Hustling on the Down Low

by MT Pope

  “Yes, and to find out that you both would be getting married was an even bigger shock to us too,” his mother said as she looked at me with glee-filled eyes.

  My heart felt like it fell into my stomach. I looked at Anthony with a smile on his face. I had a “what the fuck!” on the edge of my tongue, but I swallowed it before I spoke.

  “Yes, it was a surprise to me too. But your son is so special to me that I just couldn’t hold back and let someone else snatch him up. Life is too short to wait for love.”

  “That is so sweet. See what I mean? This guy is so special and caring. How could I not marry this guy?” He leaned over and kissed me again.

  “You two remind me of my husband and I when we first started out on this journey. I’m so excited for you both.”

  “I’m excited as well, Mrs. Moore.” That was half of a lie. Truth is, I was taken aback by the whole situation, but I did have deep feelings for Anthony. I just didn’t have the timetable that he had, obviously.

  The night went smoothly after that. We talked about his childhood and my own, our careers. We continued to talk and eat and got to know each other. I was still nervous because this was not on my radar at all, but it all worked out.

  “Well, Clayton, it was so nice to have met you.” Anthony’s father reached across the table to shake my hand again. “The wife and I have another engagement that we must get to, and we don’t want to be late.”

  “Yes, we do. But this was so lovely and pleasant,” his mother added.

  We all pushed our chairs back and proceeded to gather our things.

  “Come give your new mother a hug,” Mrs. Moore requested. I walked around the table and embraced her in a tight hug. She had a nice firm grip on me. It was a loving one. I gently pulled back when I felt like enough time had elapsed.

  “Welcome to the family, Clayton.” She grabbed my hand and patted it. His father interjected with just a handshake.

  I walked them all to their cars; then I pulled off in my own. I got home later that evening and lay across the bed with the events of today on my mind. Mainly the marriage part. I was surprised at the fact that over the time I was told I was getting married and up to now that how much more appealing it was becoming. I was in awe. I was thinking about marriage only after a few weeks.

  My phone began to ring, and I picked it up.

  “I’m sorry,” were the first words that Anthony spoke to me.

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. That whole situation was a complete ambush.” He sounded sorrowful.

  “Wellllll . . . That is true, but I’m good with it now,” I laughed. “I’m just glad that you didn’t get down on one knee and propose to me. That could have been messy.” I laughed a little.

  “Again, I’m sorry.”

  “Anthony Moore, will you do me the honor of being my husband?” I spoke from my heart.

  “Are you serious?” he sounded shocked.

  “Absolutely. I meant what I said at the table earlier. As unconventional as this is, I do love you, sir. I am in love with you.”

  “Yes, I will marry you.”

  “Well, there you have it. We’ll work out the details later. I have some work to do, so let today marinate, and I’ll do the same. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” he said, and then hung up the phone.

  I looked at the phone on the bed for a few moments, hoping that I just did the right thing.

  Chapter 35

  Avery

  Trust Issues

  It is something to shake the hand of a known enemy, and it’s another thing to not know. I had the upper hand and could take everything from him at any given moment. But it was all about timing and preparation. The way I would do it would be remembered for a long time to come.

  I never thought about children, or the lack of, until now. I look at Corey and see possibilities. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not going out to have sex with a female or pay someone to have my kid. Especially when there is one ripe for the picking underneath my nose. He was neglected by the father that loved him and hated him, but didn’t know it. It was a card that I had. Another one to destroy a man and his home from the inside out. One that was among a few in my hand.

  Running an empire and having multiple personas was pleasurable but exhausting, to say the least. Everything has a cost. Mine was sleep and comfort. I did not sleep much, and being comfortable means that I can be caught slipping. I didn’t live in luxury, even though I had the wealth and power to do so. So, with all that being said, I wanted to reap some of those rewards without losing my life or freedom. I had one issue, though: trust. Who can you trust in this drug game? Almost no one. That is where Corey came in. Once I snatch him from his home and “rescue” him, he will owe me. He will owe me his trust. It will be a first time for me when it comes to my empire. I was close so many times to trusting someone, but something about them always disbanded my trust. I had a few tests for Corey that would let me know for sure if he could be trusted.

  But first, I had to work his mother overtime. I had the package that she was waiting to get. She said she wanted the truth, but I was about to give her a lie. Even I was amazed at the work that the photo artist did with the photo shopped pictures. I looked at them a few times and then placed them in an envelope. I sealed them as to indicate that I never looked at them. That is what I was going to tell her. She needed someone that had her best interest at heart and someone that was impartial in the situation, because, quote/unquote, I didn’t know her husband.

  I pulled out my phone and called her number.

  “Hey, Coach. How are you doing?” She had an upbeat voice, but I knew she was waiting for this call. She wanted to know if her husband had lived up to the standards that she set for him. I was happy to disappoint her.

  “I’m taking it easy. One day at a time,” I responded. “How are you doing today?” I asked, stalling on purpose.

  “I’m doing quite wonderful for a woman on the edge.”

  “That’s understandable.” I was smiling on the other end of the phone. To have something that someone wanted, needed, and craved was feeding my ego right now.

  “What are you doing right now?” I asked.

  “I’m out shopping.”

  “Can we meet up in about an hour?”

  “Yes, I have no problem with that.” I could hear the anticipation in her words. She spoke hastily and with neediness in her voice.

  “I’ll text you the address in a minute. See you soon.” I hung up the phone before she could get another word in.

  Chapter 36

  Leroy

  Man-to-Man

  I walked out of my house to my car with takeover heavy on my mind. I was growing more and more frustrated as the days went by. I got to my car and hopped in. Then I looked over to see a note on the inside of the windshield of the car. I reached out and pulled it off. I opened it and read the following:

  I’m right under your nose. If you look hard enough, you just might find me. Man-to-man or maybe faggot-to-man.

  Ghost

  I was pissed that this muthafucker knew where I lived and somehow got access to my car. There was no need for me to have someone watching my house because I lived far away from where I did business. Now I was going to have to have surveillance at my house. I tried my best to keep my work away from my home, but now that this faggy bitch was upping the ante, I had to as well.

  I banged the wheel in frustration. This moment took me back to a time when I received the most devastating news of my life.

  I was about twelve or so, and I lived with my parents. I was an only child. We didn’t live in the projects but close to them. Both of my parents worked jobs to keep a roof over our heads. I never wanted for anything except for name-brand things. My parents didn’t feel the need to splurge on the higher priced and more popular shoes and clothes. Even though I didn’t get the name-brand things, I had everything that I ever needed. I was an average student in a school located in the city. My father
was a hardworking guy, and he made me proud to be his son. My parents had a good relationship from what I could see, but something changed, and one day, I came home and noticed that my father’s things were gone. My father was a very great athlete, and in our living room, he had all his memorabilia and trophies in a corner with a chair beside it. They were gone as well, along with his plaques and certificates. I mean, all his things were gone, like he never existed. I searched the house in a panic just in case I was mistaken.

  I was a latch-key child and almost always let myself in the house if my parents worked late or something like that. I was mature for my age and handled things differently for my age. I still messed up like all little boys my age, I just didn’t go crazy.

  Anyway, I got to my room and set my book bag on my bed and just sat on the bed. I usually would go get a snack from the refrigerator as soon as I got home, but that didn’t happen today. I was dumbfounded and curious. Then I thought maybe we were moving, but then, why would only his stuff be gone I wondered. I wasn’t sitting on my bed long before I heard the front door to the house open, and then the heavy footsteps of my father climbing the stairs. I got excited because I knew that he would have answers to questions that I had.

  As soon as he walked into my room, I hopped off of the bed and ran over to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist like I hadn’t seen him in weeks when just yesterday we sat down at the table for dinner. I didn’t know that would be our last time.

  “Hey, Roy,” my father hugged me back. “How’s my soldier?” I loved my father because we always had “man-to-man” conversations as he called them. I loved them and our bonding time.

  I pulled back with a smile on my face and looked up to him in admiration. “Daddy, where are all of your things?”

  “That’s why I’m here. We need to talk. Sit down on the bed for me. We need to talk, man-to-man.” I did as I was instructed. He, in turn, leaned up against one of my dressers with his hands in his pockets.

  “Leroy, you know that Daddy loves you, right?”

  “Yes, sir.” I nodded my head. He told me he loved me very often.

  “Well, Daddy has to move away for a little bit.”

  “Why?” I immediately got defensive and upset.

  “It’s hard to explain. Your mother and I have decided to live in separate places.”

  “Are y’all getting divorced?” I looked at him with fear in my eyes. A few tears welled up and then fell. My world was crumbling before me. He didn’t answer right away. He looked away for a quick second.

  “That is a possibility.”

  I sprang up off of the bed and ran over to him and gripped his waist again. I cried and begged him not to leave for over fifteen minutes. He promised that I would be able to come and stay with him as soon as he became stable. That day never came. I found out why because soon, my mother had to move from close to the projects into the projects. It was a huge shock and adjustment to us both. My mother cried and drank rather heavily after we moved in the projects. My attention declined toward my schoolwork, and I began to hang out with the rough guys that I steered clear of before we moved.

  I was about fifteen when I found out that my father left my mother for a man. During one of her drinking fits, she came into my bedroom and spilled her guts on the whole situation. To say I was devastated was an understatement. I didn’t want to believe it, so I called him one day and asked him. He told me the truth, and I hung up the phone on him. I haven’t spoken to him since that day. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. I didn’t care. All I knew is that another man took my father from my mother and broke up a happy home. My fiery hatred for all gay men was fueled that day. I pulled off after going back down a very painful memory.

  * * *

  “How many of these faggots do I have to kill to get to this bastard?” I banged my hands on the table I was sitting at with some of my top men sitting in front of me. I was at one of my stash houses having another meeting. I was pissed that I was not getting anywhere with finding this dick taker. Maybe I was looking too hard.

  “Any one of you have anything to tell me or show me? I need something to go on that will get me results.” I looked around the table. No one opened their mouth. It infuriated me even more. I was paying these muthafuck-ers good money. They were eating well off my years of hard work, and here, they are silent.

  “Since you old-ass fuckers in here can’t help me, I’m getting some fresh blood in this to get this shit going. It’s time to bring in the heir to the throne. It’s time to bring my son on board. He’s the key to this puzzle.”

  Chapter 37

  Monica

  Killing Me Softly

  If I could have clicked my heels three times, I would have been where I wanted and needed to be in a second, but I wasn’t a white bitch with a yappy dog chasing after her. I was a married kingpin’s wife on the way to find out if her husband was missing two extra legs and a tail.

  When Coach called me, I was in the middle of Saks Fifth Avenue in Arundel Mills Mall. I had a cart full of clothes and shoes that were calling me to buy them, but that didn’t matter because as soon as he called me, I dropped everything and all my attention was on his voice on the other end of the phone. I tried my best not to sound desperate or needy, and I don’t know if I succeeded in it, but I didn’t care. He had something that I needed. I didn’t even say a thing to the personal shopper that helped me pick out all the clothes for over a two-hour period. I would’ve been pissed off, but I didn’t care about some young chick on commission right now. My sanity was on the brain at this point.

  I was out of the store in seconds, and by the time I got to my car, I got the text that I was so desperately waiting to receive. It’s amazing how only a few seconds can feel like a lifetime, especially when you are desperately waiting on something.

  I pulled up to my destination with haste and exited my car. The place I pulled up to was a nice Italian restaurant with tons of people going in and out of it. I wasn’t a big fan of Italian food, except for those that were Americanized. Anyway, I walked up to the maître d’s podium to ask for my party but then realized that I didn’t know the coach’s name. I was embarrassed. I quietly and frantically looked past the gentleman and eyed the room in search of Coach. I quickly found him.

  “Good day, madam. Welcome to Antonio’s.” The maître d’ interrupted my frantic search.

  “Good day as well,” I greeted him and smiled. “My party is waiting on me over there.” I pointed in the direction of Coach’s table, but I didn’t move. I was waiting to be escorted over to the table. My feet and mind threatened to say fuck the waiting, but I did have some manners and etiquette. I waited. He must have seen the angst on my face because he quickly moved and escorted me to the table with Coach.

  “Monica.” His smile was wide and jubilant. It put me at ease. He rose from his chair and pulled out a seat for me. I sat down with my mind going in circles. I saw wine at the table. It immediately started to call my name. Maybe it was the news that I was hoping not to find out. You know, that fact that your whole life with someone was a lie. That you possibly had to start over with someone else or live with the lie. My husband wouldn’t be the first drug dealer with a chick on the side. I thought I was the exception. Maybe I wasn’t.

  I sat in silence for a few seconds, undecided on what to say.

  “Monica, I’m sure you know why you are here now.” Coach looked at me in the eyes. He was very good at concealing his feelings. I didn’t know what to think.

  “Yes, I do.” I put on a big-girl smile, but on the inside, I was a wreck. At this moment, I couldn’t even go with that “gut feeling” they say all women have. That shit was a lie that some uneducated muthafucker fed to us, but that’s not relevant right now.

  “Well, I brought you here, out in public, so that you could have someone here just in case it is not the news that you want. I told my guy to seal the envelope so that you were the only one to see the photos. I did it out of sensitivity of the situation
and your privacy.”

  “I respect and appreciate that gesture.” I still had the weak smile on my face. I had been through murders, kidnapping, drug deals gone bad, and child birth, but this shit was killing me softly as Lauryn Hill so eloquently sang the song.

  He placed the envelope on the table, tapped his hand on it, and slid it across the table to me. I felt the envelope as it entered my space. My fingers latched on to it like I was an angry octopus. I slid it toward me. The paper felt soft underneath my fingers. I looked down at it and willed it to open itself. I couldn’t do it. After all this time, waiting and filling up the empty time with nonsense just to get to this point, and then freeze up!

  “Are you okay?” Coach asked. His eyes were filled with understanding.

  “Yes, I’m . . .” I took a deep breath and then spoke, “No, I’m not good. I thought that I was in a better place than this. I trust my husband. I trusted my husband. I’ve been losing my mind over these last few days, and it has now come down to this. I’m the desperate chick with trust issues. I said that I never would be her or one of them. Now look at me. I had my husband followed, tracked, and traced. This is not normal.”

  “Normal is overrated. Plus, it’s you protecting yourself. No one can tell you what to do after you find out whatever you find out, but don’t beat yourself up for getting proof. You will sleep better at night knowing the truth, whether or not it be what you want.”

  I heard what he said, and I agreed, but it didn’t make this situation any easier.

  I picked up the envelope and carefully pulled it open. I was still stalling for time. I was mostly trying to control the reaction on my face. Fear was winning right at this moment. I finally had it opened; then I pulled out one of the pictures. I didn’t say anything as I looked at the picture. I pulled out another one and another one. There were about twelve pictures in total. I stacked them in a nice neat pile and put them back in the envelope. I was numb. I wasn’t in denial or disbelief. Just numb.