The Block

by Treasure Hernandez

  The stripper came back as soon as she heard the door shut. “Everything all right, daddy?” she asked, rubbing Ice-T’s shoulders.

  Ice-T was watching the detective pull off with his money. “Man, I swear I’m gonna kill that fuckin’ cop one of these days.”

  Serena sat on the couch in the living room getting her relax on. She was holding a glass of red wine and enjoying the sounds of Mary J. Blige that flowed softly through the speakers, when a loud knock at the door startled her, causing her to flinch.

  “Who is it?” she yelled, walking toward the door. When she reached the door, she quickly looked through the peephole. Malcolm stood on the other side of the door looking extra filthy and stink. She took a deep breath before opening the door. “Hey. How you doing?” she asked in a polite voice.

  “Hey. How you doing?” Malcolm said, crust all in his voice. “Is my brother home?”

  “No, he’s not here right now.”

  “Oh, okay. Can you please tell him I stopped by?” Malcolm turned to leave.

  Serena stopped him. “Hold on. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Come on in. I’ll make you something to eat.”

  Serena pulled out her cell phone and dialed Tone’s number. He finally answered on the fifth ring.

  “Hey, baby. What’s up?”

  “Your brother just stopped by here looking for you. Is it okay if I make him something to eat?”

  “Yeah, that’s cool. Hook him up. I should be there in about an hour, a’ight.”

  “No problem, baby. See you soon.” Serena headed to the kitchen. “What would you like to eat?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Malcolm answered quickly. “Beggars can’t be choosy.” He smiled.

  “How about some fried chicken and macaroni and cheese?”

  Malcolm flashed his fucked-up smile again. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Coming right up,” Serena sang as she poured herself another glass of red wine.

  “So how did you and my brother hook up?”

  “I don’t know,” Serena answered with a smile. “It kind of just happened.” Just the mention of Tone’s name brought a smile to her face.

  “I know my brother can be a handful sometimes, but trust me, he’s a good guy,” Malcolm assured her. “He even saved my life once or twice.”

  “And I’m pretty sure you’ve saved his life once or twice as well.”

  “Have you ever met our father?”

  “Not yet,” Serena answered, her back turned as she seasoned the meat.

  “He’s a real piece of shit.”

  “Awww, don’t say that.”

  “That piece of shit tried to get me killed—his own son—over two hundred dollars. Can you believe that shit?”

  “Everybody makes mistakes,” Serena said nicely. She really wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. “Ummm, you want to get upstairs and take a shower and freshen up before you eat?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” Serena told him. “There’s fresh towels in the bathroom, and I’ll grab you one of Tone’s outfits to put on.” She escorted Malcolm up to the bathroom.

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate it.” Malcolm entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Serena picked out a nice outfit for him and laid it across the bed as she went back downstairs to finish cooking. Ten minutes later Tone walked through the front door. “Hey, baby. What’s up? My brother still here?”

  “Yeah, he’s upstairs taking a shower. I hope you don’t mind, but I laid out one of your outfits for him to put on.”

  “Nah, it’s all good. How he looking?”

  “Still the same,” Serena said, as nice as possible.

  Tone shook his head. “He ain’t gon’ never be able to get off that pipe.”

  “He will, baby. It just takes time.”

  “What takes time?” Malcolm asked, walking down the steps.

  Tone yelled, “You getting off that shit! How long is this shit gonna take?”

  Malcolm smirked. “How dare you talk to me like that?” he said, walking up on his little brother. “Last I remember, Pops was trying to get you to get high, and I stepped in and took on the drugs so you wouldn’t have to. But now you talk to me like I’m an animal?”

  “Trying a drug doesn’t turn you into a fiend,” Tone said.

  Malcolm smiled. “Thank you for the clothes, Serena.” He walked toward the door.

  “What about your food?” she called out.

  “I’m not even hungry anymore,” Malcolm said as he walked out the door.

  Once Serena was sure he was gone, she said, “You didn’t have to talk to him like that.”

  “Fuck him! Muthafucka needs to start taking better care of himself, plain and simple.”

  “What was he talking about when he said he took on the drugs so you wouldn’t have to?”

  “I don’t know,” Tone lied. “The nigga was probably high.” He knew exactly what Malcolm was talking about.

  Serena laughed. “For real, baby, what was he talking about?”

  “Back in the day my pops was always complaining about how his job never paid him enough money. That’s the reason Mom left him. From then on, he decided he was going to take his money and that we was going to help him.”

  Tone’s mind drifted back to a few years earlier.

  “Get over here,” Detective Abraham huffed as he shoved Tone over toward the kitchen. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the drugs on the kitchen table.

  “Drugs,” Tone answered nervously.

  Detective Abraham tested him, “What kind of drugs?”

  “Umm, cocaine?” Tone guessed. Being only seventeen, all he knew was, it was white and it was drugs.

  “What makes you think this is cocaine?”

  “Because it’s white.”

  “Listen, Tone,” Detective Abraham began, “the only way you will ever know what you working with is by tasting it.” He scooted the plate over toward Tone.

  Tone stuck his finger in the powdered substance and put it in his mouth like he’d seen his father and Malcolm do so many times.

  “I mean, you got to taste it.”

  Tone looked up at his father, before bending down to pick up the small cut-up piece of straw.

  Just as he was about to take a snort, Malcolm stepped in. “Fuck is you doing?” he barked.

  “Mind your business,” Detective Abraham said sternly. “The boy gotta always taste his product.”

  Malcolm saw the nervous and scared look on Tone’s face and knew he had to think quick. “Gimme. I’ll taste it.”

  “No, I told Anthony to taste it.”

  “I’m the oldest, so I’ll taste it.” Malcolm took the straw from Tone’s hand and sniffed the product.

  Malcolm looked over at Tone when he was finished, and Tone silently mouthed the words “Thank you.”

  From there on out, Malcolm decided to keep on sniffing the drug, until that high wasn’t enough.

  “And that’s how it started.”

  “That’s horrible.” Serena exhaled loudly. “Who would do something like that to their own child?”

  Tone just smirked. “And ever since then he’s been hooked on drugs. He started out just sniffing here and there, and then the shit just got out of hand. The nigga started stealing and everything.”

  “For real?”

  “Yup, my pops even pistol-whipped him and made him strip butt naked in front of everybody. But fuck all that, baby. It is what it is.” Tone bent down and kissed Serena on the lips. “I just came to grab something real quick. I gotta head out for a minute with Maine. I love you,” Tone said as he flew out the door. “I’ll call you later.”

  Serena watched Tone back out of the driveway. “Be careful out there, baby!” she yelled.

  Tone pulled up in front of the strip club and quickly spotted Maine and Young Mike standing out front. “What’s good, li’l niggas?”

  “Li’l niggas?” Maine echoed. “Ni
gga, please. I’ma O.G. out this muthafucka.”

  “Let me go park this bitch real quick.”

  Tone swerved into a parking spot and walked back to the front of the club, and the three men entered. Once inside the trio chose a small area over in the corner.

  “Bring us one bottle of champagne and a bottle of red wine, please,” Tone told the waitress.

  “So you ready to do this time?” Maine joked.

  “Hell, fuck no,” Tone said, shaking his head. “Them five years gon’ take forever to go by.”

  “Just try to keep yourself busy,” Young Mike said, as if it was just that easy.

  “Nigga, it ain’t shit to do in jail,” Tone said, and him and Maine burst out laughing. “Speaking of jail, what’s up with them fools, Harlem and Smith?”

  “Harlem about to be released within the next week ’cause he’s a minor,” Young Mike replied.

  “Damn! He getting off scot-free?” Maine asked, his face crumpled up.

  “Nah, five years probation,” Young Mike told him.

  Tone asked, “What about Smith?”

  “Looking like he gon’ have to sit for about three years.”

  “Damn!” Maine banged his fist on the table. “If that nigga didn’t freeze up, he would’ve got away. Shit, as soon as I saw them flashing lights in my mirror, I was out.”

  “Well, he got three years to learn from his mistake,” Tone said.

  Just then the waitress returned carrying their bottles.

  “Look at this clown,” Maine said, staring at the club’s entrance. “I’m just waiting for a reason to smoke this nigga.”

  “Who?”

  Tone and Young Mike both turned around to see Ice-T entering the strip club looking like new money. Behind him was Nut, his number one shooter. Nut stood at about five foot eleven inches and weighed about 160 pounds, but whatever his body lacked, his heart made up for it. Following Nut was several youngblood niggas, all dying to prove themselves to him. If anything popped off, they were definitely going to turn it up in the club without thinking twice.

  “Them niggas ain’t bothering nobody.” Tone waved over a thick dark-skinned stripper.

  The stripper walked up to Tone. “Hey, daddy,” she whispered in his ear, mushing his face into her titties.

  “Let me see what you working with,” Tone said as he slapped her ass.

  The stripper then turned and bent over, spreading her ass cheeks open in Tone’s face. “You like that, don’t you, daddy?” She started making her ass clap in Tone’s face.

  “Damn!” Tone said out loud. He sprinkled a few singles on the stripper’s back.

  Nut had noticed Maine looking at them for the past twenty minutes and didn’t like it one bit. “Yo, if this nigga look over here one more time, I’m popping off.”

  “Who that?” Ice-T asked, looking through his dark-tinted shades. “That’s Tone and his crew, right?”

  “Yeah,” Nut answered, not really caring for Tone either.

  Ice-T sat back and pulled a stripper down onto his lap, and she started playing with his ponytail. No matter where he went, he always sported a ponytail and dark shades.

  “Tone is cool,” Ice-T said. “I don’t know about the rest of them niggas. Matter of fact, tell the waitress to send a bottle to their table on me.”

  “What the fuck is this?” Maine asked as the waitress sat a bottle of champagne on their table.

  “Paid for by the gentleman over there,” the waitress said, pointing over toward Ice-T’s table.

  Maine huffed, “We don’t want that shit. Go take that shit back and tell him I said he can shove that bottle up his ass!”

  Tone and Young Mike was so busy being entertained by sexy dancers, they hadn’t even seen the waitress approach their table.

  “Hey, that guy over there refused to take the bottle and told me to tell you to shove it up your ass, sir,” the waitress reported.

  A smirk danced on Ice-T’s lips as he stood up and headed over toward Tone’s table, with Nut and the thirsty youngblood niggas on his heels.

  “Yo, we got company,” Young Mike said, tapping Tone’s leg as he saw Ice-T and his crew approaching.

  Ice-T stopped directly in front of Maine. “You got a problem over here, fam?”

  “You want a problem over here?” Maine shot back.

  Tone stepped in between the two. “Yo, what’s good?”

  “Ya man over here acting like he want a problem. I tried to send y’all a bottle over here, and he talking about, shove it up my ass.” Ice-T never took his eyes off Maine. “You need to control that nigga.”

  Maine looked at Ice-T like he was insane. “Control me?”

  With the quickness of a cat, Maine swung around Tone and punched Ice-T in his face. Then Nut punched Maine in his face.

  Next thing you know, all hell broke loose, with fists swinging from every direction in an all-out brawl, sending strippers running to get out of harm’s way.

  The bouncers finally ran and tried to separate the two crews. All Tone could remember was being choked by a bouncer then being maced, followed by being tossed outside on the curb. Tone stood up and saw police everywhere.

  “Let’s go, sir.” An officer pushed Tone toward the parking lot. “Either go home, or go to jail,” he yelled.

  Tone made sure he spotted Maine and Young Mike first before he limped over toward his car. “Fuck them niggas!” he said to himself, waving them off as he slid in his car. He looked in the rearview mirror, trying to see how much damage had been done to his face. Bitch-ass niggas! He made his car come to life with a turn of the key.

  As soon as Tone stepped inside the house, he noticed that Serena was in the kitchen making herself a sandwich.

  “Hey, baby. You hungry?” She quickly noticed his busted lip and a few scratches on his face. “What happened to your face?”

  Tone sat down at the kitchen table. “I got into a fight at the strip club.”

  “You better not had been in there fighting over none of them bitches, or else I’ma kick your ass myself,” Serena said as she walked off to go get the alcohol and some tissue.

  “The only bitch you’ll ever catch me fighting over is you. But fuck all that! We need to figure out how we gon’ keep this money pouring in while I’m locked up.”

  “I’m all ears,” Serena said as she cleaned Tone’s wounds.

  “A’ight. Well, this how we gon’ do this. After you get the work, all you gotta do is drop it off to Maine, and he’ll handle everything else. All you gotta do is sit back and collect the money.”

  “How much will he be giving me?”

  “He’ll be giving you all the re-up money and our profit.”

  “You sure he can be trusted? ’Cause that’s a lot of money.”

  “Most definitely. I’d put my life on it.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear.” Serena smiled as she kissed Tone’s busted lip.

  “You just make sure you handle your business.”

  “You ain’t gotta worry about me. My business gonna get handled and handled well, might I add,” Serena said, her hands on her hips.

  Tone looked down at Serena’s sexy-ass legs and pedicured toes, and his dick immediately got hard. “Why don’t you handle your business right now?” he said as he pulled out his dick.

  The words barely left his mouth before Serena was all over him. She slowly began kissing on his inner thighs then played with the head with the tip of her tongue, before taking him all the way in her mouth.

  Serena had Tone moaning loudly, letting warm saliva run down the shaft and over her hand. Skillfully she tried to relax the muscles in her throat and deep-throated as much as she could. She tried her hardest not to gag and take the dick like a pro. But she couldn’t, not with Tone fucking her mouth like he hated her.

  “Ooh shit, baby,” he groaned. “Ya daddy about to come. You ready for it?”

  “Um-hmm.” Serena started sucking even harder.

  With a grunt, Tone’s body went
stiff as he exploded in her mouth. “Well, damn!” he said, out of breath.

  “Don’t test my skills ever again.” Serena smiled as she grabbed her sandwich off the counter and headed to the bedroom.

  Chapter 13

  Gruff pulled over and double-parked behind a van. “How your ribs feeling?”

  “They a’ight,” Maxine replied, still in pain.

  “A’ight, cool. I want you to wait here.” Gruff slid out the car and walked up to this young kid who was outside slanging. “Yo, what’s good?” he asked the young man. “Can I get six for fifty-five?”

  “Yeah, I got you,” the young’un answered, looking over both shoulders.

  “A’ight, we gotta do this in the building,” Gruff said. “It’s too many people out here.” He walked off in the direction of the building, looking over his shoulder. He grinned when he saw the young hustler following behind him.

  Gruff snatched the young hustler into the staircase as soon as he entered the building. “Get over here, you little muthafucka!” he growled. He quickly stuck his 9 mm up under the kid’s chin. “I need to fine Tone.”

  “I don’t know nobody named Tone,” the young hustler said, scared to death.

  “Well, li’l nigga, you better tell me something, and you got to the count of three. Two—”

  “Okay, okay,” the young hustler said, pleading for his life. “All I know is that there’s a new main stash house out in Brooklyn.”

  “Where at in Brooklyn?” Gruff asked through clenched teeth.

  “In Flatbush. I got a pen in my pocket. I’ll write down the address for you.”

  “You better not be lying, li’l nigga. That’s all I’ma tell you.”

  The look on Gruff’s face said it all.

  “I’m not lying.” The young hustler handed Gruff the piece of paper with the address of the new stash house on it.

  Gruff took all the money and work the young hustler had on him. “Get the fuck outta here!” he said, dismissing the young street punk. “I catch you out here again and I’ma clap you. You too fuckin’ young to be out here any damn way.” Gruff grumbled all the way back to the car.