He always kept a low profile but people knew the name if they didn’t know anything else. Respect rang out in hoods as an upcoming legend. Niggas started calling him Ree-spect because he had so much of it that it was befitting. By the time he reached New York, he had put together an army of soldiers including Fats, Deets, and Chauncey and decided to initiate a takeover. It was bloody, and bodies dropped, but in the end there was a new king. Now niggas was doing his dirty work and he was the connect. Although Ree never had to pull a trigger after that because he knew any one of his men would love to do it just to earn his praise, he couldn’t explain the thrill he got from ending a nigga’s life when it came to something personal. He had killed too many to count and it soon became so easy for him. That’s what was so daunting about Ree. His calmness and cool demeanor, even when dealing with the most serious matters, made it impossible to tell that he was a ruthless, no-thoughts-about-it killer.
And the women, well the women, they loved him. Not only was he mysterious, but he was also powerful, and women loved power and they loved the challenge he presented when he never put anything ahead of his business, including them. It was funny the way that worked—they were attracted to a man who made them feel like they weren’t important.
After he dismissed Deets, Ree walked out onto his vast balcony to take a moment to himself. He owned a lavish home in West Orange, New Jersey, and the estate once belonged to legendary fighter Muhamad Ali. The area was quiet and discreet with very little police traffic, a perfect fit for a low-profile criminal.
His cell phone rang in his pocket; he pulled it out and looked at the name. Tatum. Damn, that girl did something to him. She wasn’t like any other woman he had ever met and he was enjoying making room in his life for her. But, not right now, baby, he thought as he pushed the ignore button. He was still in business mode.
He looked out at the sky and tried to concentrate on his next move. How was he going to go about opening this new operation? Would he need to recruit new bodies? Was Chauncey ready to step up? But somehow, way after the phone stopped ringing, Tatum kept finding her way back into his head.
No he didn’t send me to voice mail. Tatum was shocked. She hardly called the nigga. Hell, she hardly called any nigga, and now when she did, he sent her to voice mail.
“You have reached . . . nine . . . seven . . . three. . . .” Tatum hung up.
She cursed herself because she was really starting to dig him and she knew she was in for trouble. She prided herself on not being one of these silly girls chasing these dope boys and destined for heartbreak. Plus, she already didn’t like the fact that she would have to get used to not having all of his time if they ever were involved in a relationship. Even now, one minute he was spending time with her and the next, he was too involved to even pick up his phone. He was always running in and out of state and even once out of the country since they’d started dating, back all the way to Jamaica, to handle his “business.”
But the time that they did spend together was so, so good. Since their first date, he had done nothing but surprise her.
He sent her different-colored roses for each day of the week, closed down a museum for just the two of them, sent drivers in luxury cars just to pick her up from class, and even rubbed her feet after long days on the job, all the while providing stimulating conversation. She looked down at her cell phone hoping that he would call her back before class. Still no Ree.
She started getting that feeling that a girl gets when she has it bad. Everything he said and did captured her and held her, and left her waiting for more. They had the best chemistry, the best energy, and still no sex. He had her wide open, and little did she know she had him the same.
It was 5:55 P.M., and just as Tatum was about to walk into her classroom and take her favorite seat against the wall, her phone began ringing in her gold Dior bag.
Watch this be Kim’s dumb ass. She looked down at the screen. Oh my God, it’s him. It’s him. It’s him, it’s him, it’s him! She screamed, in her head, silently of course. She let it ring three times before she accepted the call.
“Hello.” Her voice was composed, gentle and inviting.
“Why you not in class, Ms. Mosley?” he asked coolly. Tatum could tell that he was relaxed. He probably had just got done smoking, she was beginning to learn a lot about his routine. She didn’t care, it was all him, it was all sexy.
“I’m getting there,” she answered, matching his same cool demeanor. If only he could see her cheesing on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah well, I hope you’re getting here after that.”
She could feel herself becoming weak, she hadn’t had sex in so long and the way that he had touched on her back and kissed on her neck the last time she visited him, it still made her legs literally shake.
“Yeah, I can get there, that is if the bossman got time for little ol’ me.”
He chuckled at her sarcasm.
“Well, Ms. Lady, I treat my time like I treat my money. If I ain’t got it I make it, so don’t you worry about that.”
She giggled.
“Ooh that’s real smooth, Ree.”
“Well, ya know, I’m a smooth kinda guy. But, just get ya ass to class and then get here.”
“Okay, boss, I’ll call you when I’m on my way,” Tatum joked.
“No, don’t call, just come.”
And with that, he hung up. Just come, Tatum thought to herself and smiled at her nasty mind. I just might do that.
Sasha drove home from work singing along to Jhene’ Aiko’s “The Worst” and trying hard not to cry.
As she pulled into her complex, the summer night air gave her a chill that made her quiver—it was a peculiar feeling. She parked her car and glanced in her rearview mirror, trying to accept the fact that Chauncey didn’t give a damn about her. If he did, he wouldn’t have left her all alone without a reason, and he wouldn’t be bouncing around with hoodrats like Tasha and lord knows who else.
I’m a dime, a full package, and any man would be happy to have me. I’m beautiful, I’m smart, and I take damn good care of my man. I’m the shit, Sasha thought studying her watery eyes.
Her caramel complexion was unblemished but accompanied by a red Rudolph nose from crying so much. Other than that, she was traditionally flawless as always. She took one more look at her beautiful face and regained her confident swagger. She stepped out of the car with her door key ready and glanced at the black Denali parked next to her. It looked familiar but she couldn’t place her finger on it. Oh well.
She walked up the stairs and down the hallway toward her apartment door. Her feet were killing her and she couldn’t wait to soak them. Her complex was dead quiet and all you could hear were the crickets chirping. Instantly she felt a wave of apprehension come over her, as if she wasn’t alone, but as she looked around, she saw no one. Anxious to get into her apartment, Sasha scurried to her front door.
Just as she began to stick her key into the lock, a sharp pain went through her skull like a splitting headache. When she put her hand to her head and felt it wet with blood, she realized she had been struck in the back of the head with something. She wanted to scream but it hurt so badly.
She turned around to see who had hit her but her vision was blurry. She felt sleepy, her body slumped down to the ground, and then everything went black.
Chapter 5
Regret
Kim couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation between her and Sasha. That was her girl, like her sister, and she didn’t want to see her hurt. She knew she probably did the right thing by telling Sasha the truth, so she could get over Chauncey, but she still wanted to check in on her.
She dialed Sasha’s number for the third time in a row, and as it rang and rang, she thought of hanging up and just talking to her later, but something inside told her to keep calling. The hospital said that she had left work an hour ago and Sasha always picked up her phone, even if it was to let her know that she was sleeping or busy. Maybe I’m
bugging, Kim thought to herself. But something didn’t feel right.
“Hello,” Tatum answered half asleep.
“Tay, you heard from Sash?” Kim asked.
She heard the baritone of a male voice in the background.
“Ooh Tay, where you at, bitch?” Kim asked, just knowing her girl was at Ree’s getting it in.
“Shut up, Kim. Nah, I ain’t heard from her since earlier, why?”
“Cause she ain’t picking up her phone, and I know she was pissed when I told her about Chaunc being at the motel with that chick Tasha.”
“Well, maybe she went to talk to him about it, or maybe she don’t wanna be bothered right now . . . something like me,” Tatum quipped.
“Whatever, Tay . . . tell me the truth, how was it?”
Tatum let out a loud sigh. Ree was lying next to her and she needed to get back into his muscular, tattooed arms pronto.
“Bye Kim.”
“Wait! You fucked him, right? He got a big dick? He looks like he got a big dick too,” Kim squealed, getting excited.
“Bye Kim,” Tatum repeated, ready to hang up.
“All right, girl, tell Ree I said hi. Girl, you better had did ya thing, CBP!” She shouted out before hanging up, which stood for Come back pussy, Kim’s self-made gang.
Kim then dialed Neli and asked her if she had heard from Sasha. Neli responded by saying that Sasha was the last person she wanted to hear from and then hung up.
Kim wondered what the hell her problem was.
Kim knew she had one more option. She picked up the phone and went to her phone list under C. She took a deep breath.
Finding the right number, she hit call, listened to the long rings, and waited for Chauncey to answer.
When Sasha regained consciousness she was tied to a chair in her dining room looking down the barrel of a gun. She went to scream but her sounds were muffled by the cloth tied snugly around her mouth. The two men began to come into focus. She started to scream through the cloth again, going crazy trying to wiggle free.
“Bitch, shut the fuck up before I split ya fucking wig!” one of the men screamed and Sasha stopped immediately.
“Where’s the money?” the other guy asked, pressing the cold metal to her forehead. Sasha began to cry.
“Bitch, where the fucking money at?”
This time he hit her bluntly with the 9 millimeter. She cried out in agony.
“Yo Rico, her mouth is gagged,” the ugly one with the scar said.
“Nigga, don’t be saying my name! Now we gotta kill the bitch.” Sasha’s eyes widened in fear.
The ugly one looked down at Sasha’s breasts. He liked her. “Nah, we don’t gotta kill her. Listen, just tell us where ya man keeps the money, baby, and we won’t hurt you.”
Sasha took a deep breath and began to talk but of course they couldn’t make out what she was saying because of the cloth. Stupid muthafuckas, got my mouth gagged and asking me questions. Chauncey gonna kill they asses when he find this shit out.
Then it hit her that Chauncey wouldn’t be walking through that door to save her. Nobody would.
I’m going to die here and no one’s going to save me. Not Mommy, not Daddy, not Chauncey, not Tatum.
Sasha became hysterical again, trying to scream and break free.
“Shut up!” they both barked at her, but she kept yelping through the cloth hoping someone would hear her. Whack! There was that pain, and then everything went black again.
“Who dis?”
“Chauncey, it’s me, Kim.”
Kim figured Chauncey would curse her out for telling Sasha that she saw him at the motel. She knew Chauncey didn’t really care for her much anyway. He felt like Sasha was above hanging out with the likes of her.
“What up?” he asked, emotionless.
He obviously had no clue that she had told Sasha, he was just wondering why Kim was calling him. This piqued Kim’s interest even more.
“Listen, Chauncey, did Sasha call you?”
Chauncey sat quiet for a minute. He was hoping Sasha hadn’t found out about him and Neli.
“Nah, I ain’t hear from Sash . . . why, should I be hearing from Sash?” he asked curiously.
“Nah, it’s just that she was upset earlier and I can’t find her. She ain’t answering her phones and nobody has heard from her.”
Chauncey didn’t give it a second thought. He knew Sasha drifted to herself when she wanted to be alone. She wasn’t like Kim, always out there, needing to be surrounded by a bunch of people. His baby girl was special.
“She probably taking a bath or something, or sleeping. I know she be tired from that second shift. She all right, maybe she just ain’t answering your calls.”
Kim hadn’t thought of that.
“Maybe . . . Listen, Chauncey, the reason Sasha was mad is because I told her something about you.”
Chauncey felt sick. He knew this was coming one day.
“What? Well, what did you tell her?”
Kim was a little scared. Chauncey had been known to be a little crazy, but Sasha was her girl, so she figured fuck it.
“I told her I saw you at the motel a week ago.”
Chauncey put his hand over his mouth. He was furious. Kim continued.
“You know, when you were there with Tasha.”
“What? I wasn’t with no—” He stopped short. This bitch said Tasha. She didn’t know about Neli and he was instantly relieved.
“Yo Kim, that ain’t even your concern, ma. Me and Sash ain’t even together right now.”
“I know but that’s my girl, and she was going to invite you over so I was just telling her why I thought it was a bad idea. Obviously you doing ya thing,” Kim added with a little attitude. Chauncey cracked a smile at the thought of his princess missing him. He missed her too, something serious.
“Yeah, aight, just know that’s why she ain’t answering ya calls ... ’cause you talk too damn much.”
At that, he hung up. He knew that was something he could get out of. He lay back on his bed in his extravagantly decorated condo. His Gucci sheets were disheveled since his bed hadn’t been made all week.
Every night he was eating takeout and the revolving door of women were becoming faceless and nameless. He stared at the ceiling and thought of how shit got started with Neli.
Chauncey had moved out to Brooklyn after he caught his first body at the tender age of fourteen. He would do just about anything to get paid: look out, storage, even little stick-up-kid shit, until he met Ree, and Ree put him on, really put him on. He had him seeing G’s and keys out the ass. Two custom whips before Chauncey even had a license. Beautiful women were at his beck and call. The shit little niggas dream about.
Chauncey had been wanting to put his nigga Chris on, so when shit started getting a little hot and Chaunc pitched Ree the idea of expanding to Jersey, Ree said they could make it a part of the equation. The whole squad crossed the Hudson and locked the Garden State down, leaving Ree’s partner to take total control of the Brooklyn operations, giving Ree 40 percent of the profits made from the cartel and the underground rap labels they had their hands in.
Well, one day Chauncey was at Chris’s house going over the plans when Chris’s little sister, Tatum, walked in. He hadn’t seen her since she was little and God damn she was bad, but she was like family, you know, so it was nothing. But behind her she had her girls with her and when she introduced them, one caught his eye and wouldn’t let go.
“Sasha,” she drawled, with a Southern accent. Her eyes, her smile, the way she moved, the girl was fly and she knew it. Built like a model and high class, he could tell. She had it good, probably middle-class suburban chick trying to play it like she hood. Chauncey remembered when she pulled out her Tiffany & Co. mirror and applied her Chanel lip gloss.
He chuckled to himself because he knew that she was stunting for him. With her back to him she tilted her mirror to get a glimpse of him but he caught her. They locked eyes and she tilted her head
bashfully, then she looked up again with that innocent Bambi look. She had him.
Chauncey spent the rest of the night subliminally getting at her. He knew it wasn’t a good time to be getting caught up in anything serious, and as much as he tried to convince himself that he was just trying to hit, he knew she was something a little special.
There was another girl though that was real persistent. Bending over, licking her lips, and everything. And she was cute but she was a turn-off. She was too open, treating her pussy like it wasn’t worth nothing. Neli, that’s what she put in his phone as he was leaving. And when he did call her she was so excited, but it was only because he wanted Sasha’s number. Then she acted like she didn’t have it. Best fucking friends and didn’t have her number.
He got it anyway from Tatum, and it was on after that. But even when he and Sasha started getting serious, the girl wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t anything Chauncey couldn’t handle so he didn’t tell Sash, but the girl was still sick with it.
One time Chauncey threw Sasha a birthday party at a loft where he had liquor, food, and good weed for everybody in attendance. He had gotten a little note Sasha had passed off to some chick telling him to meet her in one of the bedrooms, and when he walked in there Neli was butt-ass naked fingering herself. Now even though Chauncey was pure nigga, and that was some hard shit to walk away from, he did it, and he went back to Sasha and fucked the shit out of her that night.
But one night, things went down a little differently. Chauncey was at Chris’s bachelor party, passed out drunk. The strippers were leaving and Chaunc, E, and Chris were too fucked up to even move so they passed out at the suite. Neli had come there talking about how she thought Tatum would be there. Why would Tatum be at her brother’s bachelor party? Anyway she climbed on the bed and told Chris she was going to give him a wedding gift. Chris had planned on banging out one of the strippers but it didn’t happen.
He said fuck it, and Neli started stroking him through his jeans all the while looking at Chauncey. Then she stood up and undressed, leaving on her heels, and started dancing. E was passed out but Chris was wide awake. Chauncey was drunk as hell but he was still watching the show. Shit, he was horny, and Sasha was in Atlanta visiting her family.
Thicker Than Water Page 6
