The Black Diamond Trilogy

by Brittani Williams

  “There she goes, right there. I’m glad that fucking store is burning.”

  “Yes, keep the drugs off of our block!”

  I didn’t respond. I didn’t even turn around to see who said what. It didn’t matter. I knew how they felt—I felt that way once. I lived in a neighborhood full of drug dealers and crackheads, and I hated it. So I’m sure people would wonder how I could grow up and fall into the same line of work. Well, the answer is pretty simple: money. Money was my motivation and after all that I’d been through there wasn’t any other job out there for me. I saw Black, JB, and a few other workers in a huddle near the corner. I walked over.

  “What are you doing here?” he yelled.

  “I had to see the store for myself.”

  “You don’t need to be here.” He grabbed me by the arm so we could walk away from the workers.

  “Yes, I do, Black, it’s my store.”

  “Okay, now that you’ve seen it, you can go home.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Why do you have to be so stubborn? Just go home and I’ll take care of it.”

  I stood there silent. I wanted to believe that he could but I wasn’t so sure looking at the building burning to the ground. Whoever it was definitely wasn’t going to stop until we were both out of the picture. I wasn’t going to stand out there in front of everyone and argue with him so I agreed to leave and quietly headed toward my car. I was angry. Not at Kemp or Black but at myself for letting this happen. I got in the car and looked around to see if I saw anyone suspicious. Who the hell was I looking for? For some reason, I still hoped I’d see Kemp. At least that way we’d know who to look for. I didn’t really think they’d be stupid enough to hang around the scene but shit, that could be cockiness too. If it were Kemp, he knew we’d never turn him into the cops after what I’d done to him and Mica and if it wasn’t him we wouldn’t know where to start pointing the finger anyway. I was paranoid. I started the car to drive home. I had to clear my head. I couldn’t live the rest of my life looking over my shoulders wondering when someone was going to kill me. I had to focus on something else so that I could move on with my life. Black wouldn’t let anything happen to me. He promised me that and I had to believe him. I had to obtain that thug mentality that men have, the one that sheds all of the fear. I had to learn the tricks of the trade if I wanted to make it in this business.

  Chapter twenty-nine

  Black

  Mind over Matter

  “So what’s the next move?” JB stared at me, waiting to hear something. I didn’t know what the next move was. How can I know what to do to a nigga that’s supposed to be dead? And then, what if it wasn’t him after all? I’d be wasting time looking for him and someone else could catch me off guard. I wasn’t trying to get caught slipping. I had to figure this shit out.

  “Let’s go to the house, I don’t want to stand out here and talk,” I replied before turning to walk toward the car. I honestly wanted some time to think. Being alone on the drive would hopefully help me decide what I was supposed to do next.

  “Cool, meet you there in twenty minutes.”

  I got in my car and headed toward the safe house. I didn’t even turn the music on. I was too deep in thought. I had to either figure out what their next move was or wait for them to slip up and reveal their identity. I knew Kemp like the back of my hand and with enough thought I knew I could figure him out. But an unknown assailant wouldn’t be that easy. Shit was just going as planned. I had snagged the woman I wanted. Diamond was the perfect woman with the business and respect to go along with it. I was turning into the king that I worked hard to become. I’d be damned if I was going to let a muthafucker come in and snatch it away from me. The ride seemed longer than normal since my mind was completely occupied. Everything was moving in slow motion. Diamond kept calling my cell but each time it rang, I sent it to voicemail. I couldn’t talk to her right at that moment—shit, I didn’t know what to say. I had promised her that I would protect her and now it didn’t look like I could. She was always so dramatic so I knew that it would turn into a long, drawn-out episode and I wasn’t in the mood for the soap opera shit right then.

  JB, Tommy, and Kenyon were waiting outside when I pulled up at the safe house. Like three soldiers they stood waiting for orders. With three totally different personalities and all from different backgrounds, they made the perfect army. JB was from uptown, an only child whose only parent was the TV. Most times he’d steal from the corner stores to eat. His mother had been locked up for armed robbery since he was seven and at ten he moved in with his drug-addicted aunt. Getting high was her main concern so her children were forced to grow up long before their time. JB refused to go back to foster care so he struggled to keep things in order when the social workers would come to visit. He met Kemp when he was seventeen while trying to get into the drug game. Kemp noticed his potential and quickly took him under his wing. Tommy was from West Philly and what I’d call a loose cannon. Tommy came from a two-parent middle-class home but stayed in so much trouble he was put in the youth study center at fifteen. He was released after his eighteenth birthday right into the arms of Kemp. Tommy didn’t know any other way to survive since he had a criminal record. The fast life grabbed ahold of him and hadn’t let him go ever since.

  Last there was Kenyon—the brains is what I’d call him. He was much smarter than the average nigga and that alone made him the deadliest of them all. A single mother who always showed him the importance of education raised him. Yes, in school he was the nigga with straight As, but if you picked a fight with him, instead of fighting you he’d come up with a plan for you to hurt yourself more than he ever could. He got drafted into the game because of that. See, most of the niggas in the game will shoot first and ask questions later. Fuckin’ with Kenyon, you’d put the gun to your temple and blow your own fuckin’ brains out. He could say the slickest shit to get in your head and have you second-guessing everything you’d ever learned. He threw me for a loop when I first met him because he always kicked that intellectual shit. I wondered how a nigga so smart could end up selling drugs. But the craziest part of it all is how he had just as much if not more money than Kemp and had never touched the drugs that got him there.

  I parked and sat in the car for a few seconds before getting out. I wanted to build the suspense. I knew that they were wondering what I had planned.

  “Yo’, what’s the deal, man? Who are we going to war with?” JB asked as soon as I stepped out of the car.

  “Let’s go inside,” I responded, before walking toward the door.

  We all walked inside the house. I was still silent. I knew as soon as I told them who I thought was doing everything they were going to go crazy. They’d never understand why, so I had to think hard on how I’d reveal my thoughts.

  “So who burned down the store?” Tommy asked, while taking a seat at the kitchen table.

  I stood there and stared at them. They all stared back, waiting to hear my response. They were like children in a classroom waiting to be taught. “Kemp,” I answered in a low tone, hoping that they wouldn’t hear me.

  “Kemp? What the hell do you mean? He’s dead!” Kenyon yelled immediately. I knew what reaction I was going to get from him. He was the type that didn’t believe shit stunk unless you put it right under his nose.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too but we got this strange note that points to him and now this shit with Diamond and the store. In my heart, I know he’s dead but the note makes me question that,” I replied, hoping that I wouldn’t have to go any further.

  “What note? What did it say?” Tommy stood up and stared at me, probably wondering why I hadn’t revealed the note sooner.

  “There was a note sent to the office saying that he hoped Diamond enjoyed the past few months.” I conveniently left out the part about checking his pulse. I wasn’t ready to reveal the fact that Diamond had shot him. I didn’t know how they would react if they’d found out and I didn’t w
ant to take that chance. They had all grown to respect her as their boss, but they would most likely feel betrayed if they knew the true facts of that night. How could they trust the person that robbed them of not only their leader but their friend? If it weren’t for me, they would have probably all went separate ways, but I convinced them to stay on board. To find out what she’d done and then to know that I knew and did nothing about it, would only make things worse. I couldn’t risk it. Especially when I didn’t know who was out to get us. Every time I convinced myself it couldn’t be him something inside made me think it was. The letter, to me, meant that someone was there and knew what went down. I didn’t believe it myself at first and I probably wouldn’t know if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.

  “What the hell does that mean? Why would he say some shit like? It doesn’t make sense. We all know Kemp’s dead, man—I was there. Why do you think it’s him when you were right there with me? ” Tommy asked with a puzzled look on his face.

  “That can’t be it and there has to be something that you’re not telling us. Nothing you just said makes sense.” Kenyon was seeing right through me but I had to keep it cool. I wasn’t about to tell them the truth no matter how hard they pushed.

  “I don’t know what it is, Kenyon, all I know is someone is trying to take me and her under. I can’t let that shit go down like that.”

  They all sat quiet and confused. If it were Kemp, how was I supposed to convince them to go to war with the man that helped them all get to where they were today? In reality, Kemp had helped us all. I waited for one of them to speak but they didn’t. I didn’t know what else to say. What I did know was that I wasn’t going down without a fight and I damn sure wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Diamond.

  “So what are we going to do?” JB broke the five-minute silence that followed my last reply. Both Kenyon and Tommy turned to look at him with the stare of death. They had definitely always been loyal to Kemp and with just the thought of him being alive they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Would they remain loyal to him or me, the nigga that was currently keeping their pockets fat if it turned out to be Kemp?

  “What the fuck do you mean we? Nigga, I’m not doing shit until I know who the fuck I’m fighting. If it’s Kemp, why the hell should I be fighting? His beef ain’t wit’ me,” Tommy blurted out loud as he stood up from the chair that he was sitting in. JB stood up as well and was now standing face-to-face with Kenyon.

  “So you just gonna bail out on Black after all the shit he’s done? That’s some sucka shit.”

  “Man, fuck you, I’m far from a sucka,” he yelled back at JB, pointing in his face. I could see where things were heading so I stepped in the middle to try and calm them both down.

  “Look, I know where you’re coming from and I don’t expect you to go to war with Kemp, but I gotta do what I gotta do. I’m not gonna just lay down and get killed,” I said after they both sat back down. “Do what you have to, man, all of you, and I’ll do the same.” I turned my back and headed toward the door. As I was climbing into the car JB ran out to stop me.

  “Yo’ Black!” he yelled before reaching the rear of the car.

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m wit’ you all the way, I just want you to know that I got your back.”

  “I appreciate that, man, and I’ll get up with you later. I have to go check on D.” I reached out and gave him dap before getting into the car. He stood there facing me. I noticed Kenyon and Tommy standing at the door, watching. Now, not only did I have to worry about Kemp or some unknown killer, I had to worry about them too. Their loyalty was definitely to him and that wouldn’t change. Even though they were working for me, to them, if Kemp were here I’d still be a worker just like them. Thinking back, I’d always been loyal to Kemp even if it got me caught up. One situation in particular showed just how loyal I was. It was 1995 and I had just gotten my first car. Shit, I was so happy you couldn’t smack the smile off my face. It was a dark blue Acura Integra. I thought I was the shit! I was driving through all of the neighborhoods where the chicks were slower than the speed limit just to be seen. I had my Jay-Z, Reasonable Doubt, CD blasting as I bobbed my head with one hand on the steering wheel. Of course I’d purchased it courtesy of drug money. I hadn’t been in the game very long but I vowed to purchase myself a car as soon as I got enough money to afford one. Kemp and Kenyon were standing on the corner in front of Papi’s, the Puerto Rican store that we would get all of our candy and whatever else we needed. I pulled up slowly and rolled down the window.

  “What’s up, niggas?” I said loudly to make sure that I gained their attention. Kemp had his back turned but eased off of the car he was sitting on when he heard my voice. He was now facing me with a big smile on his face.

  “I see you couldn’t wait to spend that money, nigga. I like it. You trying to be a mini-version of me or something?” He burst into laughter. Kenyon joined in.

  “Come on now, you know damn well I ain’t tryna be you. You got too many hos with contracts on you.” I grinned and pointed at him as he stood there laughing but underneath you could tell the comment rubbed him the wrong way. He definitely didn’t find that funny. He’d screwed so many women over, one of them was bound to shoot his ass one of these days, I thought. I put on the hazard lights and opened the door to get out of the car. I couldn’t believe it myself. Shit, I looked cleaner than the board of health riding around in that car. Kemp walked over and gave me dap as Kenyon followed up.

  “This shit clean, nigga, you lucky I like you ’cause I’d jack your ass for this one,” Kemp laughed.

  “Yo’ Kenyon, I’ma take a ride with him. I gotta holler at him about something. Meet me at the crib around six.”

  “All right,” he replied before Kemp motioned for me to get back in the car. I didn’t know what the hell he had to talk to me about but the look on his face told me that whatever it was he was going to make me listen—whether I wanted to or not.

  Kemp got in the car and looked around without speaking. I did the same while I waited to see what it was he had to say.

  “So what’s the deal?” I asked, finally breaking the silence. He turned to look at me with a stare that said if looks could kill I’d be dead.

  “You need to take this car back”

  “Take it back? Why?” I was instantly pissed. I definitely respected Kemp and was appreciative for all that he’d done but he wasn’t my father.

  “It’ll get too much attention.”

  “You’re driving around in a BMW so why is that any different?”

  “Because you gotta crawl before you walk. Shit, last week your ass was on the bus—now you got an Acura. If you want to have longevity in this game you have to use your head. I’m successful because I’m smart and you can be too if you play your cards right.”

  “So where are we going?” I asked changing the subject.

  “Yo’, did you hear what I just said?” His tone changed from one of concern to one of anger.

  “Yeah, man, I heard you. I’ll take it back and get something else.” I was pissed but without this game I wouldn’t be able to afford it anyway. I already knew that there wasn’t any negotiating with him. Once his mind was made up there wasn’t anything that could change it.

  “Pull over!” he yelled. I wasn’t even at a complete stop before he jumped out of the car, pulled out his gun, and ran over to a group of guys on the corner. A few of them scattered immediately. Two men remained and stood frozen. I jumped out the car and pulled out my gun just in case something popped off.

  “Where’s my money, nigga?” Kemp yelled with the gun against the man’s chin. The man’s name was Jojo. Jojo was a local Jamaican hustler who purchased weight from Kemp. Leading up to that day, Jojo hadn’t been paying up, claiming that there had been a recent drop in sales. It was a bullshit story because one of his workers had recently told Kemp all about what he did with his money. The informant told Kemp how Jojo would take the product that he got on consignment, cu
t it in half—lowering the purity—and then doubled the price. He was making damn near triple what he’d have to pay Kemp for the original product. After Kemp heard about it, he stopped letting him get any more cocaine until he paid the back money he owed. Three months had passed since the last payment and this particular day was the first time he’d seen him since.

  “I don’t have it yet, man. Shit is still slow around here,” Jojo replied while the other man stood still as a statue.

  “Do you think I’m a fool? I’ll shoot your ass dead right where you stand. Don’t fuck with me, where’s the money?” He started patting him down while still holding the gun just under his chin. He retrieved a wad of money from one of his pockets. “What do we have here? Looks like money to me, muthafucker,” he yelled before hitting Jojo on the side of the head with the gun. Blood instantly poured from his temple. Some of the excess splashed onto Kemp’s fresh white T-shirt.

  “I’m sorry, man, I need that money to feed my family. I promise I’ll pay up. Just give me another week.”

  “Feeding your family sounds like a personal problem. Nigga, you owe me. I’m going to take this as a down payment now but I want the rest of my money by Friday.” He moved closer to Jojo and forced part of the gun up his nose. Jojo was damn near crying as his friend still stood behind him, not saying a word. “And if I don’t have my money, next time your head won’t be the only thing bleeding.”