Family Over Everything

by Paige Green

  There in the middle of his office sat Loyal, Wise, and Respect, the same people who’d come up in the game with Jewels.

  “Nope,” Wise said, as he started to massage his goatee. “My workers trying their best to find the people that were involved, but no one doesn’t know anything, yet. I still can’t believe somebody was brazen enough to do this. Now we got to bury all of these workers and send their mothers black dresses.”

  “They still don’t got word on who did it, but they did find a gun in the basement,” Respect said in his low, raspy voice.

  Respect, who was a light-skinned, handsome older man who resembled Shemar Moore, sat in his seat, head held high, silently ready for some action. He had sandy brown hair that was cut into a low fade, full lips, and a broad nose.

  “A gun? How’s that going to help? What you want me to do, take fingerprints?” Jewels spat.

  Removing a pair of latex hand gloves from his pockets, Loyal removed the handgun from a briefcase and slid it in front of Respect. Looking at the gold-plated .9mm with an “L” carved on the handle, Jewels shook his head in disbelief.

  “No, boss. Who’s the only person up the hood that sells guns? And look at that ‘L’ that’s carved into that shit!” Loyal said.

  “Isn’t it that cat, Looney?” Jewels asked. “Carving shit into a gun? How dumb could these young cats get?”

  Wise spoke up. “The only way we’d find out is if we pay Looney a visit.”

  Jewels and Respect cruised through Northview in Jewels’ black-on-black Escalade with the tinted windows. As they made their way through Chicago Street, then Hazlet Street, Jewels glanced into his rearview mirror, shaking his head in disbelief. Loyal and Wise, who drove in Loyal’s fiery-red Ferrari with the butterfly doors, were attracting too much attention to themselves and Jewels didn’t like it. He saw corner boys looking at them in envy and scandalous females plotting in their heads how to get them in the bedroom and into their pockets. When they finally reached their destination, they parked their cars and hopped out. It was almost like the whole neighborhood had stopped to recognize the legendary Northview Heights Drug Lords, every eye raping them.

  All four men, dressed in expensive designer suits, walked down the street, commanding attention. Arriving on Looney’s porch, Loyal quickly knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” Looney asked as he walked toward the door.

  They remained quiet as they waited for Looney to answer the door.

  Peering into the peephole, Looney almost urinated on himself when he saw Jewels and his crew.

  What the fuck they want? he thought. Turning to Joker, he said, “Yo, it’s Jewels and his little posse!”

  “Jewels? Fuck that nigga want?” Joker asked as he started to tremble.

  “I don’t fucking know! Get your shit together!”

  About a minute later, Looney nervously opened the door and flashed a fake smile. Jewels walked into Looney’s apartment with the other three quickly following behind him.

  “What’s up, Jewels? What can I help you with, player?” Looney asked, closing the front door.

  Jewels glanced around Looney’s place in disgust. The smell of marijuana, sex, and rotten food assaulted their noses as they walked into the kitchen and took a seat with Looney and Joker following after them. Placing his hands onto the table and folding them, Jewels instructed Looney to take a seat across from them.

  “Now, Looney, I’m going to ask you a few questions. I only want honest answers and there won’t be any problems, understand?”

  Nodding, Looney shifted in his seat as Jewels stared a hole through him.

  “You heard about me being robbed and a few of my workers getting killed, right?” Jewels asked, staring Looney directly in his eyes.

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Well, one of my workers found this gun in my stash house,” he said before glancing at Loyal.

  Loyal reached into his pocket and pulled out a glove. Putting it on, he reached into the briefcase and pulled out the gold-plated .9mm with the “L” carved into the handle.

  Looney’s hands began to shake as sweat trickled down his forehead. “I can explain!”

  “Well, get to fucking explaining!” Wise said impatiently.

  Looney understood that he would lose a lot of respect in the hood for snitching, but his life depended on it. The gun was clearly one that he’d sold because he carved “L” into all of them.

  “Oh shit, that’s the gun I sold to young, crazy-ass Day’onne and his friend, Menace!” he yelled, his eyes growing as big as golf balls.

  “Day’onne? Who’s that?” Loyal asked.

  Jewels knew exactly who young Day’onne was. In fact, he’d known Day’onne since he was in diapers.

  “Are you lying to me?” Jewels asked calmly yet coldly.

  “No, I remember him and his friend came in here like a week ago. Remember, Joker?” Looney asked, glancing at Joker.

  “Yeah, I remember that shit. I was high as hell and young blood looked like he was about to kill me after I threw a couple jokes at him.” Joker laughed.

  Taking a second to soak up all the information he’d learned, Jewels finally nodded his head as he scratched his chin.

  “Alright, I believe you for now. I’m going to look into this. But best believe if you lying, I’m coming back for you. And believe me, you don’t want that to happen,” he calmly said before standing to his feet.

  He walked out of Looney’s place, trying to gather his thoughts. Getting back into his Escalade, with Respect, he remained quiet the remainder of the ride back to the club.

  “Are you going to tell us who this young dude is?” Respect asked as they walked back into Jewels’ office.

  Reaching into a nearby cabinet and removing a bottle of Vodka from it, he quietly poured himself a small shot. He took a seat in his chair, with his shot glass still in his hand, and finally asked, “Remember Relisha that used to dance here back in the day?”

  Squinting his eyes and tapping his hands against his temple, Respect snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah! She used to be fine as hell! That crackhead bitch! What about her?”

  “Okay, remember Derrick that used to hustle up Northview back in the day, too? He used to run a couple blocks on the Southside?”

  “Yeah, I remember that nigga. Didn’t he get murked, though?”

  “Yeah, he did, but that’s not what I’m getting at,” Jewels said as he tossed the drink back.

  “So, what you talking about then?”

  “You dumb ass, Relisha and Derrick used to mess around. She had twins by that dude. One of those twins is the one that robbed me.”

  “Oh, shit!” Respect said, snapping his finger. “You know where he’s staying at now?”

  “Yup, with that woman Melissa on Hazlet. I heard about that little dude a couple of times. He out here robbing motherfuckers with his little right-hand man. But he done fucked with the wrong one,” Jewels said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “So we hitting him up? Him and his right hand?”

  Rubbing his chin, Jewels shook his head as he got up. Even though he had workers and could hire someone to take Day’onne out for him, he refused. He wanted to stare Day’onne directly into his eyes while he stole the breath away from his lungs. Day’onne had crossed a huge line and he had to be dealt with.

  Jewels didn’t only want Day’onne; he wanted everyone that had any relations with Day’onne. So with that thought, he looked at Respect and cleared his throat. “No, I don’t want just him. I want his entire family.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Are you ready, boy?” Ms. Younger asked Deion.

  It was four in the afternoon as Deion sat at his desk with a pen and notebook in his hand. Giving Ms. Younger his undivided attention, he nodded.

  “Okay, first thing you need to know about writing a book is that it takes researching, dedication, and patience.”

  “What do you mean, it takes patience? What if I want them to read my book a couple of
months from now? I don’t have patience!” he fussed.

  “Deion, you can’t write a book in one month; it truly takes time. Don’t put a time limit on it and don’t rush it. If you rush it, your work will never be good. So remember, patience is the key.”

  Deion nodded, taking note of what she said.

  “Next, when you’re writing a book, you want your readers to feel the characters’ emotions but not by telling them how the character is feeling.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “For an example, if you’re writing about a rainy, dark day, you’d say, the day was dark and dull, and lacking of life, God’s scornful cries falling from the sky.”

  “So, I would say that instead of simply saying it was raining outside?” Deion asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Exactly! Like I said, that’ll get your reader to feel it!”

  Deion continued to listen closely to every word of advice she offered him.

  “Okay, next lesson, when you’re writing a book, you want the words to flow and not force them.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “Simply by letting the words come to you. The last thing you want to do is force your words. That’ll make your book weak and your readers will feel cheated.”

  “Cheated? How could they feel cheated? It’s not like they’ll know if I forced the words or not!”

  Placing her hands on her hips, Ms. Younger scowled at him. “I’m telling you, yes, they will. You want the readers to love and appreciate your writing, not feel cheated and never want to read your work again. What genre are you aiming for?”

  “Urban fiction.”

  “Urban fiction? Oh, you’ll definitely need to work hard on that genre. I read a couple of books in that genre, so you’ll need to be different and not cliché.”

  Deion continued to jot down everything Ms. Younger was schooling him on. When an hour passed and he was ready to go, he packed his notebook and pen into his backpack and started to walk out of the room.

  “Ehh, Mr. Jenkins, I want to talk to you about one more thing before you go,” Ms. Younger said as she removed her glasses.

  Walking back over to her, he stood in front of her. “Deion, you’re a very intelligent young man and I really want the best for you.”

  “I know you do, Ms. Younger, and I’m very thankful.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. But I really hope you don’t let these young, ignorant teenagers around you influence your decisions in life. You can really go somewhere with this writing, Mr. Jenkins. You’re really blessed. When you go home every night, I want you to keep a journal and write out your thoughts. Every writer writes every day, or at least thinks about writing. You’re a writer, keep your head up, and I hope you heed my advice.”

  Deion nodded his head as he thanked her one last time and walked out of her classroom.

  “Hey, Momma,” Deion said as he wrapped his arms around Melissa’s shoulders, giving her a tight hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “Hey, baby. How was school?”

  “It was good. Ms. Younger is teaching me how to write a book!”

  “Write a book? I didn’t know you write, baby. Why didn’t you tell me?” Melissa asked, a hint of hurt evident in her voice.

  “Because you’ve been tired and stressed a lot lately. I wanted to give you your space, Momma. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, baby. Can I see some of your writing?”

  Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out his journal where he kept his poems and gave it to Melissa.

  Flipping to the first page, Melissa began to read his poem, “Never Say Never.”

  Never say Never,

  When you pictured yourself being alone in this cold, heartless world,

  And you said you’d never would.

  Never say never,

  When you find yourself working the blocks to feed your family,

  When you said you’d never would.

  Never say never,

  When you see your lady friend doing anything, willingly, to let any man deep in,

  and you’d said you never stoop that low,

  but you turn around, your skirt’s pulled around your ankles.

  Never say never,

  When you’d said you’d never hurt the woman of your dreams for the woman for the night,

  But lift the covers up, your woman sees you cheating.

  Never say Never..............

  Placing a hand to her chest, Melissa smiled at Deion and pulled him into a warm hug.

  “Boy, this is talent. This is a start! I’m happy for you, baby!”

  “Thank you, Momma. But that poem is old. I wrote this when I first started to write.”

  “Baby, I don’t care; that was beautiful. I’m so proud of you!”

  “Thank you. Did you buy any food yet? And where’s Corrine?”

  “Yeah, there’s food in there, and she’s in the room sleep,” Melissa said before getting up to head into the kitchen.

  She held the notebook in her hand, skimming through the poems he’d written. She was truly happy to see that he was doing something positive with his life.

  “Deion, I want you to listen to me,” Melissa stated firmly, as she cupped her hands around his face.

  “Yes, Momma?”

  “I want you to promise me, no matter what happens, that you’ll never let anyone take your dreams from you, baby. I want you to promise me that you’ll never let that cold-hearted, ignorant brother of yours take your dreams, or influence you to do something you really don’t want to do. Please, baby, promise me?”

  Nodding, he smiled as he said, “I promise.”

  Day’onne and Menace stood on the corner of Chicago Street, selling product to several drug addicts, who stood in line. For the past two weeks, both boys had been breaking down, cooking, bagging, and selling the product that they’d stolen from Jewels. The cocaine was pure, fresh from the Cubans, and the addicts wanted more and more, making Day’onne and Menace’s pockets heavier and heavier. In the short amount of time they’d been selling, both boys had made more than twenty thousand dollars apiece.

  Day’onne’s hair was twisted to perfection and his pockets were swollen. Dressed in a fresh pair of black-and-gray Adidas, baggy cargo shorts, and a black Ralph Lauren collared shirt, he rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. Menace, on the other hand, wore crisp white Pumas, khaki cargo pants, and an all-white Lacoste collared shirt. His usually matted hair was now cut into a temple fade, giving him a clean-cut look.

  Ever since their transformation had taken place, most of Northview had taken heed.

  “Hey, Day’onne,” a young girl named Philicia said, smiling from ear to ear.

  Philicia and her best friend, Tamika, stood in front of Day’onne and Menace, dressed scantily in short shorts and belly shirts. The skimpy outfits exposed their stacked physiques, causing Day’onne’s and Menace’s mouths to water.

  “What’s up, ma?” Day’onne asked as he bit his lip.

  “What y’all getting into today?”

  “Let’s cut to the chase; fuck the bullshit, girl. Are we fucking?” Menace bluntly asked Tamika.

  Without hesitation, she smiled and held out her hand, allowing him to take it. He licked his lips and walked her into his apartment, with Day’onne and Philicia following after them. Philicia and Tamika tried to mask their disappointment when they walked into Menace’s dirty, roach-infested house.

  “Manny, who the hell is these hood rats?” Sharonda, his mother, yelled, addressing him by his birth name.

  She was sprawled out on the sofa, naked and sniffing her daily drugs, which only angered him.

  “Get the fuck out of here, you nasty bitch!” he spat coldly, grabbing her by her hair and dragging her out of the house.

  She wailed out a loud scream as she kicked and clawed at him. When he finally had her out of the house, he went back to doing his business.

  “My bad about that, but y’all ready?”

  Philicia
and Tamika looked at each other and nodded. Troy, Menace’s younger brother, wasn’t home, so Day’onne took Philicia into his room, while Menace took Tamika into his room and grabbed her by her shoulders and aggressively started to undress her.

  “Calm down, boy! You acting like you never got no pussy before!” Tamika yelled.

  Menace, who was a virgin, ignored her as he pulled down his shorts and boxers.

  “Wait, where the condom at?” she asked, placing her hand on his chest.

  “I don’t have one.” He shrugged as he laid her on his bed and positioned himself in between her legs.

  “Wait, dude! No glove, no love!”

  He ignored her, grabbed the base of his penis and entered her. She moaned as a wave of pain and pleasure gripped her with each stroke. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he experienced the first feeling of sex.

  “Oh, shit!” he yelled, ejaculating into her.

  She twisted her mouth up in disgust as he collapsed on top of her with his chest heaving in and out.

  “Damn, that’s it? Where’s my money?” she asked, holding out her hand.

  “Money? What money?” he asked, confused.

  “It cost money to beat up on this pussy. That’ll be three hundred.”

  He shook his head, bursting out in loud, hysterical laughter. “Bitch, you done lost your last mind. Get the fuck out of here!” he said, grabbing her by her hair.

  She cried as he pulled her out of his bedroom by her long hair. Hearing her loud screams, Philicia came running out of the other room.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, pulling up her pants.

  “You and this bitch done lost y’all fucking minds if y’all think we’re paying y’all to fuck. Both of y’all, get the fuck out my spot!” Menace barked.

  Philicia quickly buttoned her pants and ran out the front door, behind Tamika.

  Day’onne, who sat in Troy’s bed with a stiff-on, shook his head in frustration as he got up to leave, too.

  “Where you going?” Menace asked.

  “Getting me some fucking pussy! I’ll be back!”

  Ten minutes later, Day’onne walked into his house.