Soft: Cocaine Love Stories

by Styles, T.

  Lion figured he had taught Bless well, and he was about the only person on the outside he could trust, so he had instructed him to meet with an associate of his that owed him a favor. That favor was to be converted to cash and then used to retain an attorney for Lion.

  Bless met with the dude, and he hit him with ten kilos of uncut cocaine. He had started getting rid of it with good intentions, but temptation was a pretty bitch that he found irresistible. Needless to say, Bless fucked up and didn’t do as he was supposed to. Having all that weight had blown his mind.

  He got bigheaded and decided to dead Lion on the proceeds. Bless conjured up a lie about the police running up in his spot and confiscating the work and all the money he made off it. He gave Lion the mumbo jumbo story and promised him he would make it right when he got back on his feet.

  Whether or not Lion went for it, Bless wasn’t really concerned. He thought he was safe because Lion was locked up. He figured that nigga was finished without the lawyer money, so he wasn’t even afraid. The first thing he did was go on a shopping spree and cop a brand new Mercedes.

  Now he realized how ignorant it was of him to not move his family out of the projects after he had crossed one of the most feared and respected men in the borough. If anything happened to them, it was his own fault. All the bread he ran through, he could’ve bought his mother a house down South or something. But due to poor money management in the past, now he couldn’t even afford to relocate them across town.

  Bless snapped back to reality. He realized once again that he didn’t have a solution for the hole he had dug himself in. He was up shit’s creek without a paddle. He needed a lifeline. The first person he thought to call was his man, Jeff. Hopefully he could assist him somehow. There was really nobody else he could turn to. Bless was known for his flamboyance, so most of the other dudes he knew were praying for his downfall.

  Meanwhile, across town, Bless’s closest friend, Jeff, and his girlfriend, Jill, were just ending their third round of make-up sex. The little argument they had wasn’t even that serious, but Jill was pregnant and extra sensitive at the time. She took everything Jeff said to heart, so he found himself apologizing pretty often. But all the make-up sex they had been having was amazing.

  Jill’s legs were wrapped around Jeff while she caressed his back and shoulders. They had just climaxed together. He was still lying on top of her breathing heavily when the telephone rang. It was as if the caller had timed their lovemaking and gave them time to finish doing the do. Jill looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Jeff’s main man, Bless.

  She knew he and Jeff were tight, but Bless was an asshole. He was always trying to use Jeff for something—not to mention the fact that he gave her best friend, Taj, an STD. Jill couldn’t stand his conniving, cheating ass, so she purposely ignored the call. When Jeff asked her who it was, she lied and said it was her bestie, Taj, and she would call her back.

  Ensconced in that warm, pregnant pussy, he was glad she said that. It felt so good he almost fell asleep in it. He rolled over and held her in his arms. For some reason, Jeff was moved to tell Jill how much he loved her and how much she meant to him. He didn’t say shit like that all the time, so it came from his heart. He apologized again for hurting her feelings.

  She was so emotional during her pregnancy. She started crying and told him she loved him, too, and didn’t want him to leave her. Jeff laughed and told her he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Jill let it go, but she didn’t believe he would leave her voluntarily. Bless’s phone call had just left her feeling uneasy for some reason. She had the feeling he was up to no good—probably because he usually was. It seemed like every time Jeff messed with him, he got tangled up in some shit. Jill hugged her man tighter and didn’t bother to voice her concerns. If she didn’t say them aloud, maybe they would disappear.

  Jill was a good girl. She and Jeff were from different worlds, so they had different views about survival, but they also had a love stronger than she’d ever experienced. She believed love conquered all, so she went against her mother, father, and just about all her girlfriends to be with him. And he was really trying. He had been on the right track lately, but they still referred to him as Jill’s reformed thug with all the baby mamas—just because Jeff had a past and a couple of kids already.

  No matter what they said, she and Jeff were a team. It was them against the world. They had been an item for three years and were recently engaged. With the child they had on the way, they were going to be the beautiful family she’d always dreamed about. Jill wasn’t about to let anybody come between them.

  At home, Bless was disappointed that Jeff hadn’t answered the phone. He was pacing the floor and contemplating going over to his crib. He knew the nigga was indoors that time of night. Jeff was so pussy whipped, he had basically let his girl, Jill, put him on a curfew. Or at least it seemed that way. Bless knew they were at home, but they must’ve been asleep. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve respected that, but he was in dire straits. His situation was life or death, and he didn’t know what to do yet. That’s why he needed Jeff’s assistance.

  Bless knew it was fucked up to involve Jeff in his shit because he didn’t have anything to do with it. Jeff didn’t even benefit from that work he stole from Lion. He was incarcerated during that time. Bless had told him what the deal was when he visited him once, and he couldn’t front—back then Jeff had told him it was unwise to cross a person of Lion’s caliber.

  So now there he was, desperate. He had to do something. He needed Jeff’s help, but he didn’t want to tell him how his chickens had come home to roost. He wasn’t in the mood to hear “I told you so.” Bless already knew what a tangled web he had weaved. He didn’t need another mothafucka to remind him.

  Frustrated because he didn’t have a solution, Bless got his gun. He peeked in on his mother and baby sister to make sure they were okay, and then he whispered a little prayer. Bless headed outside to get a cab. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew his problem wouldn’t just solve itself.

  On the elevator ride down, he prayed there weren’t any nosy mothafuckas outside. He was pretty ashamed of the fact that he didn’t have his whip. He usually pulled off stunting with the music bumping. He knew that car didn’t make him, but he felt naked without his shit. The lyrics of that Kanye West song “Self-Conscious” ran through his mind.

  There were a few people outside, so Bless nodded at dudes. He walked down to the next corner and flagged a cab. He told the driver to take him to Crown Heights, where Jeff stayed. As he rode in the taxi past the streetlights of his Brooklyn neighborhood, Bed-Stuy, the furrow in his brow got deeper and deeper. He wore a pretty grim expression, so you could definitely tell he was stressed. He was in the hole up to his eyeballs. That nigga Lion wanted his bread.

  Bless was no punk. He had a lot of pride, and he was no sucker. His gun went off, and niggas knew that. He wasn’t the same little Bless that nigga Lion once knew. He was known for getting busy, and he was pretty well respected in his hood. He toyed with the idea of just killing that mothafucka. Word. He should just go pop that nigga and get his shit back. He was in the back of a fucking cab! He couldn’t believe it. He needed his damn car. He had an image to uphold, and his reputation was at stake.

  Bless knew Lion wouldn’t be easy to eliminate. He was a different type of opponent. Lion had a reputation too. He was ruthless. His government name was Richard Jamison, but he had been dubbed Richard the Lionhearted. Lion was an abbreviation of that.

  Bless had heard about some of the ill fates that dudes who fucked him over faced. That was why he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tango. He would never say it aloud, but Lion had him under pressure.

  The more he thought about it, he knew he had to straighten that shit out. It was about honor too. That was a sucker move he had pulled, but he was young at the time. He’d never had that much money before.

  Lion’s return was totally unexpected. Bless was unprepared and caught off gu
ard. Out of sheer desperation, Bless considered robbing someone. He didn’t have any better ideas. As he rode down Utica Avenue, he passed a well-known, busy drug corner. There was always heavy traffic there. Them Jamaican niggas over there was getting it. It was known throughout the borough. That corner was Crack Central.

  While his cab was at a red light, he watched an apparent drug and money exchange between a hustler and a fiend. Bless thought about putting the drop on them niggas. It was real enticing, but he knew chances of getting away with that on foot were slim. There was no way those dudes were out there getting money like that without being strapped. Bless didn’t have a death wish. To run up on them niggas he needed an accomplice. He needed Jeff to hold him down.

  The light changed, and the cabbie drove down the street. The closer Bless got to Jeff’s house, the more he thought about it. There was a lot of bread on that corner, and he knew Jeff wouldn’t be with it. He decided to take his chances.

  Bless told the driver to let him out at the next corner. After he paid the fare, he headed back down to Utica on foot. “Some fuckin’ body in trouble,” he muttered. He was on the prowl.

  Bless could always tell who was holding. He knew what the bank looked like. It was like a sixth sense. He formulated his plan as he walked down the dark street. When he spotted the jackpot, he would lay everything down in his path to get it.

  A block and a half away, he peeped a dude walking ahead of him with a small duffel bag. He was headed toward the corner. Bless’s sixth sense told him that that bag was full of loot. If he had stumbled upon a come-up while in search of one, then the cards were on his side. His heart raced with nervous anticipation.

  The dude’s back was to him, so he didn’t see him approaching. Bless pulled out his gun and quickened his pace, anxious not to blow the opportunity. Without a second thought, he stuck his ratchet in the small of duke’s back and told him to release the fucking bag.

  Robbing duke wasn’t easy. He didn’t surrender peacefully. The nigga was unarmed, but he fought back and held on to that bag like his life depended on it. Bless wouldn’t take no for an answer. He needed that money too bad. He was forced to clap that nigga.

  After that bullet pierced his chest, the dude finally gave up the bag. As he lay there clutching his chest and bleeding on the concrete, Bless went through his pockets and confiscated his keys and cell phone. After that, it crossed his mind that he should finish him. He told himself another bullet would only make matters worse. He didn’t want to make a stickup a homicide. The nigga was already shot. That being said, he stuck his gun in his waist and trotted in the other direction.

  Bless looked over his shoulder a few times to make sure nobody was following him. As far as he could see, the coast was clear. He kept going and wished that nigga luck.

  Three blocks down, Bless dipped around a corner and removed the dark T-shirt he had on. Now wearing just a wife beater and a pair of navy blue Polo sweats, he sort of appeared to be coming from the gym after a late night workout. He casually walked down to the next corner so he could find a taxi.

  Bless got lucky and flagged a cab within seconds. After he settled inside and gave the driver his destination, he got down low in the back seat until they pulled up in front of his building. When he realized he was home, he smiled to himself. He had never been happier to see his projects.

  Bless made a quick lick and thought that was that, but contrary to his beliefs, it was far from over. He had robbed the wrong nigga—and what he stole wasn’t even money. That bag was filled with cocaine—seven whole kilos of it, and it didn’t even belong to the dude he stuck. It belonged to his boss, Butch, a notorious crime lord who reigned over the streets of Brooklyn with an iron fist.

  When Bless finally made it upstairs to his apartment, he deadbolted the door and then peeped out the window to make sure no one had followed him. When he was sure the coast was clear, he locked himself in his bedroom and unzipped the bag. He dumped the contents on the bed, expecting it to be filled with bread. When he realized it was full of what appeared to be taped-up packages of cocaine, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Damn, what the fuck?

  Bless was so excited he was shaking. He used a small pocketknife he had in his nightstand drawer to tear a slit in one of the packages, and then he licked his finger and stuck it inside. His forefinger came out coated with a pale, powdery substance. It looked like some good shit too. Bless put it to his mouth and tasted it to be sure.

  Immediately, the powder numbed his tongue. Oh shit, he thought. He knew the taste of cocaine. It was official tissue. Bless carried the open package over to the computer desk in the corner of his bedroom and poured a small pile of the coke onto the desk. He hurriedly switched on the desk lamp and closely examined his stolen booty.

  Oh shit, it was Fishscale! It was love at first sight. He nearly fell back in his chair. “No mothafuckin’ way!” he yelled. He jumped up and danced a little two-step jig and thanked his lucky stars for the come-up. Fishscale cocaine! It was fucking Fishscale!

  Fishscale was no ordinary coke. It was a refined and comparatively pure form of cocaine, and its description was inspired by its shiny and reflective properties. It was the highest quality cocaine you could find, usually uncut. It didn’t even look like regular coke. It was flaky instead of grainy, it was sparkly instead of dull, and it was slightly yellow-grey instead of being plain white. Enough said. It was the good shit—the best. One gram equaled twelve lines.

  Bless danced over to the other packages. He picked them all up and held them close to his heart. His chest swelled. He had never been in love that way before. That was the prettiest “girl” he had ever seen. He was absolutely smitten.

  The best thing about the situation was the fact that the street value of his newfound fortune was worth more than he owed Lion. He could actually pay that nigga off and still profit. If he did things the right way, he would be set. That was so much work, he wouldn’t even look back. He swore to himself he would never be fucked up again.

  Bless knew he had to move that shit fast—at least some of it—just to get Lion’s bread. He needed a quarter million by the end of the week, so he was going to need some assistance. He searched his mental rolodex and thought about his man Jeff again. He and Jeff were old cronies who at one point in time were inseparable. Former partners in crime, the two of them had run the streets together for years. They had done a ton of dirt, and neither ever said a word. Jeff was the only nigga he knew he could trust, so that was who he had to get at.

  Jeff had recently taken a graceful bow out of the underworld. His sudden switch to square-dom was credited to some premonition he said his girl had—that, and the fact that she was pregnant. Bless hated to get Jeff involved in his bullshit, but he didn’t know what else to do. He knew Jeff would help him if he could. And not for nothing, that nigga could use some extra bread too.

  Bless started to call him again, but he didn’t like playing the phone like that. He preferred to discuss business or anything else relevant in person, not on the jack. He decided to get at him the following day. He put away all the goods and rolled himself a blunt. He opted to chill that night and get some rest.

  At six o’clock the next morning, Bless awakened and took a quick shower. He got dressed fast and selected a matching fitted cap. He grabbed his gun on the way out—just in case—and then he rode the elevator downstairs and got another cab.

  When he got out in front of Jeff’s building, he headed inside. When he reached his apartment, he rang the doorbell.

  After a minute, Jeff’s pregnant girlfriend, Jill, answered the door. The look on her face said he wasn’t welcome.

  Bless wondered what her problem was. Jill was so stuck-up; he wasn’t that fond of her either. Nonetheless, he greeted her respectfully because she was his bro’s wife. Jill nodded at him and pursed her lips. “How can I help you? Do you know what time it is? We were still asleep. Jeff has to get up soon to get ready for work.”

  Bless was displeased to hear
that. He never imagined himself or Jeff getting a nine-to-five. He wondered if Jill had some type of root on that nigga or something. She made him do a complete 360. In the past, he and Jeff did crime together and time together, so his change of life had broken Bless’s heart. But Bless knew Jeff was a loyal dude. If he told him he needed him, he would show up without hesitation. That was how they did.

  Bless told Jill he needed her to wake Jeff up. He said it was important. She looked like she didn’t want to, but she opened the door and told him to come in. She told him to have a seat and passed him the remote. She was pretty pregnant, so she wobbled down the hall to get Jeff.

  Bless turned on the huge TV that was mounted on the wall and flicked the channel to BET. He watched a rerun of The Game while he waited on his homie to appear. A few minutes later, Jeff came out to the living room. Bless stood up and greeted him with a hearty pound. The men had a seat on the sofa, and Bless began to clown Jeff about the new gig he had.

  Jeff laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Son, it is what it is. I got a seed on the way. Those Pampers and shit cost bread, son. That shit we was doin’, I can’t live that life no more. Wifey got me this gig. I was fucked up.”

  Bless quit joking and said, “I know, son. My back been against the wall too. That’s why I came.” He looked around to make sure Jill wasn’t within earshot and said, “Son, I got a proposition for you. I need you this one last time.”

  Jeff’s instinct told him not to get involved. He had been through enough shit fucking with Bless. He was a changed man now. But being the good dude he was, he ignored the warning bells that went off and heard his homie out.

  Bless proceeded to hit Jeff with a fabricated version of the prior night’s events. “Yo, son, I found some work. This nigga was runnin’ from the police and I seen him toss this bag, so I doubled backe and picked that shit up. I got like four birds, son—Fishscale.” For some reason, Bless purposely understated the amount of kilos he had.