Back to the Streets

by Treasure Hernandez

  “Did you pay the club owner for the party?” Jamaica Joe asked Malek as they pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

  “Yeah, I took care of it,” Malek replied as he parked his brand-new Lincoln Navigator. “Quit worrying about that mu’fuckin’ party, fam. Everything is in line for this weekend.”

  Jamaica Joe and Malek exited the car and headed into Applebee’s.

  Halleigh stopped in her tracks as Malek crossed her path.

  Malek noticed her, and a sense of jealousy overtook him as he saw her standing so intimately with Maury. He looked Maury up and down, and Maury returned his stare as he checked his hip to make sure he was strapped.

  Halleigh’s breath caught in her throat as Malek approached.

  Maury leaned over and whispered, “You know this nigga?”

  Halleigh nodded, but didn’t say a word. She couldn’t take her eyes off Malek. He looked so different. He’d put on some weight, and his demeanor was hard. Tears welled up in her eyes as she put her head down and began to walk with Maury past Malek.

  Malek reached out and grabbed her hand as she passed. “Hal, can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

  Halleigh looked back and forth between Maury and Malek.

  Maury thought he recognized Malek from the couple of times he’d seen him on television back in the day. He just looked so different, but Maury still had a hunch that the dude standing before him was Malek Johnson, Halleigh’s ex-boyfriend. She’d told Maury a lot about their situation. He leaned down and whispered, “Handle your business, shorty. I’m right in the car if you need me.” He squeezed her hand in support and lifted her head with his fingertips before he turned to walk away.

  Jamaica Joe nodded his head toward the restaurant. “I’m inside, fam,” he told Malek.

  Malek nodded, never taking his eyes off Halleigh.

  The last time Halleigh had seen Malek, he was down with the nigga that had raped her. Coldness immediately filled her heart. “What, Malek?”

  Malek eyed Maury’s car. “That’s your nigga?”

  “You know what, Malek? I don’t have time for this. After everything we’ve been through, that’s the first thing you ask me?” Halleigh turned to leave.

  “A’ight, a’ight, Hal, wait. You’re right. That’s not my business.” Malek looked at her appearance. The last time he’d seen her, her body was deteriorating from drug use, but now she looked good. She was back to the Halleigh he’d fallen in love with, and although there was a lost look in her eyes, she was still very attractive. She had picked her weight back up and was filling up her designer jeans better than ever. She looked healthy, and had transformed from a beautiful girl to a young woman.

  “I see you still fucking around with the niggas that raped me,” she stated.

  “Look, that’s handled already.”

  Halleigh was silent as she stared at Malek.

  “I heard about your nigga, Manolo. You good? You need some money or something?” Malek pulled a wad of cash out of his pockets.

  “I don’t need your money, Malek. Or your pity. I needed you.” A tear fell from her eyes. She quickly brushed it away as she began to walk away.

  “Halleigh, I’m trying to be here now,” he said, halting her in her step.

  “How do you know I want you here now?”

  “Look, I know you feeling that nigga.” Malek nodded toward Maury’s truck. “I know you. I can see it in your face, Hal. But you don’t love that nigga the way that you love me. You know what we got. I’m trying to make it work with you.”

  “I’ve got to go, Malek,” Halleigh whispered. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. Malek was right. She did love him. He did know her, but she didn’t know if they could ever get past all of their demons to make a relationship work.

  “Can we talk later?” she asked. She knew that they needed to talk, but she needed the right words to say. Right now, she was simply running on emotion.

  Malek pulled out a VIP pass to Jamaica Joe’s party and handed it to Halleigh. “Come by Celebrations this weekend for Joe’s going-away party. Things are about to change in Flint, Hal. The nigga leaving everything to me. We’ll do it big Saturday night, and we’ll talk later that night. I’m trying to see you, Hal. Don’t stand me up.”

  “I won’t,” she answered with a weak smile.

  “I love you, ma,” Malek whispered. “You know I do.”

  “No, I don’t know, Malek. We’ll talk later,” she replied before walking back to Maury’s car.

  Halleigh hopped into the car and stared out of the window at Malek. She didn’t know what to do regarding him. He had hurt her to the point where she thought she couldn’t live without him, but now here he was in her face, confessing his undying love.

  “Don’t let the nigga break your heart, Halleigh,” Maury stated as he started his car and pulled away. “You’re too good for that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lynch, the leader of the infamous Shotta Boyz, passed the Dutch to Sweets as they sat in the front seat of Lynch’s Toyota Camry. The haze of the blunt filled the insides of the car, and the two were beyond high as they plotted their murder game.

  “You know that bitch nigga Joe leaving town. The grimy mu’fucka know what he got coming to him. That’s why he trying to skip out,” Lynch stated. “He’s throwing a going-away party down at Celebrations. A nigga like me trying to fall up in there just to light the mu’fucka up, nah mean?”

  Sweets knew that Lynch was still out to avenge the death of his brother. Jamaica Joe had shot him at point-blank range a year ago, and Lynch had been trying to see Joe ever since. Jamaica Joe was hard to touch, however. He ran the North Side of Flint and stayed on point at all times. He had an army of young soldiers who were willing to protect him at all costs, making it hard for Lynch to get his revenge.

  “Nah, fam, I got that handled. The only thing we got to do is sit back and listen to the gunshots ring out. The nigga Joe ain’t ever gon’ make it out of Flint. Him and his li’l nigga Malek gon’ meet death that night.” A smile crossed Sweets’ face. He hit the blunt and held the smoke down in his lungs before passing it back to Lynch.

  “Fuck you got doing the job? You know ain’t a nigga in Flint who can put they murder game down better than your boy.”

  “That’s why I got a bitch doing it.”

  “Whaat?” Lynch exclaimed in disbelief. “You’s a lyin’ mu’fucka.” He shook his head.

  “No bullshit, my nigga. They’ll never see her coming. Like I said before, it’s curtains for the North Side and anybody who affiliated with ’em.”

  Lynch nodded his head. His focus was taken off the conversation when he noticed a short, light-skinned girl with curly hair approach Sweets’ home. He tapped Sweets. “Ain’t that the bartender bitch from Manolo’s spot?”

  Sweets peered through the window. “Yeah, that’s her. Fuck is she doing?” he wondered as she knocked on his door. “How the fuck this bitch know where I live?”

  Sweets rolled down his window, releasing clouds of haze into the sky. “You looking for something?”

  When Keesha turned around and looked at him, he could see that there was a long gash across her forehead. He frowned at the sight. Somebody fucked this bitch up, he thought.

  “Yeah, I need to talk to you,” Keesha replied.

  Sweets shook his head, figuring she wanted money or a place to stay. Manolo had only been locked up for a couple of weeks, but many of his hoes had come to Sweets looking for help. They figured, since Sweets and Manolo were partners, that Sweets would take them in. Sweets didn’t bother with Manolo’s bitches and only took a cut of their earnings. He could give a fuck if they were out on the streets.

  “I ain’t got nothing for you.” Sweets hit the button to roll up his window.

  “Wait!” Keesha approached his side of the car.

  “Bitch is persistent.” Lynch chuckled at Sweets’ irritated expression.

  “What?”

  Keesha said quickly, “I got some i
nformation about why Manolo’s club was raided.”

  Sweets immediately changed his tune. “I’m listening.”

  “Tasha, Mimi, and Halleigh went to the police and told them what Manolo had in his safe. After the raid, they met with the lead detective and split the bricks and the money. That’s why nobody’s seen their faces since it happened.”

  Sweets shook his head. “I don’t know where you got your information from, but somebody told you wrong. Don’t come around my block looking for me again unless you got something important to say.”

  A look of confusion spread across Keesha’s face as she watched Sweets roll his window up and disappear behind the dark tint.

  “How the fuck you just gon’ pass on that valuable shit she just told you, fam?” Lynch asked, an annoyed look on his face. “The bitch info might be legit.”

  “It was legit. I just didn’t want the bitch to think I owe her something for putting me up on game. That’s why I don’t fuck with these bitches. You can’t trust ’em. I took a loss when the police confiscated what was in Manolo’s safe. I’m gon’ take care of them bitches . . . right after I take care of Jamaica Joe.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was Friday night and Celebrations was jumping. Everyone from the North Side came out to celebrate with Jamaica Joe. The huge parking lot was filled to capacity, as cars continued to pile in. Sweets sat in his truck toward the back of the lot, along with the Shottah Boyz. He couldn’t believe Jamaica Joe had practically delivered himself on a silver platter by throwing this party. Sweets had been lying low for the past couple of months, just waiting for Joe to resurface. And now here he was.

  Ain’t this nigga learned his lesson about throwing parties? Sweets thought. He shook his head. He said to his crew, “This nigga must’ve thought the beef was dead. He slippin’ like a mu’fucka. He honestly believes that he can throw a big party without having to see me?” Sweets laughed and then cocked his automatic 9 millimeter pistol. “He got another thing coming.”

  Lynch, the oldest of the Shottah Boyz, asked, “So, we just busting in there shooting?”

  “Nah, nah, that ain’t smart. We going to clear that mu’fucka out, and then I got it from there. It’s all taken care of. Tonight the North Side gon’ feel Sweets, believe that!”

  “So, we’re just going to wet the whole place up? How are we going to get to Jamaica Joe? It’s not going to be that easy.”

  “We’re just going to cause a diversion to put my plan into motion. That’s only the beginning, my nigga. Jamaica Joe and that li’l nigga Malek are dying tonight. That’s my word,” Sweets said boldly.

  That comment was music to Lynch’s ears. He’d wanted Jamaica Joe dead for some time now. Joe was responsible for the shooting death of Lynch’s youngest brother, so Lynch was out for blood. Jamaica Joe gave them the perfect opportunity to strike back by having this big party.

  “This is for Rah-Rah,” Sweets said as he pushed PLAY on his dashboard TV. A homosexual porno began to play on the screen.

  The Shottah Boyz hated it, and didn’t approve of Sweets’ sexual orientation, but they couldn’t do anything because Sweets was the boss. They tried their best to avoid looking at the screen, but still, the sounds were almost too much to bear.

  Lynch frowned. “Sweets, man, why can’t you turn that gay shit off?”

  Sweets didn’t even acknowledge his henchman’s comment. He just sat back and rested his hand on his gun, a small smile spread across his face.

  It was the middle of August, but Sweets and the Shottah Boyz were about to make it look like the Fourth of July.

  Jamaica Joe and Malek walked through the back entrance of the club, surrounded by their whole crew. They were draped in all black, and everyone was shining with long platinum Jesus pieces and crosses. Joe wore a black linen shirt and Armani slacks, with none other than Stacy Adams gators on his feet. Joe was the only one who wasn’t sportin’ any jewels. He only wore a watch, which spoke for itself, since his watch cost more than all his henchmen’s jewels put together.

  Malek didn’t wear any jewelry either. Joe taught him that conservative is always better, so he took heed and did away with the flashy jewelry. Malek just rocked an all-black hoodie under a black Sean John leather jacket, his burner tucked in the front pockets. An oversized fitted cap covered his eyes, and the only facial features that could be seen were his perfect white teeth and his neatly lined goatee.

  The crew mobbed into the club, and they could hear the new Lil’ Wayne song that had been blasting the airwaves, with all of the radio play it had been getting in Flint. Jamaica Joe, Malek, and their crew made their presence known. Joe’s henchmen began to make it rain on their way up to the VIP section. The club went crazy at the sight of them entering the club. It was a fitting send-off for Joe.

  Malek couldn’t help but glance around in search of Halleigh. He had a lot of things he needed to say to her, things she hadn’t given him a chance to say before. He hoped that they could heal old wounds and make amends. This time, no matter what, he was determined to get the love of his life back once and for all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tasha, Mimi, and Halleigh pulled up to the club, Foxy Brown blasting out of the speakers. They were all dressed to impress that night, determined to be the showstoppers of the party.

  “Damn! It’s jumping in there,” Mimi said as she examined the people lining up to get in the club.

  “I told you it was going to be popping,” Tasha said as she maneuvered her car up to the valet.

  Halleigh was consumed by her own thoughts. I hope Malek is in there. I really need to see him. I miss that boy so much. Halleigh had been looking forward to running into Malek ever since Tasha had told her about the party. Even though a part of her couldn’t understand why he was hanging with one of the men that raped her, she knew deep down inside that she had to give him the benefit of the doubt. There was a chance that he’d had no idea that was the man who’d raped her. By the same token, Malek could have very well known, and was secretly plotting his own revenge. Halleigh hoped for the latter.

  So many things went unsaid between her and Malek, and truth be told, Halleigh wanted to see if their love was still there. Hopefully, tonight would be her chance.

  As the three women hopped out of the car, all eyes were on them. Everyone expected to see Manolo close behind, but to their surprise, he was nowhere in sight. All of the girls strutted in with a model’s precision and went straight to the VIP line so that they could avoid waiting. It was double the admission price, but they were coming in with style.

  Maury sat outside in his rental car, waiting for his plan to come into play. He’d rented a motel room two buildings down from the club and was about to show Flint how New York niggas got down. He just hoped that Mimi didn’t back out on him. I shoulda fucked her to get her head gone first, Maury thought as he watched the people fill up the club. He wasn’t sure if Mimi was as bold as she claimed to be.

  He looked toward the valet and saw his sister, Mimi, and Halleigh hop out of the car, all of them wearing diva shades. When Mimi got out, she pulled her shades down slightly and looked over her rims toward the building where Maury was. The two of them locked eyes, and she nodded her head, signaling to him that the plan was still in motion.

  Maury then looked over at an unknowing Halleigh and his eyes got stuck. She was so beautiful. The dress she wore hugged her curves, and the high heels enhanced her long, toned legs. Maury’s joint began to harden just at the sight of her. He quickly snapped out his brief daydream and refocused. He, too, needed for his head to be right in order for everything to go down as planned.

  Halleigh entered the club along with her girls. She noticed a lot of commotion coming from the rear of the club and tried to get a peep of what was going down. A blizzard of money was being tossed in the air, and the women in the club were going crazy, scrambling for the free cash. A mob of gentlemen dressed in all-black began parting the crowd like God parted the Red Sea for Moses. />
  Halleigh stood on her tippy-toes, trying to get a better view. “Damn! Who is that?”

  “Yo, that’s Jamaica Joe and them,” Tasha said, a smile spread across her face. She had history with Joe and was going to make it a point to see him before the night was over.

  The girls made their way over to a table near the bar and settled.

  “It’s jumping in this mu’fucka.” Mimi danced to the music while still in her chair. “Where the mu’fuckin’ ballers at?”

  “You know all the broke niggas are on the main floor. What we need to be doing is getting into VIP.” Tasha waved over the waiter.

  Halleigh looked at the group of men going up the wraparound stairs that led to the VIP section. As she took a closer look, she noticed Malek was ahead of the pack, and her heart fluttered at the sight of him.

  Tasha noticed Halleigh’s attention was focused on something or someone. Tasha’s eyes shot to the crew also, and her vision fixed on Jamaica Joe. Jamaica Joe is looking good tonight. She licked her lips and fixed her freak-’em dress.

  Mimi looked at the entourage. She had a totally different agenda than her friends. She wanted to get the attention of the biggest baller in the club so she could put her plan into motion.

  She downed her rum and Coke and stood up. “Let’s see if we can we get up in VIP, where the real party is at.”

  “That’s what’s up.” Halleigh stood up alongside Mimi.

  All the girls made their way to the VIP section, each with their own personal agenda.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “This toast is to celebrate our family, a family of hustlers, a family of brothers. Flint is ours. No, fuck that, the world is ours!” Jamaica Joe held up a wine glass along with the other ten men in the room, including Malek.

  “The world is ours,” they all said in unison as they tapped their glasses and downed the Moet.