I stepped into the building with Rico. We walked toward the elevators and waited. The lobby was quiet; the spring heat had drawn everybody outside for some fresh air, even though the air in the Bronx wasn’t that fresh. But waiting in the sweltering lobby was a bitch. It was too hot.
We stepped into the smelly and pissy elevator. Rico pushed for the ninth floor. It quickly ascended. I was quiet. I wasn’t nervous; it just felt awkward being behind enemy lines, especially after all the shit that done went down in the past month. We stepped onto the ninth floor and I followed Rico to apartment 9F. Already, I could hear music blaring from the apartment. Rico knocked. We waited. Someone came to the door and looked through the peephole.
“It’s Rico, open up,” he said with authority.
There was no hesitation. The apartment door came open and Rico walked inside. I was right behind him. Once inside, it was obvious that this was a trap house, or trap apartment. There were about six goons present and the living room was prevalent with drugs, mostly keys of cocaine being broken down for street distribution, pills and guns displayed everywhere. The weed smoke was heavy. Two young boys were heavily engaged playing Madden NFL on the giant flat screen.
The eyes fixated on me meant I looked really good, like Beyoncé herself was in the room. I was eye candy in the place. I stood behind Rico silently. Being in a room filled with hardcore thugs and killers wasn’t anything new to me. I was EBV and well known out here. I had respect like Rico, but my man was notorious and no one dared wanted to disrespect me. I was Rico’s girl and that meant a lot to everyone in the room.
I noticed a few familiar faces in the room too, even a nigga I fucked a few months ago, Feach. He only looked at me. He had no words and I had nothing to say to him. His crazy killer ass gave Rico dap, said a few words to my man, and he went back to work, breaking bricks down at the table and weighing shit on the scales accurately. Every piece of drug paraphernalia and automatic weapon was in the apartment. The DEA and ATF would have a field day if this place ever got raided.
“What y’all niggas got for me?” Rico asked.
One of his goons stood up and went into one of the bedrooms. He shortly came back out with a black book bag and handed it to Rico. It was obvious the bag contained cash, probably lots of it, in the tens of thousands. It’s the only thing that would bring Rico into the projects: money. Rico was moving shit wholesale, maybe three or four keys a week in these projects and others. And those he knew well, they got their shit on consignment.
“We gonna need that re-up real soon, Rico. Shit is moving really good out here,” the man said.
“I’ll holla at my connect first thing tomorrow morning,” Rico replied.
The man nodded and smiled.
I looked around the apartment more. It was definitely far from being someone’s home. The front door was steel plated and painted black. The apartment windows were blacked out. The rap music was still playing but it had been turned down so Rico could hear himself talking, and the goons inside either were busy with the bricks on the table they were cutting up and breaking down and smoking, cigarette or weed, or playing Madden or NBA Live on the Xbox.
Rico didn’t socialize much with anyone in the projects. He didn’t get his hands dirty unless he had to. He had been there and done that: shot niggas, murdered niggas, got locked up, and been in the trenches of warfare. Usually, he had his right-hand man, Nine, with him and handling his street affairs. But from my understanding, Nine had received a year sentence a few months back, and was on Rikers Island for violating his parole and assault.
Rico walked up to this man who seemed to be in his late twenties. “Jo-Jo, you making sure security is tight around here, right?” Rico asked. He stared powerfully at the man, who was lean with dark skin with long dreads.
Jo-Jo nodded. “Yeah, I’m on point wit’ it, Rico.”
“You making sure the young ones are going up and down these stairways, perpetually making sure there ain’t no trouble brewing, and you got lookouts on the rooftop?”
“Rico, we tight wit’ our shit. I know it’s hot out here.”
“A’ight.” Rico was always on point. He still clutched the book bag in his hand. He decided to call over one of the young kids playing Madden.
“Mike, c’mere,” Rico called out.
Mike hurried over to Rico like he was being called by a strict parent. He looked fourteen, but his eyes and demeanor showed that he was very mature in these streets and probably been through and seen more than the average man in his short lifetime.
“Hold on to this fo’ me,” Rico said to him. Rico handed him the book bag. Mike took it without any problems. It appeared Rico had some trust for him because that bag was precious. I fixated my eyes on Mike. He was a little cutie and in a few years, I knew he was going to be a terror.
While Rico was talking to Mike, I had to use the bathroom. I took it upon myself to find the bathroom without asking.
“I gotta use the bathroom, Rico,” I said to him.
“First door, to your right,” he said.
I made my way toward the bathroom, but I soon noticed someone coming out of one of the bedrooms. I stopped in my tracks and gazed at this person. It was a female. She made her way toward me, to the living room, and when I saw her identity, I scowled heavily. She was a foe of mines. It was one of Denise’s peoples, Keysha. She saw me and glared at me. The bitch was one of the girls Sammy and I fought a few weeks back. Me and my bitches had that bitch on the floor and we went ham across her head and tried to beat her into a coma. The bitch had the audacity to be in the same room as me. I was ready to pop off. But it was clear that she was there only because she probably was fuckin’ one of the niggas in the apartment.
Rico noticed the sudden tension between her and me. He quickly stepped in between us, knowing I was ready to charge, and said to us, “Okay, y’all two ladies play nice now. I can’t be having that bullshit up in here. You know this, Mouse.”
“Fuck that bitch!” I exclaimed.
“Fuck you too, bitch!” Keysha retorted.
I took a few steps toward her and was ready to lunge at this bitch and cause havoc on her. Rico held me back. I was so heated that I almost forgot where I was at and was ready to cause mayhem in his spot. That would have been disrespecting my man and his business. And Rico showed me nothing but respect since we’d been together.
Rico continued to hold me back though. We exchanged harsh words, giving the men in the place a little show. I was ready to tear that fuckin’ bitch apart with my bare fuckin’ hands.
“Mouse, you need to calm the fuck down,” Rico shouted at me.
“I am calm. But I’ll be even calmer when I fuck this bitch up,” I exclaimed.
“Bring it then, stupid bitch!” Keysha shouted.
I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to touch that bitch right now and piss Rico off even more. I had the gun on me, too; there was no telling what I could have done to Keysha in the heat of the moment. Rico was already upset that we were bringing unnecessary drama in his place. He glared at Keysha and then asked harshly, “Who this bitch belongs to?”
“She’s wit’ me, Rico,” someone answered submissively.
He was a beefy and shirtless goon, with his upper torso swathed with intimidating tattoos. He looked like trouble, but he didn’t bring any while standing in front of Rico.
Rico was blunt with his response. “Get this fuckin’ bitch out of here right now and don’t bring her back to this place. Fuck she hangin’ around here for!”
“I’m sorry, Rico. I didn’t mean any harm,” the beefy thug replied sheepishly.
I smirked at Keysha while Rico was humiliating her in front of everyone. She didn’t say a word. It was a golden moment. I still wanted to beat her ass and was tempted to follow her outside into the hallway and get it popping. I kept my cool though. She was quickly escorted out of the apartment, but before her exit, Keysha locked eyes with me and said, “This ain’t over, bitch!”
“I’ll
see you around, bitch,” I spat.
Fuck her!
I loved Rico so much more for doing that for me. He showed and proved I came first. I was important to him. After Keysha left, we left. Rico didn’t like hanging around the projects for too long. He kept it moving like the wind blowing. We left the building with Mike carrying the book bag filled with cash to his car.
With it being a warm and balmy night, I wanted to go for a nice drive somewhere with my man, maybe the beach. I loved the beach, and the ocean. Since growing up, the ocean had been a place that was so picturesque and tranquil for me.
I’d learned to swim at the YMCA when I was eight years old. There was something about water that was so soothing and relaxing. It was a place where I could clear my head and get away. I used to get on the F train from Manhattan after transferring from the 5 train coming from the Bronx, and ride it to the last stop in Coney Island, Brooklyn. I would sit on the beach and stare at the ocean for hours. I would be alone. But there were a few times when I would bring Sammy with me. We would marvel at the atmosphere and just talk for hours. Being in Brooklyn, we weren’t bad girls or some gangster bitches. In a different borough, far away from the Bronx, we were or seemed to be two regular teenagers just chilling on a spring or summer day.
It’d been almost a year since I’d been to the beach. I wanted to go tonight. I wanted to spend a nice time with Rico on the boardwalk, perhaps walk barefoot through the sand, maybe hold hands and talk while we gazed at the ocean. Yeah, it was probably farfetched thinking with a man like Rico, but a bitch could dream. However, since I’d been kicking it with Rico, my life had become a bit calmer. I would mostly stay at his place writing lyrics, watching TV, relaxing and fucking and sucking my man.
I climbed into the passenger seat of his car. Mike placed the book bag in the trunk and Rico got behind the wheel. We were leaving Edenwald. The night was peaceful so far. I turned on the radio and listened to HOT 97. Rico pulled out the parking lot and turned right onto 229th Street. When he came to a stop at a red light on the corner of 229th Street and Laconia Avenue, I turned my head and saw Sammy, Tina, Chyna, and La-La walking toward the corner. It was good to see my bitches again, even if it was from the car. My clique was looking fierce and strong.
Sammy noticed me in the car with Rico and looked at me. We had spoken via phone a few days ago, and everything was still cool between us. She told me that Search had another show lined up for us; this one was in the city, Midtown Manhattan, at the Manhattan Center Grand Ballroom. And then she was trying to get us more time to record in the studio. I was ready. I really wanted to get out the car and chill with my clique for a moment, but Rico was in a rush to get somewhere else.
“Sammy, Chyna, La-La, Tina, what’s up y’all?” I hollered.
“Hey, Mouse!” my clique shouted back at me in unison.
They were excited to see me. They rushed toward the car before the light could change green. I could barely hug everyone from where I sat. But we still greeted each other with friendship. There wasn’t any hate, but all love for me. They were all glad to see me happy and doing well.
“Hey, Rico,” Chyna, Tina, and La-La said.
Rico greeted them halfheartedly. He was ready to drive off.
“Damn, look at you, Mouse, styling and looking all nice and shit. I love what you got on,” said Tina, admiring my outfit for the evening.
“It’s nice, right.” I smiled.
“Bitch, you got on red bottoms?” La-La asked incredulously.
“Yup!”
“Ooooh, I need me a pair of those,” La-La said.
I chuckled and smiled.
“When you gonna come chill wit’ ya bitches again, Mouse?” Chyna asked.
“I’ll be back around,” I told her.
“Don’t be forgetting about us,” said Tina.
“Oh, guess who I just ran into,” I blurted out.
My clique was ready to hear who.
“Keysha’s trifling ass,” I let be known.
“Where you saw that bitch at? We been lookin’ fo’ her,” said Sammy with a grimace.
“She was at Rico’s . . .” I started, but I had to stop myself from saying too much. I already knew I said too much when Rico cut his eyes at me, giving me a stern warning that I had a big mouth. “I saw her over by Denise’s old building, walking,” I informed them faintly.
“We ’bout to fuck that bitch up then,” Chyna hollered.
I saw the fire building in their eyes. They were ready for some action. I so badly wanted to jump out the car and go with them, but I couldn’t. The light changed green and before Rico pulled off, I locked eyes with Sammy. We were still kicking it, but not like before. She didn’t have much to say to me at the corner, and I wondered why.
“Mouse, get wit’ us, okay?” Chyna screamed out.
I waved good-bye to them. Damn, I missed hanging out with them. But my life was with Rico now; and the only disadvantage about that was I wasn’t able to kick it with my clique like that anymore. He had a new life planned for us, and I didn’t mind; it was perfect. He didn’t want to see me in the streets anymore and risking death or incarceration. He loved me, and I loved him.
Chapter Eight
Sammy
I took a cab to the train station at Eastchester, and got on the number 5 train that was heading to the city. The only reason I didn’t take the cab into the city was because it would have been too expensive and I didn’t have that kind of money. I also couldn’t be seen on the city bus with the outfit I had on and the way I was looking—stunning.
It was early in the evening. I had a date with Macky. We finally talked and he wanted to take me out somewhere nice in the city. He volunteered to pick me up from my building, but I turned down the offer. The last thing I needed was muthafuckas being in my business, and I didn’t want Search to know about my date.
I wanted to show off my body and well-toned legs, so I decided to wear this sexy and sensational sexy mini dress that featured a halter-style silhouette with the plunging cowl neckline, along with flattering side-ruched skirted bottom and embellished bodice, and an open back with jewel accents that added a little something extra to my style. It only cost me forty dollars off the Internet. I sported a pair of high heels that made my defined legs stretch to the heavens. I definitely didn’t look eighteen.
I got on the 5 train and I was already turning heads. I wasn’t worried about any trouble coming my way; I held my clutch tightly and inside was a .22 pistol. It was easy to conceal and lethal. I had enemies out there and couldn’t be caught slipping. The train wasn’t crowded for a Friday evening. I took a seat near the door, crossed my legs, and minded my business. This creepy old guy who was sitting opposite of me kept giving me these chilling looks. I guess he liked what he saw, but I was way out of his league. The way he looked at me I felt was impolite. I mean, you can glance, nigga, but don’t stare and drool too hard.
I rolled my eyes and smirked. He kept staring at me. I was starting to become uncomfortable.
“You have a problem wit’ ya fuckin’ eyes?” I asked the old man with contempt.
“No. I just think you are a really beautiful woman. It’s like heaven came down to earth to bless up with a moment of bliss,” he returned with his toothless smile.
He made me smile after hearing that. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I’m having a wonderful night just by looking at you.”
I chuckled. His appearance was shabby and dirty, but his mannerism was priceless. I gave him a quick show by slowly uncrossing and crossing my legs, giving him a glimpse of the pink G-string I had on. It was for charity. He smiled even harder and his eyes bulged out from his head.
He got off at the next stop. The old man’s eyes weren’t the only set of eyes watching me. I guess they couldn’t help themselves. It was true beauty in front of them. I huffed, though, because not all attention was good attention. It was going to be a long train ride to the Midtown area. I was supposed to meet Macky at Pe
nn Station. Before I left, I called and told him that I was on my way. He still insisted that he’d drive to the Bronx to come get me; it wasn’t out of his way. I declined.
It was after seven p.m. when I exited the train station on Thirty-fourth Street, Penn Station. It was exhausting coming from the BX and transferring trains to get to my destination, but I was finally here. I moved behind the crowd in the major intercity train station and a major commuter rail hub in the city and emerged into the bustling, concrete jungle. Thirty-fourth Street, like always, was noisy and busy. The towering buildings seemed to reach the clouds and the people were always so busy coming and going that they wouldn’t know if the world was ending.
I immediately got on my cell phone, dialed Macky’s number, and began looking around for him. I was lost in the crowd, but I stood out in my sexy attire. I became a distraction for the men, and a few ladies who passed by me. Their eyes without delay shifted either from their girlfriends or Smart phones on to me. I heard someone utter out, “Damn!”
Sorry fellows, I was someone else’s date for the evening. And if I told them that I was only eighteen, they probably wouldn’t even believe me. From the sexy attire to the makeup I wore, I looked to be in my mid-twenties.
“Hello,” Macky answered.
“Yeah, I’m here, I just walked out of Penn Station. Where are you?” I asked him.
“I’m double-parked across the street. I’m in a silver white Jaguar XF,” he said.
He was driving around in a Jaguar. It had to be a nice car. I moved through the crowd toward Eighth Avenue and looked deeply for the car he had described. I spotted Macky in seconds. He was standing outside his car looking around for me. We saw each other. He waved me over. I smiled and said to myself, “Damn!” He was looking fine and his vehicle was nice! The car was a four-door sedan with a permanent sunroof and had the best aerodynamically designed body.
I waited for the heavy traffic to pass. The yellow cabs ruled the Manhattan streets. They were some crazy-ass drivers who always seemed to try to hit you purposely. When the light was red and traffic stopped, I strutted Macky’s way. It seemed like he couldn’t wait to wrap his arms around me. He was smiling greatly and looking good in a white V-neck T-shirt, a pair of boot-cut denim jeans and white Nikes. His dreads were flowing, his dark skin gleaming like the moon, and the only jewelry he wore was a white gold Rolex and diamond-studded earrings.
La Familia Page 12
