by D. Gamblez
“It’s all Gucci, baby.” I said convincingly, faking a smile.
“All right,” Cherish said with a shrug. “If you say it’s Gucci, well, it’s Gucci, I guess.”
“Come on, girl,” I said, pulling my plump bottom from the white, luxurious leather sofa strategically positioned opposite the home theater. It contained a 50”HDTV, Raheem’s Xbox video game console, and a stereo system. “Let’s go get dolled up before these niggas come up in here tripping and shit on us not being ready.”
I decided to take Cherish’s advice. Tonight was a night for me to claim what was already mine.
Tonight, I’m putting the rest of these bitches on notice; you fuck with my nigga, you even look in his direction, I fuck you up. Tonight, Dre, you’re about to get the best pussy you’ve ever had, and ever will have. Because tonight...I’m putting my shit on lock.
“These niggas ballin’ outta control,” Makita said, her mouth as wide as a little kid on Christmas morning after coming downstairs and noticing every toy he or she had ever wanted planted right there beneath the biggest Christmas tree money could buy. And Santa Clause standing off to the side with his jolly red bag full of more toys in case the kid wanted more gifts.
“Ballin’ ain’t the word,” Coco said, a huge smile plastered across her face. “I don’t even know what the word is, but whatever it is, they definitely doin’ it.”
Even I was amazed as the double-doors to the stretch limo swung outward. I took it all in as I walked slowly towards the awaiting chauffeur as he held open the door for us. A black Lexus RX 300 SUV-like limousine with black leather interior was parked out on the curb in front of the house. The only doors on the limo were on the left-side of it; the driver’s door and the double-doors that opened up to reveal a U-shaped seating that faced outwardly. In the middle of the floor was an ice bucket that held three bottles of Moët.
Dre’s really stepped his game up from being the weed boy. I know he said he was moving a little weight for his brother, but I didn’t know he was making this much paper. I’m gonna need me a little bit of that scratch. Shit, a bitch gotta shine too, just like her man. Hopefully, after tonight, I’ll start earning my keep.
“What’d ya’ll do? Go out to Hollywood and rob one of them fake-ass media couples or something?” Cherish asked Raheem as she nearly hopped into his outstretched arms.
“You know how we do, ma,” Raheem smiled, slipping his tongue past Cherish’s dark red lipstick-coated lips. “Damn, you taste so good, baby.”
“Like Creole cherries, daddy,” Cherish moaned.
“Ya’ll fucking right here on the sidewalk...or are we rollin’ out?” Dre asked, stepping out of the limo in a cream-colored Armani suit, with black Stacy Adams and a black rose-colored Rolex on his wrist. His Italian Mafia-looking attire was topped off with a cream-colored bowler hat.
“Hey, Dre,” I smiled. Even though we’re together, he still somehow makes me nervous to be around him. Damn, Audi, get it together.
“You lookin’ like a dime piece tonight, ma,” Dre said as he took me by the hand in spun me around slowly. My cream-colored Gucci dress was hugging my voluptuous body tighter than a Boa constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey.
I wiggled my juicy bottom in all of its fine glory, giving Dre a playful tease to get him in the mood for what I was planning for him later tonight.
“So what are you saying, boo?” I said with mock attitude, now facing him again. “I don’t look like a dime piece any other day of the week?”
“Not when you leave me with my dick in my hand, you don’t,” he responded with a playful smile, but I could tell he meant it.
I was going to tell him that I was actually ready for him tonight, but everyone was laughing from his comment, so I just decided to keep my mouth shut. I did not show it, but I was really bothered by what he had said. Especially so by the fact of him saying it in front of our friends.
“I’m just fucking with you, shawty,” Dre said as he pulled me close and slipped me some tongue, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
“We really have to go,” the middle-aged, black chauffeur said impatiently. “Or else all the parking spots will be taken.”
“A’ight, ya’ll,” Dre pulled me into the limo, the soft leather encasing my derriere like a pair of comfortable boy-shorts. “Let’s bounce.”
Dre
We arrived at club Déjà Vu in style for the graduation party a little after 7:00. We stepped out onto the tarmac like we were at a red carpet event. The Tru Aetna Boyz and the Gucci Girlz were all the hype tonight. I made sure of it. Not only had I gotten us a V.I.P section for the night, I had rented Armani suits for me and my crew. And I had even sprung for the Gucci Girlz attire. But the girls did not know any of that. I let my crew give it to them as gifts as if they were the ones who had bought them. I was not in the game of showing my guys up as that is considered to be some foul shit in my book.
Although my crew was making just as much money as I was, I wanted to treat them tonight to show my appreciation for their loyalty. Devonte, Raheem, Lyrical, and I were only moving ten keys at a time from Chicago to South Bend every other day for my brother Damon who stayed out in Chicago, but you would think we were the biggest drug suppliers in the hood the way we looked out for each other.
Although I trusted my brother, I made a few adjustments to the terms we had agreed upon without his knowledge. Whenever two of us would go to pick up the package from Damon, the other two would be in a second car following behind. The same went for when two of us dropped it off. Only thing that did not change was me being the sole party when picking up the payment from my brother. But that was only because I knew he would spot anyone else if they were tailing me. My brother kept a tight grip on his money, and he did not trust anyone around it, not even his own crew. And I understood how he felt because I had similar ways.
Do you not believe me? Try fooling with me or my crew and see how we react.
“We gotta make sure we keep an eye out for that bitch-ass nigga, Diego,” Raheem said as he sidled up beside me. Like I said, my crew had my back.”Word is, that nigga been on some sneak shit. Tryin’ to catch one of us slippin’ after we whupped his ass and Audi pummeled that pimply-faced bitch of his at prom.”
“Ya’ll strapped, right?” I asked everyone.
As way of an answer, everyone revealed their concealed weapons. The Tru Aetna Boyz all had a .45 tucked in the small of their backs. The Gucci Girlz on the other hand were a little more inconspicuous. Coco and Makita had their pistols tucked between their big, chocolate breasts. Cherish had her Beretta strapped to her inner-thigh, tucked away beneath her red, hip-hugging Gucci dress. And Audi, pointing to what I had originally thought was a black choker around her neck, turned around and lifted her long brown hair to reveal a small-caliber handgun strapped to the back of her neck, held in place by the choker. It was a good hiding place, too, because when I had placed my hand there earlier during our kiss, I had not even noticed it.
“That’s what’s up, but keep ya eyes open,” I instructed. “Ya’ll heard what Raheem said. That bitch-ass ma’fuckin’ Diego been on some sneak shit, so I don’t want that nigga creepin’ up on us, a’ight?”
“Shit, we’re all the way Gucci over this way,” Cherish said, indicating herself and the girls.
“You already know what it is with us, my nigga,” Devonte said. “T.A.B!”
“On it 24/7, fam,” Raheem said with conviction.
“Come on, now,” Lyrical said. “I’m Lyrical Gatz, remember?”
“A’ight, then,” I nodded, impressed. “Then we all on point.”
“A’ight, then,” Lyrical mirrored me, smacking Coco on her plump bottom. “Let’s get up in here and shut this bitch down!”
The club was jumping tonight. I had booked some time on the microphone for Lyrical, and she was killing it. Damn near every nigga in the place was on their feet, whooping and hollering like Lyrical was Foxy Brown or Lil’ Kim.
&nb
sp; Karamel Melts and Chanel Mo’Wët, the baddest strippers in Chicago, who my brother Damon had sent to perform for us for the night, were popping their big, juicy, light-skinned asses all over Lyrical, causing the actively loud crowd to cheer even louder and toss thousands of dollars up on stage. At one point, security had been prompted to remove about four men from the club because they had tried climbing onstage.
Lyrical had placed the microphone between her legs like it was an erect penis, turned Karamel Melts around, bent her over until she was touching her toes, grabbed a handful of her long, black hair, then started pounding her from behind like two porn stars on the set of their latest movie. Karamel’s cheeks jiggled all over the place like waves in the ocean as she feigned pleasure, screaming like a banshee. Chanel had laid down on her back on the floor in front of them and spread her legs wide while Karamel pretended to eat her out.
“I swear, you couldn’t make this shit up. This is like some straight up Girls Gone Wild type shit up in here, my nigga,” Raheem said as he grabbed the blunt from Cherish and took a hit. “I could do this shit every week,” he said, each word punctuated by a cloud of smoke.
We had been there about three hours, and we had popped about four bottles of Dom Pérignon. Makita and Coco were in the middle of the floor of the V.I.P area, popping their chocolate asses and making their booties clap like thunder while Devonte tossed dollar bills in their direction, which was called ‘making it rain’.
“Give it up ladies and gentlemen for Lyrical Gatz, the baddest up and coming female rapper in all of G.I.!And let’s not be too shy when giving it up for Karamel Melts and Chanel Moet, also, two of the baddest strippers and private dancers on the Southside of Chicago!” the DJ screamed out over the P.A system to the crowd.
“Lyrical! Lyrical! Lyrical!” the crowd chanted as Lyrical, followed by Karamel and Chanel, hopped off of the stage and headed towards the V.I.P section.
“Oh shit!”Raheem said, pulling out his .45.”There go that bitch-ass nigga, Diego, and his crew. Get you’ll asses on point, fam!”
I hopped up off the leather couch, nearly throwing Audi off of my lap when I saw Diego and about twelve Cobras heading for the V.I.P section. When I saw one of them raising a pump-action shotgun, I pulled my strap, and without hesitation, I let off five shots in succession in their direction. Two shots went wild, but the last three hit the shotgun-toting dude in the chest.
Everybody began screaming and running as the deafening sound of gunfire erupted. I saw Chanel Mo’Wët’s body spasm then go limp, finally crashing to the floor when one of the Cobras started shooting in Lyrical’s direction, spraying his Mac 10 wildly in an attempt to hit anything and everything moving. Lyrical shoved Karamel to the floor and let off a barrage of bullets from her two .45s, hitting at least three Cobras in the upper-torso.
“Get fuck out here!”Diego ordered the remainder of his crew in his broken English, still letting off shots in my direction. One of the bullets nicked Cherish in the upper-arm, causing her to fall to the floor, wincing in pain. Apparently, that was a big mistake on Diego’s part, because in the next instant, the rest of the Gucci Girlz; Makita, Coco, and Audi, circled around Cherish like a pride of lions protecting their young, then they upped strap and let off at least thirty rounds in Diego’s direction, killing all but him and two others as they high-tailed it out the front door.
“Come back here, you bitch-ass nigga!” Lyrical yelled as she headed out the doors in pursuit of Diego.
If she was going after him she was asking for trouble. I bolted for the exit, the rest of the crew following closely behind me, but before we cleared the doors the quick burst of gunfire broke through the air.
Please let that be shots from Lyrical’s gun, I thought as I broke into a run. I noticed that Diego had already gone, but not before leaving Lyrical lying in the parking lot, blood beginning to pool beneath her 5’7”trembling body.
“No, no, no, no, no,” I cried when I saw the blood leaking from Lyrical’s lips as she struggled to breath, tears forming in her eyes.”Oh, hell naw! Hell fuck naw, nigga!”
“This is fucked up, fam!”Raheem cried. “This is some fucked up shit, fam. Not my girl, man! Not my ma’fuckin’ dawg, yo!”
“Lyrical! Baby, please don’t die!” Coco cried, cradling Lyrical in her arms.”Please, baby, please!”
“Cops, ya’ll!” I faintly heard someone shouting, barely noticing Raheem rounding up our weapons and handing them off to one of his cousins who stayed down the street from the club. I guess they had rushed over when they heard the shots, fearing for Raheem’s safety.
I dropped to my knees, tears flowing down my face at the thought of losing Lyrical. I felt Audi’s arms around me as she sobbed in my ear, no doubt struggling with the pain of Lyrical’s predicament and what had just transpired. “I’m here, baby,” she promised. “I’m with you forever. I got you, baby. I got you...”
I’m not sure how long we stayed like that out in front of the club, but the next thing I remember is that we were all being placed in the back of squad cars, and Lyrical was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. I listened to the sound of the ambulance’s siren fade into the distance as it left us sitting there, not knowing what Lyrical’s fate was.
I looked out the window from the backseat of the police cruiser where Audi and I sat cuffed with our hands behind our backs and saw a tall, baldheaded black guy heading in our direction. He wore blue jeans and a black T-shirt beneath a bullet-proof vest that had the words GPD stenciled on the front, and when he turned to signal for one of the uniformed officers, I noticed the words LIEUTENANT stenciled in gold on the back.
I watched as he spoke sternly to the officer for a few moments, then as the officer headed quickly inside the bullet-riddled nightclub, the tall black guy headed in our direction. He had a pissed-off expression on his face as he approached the left side of the car where I was, cupping his hands around his face as he peered through the window. He tapped the driver-side window to get the attention of the officer, signaling for her to let down the window. He ducked back down and peered through the window, inches from my face. I smelled Spearmint gum on his breath.
“DeAndre Harris, right?” he said in a gruff voice. “Damon Harris’ little brother? I’m Lieutenant Hensley of the Gary Police Department. Looks like you and I need to have a long overdue chat about what you’ve been doing out here on the streets of my city.”
Oh, shit.
Naomi
At first I had thought the Death Dealers had struck again, but after a few hours of questioning witnesses and collecting evidence, I realized that it had been nothing more than a beef between a couple of teenagers that had somehow escalated into an all-out war.
“I’m getting really tired of this shit, Sarge,” Miracle said exasperatedly as she hopped out of her maroon Monte Carlo SS.
I noticed that she was dressed in her usual pajama wear; dark-grey FUBU tracksuit pants and white T-shirt. She had been up all night moving into her new apartment, so being summoned to a crime scene at 10:00 at night was the last thing she wanted. I can relate, I had been up all night as well, trying to hammer out all the inconsistencies in the Death Dealers case. So far I have had no luck.
“Sorry, Miracle—” I said sincerely—”but I need all hands on deck for this one. It’s pretty bad.”
“What? No, not that,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I’m talking about this killing each other bullshit. It’s like a fucking game of tag to these kids, trying to see who can rack up the most bodies before you’re either dead or in jail. Jesus Christ, man. What kind of world are we living in these days?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said solemnly. The death toll in Indiana had risen significantly in the last five years, mostly due to violent crimes happening in the cities of Glen Park, East Chicago, and Gary. And they all seemed to be either gang related or drug related.
“And the worst part is that in the course of a shootout, the bullets always seem to find innocent
bystanders instead of the intended targets,” JJ added.
“Yeah, it’s a real shame,” Oliver said solemnly. No matter what the case was, he remained stoic throughout, so you never really knew what he was actually thinking.
“Why don’t you and Vida head to the hospital in case one of the partygoers who sustained injuries during the shootout has anything to say,” I instructed Oliver. “Somebody had to have seen something. Miracle, JJ, and I will finish up here. Is that all right with you two?” I looked to Miracle and JJ.
“Fine by me, Sarge,” JJ said.
“We got you, boss,” Miracle nodded.
“Appreciate you all coming down, too. I mean it.” And I did mean it. They had their own lives to deal with, but at the drop of a hat, they had all rushed out to Glen Park to assist with the crime scene at my request.
“No sweat, Sarge,” Oliver nodded.
“Yeah, I was bored, anyways,” JJ said.
“You know me, Sarge−whatever you need. Send the bat signal, I’m there.” Vida squeezed my shoulder, assuring me of her loyalty.
“Who the hell needs sleep nowadays, anyway? So overrated, am I right?” Miracle said sleepily.
“Thanks again, guys,” I said sincerely to Oliver and Vida before they hopped in their unmarked vehicles and headed in the direction of the hospital.
“Where’s Hawkins and Lewis?” JJ asked.
“Commander Vogal has them on a special assignment from the mayor. My father said Mayor Reichly’s trying to promote more firm and no-nonsense cops in the city or some shit like that. He asked if I had any headstrong officers in my unit, so I gave him Shonda and Royce.”
“Wow, Sarge, really?” JJ asked. “I’m all that and more, so why not ask me? I mean, I’m not hating on Shonda or Royce...”
