he hit the highway, headed downtown to pick Serena up.
Maine stood in the lobby waiting for the elevator. “This shit need to hurry up,” he said. In a rush to get to the strip club, he was ready to just chill for the rest of the night, get drunk, and see some freaks. He stepped in the elevator and pressed the floor he was headed to repeatedly. Once the elev
ator reached his floor, he stepped off and found himself looking down the barrels of two 9 mm’s.
“I heard you was looking for me,” Gruff said with a smile. “I would’ve ran down on you sooner, but I didn’t even know what you looked like until earlier.”
Meanwhile, Gruff’s partner in crime, Maxine, stripped Maine of his .380 with the silencer on it.
Maine peeped that both stickup kids wore all-black. Gruff wore a hoodie that right there told him that he didn’t play, because he didn’t even bother to hide his face.
“Nigga, get ya bitch ass over here!” Maxine growled. She grabbed Maine by the collar of his shirt and pushed him in front of the door he was looking for. “Knock, muthafucka!”
Maine wanted to turn around and knock the little bitch with the tough-guy talk the fuck out, but he knew at that moment he couldn’t. So he did as he was told and knocked on the door.
Immediately, Rodney opened the door. “Damn, nigga! What the fuck took you so damn long?”
Gruff quickly tossed one of his 9s in Rodney’s face. “Back up, playboy!” he said, busting his way up in the apartment and shoving Rodney to the floor. He quickly duct taped Rodney’s hands.
Gruff then turned his attention on Maine. “Fuck you out here looking for me for?”
“You took something that belonged to me from someone else,” Maine answered.
“That sound like ya man’s problem.” Gruff smiled. “Fuck that gotta do with me and you?”
“I’m the enforcer,” Maine answered simply.
“So you just doing your job, right?”
“Yeah”
“Me too.” Gruff nodded at Maxine, who hit Maine upside his head with her .357.
Maine turned and tried to charge the bitch, but Gruff quickly put a bullet in his leg, dropping him instantly.
“Yo, fam, where you keep that money at?” Gruff asked, looking at Rodney.
“In the kitchen under the sink,” he answered quickly, not wanting to get shot like Maine.
Maxine quickly walked over to the kitchen and retrieved the money.
“Listen, Maine,” Gruff said, squatting so Maine could hear him clearly, “don’t take this personal, but I’m just doing my job. Either respect it or check it!” Then him and Maxine headed for the door.
Before Maxine exited the apartment, she walked over and kicked Maine in his face.
Maine lay on the floor holding his bloody leg. He was mad that he had got caught slipping, but he smiled because he was still alive. He knew that the two stickup kids would definitely see him again. He struggled to his feet and leaned up against the wall for support and eased his way up out of the apartment.
“Yo, untie me,” Rodney yelled at Maine’s departing back, but Maine ignored him.
Detective Abraham sat on his couch watching a young sexy stripper entertain him. He hated strip clubs, ’cause there was always too many people around. He liked his shows private and in his house. That way, once the show was over, he could fuck the stripper right in his house instead of in some champagne room.
The young sexy stripper bent over and jiggled her titties in Abraham’s face while he palmed her ass and whispered pervert shit in her ear. His whisper came to an end when he heard somebody banging on the door like the police.
“What the fuck?” Detective Abraham pushed the stripper out of his face and removed a .44 Magnum from under the couch cushion. He eased his way to the door. “Who the fuck is it?”
“Maine!”
“Fuck you want?” Detective Abraham quickly snatched open the door.
“Yo, I need your help,” Maine said, helping himself inside, blood dripping everywhere.
Immediately Detective Abraham helped Maine to the kitchen and, with one swipe, knocked everything off the countertop and helped Maine get up there.
He looked over and saw the stripper fully dressed. “Fuck!” he said under his breath. He walked over to her and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Baby, I gotta take care of a li’l something, as you can see, but make sure you call me tomorrow.”
The stripper kissed Detective Abraham on the cheek and promised she’d call him the next day then made her exit.
Detective Abraham quickly picked his house phone and called a crooked street doctor that had been in the family for years. After he hung up the phone, he said to Maine. “What the fuck happened to you?”
Maine looked over Detective Abraham and, through clenched teeth, said, “Gruff!”
The club was jumping when Tone and Serena stepped foot inside. Serena danced a little bit, while Tone just stood by the wall drinking some Alizé straight from the bottle, just enjoying the scene. Dancing was never really his thing.
Serena smiled. “Come and dance with me.”
“Nah, chill. That’s not even my flow.” Tone threw his bottle up again.
“Pleasssssse?” Serena sang as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the dance floor.
As Tone headed toward the dance floor, he could feel the eyes of all the other hustlers on Serena. When they got to the dance floor, Serena placed her soft ass on his dick and began grinding and gyrating her hips to the beat like she was having sex. Tone grabbed Serena’s waist with one hand and started grinding even harder into her as he turned up his bottle again. The two danced for four songs straight before Tone headed back over by the wall, where he continued to watch Serena enjoy herself.
Tone felt his cell phone vibrating on his hip. He removed it from its case and read the text message that his pops had sent him: SOMEBODY CROSSED MAINE UP AND HIT HIM WITH A JUMP SHOT GET HERE ASAP
Just as Tone was putting his phone back in its case, Serena walked up. “You enjoying yourself?” She took the Alizé bottle from Tone and took a deep swig.
“Something just came up, and we gotta go.” Tone grabbed Serena’s hand and led her out of the club.
Once outside, Serena asked, “You sure everything is okay?”
“My homie just got shot.”
Just then Tone saw some big, dirty nigga named Big Phil. Tone always saw Big Phil around, but the two never spoke to each other. Big Phil was a nigga who talked big shit and liked to put on a show for the crowd. He was also known as being a disrespectful motherfucker. Immediately Tone saw Big Phil’s eyes land on Serena.
Big Phil stopped dead in his tracks and shook his head. “Now that’s what you call a ass,” he said, craning his neck to get a better look at Serena’s ass.
Tone stepped toward Big Phil. “Fuck you just say?” Tone wasn’t mad about what Big Phil said, he was mad ’cause he felt that Big Phil was trying to disrespect him in front of a crowd.
“Fuck is you getting all hot for? I was just giving your joint a compliment,” Big Phil said. “But if you wanna get ignorant, that ain’t no problem either.” He lifted his shirt and exposed the butt of his gun.
Immediately Serena jumped in front of Tone. “Let’s go, baby. He ain’t worth it. I’m not gonna let you go to jail over this loser,” she said as she escorted him through the parking lot.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Big Phil said loud enough so Tone and Serena could hear him. “You better listen to your bitch and get outta here before you get hurt.”
Tone reached his whip and quickly grabbed his .40-cal from underneath the seat.
Before he could turn around, Serena was right in front of him. “Let it go, please,” she pleaded. “It’s not worth it.”
Tone sighed loudly as he slid behind the wheel. Once Serena hopped in the passenger seat, he quickly pulled off. If Serena wasn’t with him, he would’ve gone back and blown Big Phil’s head off for trying to play him like that, but for the moment he had to suck it up and let it go. He knew he would definitely run into Big Phil again, and it would be more than words being exchanged.
Chapter 5
Tone pulled up in front of his father’s house and threw the Range in park. He was still mad at Big Phil trying to stunt on him back there, all the things that he really wanted to do to the man running thro
ugh his mind all at the same time.
“I’ll be back in a second,” he said to Serena as he slid out the Range. He walked up to his father’s house and knocked lightly.
Detective Abraham snatched the door open, a frown on his face.
“What happen?” Tone asked as soon as he stepped in the kitchen and saw Maine laid up with his leg all wrapped up.
“Tough guy over here decided he wanted to go out and look for Gruff,” Detective Abraham volunteered, shaking his head.
“He gon’ have to answer for this,” Maine said.
Detective Abraham told him, “The plan was for you to handle business while Tone was absent for a while, not start an unnecessary war.”
“He already took money out of our pockets once.” Maine placed his gaze on Detective Abraham. “And I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.”
“Take care of business first!” Detective Abraham yelled. “Once business is taken care of, I could care less what you do.”
“I got shorty outside,” Tone cut in. “Can I come holla at y’all tomorrow?”
“She outside right now?” Detective Abraham asked, a wicked smirk on his face.
“Yeah, she sitting in the car.”
“Did you get the connect yet?”
“Stop being so thirsty.” Tone waved his pops off. “I’ma get it.”
Detective Abraham pointed a finger at his son. “Don’t be falling in love with this bitch. Don’t forget this is business.”
“I got this, old man,” Tone said, ending the conversation at that.
Tone slid back behind the wheel of the Range Rover. “I want you to spend a night with me,” he said, looking at Serena for a response.
“Let’s go.”
“That was easy.” Tone smiled as he pulled off, headed to his other condo out in Jersey.
Tone pulled into his parking spot and let the engine die.
“This is it,” he said as the two entered the condo. “Make yourself at home.”
The Block Page 3
