When It All Falls Down 3 - Somebody is Gonna Die: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady)

by Tamicka Higgins

  Cynthia and Rene continued on as Juan and Knight made their way upstairs from the basement. They paused when stepping into the living room, trying to not look at what was so obvious. They both couldn’t help it, however. Their eyes were drawn to the two chicks on their knees in front of Byron on his couch. Not only was it turning them on to watch what was going down, but they were also envious. He always flashed the most attractive chicks when they came around. Unlike other dudes they’d worked for and whatnot, Byron didn’t share. He didn’t even like them to look at his women, but it was so common for them to come into a place and see a naked woman with Byron.

  “What the fuck y’all niggas lookin’ at?” Byron asked. “Y’all niggas lookin’ like y’all ain’t never seen a nigga gettin’ his dick sucked or somethin’, shit.”

  Juan and Knight both turned their heads away immediately. “Okay,” Juan said. “I’mma just put the keys on the counter and shit, and we’ll be headed back over to the house.”

  “Y’all sure y’all doin’ shit to where them niggas can’t get out and shit, right?’ Byron asked. “I don’t need my ass on the news for sending some old niggas naked running down the street. Y’all niggas betta make sure they don’t get out, or I’mma really have to beat y’all asses.”

  Juan returned to standing next to Knight. The two of them noticed the way Byron’s muscles seemed to pump when he was a little pissed off about something. It was so hard to ignore the slurping and heaving breathing coming from the couch. Juan thought about the numerous chicks he’d gotten with who were fascinated at his size, but they were nothing close to what was on bended knees in front of Byron. Knight, on the other hand, generally had to go a few extra miles to get honeys of this caliber. And even then, they were size queens who would give him the business one way or another.

  “Yeah, man,” Knight said. “We got the room locked up real good and shit. You ain’t gotta worry about them getting out or nothing like that. We locked the door before we left and we make sure that we always do. We gave them the food and shit like you said. The husband dude is doing a lot betta and shit. The wife was just trippin’. She seem like the kinda bitch that worry a lot.”

  “Yeah, well, she’ll be all right,” Byron said. He rubbed both girls’ heads again before smiling and looking at Juan and Knight. “My goodness, this don’t make no sense. This is a beautiful thing, niggas. A beautiful thing.”

  “Well, we also gotta tell you what we heard about earlier when we was out,” Juan said. “Them niggas did it again.”

  “What the fuck y’all niggas talkin’ bout?” Byron asked, almost getting up. When he’d heard Rene, who was now giving him oral sex, gag from him suddenly rising up without warning, he quickly sat back down. He rubbed her head. “My bad, my bad.”

  Byron then looked back to Juan and Knight. “Huh, niggas?”

  “You sure you wanna talk about this, you know, with…?” Juan asked, his eyes trailing down to Rene and Cynthia on the floor.

  Byron looked down at the two, who hadn’t stopped for one second. It came to him that Juan may be right. He didn’t know these chicks well enough to have them listening in on what they were talking about. Byron also thought about how if one of them were to get thrown to the curb for the other one, that would be enough to make them go run and start talking too much.

  Byron told the two girls to take a break and that they could go upstairs and wait in the bedroom for him. He’d be up there shortly. Cynthia and Rene both stood up and made their way upstairs. Each step they took, Byron, Juan, and Knight watched the way their heavy, brown ass cheeks would jiggle. It was almost hypnotic.

  Once the girls were out of sight, the three men were able to move on with their conversation. Byron stood up, pulling his pants up over his erection and to his waist. He then grabbed his shirt and slid it over his head. He put himself together before demanding, “So, niggas, what the fuck y’all waitin’ on?”

  “They robbed more banks,” Juan said, flatly. He, himself, was getting a little irritated with how Byron talked to him and Knight. “We heard about that shit on the radio. You know, one of them news things where they break in to report some shit. They even said they full names and everything.”

  “What?” Byron asked, quietly. “Them niggas is really on the run and shit. I really got them niggas out there doin’ some dumb shit, don’t I?”

  Knight snickered. “Yeah,” he said. “You do, man. You do. The news said that they robbed two banks over in Indiana, in some little towns over there or some shit that I can’t remember. And that ain’t all.”

  “And?” Byron asked, clearly wanting to know more.

  “Them niggas killed a security guard at one of the banks,” Juan said. “The little news report thing was saying that the dude died at the hospital hours later or some shit. The Tramar nigga is the one who I think robbed that bank and killed him.”

  “Damn,” Byron said, rubbing his chin. “I just got off the phone with them niggas not too long ago, really. Prolly like twenty minutes or something like that. They did sound distraught as fuck. They was talkin’ all stupid and shit, prolly ‘cause they asses know they runnin’ out of time and shit.”

  “Well, the news said that they found the motel rooms and recovered some money, but that details were still waiting,” Knight said. “I mean, they still waiting on further details. The radio cut back in at that point, but I know the shit is prolly gon’ be on the news tonight.”

  “Yeah,” Byron said. “Maybe if I ain’t too busy, I can tune in and see. In fact,” Byron chuckled, as a funny idea had just come to him, “why don’t you all show our guests and shit over at the house the news when it comes on and shit. Let’s see what they think.”

  Juan and Knight both grinned.

  “So, if them niggas are on the run,” Byron said. “And they gettin’ them rooms and shit busted into, then I wonder if they really gon’ have all the money or not. They doin’ a lot to get a million.”

  “You gotta do a lot to get a million anyway,” Juan said, holding his hands out. “So? And you had to do a lot to get the money they walked outta here with. Even if it wasn’t your last or nothin’ like that, you still had to do a lot to get it. Fuck what they gotta do.”

  Byron reached out and shook Juan’s hand. “Damn, nigga,” he said, smiling. “I like your thinking and shit. That shit was brilliant. I still wonder what they next move is gon’ be.”

  ***

  Ayana was so nervous when she stepped out in the cool, fall air that notoriously whipped through Chicago. She waited for Sharli to answer, each ring seeming to last twice as long as the previous ring. By the time Sharli answered, Ayana was nearly at the point of hanging up. Breathing heavily, Sharli said, “Hello? Hello?”

  “Damn, girl,” Ayana said. “Are you okay or what? Did you have to run upstairs to answer the phone and stuff? Don’t hurt yourself, girl.”

  “Naw, girl,” Sharli said. “I’m fine. So, what the hell is going on, Ayana? And don’t lie to me and say nothing. I done already seen the news, and I know that something is going on. You try to act like there isn’t, but I know. I saw the news and shit and them niggas is in big trouble, not only with Illinois, but you know them white people over in Indiana are really gon’ go after his ass. You know how they can’t let shit go over there.”

  Ayana took a deep breath and chose her words carefully. “Sharli,” she said, “do you feel like I can trust you? And I need you to be really honest about this, okay? I really need to know if I can trust you.”

  “Oh my God,” Sharli said. “I can’t even believe that you would ask me something like that when you know how long we’ve known each other and been around each other and stuff. You know you can trust me. When have I ever did you wrong, Ayana? Huh? When have I ever did you wrong?”

  Ayana thought about it for a moment before answering. “Never, I guess,” she said. “But, this is a big fuckin’ deal, okay. I know what you said you saw on the news, and, yeah, it is true.”

  “O
h my God,” Sharli exclaimed. “Why, Ayana? Why? I mean, I knew they was always out in these streets making money the only way a lot of these niggas know how to make some money, but why they gotta escalate to robbin’ banks and shit. Robbin’ banks is for white people and desperate people. The only niggas you see robbin’ banks are the ones who ain’t really smart enough to come up with the money no other way.”

  Ayana cringed, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at the darkening sky. “Yeah, well,” she said, thinking of an old saying she’d heard in school, “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

  “But why?” Sharli asked. “That’s just what I’m try’na understand. I just wanna know why, girl.”

  “‘Cause something happened, Sharli,” Ayana said. “And, actually, that’s why I called you back. I ain’t know what I was supposed to say earlier, but we need your help.”

  “Um,” Sharli said. “Girl, you know, um, I do hair. I don’t know nothin’ about holdin’ no guns and runnin’ up in no banks or no shit like that. The only time I even go into a bank is to try to cash a check or something. You know how the bank be treatin’ us when we go in there. I don’t even like to deal with they asses, especially not after how they did me back when. Don’t you remember, girl?”

  “Okay, Sharli, okay,” Ayana said, trying to stop Sharli from going any further on her tangent. “I ain’t talkin’ bout we need help like that. I need to know how you know this dude named Byron. I went on your Facebook page and saw the post you was talkin’ bout, the one that we talked about and stuff the other day or whenever it was. I need to know how you know him ‘cause…just ‘cause.”

  “Girl, that is this nigga that everybody around here know,” Sharli said, in an excited tone. “That’s Byron. I don’t remember his last name, but I always used to see him around here when I was growing up and shit. He a little older than us, but not much. I do know that he used to get niggas together out on the corners if they ain’t have what they was supposed to have. Girl, I remember this time he beat this one dude’s ass so bad he literally sent him running down the street crying. It was so bad.”

  “So, what?” Ayana asked. “Do he stay over there or what?”

  “Naw,” Sharli said. “Not that I know of. I do know that he got friends over here and shit. This one dude, Damon. I’m friends with him on Facebook, not Byron.”

  “Oh,” Ayana said, recognizing that this was her key to finding out what she needed to know. “And how do you know Damon? I mean, is he coo with Byron and stuff. I swear, girl. We ain’t try’na do nothin’ to get you in trouble, but you saw the picture of Tramar’s stepmother, Miss Vivica.” Ayana looked back at the entrance of Chuck-E-Cheese. “That is some real shit, and we really gotta find her and his daddy before something bad happens. Girl, please, how do you know Damon, and you think you know him well or what?”

  “Girl, we used to talk for a little bit, but it wasn’t even nothin’ serious,” Sharli explained. “We still friends and stuff. Sometimes I see him when we go places.”

  “But how is he coo with Byron then?” Ayana asked. “I mean, you said you friends with him and that’s your connection, I guess, to Byron.”

  “Girl, I think they might be related or almost best friends or something,” Sharli said. “I take that back. I think they run in the same circles and shit and just know a lot of the same people.”

  “I see,” Ayana said, trying to think of how this information could be valuable to Tramar and Jackson. “Girl, please don’t tell nobody what is goin’ on.”

  “Girl, you know I won’t,” Sharli said. “You know I won’t tell nobody. I just want you to come back to us safe. Wait a minute. Where are y’all at anyway?”

  “I…” Ayana began, hesitantly. “I can’t say. I just can’t say, girl. I don’t even know where we at like that. All I know is that we somewhere far out, far out from the city. I can’t see no tall buildings or nothin’ like that to even start to tell you where the fuck I’m at. All I see is dark woods and houses and little condo-type shit with white people in it. Girl, I never been so scared in my life. I swear.”

  “Girl, let me help y’all,” Sharli insisted. “Let me help y’all. What can I do? I can’t just sit here while y’all out there on the run and runnin’ blind. What about Vivica and Tramar’s daddy. How y’all gon’ get them two back?”

  “That’s the thing, Sharli,” Ayana said. “That’s why we need to find this Byron dude. That’s what we need your help with. We need to find out where this Byron nigga is without him finding out that we lookin’ for him.”

  “I see,” Sharli said, her voice telling Ayana that she was on the other end contemplating. “Girl, I gotta think about it. I mean, I could hit up Damon and act like I was just seein’ what he was up to. But I don’t know how y’all would even get to meet up with him and stuff without it looking suspicious.”

  “Well,” Ayana said, feeling as if she were pulling at straws. “I mean, do he sell or what?”

  “You know what,” Sharli said. “I think he do.”

  Ayana then realized that would be their way in. Hopefully, they would be able to meet up with him tonight. “Girl, I know what you can do.”

  Ayana explained her idea to Sharli before the two of them had gotten off of the phone. She then quickly rushed back into Chuck-E-Cheese. As she pushed her way through the bobbing heads of children scattered across the aisles, she made her way back to the booth. She sat down across from Jackson and Tramar.

  “So, what she say?” Tramar asked.

  “I know just what we can do so y’all can meet up with her connection to Byron,” Ayana said. “The dude that Sharli know that know Byron sells. She gon’ text me after she call him and see if he can meet up tonight with y’all to get some. Sharli gon’ vouch for y’all since she said that he really don’t like dealing with people that he don’t know like that.”

  “Yeah,” Tramar said. “I feel him on that.”

  “His name is Damon,” Ayana continued. “Sharli said that she used to talk to him, and that he real cool with Byron. Y’all up for going to meet with him tonight?”

  Jackson shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so,” he said. “I mean, what other choice we got?”

  “But this nigga prolly ain’t gon’ just open up to us and tell us whatever we need to know about Byron’s bitch ass,” Tramar said. “He especially probably won’t if it’s the first time that he meetin’ us and the first time that we buyin’ from him.”

  “Fuck that,” Jackson said. “Then we just gon’ have to make him talk.”

  Before the conversation could move forward, a Chuck-E-Cheese employee had walked up to the table and dropped off their pizza. When she walked away, they continued with Tramar saying, “I’m down with that. I don’t give a fuck what we gotta do or say. The nigga is close to Byron and shit, so I wanna know what he know, and if he know where we can find Byron. We ain’t even gotta tell him our names and shit. Oh, snap!” Tramar looked at Ayana. “Did you tell Sharli to use different names when she call him and tell him that we try’na meet him tonight?”

  Ayana’s eyes opened wide. “No,” she answered. “I mean, I hope that she would think to do that if she know that, from what she’d seen on the news, that she would be smart enough to use different names.”

  In a panic, Ayana pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Sharli back. When Sharli answered, she got straight to the point of telling her that she needed to use different names.

  “Girl, I was just thinkin’ the same thing,” Sharli said. “When I was sendin’ the text, I thought about that. I put that they names was James and Greg, okay?”

  Quickly, Ayana said okay. Sharli told her that she’d text her when Damon responded to her messages. When Ayana set her phone down, she smiled. “See, what I tell you?” she said. “You guys are now named James and Greg.”

  “James and Greg?” Tramar asked, a little smile forming on his face. “So, who the fuck supposed to be James and who gon’ be Greg?”

&nb
sp; “I take James,” Jackson said. “I don’t wanna be named Greg. Something about that name that just don’t seem right for a nigga. Greg.” He shook his head.

  “Now, we gotta think about our other problem,” Ayana said. “The cars. How long we gon’ ride around in them cars?”

  “Shit,” Tramar said. “I was try’na not think about that shit, but she right, man.” He looked at Jackson. “We gon’ have to get out of them cars. Or, if nothing else, can we find some other plates to put on them.”

  “Actually,” Jackson said, smiling. Working in car theft rings had been his specialty since he was practically a teenager. He’d lost count of just how many cars he’d helped to steal. However, he did know that he’d seen some cars that were similar to both his and Tramar’s car. That would certainly work in their favor. “Y’all,” Jackson said, “we really are gon’ have a busy Saturday night. I can make a couple calls to these niggas, I know. They savages, really. And see what kinda plates they might have that would match our cars and shit. I ain’t so much worried about my car, but it’s your car nigga that stick out more.”

  Tramar thought about his red Dodge Charger. He’d seen some out on the streets of Chicago, but they were definitely something that you’d see more of down in the hood, especially on the south side. “Make your calls, nigga,” he said. “‘Cause even if we do get some other cars by jackin’ some nigga for his, we still gon’ have the cops breathin’ down our necks because we ridin’ around in a car that’s been reported stolen and shit. Let’s see what we can do. And Ayana, be lookin’ for your cousin to text you back. I’m ready as soon as that nigga Damon is, so we can figure out how we gon’ go about findin’ Byron. I don’t give a fuck if we gotta hold a gun to this nigga’s head to get him to tell us. I’mma fuckin’ find out.”