by Paige Green
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Now you know I’ve known you for the past decade of your life and I can tell when something’s bothering you. So, what is it?”
Taking a deep breath, Deion dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head. “Day’onne showed up to the book release party yesterday.”
“What’s wrong with that? I know that boy is trouble, but that’s still your twin. Y’all are family, Deion.”
“It’s not that. When he came up to me, he asked me to start working for him. So, then he goes on and says some man named Jewels is about to get out and he’ll be looking for us.”
“Who’s Jewels?” Ms. Younger asked, confused.
“Some old hustler from Northview that used to run it back in the day. Well, he probably still does, but I don’t know. I’m confused. What does Jewels want with me, Day’onne, and Corrine? Whatever it is, Day’onne’s name is written all over it,” Deion spat viciously.
“And what makes you think Day’onne had something to do with this?” she asked, trying to put the pieces together.
“Because, I can just tell. Day’onne isn’t nothing but trouble, Ms. Younger. All he does is go around being a menace to society. Whatever it is, though, I want no parts. I got this book to worry about and I don’t need any drama.”
Wrapping her arms around Deion’s shoulder, she gave him a warm hug. “Baby, I understand it’s hard for you, but he’s still a part of your family. What do you think Ms. Melissa would’ve wanted you to do?”
The mention of Melissa’s name brought him into an even more somber mood. Every time he thought of her, he couldn’t help but think about all the things she’d done for him and the unconditional love she’d provided him with.
Pushing her to the back of his mind, he shook his head as he stood up.
“This isn’t about Melissa!” he yelled, trying to fight back his tears. “This is about Day’onne entering my life out of nowhere, right when things are finally positive for me. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in the past eight years of my life, and now he suddenly pops up out of nowhere talking about some old gangster out to get me!”
“Boy, would you calm down?” Ms. Younger said, tapping him on the leg. “Listen, it may be a lot to digest, but you have to calm down, Deion. He is your family. Even when I adopted you following Melissa’s death, it seemed like you didn’t want anything to do with your family. Why is that? Speaking of family, when was the last time you even talked to Corrine?”
“Since they took her. I tried to locate her, but they couldn’t find her,” he lied, eyeing the floor.
Standing and shaking her head in disbelief, Ms. Younger said, “I’m highly disappointed in you, Deion. This book means a lot to you and it’s your dream, but they are your family. No, you don’t have to hustle or get into all of the shenanigans that Day’onne gets himself into. What I’m saying is that you should have their backs and find out why this man is after all of y’all.”
“So what should I do, Ms. Younger?”
“I don’t know, baby. You’re a grown man now, and it’s time you make your own decisions. All I can say is follow your heart.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rachael sat Indian-style in the middle of her dirty living room floor, going into a head nod. She clutched the crystal meth in her hands, slobber seeping from the corners of her mouth. Her white complexion was ghostly pale from the drugs she’d been taking for more than two years. Her blonde hair that was once flawlessly healthy was now breaking off into chunks, and her pink lips were white and chapped.
She’d been sitting in the living room for hours now, rocking her head back and forth. An hour later, when she felt the drug wearing off, she looked at the small bag of crystal meth she had left in her hand and reached for the needle. As she held the needle in her hand, she heard the faint sounds of Corrine, Mercedes and Tessa, in the next room talking.
Quickly standing and flaring her nose, she tossed the needle down before making her way toward their bedroom.
“Why does your mom treat us like this?” Mercedes asked Tessa.
All three of them were seated in a semi-circle in Corrine and Mercedes’ bedroom, having a sister-to-sister talk.
“I don’t know; I guess it’s the drugs,” Tessa said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Man, fuck those drugs! That ain’t a reason for her to be fucking us up the way she do! You don’t have shit to worry about, Tessa. You don’t go through the shit we go through up in here!” Corrine spat, trying to hold back her tears.
“Would you calm down and watch your mouth, Corrine?” Mercedes said, lightly slapping Corrine’s arm.
“I don’t know. When I was younger, she was the best mother but then . . .” Tessa paused as she thought back to when Rachel used to bend over backward to make sure she had everything.
“Then what, Tessa?”
“My father up and left one day. I don’t know why, but he did. After that, she became depressed and angry. She ended up adopting you, Mercedes, got them checks and it helped feed her habit. When she got on them drugs, it became worse than before.”
Corrine and Mercedes watched as a tear made its way down Tessa’s cheek. Tessa, who was biracial, was a beautiful young girl who, like Corrine and Mercedes, was misguided and lost in this world. When Rachael had gotten hooked on drugs and lost herself, Tessa had lost herself, too.
“Don’t cry, girl,” Mercedes said, giving Tessa a hug.
“No, I hate to see her do this to y’all. I don’t know why she doesn’t hit me, but when she abuses y’all, it feels like she’s doing it to me, too. Y’all don’t know, I don’t have anyone but y’all. I don’t want y’all to leave me.”
“Girl, don’t worry; we’re not going anywhere,” Corrine assured her.
“I heard y’all talking about it the other day. If y’all leave, I really don’t blame you. But please know I’m leaving with y’all.”
“We can’t leave because we don’t know where to go!”
Taking a deep breath and wiping her tears, Tessa tapped her fingers against her chin as if she was thinking. Snapping her fingers, she said, “I have a friend that used to work for some woman name Sugar. She can give us a place to stay.”
“Sugar? Who’s Sugar?” Mercedes asked skeptically.
“She’s a pimp.”
“So you saying your friend used to sell her body and that’s what you want us to do, too? Oh, hell no!”
“Shit, I’d rather do that than continue to live in these conditions. Sugar is cool. She’s not your usual pimp. I won’t be in here for long and y’all don’t want to be either,” Tessa said.
Mercedes took a deep breath, thinking about what Tessa had said. Even though it was hell living with Rachael, she couldn’t see herself sinking to a new low by selling her body.
“Think about it, y’all.”
“No, but—”
Before Mercedes had a chance to finish her statement, Rachael came barging into their bedroom like a madwoman. Her eyes were blood red and appeared crazed.
“What the fuck y’all doing in here? Tessa, get the fuck out!” she yelled, lunging at Corrine.
Corrine curled into a ball, praying to God, trying to prepare herself for the brutal beating coming her way. Her body was still sore from the beating a few days ago, and she wasn’t physically ready for another one.
“Bitch, get the fuck up!” Rachael yelled.
Corrine did what she was told, quickly getting on her knees to stand up. Before she had a chance to rise completely, Rachael kicked her in her chest, knocking the wind out of her.
Falling to the floor, she grabbed her chest, gasping for breath. It felt like her chest had caved in. Rachael continued to kick, claw, and punch at her mercilessly, yelling obscenities at her.
God, please just kill me now, Corrine thought, slipping out of consciousness.
“Yeah, bitch, that’s what you get! Stay the fuck away from my daughter!” Rachael sai
d cruelly.
Turning around to face Mercedes, still in attack mode with her adrenaline rushing, she threw a hard blow, connecting with the teen’s face.
Mercedes collapsed to the ground, holding her face in pain as Rachael continued to beat on her. She wrapped her elbows around her head, trying her best to protect it.
“I hate y’all bitches!” Rachael screamed with each blow.
From the side of her eyes, Rachael glimpsed at a lamp that sat on the floor. Smiling devilishly, she ran to the lamp, lifted it, and hurled it at Mercedes, knocking the girl out. Looking at Corrine and Mercedes lying motionless on the floor, she flashed a toothless smile and left the bedroom to enjoy her next fix.
It was twelve midnight when Mercedes finally awoke. Waking up in a small pool of her blood, she winced in pain as she glanced around, frantic.
The bedroom was bone-chilling cold from the winter night, causing her to shake uncontrollably. Her skin was dull and her eyes carried years of pain. She reeked of trash as she tried her best to stand to her knees, but it was to no avail. Through the dark room, she could see the silhouette of Corrine’s body, still lying motionless on the floor.
Grabbing Corrine’s shirt and tugging it, tears seeped down her cheeks. “Corrine, get up, girl!”
Neither word nor movement came from Corrine, sending Mercedes into a panic.
The side of her head throbbed where the lamp had hit her, and the hair there was matted in blood. Dizzy and nauseous, she walked to the closet, grabbed her duffle bag, and started to pack it with the few clothes she and Corrine owned.
She couldn’t stay in that house anymore. If she or Corrine spent one more night in that house, they’d end up dead. And with that thought, she had to leave.
“God, please give us strength,” she cried.
She dropped down next to Corrine, grabbing her by her hand. “Please get up; I need you!”
When Corrine’s eyes finally fluttered open and she groaned, Mercedes couldn’t help but flash a weak smile.
“Leave me alone, Mercedes. Face it; we’re going to die here,” Corrine whispered with a defeated look on her face.
“Stop talking crazy; we’re getting out of here tonight, girl,” Mercedes said firmly, using the little strength she had to help her up.
Wincing in pain, she finally rose to her feet. Wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders, they walked out of the room and painfully made their way to the front door. When they got to it, they stopped for a moment to rest.
“Is Tessa coming with us?” Corrine asked.
Mercedes had forgotten about Tessa. She snapped her fingers and told Corrine to stay by the door. Seeing double, she used the walls to support her as she walked toward Tessa’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
When she finally walked into Tessa’s room, she found Tessa on her bed, curled into a ball and crying. She continued and sat on the bed.
“Are you okay?” Mercedes whispered weakly.
Turning around to face Mercedes, Tessa smiled and threw her arms around Mercedes’ neck, giving her a tight hug.
“Are y’all okay? I thought she killed y’all from the way y’all were screaming,” Tessa said.
“We’re good, but we’re leaving for good. Are you still coming with us?”
“Hell yeah, I’m coming!” Tessa hopped out of her bed and grabbed a backpack from her closet and threw it over her shoulders.
“Aren’t you going to pack some clothes in there?”
“Oh, no, they’re already in there. I was already prepared for this day.” Tessa shrugged.
Leaving the bedroom together, they went to the front door where Corrine was waiting for them.
Before they walked out of the door, Mercedes turned to face both girls. “Wherever we go, we have to promise each other that we’ll always stick together and have each other’s backs. We’re sisters, and we’re the only family we have right now.”
“You’re right, but where’re we going to go?” Tessa asked. “The only place I have in mind is that woman, Sugar.”
“I don’t know, girl, but we’re getting the hell out of here. That’s all that matters,” Corrine said, walking out of the door.
Both girls quickly followed behind her, never looking back.
Deion sat at his kitchen table staring at the piles of Hustling Hard paperback and hardcover books that were scattered across it. His clothes were disheveled, his breath stank, and he was in need of a good shave. Ever since he had that talk with Day’onne and Ms. Younger, he’d moped around his condominium, lost in his thoughts.
He’d spent more than a week contemplating if he wanted to get down with Day’onne or not. Even though Day’onne was his family, and his twin brother at that, he couldn’t cope with the thought of even being around him. When the three of them got separated and Deion was adopted by Ms. Younger, he’d done whatever it had taken for him to be successful.
Once he discovered at a young age that he had the gift to write, Ms. Younger, like she’d promised, had helped him hone his craft and took her time with him. She’d taught him everything she’d learned in college as an English major, teaching him the values of writing. When he’d turned twenty-one, he’d started writing Hustling Hard. Now that it was published, he felt as if all his hard work had paid off.
But with Day’onne popping up into his life out of nowhere telling him someone was out to kill him, he felt as if he was back at square one.
The loud ringing of his cell phone brought him back to reality.
Glancing at the caller ID, he exhaled and raised his eyebrow when a strange number popped up.
“Who is this?” he answered.
“What’s up, bro? You think about what I told you?” Day’onne’s deep voice boomed through the phone.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Look, meet me up Northview in an hour on the corner of Penfort Street and don’t be late,” he said before ending the call.
Deion sighed as he stood up to finally get himself together. Walking into his spacious bathroom, he took his time shaving and bathing himself. An hour later, he stepped out of his place cleaner than he was two hours ago. Dressed in a black Gucci suit, he jumped into his BMW and made his way toward the place he hadn’t seen in more than eight years.
Deion cruised down Hazlet Street, bobbing his head to the loud Rakim music that blared from his radio. Looking through his tinted windows, he scanned the poverty-stricken neighborhood he’d grown up in. Nickel-and-dime hustlers and other people turned, almost breaking their necks to get a peek at his car. Deion shook his head as he cruised through Penfort Street. Seeing Day’onne standing on the corner, he stepped out of the car with a grim look on his face. Day’onne, who was dressed in a blue Lacoste polo shirt, crisp black jeans, and black Polo boots, smiled as Deion walked toward him with a mean scowl on his face.
“Damn, nigga, what the fuck is wrong with you? Rolling up on me looking all mean and shit.” Day’onne laughed before walking away.
Deion remained silent as he followed his brother into a nearby abandoned apartment.
Walking into the building with caution, he flinched at the sight before him. In the empty apartment, a table sat in the middle of the living room with stacks of money laid on top of it. There were a couple of people sitting around the table counting the money. In the corner, he saw a couple of drug addicts on the floor, sticking needles into their veins. When Day’onne walked him into the kitchen, Deion almost fainted because he’d never seen so many guns and drugs in his life. There in the kitchen, more than a dozen hustlers sat at two different tables with AK-47’s, shotguns, .45 calibers, and .9mm’s in their hands. On a different table, beautiful naked women with stacked, curvaceous physiques and surgical masks adorning their faces, cut, cooked, and bagged dope.
“What’s up, Deion?” a dark, black-blue man with pearly white teeth asked.
“Who are you?”
“Awe, nigga, don’t act like you don’t recognize me. It’s me, Menace.”
“Oh, what’s up?” Deion said.
Menace waved Deion off, then turned and started handing out bags of dope to his workers for them to sell. Around the time Melissa was slain, Day’onne and Menace had taken the money and drugs they’d robbed from Jewels and created their drug empire from the ground up. Starting off working themselves, they’d quickly expanded their team, having over twenty workers working for them by the time they hit nineteen. At age twenty-one, they both had touched millions of dollars. Their names were booming everywhere throughout the streets of not only Northview, but all over Pittsburgh and even New York as well. Basically, Day’onne and Menace were untouchable.
“So, this is the shit you been doing with your life?” Deion asked as he followed Day’onne into an empty bedroom.
Taking a seat in a nearby chair, Day’onne took a blunt from behind his ear and lit it. He nodded as he took a pull from it and exhaled.
“Yeah, this shit is all I know, bro.” Day’onne shrugged.
Deion silently took a seat next to his brother and shook his head in disbelief.
“What you mean? There isn’t shit to living this life.”
“Well, not everybody could fucking make it out the hood and write a book, Deion. This shit is my ticket and I get mad respect from niggas. Shit, I even make niggas bow down to me. I’ll die doing this.”
“You know, when we were living with Melissa, she only wanted the best for me, you, and Corrine. I wish she could’ve seen the day I graduated from high school and published this book; she would’ve been so happy, man. But, what would she say about you? She always worried about you when you were out here robbing people and shit. What’s up with you? From what I can remember, you always been like this.”
“Man, fuck all that shit. She could barely put food in our mouths and clothes on our backs. I did what I had to do, so why you sweating me? I was born this way and I’ll die this way.”
“Alright, man; what do you want from me, Day’onne?” Deion asked, hopping up and scowling down at him.
Day’onne inhaled the marijuana, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke, trying to collect his thoughts. As he looked into his twin brother’s eyes, he couldn’t help but shake his head. He couldn’t believe how they were identical but acted nothing alike.
