There Can Only Be One

by Hood Rich

  I drank out of the Champagne and sat back. “Bruh, you’ve grown up with him ever since y’all was what age?”

  “Five.”

  “That’s thirteen years. You should know him better than anybody?”

  “Yeah, well you and Paper got the same relationship. If something like that happened between you and him, would you tell him what was good? Or would you keep it to yourself, and figure things out on the low?”

  “Do you love his sister, be honest?”

  Macho shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, I kinda love my lady that I got at home with my daughter. She’s been with me since day one. Even chopped up a few hoodies with me. She’s my rider, Mariella is just so beautiful, she reminds me of Shakira. I’ve never in my life seen someone so fine. Her body is amazing as well and she’s so smart for her age. I guess being around her so much, things just started to shape, and one thing led to another. I don’t want to lose, Porky over is." He swallowed and blinked his eyes repeatedly.

  I could tell the situation was getting to him more than he was letting on. He couldn’t stay still his eyes scanned the entire restaurant.

  “I say you tell him what’s good. Just keep it real with him. And you gone have to give him more than what you just gave me. You expect him to accept that you were thinking she was so fine, you couldn’t stay away from her. That makes you sound like a predator. It’s not a good look.”

  Macho nodded his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, I’ma do that, but I want you to do me a favor. Can you be there when I tell him? He looks up to you. I think he’ll hear you out more than he would me at this point.”

  * * *

  That Saturday night, I invited the Misfits bosses and Porky, to The Garden of Eden, and made sure that they were supreme V.I.P. treatment. I had them ducked off in a private room on the second level, right above the main stage. Two dancers Poverty and Magic sat on their laps and gave them slow lap dances, while I sat across from them drinking a bottle of Dom Perignon and smoking a big blunt.

  I was high, and a little drunk, Drake’s ‘Nice for What’ banged out of the speakers, while Poverty and Magic did their thing. Chasity stepped into the private room and sat on my lap. She wore a skin-tight Balienci suit that clung to her every curve. She sat on my lap, wrapped her arm around my neck, and leaned in for a kiss, but I moved my head out of reach.

  She frowned and jerked her head backward. "What’s the matter with you?" She sounded angry.

  I shook my head. “Nothing, I’m trying to do right by, Aaliyah, that’s all. She about to pop out my kid, and I just put that ring on her finger. Time to be on some grown man shit now. She deserves that.”

  Chasity sucked her teeth. “Boy!” She kissed my lips and licked them. “I ain’t trying to break up yo’ happy home. Congratulations! Long as you give me some of this dick when I need it. I couldn’t care less who you marry. Straight up." She kissed my cheek and rose from my lap. Her big ass was all in my face.

  I couldn’t do nothing but shake my head. I already saw that temptations were going to be the hardest part to conquer. Especially being around so many bad, aggressive ass women. Not one of the females in either one of my clubs were less than a dime. I made sure of that.

  “Yo’, Poverty, Magic, y’all leave us alone for a while. I gotta holler at my niggas.”

  Poverty stood up and Macho’s hands fell from her ass that was encased in a pink thong. The cheeks were decorated with freckles. She walked away with both cheeks jiggling like crazy. She looked over her shoulder and blinked at me.

  Magic was caramel-skinned and super bad. She was from Memphis and strapped like all she ate was soul food and did crunches all day long. Her body was strapped, yet she ain’t have no stomach. The first day she walked into the club I wanted to kill that shit, but I hadn’t. Aaliyah was getting to me. She stood up, and Porky pulled his fingers out of her pussy. He stuck them into his mouth and slapped her ass. She yelped and walked bowlegged out of the room. Both had left with ten thousand knots and I would hit them with two gees later for entertaining my homies.

  I got up and closed the door behind her. Then I lowered the blinds in the room and took my seat. “A’ight, bruh, I just wanna let y’all know that I love both of you. I’d do anything for either one of you in a heartbeat. That being said, I feel like we’re all family. And sometimes in a family, there are things that are hard to get over and past, but it’s something that must be done.” I looked from Porky to Macho.

  Porky laughed, picked up a bottle of Patron from the table and turned it up. His Adam’s apple moved up and down. When he set the once full bottle back down, it was now half gone. He burped and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Say what’s on your mind, Hood Rich, damn.”

  I nodded at Macho. “Hear lil’ homie out.”

  Macho stood up and sighed. He grabbed the bottle of Patron from the table and turned it up. "A’ight, Porky, I did something that I know ain’t gon’ sit right wit’ you, bruh. I want to apologize ahead of time. I swear I’m gon’ make things right. All you gotta do is give me a chance."

  Porky scrunched his face and looked up to me. He mugged Macho and ran his chubby hand over his face. "What the fuck you, niggas keeping from me, huh? You got something you need to say to me, Macho. You say it. You’re getting me hot, Ese." He rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans.

  Macho sat on the couch across from him. He exhaled slowly and shook his head. "It’s Mariella."

  Porky scrunched his face harder and mugged, Macho. "What about, Mariella, Homes?"

  “Bruh, I know you trusted me. She’s like my sister and we’ve grown up together. But I fucked up. I just hope you can forgive me and give me a chance to do what I need too. Because I—"

  Porky lowered his eyes. “What the fuck are you saying, Ese? All I hear are a bunch of words that aren’t making any sense. What the fuck does, Mariella, have to do with anything?” He hollered as his double chin shook.

  “I got her pregnant, Porky! I screwed up and got her pregnant. I didn’t mean to it just happened, bruh. I’m sorry, but you know, I’m going to handle my responsibility for her. She’s like my kid sister just as much as yours.”

  Porky sat on the couch clenching his jaw. It was like I could see steam coming from the top of his head. He nodded and looked up at me. “How long did you know about this?”

  “Just a few days, bruh. He came to me with it, and I thought I should be present when he told you. I’m just here as the big brother. That’s it.” I sat back on the couch and looked him over. I was so high, I could barely keep my eyes open.

  Porky turned to Macho and smiled. “We’re brothers’ man. I’ve never had a friend other than you. You’re the only person I trust in this life and in the next. Even more than Santa Maria.” He was quiet for a long time. The Migos, ‘Stir Fry’, boomed out of the speakers. The room felt eerie and odd. I didn’t know what to say to break the tension.

  “I’m sorry man. I swear to God, I’m sorry,” Macho pleaded.

  Porky pulled his nose. “She’s my little sister, only have one. She wants to go off to college, so she can become a doctor. The first one in the family. I’ve put two hundred thousand away for her, now this,” he scoffed. “My right-hand man at that.” He shook his head. “Well, I can’t really blame you, Hood Rich. Thank you for encouraging him to tell me.” He leaned over and shook my hand, and then it was like everything happened in slow motion. His face turned into a scowl. He jumped up, pulled out two .45s, cocked them, and let ‘em rip into

  Macho’s face, and torso.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

  The guns jumped in his hands again and again as fire spit out of the barrels. Smoke wafted into the air and Macho’s body filled with one bloody hole after the next. It got to the point that I was able to stand up and Porky kept right on bussing until his guns were empty. Twenty shell casings decorated the carpet.

  He looked down at Macho and spit on his bloody carcass. "All snakes gotta die muthafuck
a. Ain’t no room in this garden for your kind." He picked up his shell casings one by one, and dropped them into the Patron bottle, kicking Macho in the ribs. "I’ll have my Misfits clean up this mess. I’m sorry for the disrespectful, Homes."

  Ten minutes later he had his men stuff Macho into a metal garbage can. They took his body out through the back door. Then Porky spent the next three hours completely cleaning the room with three of his men, while I sat in my office with my head on my desk. I felt depleted.

  Chapter 12

  I got right back to the money. Hustling as hard as I could literally two days later. In a matter of a week, I’d flown and driven across the country making drop-offs. Most times I used hustlers from my crew to do it. But it was right after, Macho got killed that I started doing it myself, and had my hittas follow close behind me. I found the peace and quiet comforting. I had so many things going through my mind that the silence was needed. The open road gave me a piece of mind and allowed me to put things into perspective. I felt like I was drowning somewhat.

  I knew that I had to follow, Aaliyah’s advice and get the hell out of our city, so I was finding different ways to do that in my head. I ran into Paper at Macho’s burial. I was down on one knee saying a prayer in my head when he tapped me on the shoulder disrupting that.

  I looked up at him with anger. “What’s good, bruh?” I stood up and took his hand off me and mugged my hittas for allowing him to get so close. I would deal with them later that was for sure.

  He took a step back and smiled. All his teeth looked yellow. He smelled like funk mixed with cologne. He also looked as if he was ten pounds skinnier than when I’d seen him last. “Damn, baby, it’s all good.” He laughed, then started to cough. He wiped his mouth with his hand. “I need some help, Rich, or should I call you Hood Rich like everybody else?”

  Macho’s mother walked past crying her eyes out. She shook her head and had to be held up my Macho’s older sister who rubbed her back the whole way.

  I walked past, Paper and stopped in front of her. "Ma’am, I’m so sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to call this number." I handed her my card and wrote my personal cell phone numbers on the back of them. I had a heavy heart. Macho was her only son.

  She smiled weakly, took the card, and hugged me. “Thank you, so much, Mijo. I’ll be sure to do that. God bless your clean heart.” She kissed my cheek and walked away.

  Porky looked on from a distance with his Ray-Ban sunglasses on. He nodded at me and put his arm around Mariella, who was breaking down beside him. Thunder roared in the sky, and I was hoping I wasn’t about to get caught in the rain. Aaliyah had chosen to sit the funeral out, and I supported that. It was getting harder and harder for her to stand up. The pregnancy was getting the best of her.

  Paper walked back up to me, licking his crusty white lips. They were moistened where he’d lick, but outside of that area looked as if he’d kissed a chalkboard eraser. “Say, can we talk or you gon’ keep on snubbing me?”

  I scoffed and looked him up and down. “Come on man, let’s go and holler in my BMW. I’m parked two cars behind the hearse over there.” I started to walk in that direction. My hittas closed in and I gave them a nod to let ‘em know it was all good. I got to the car and popped the lock for, Paper.

  He opened the door and sat in my passenger’s seat. He looked all around the car in amazement. There was a constant ding sound until I closed the door on my side and started the engine with a press of a button. It purred and came to life, every television in the car flipped on to a blue screen.

  Paper bucked his eyes and shook his head. “Damn, nigga, you living large ain’t you?” He smiled and continued to eye the insides of my car.

  I adjusted the air conditioner. “What’s on your mind, Paper? Time is money.” My seat began to vibrate and lightly massage my back. I angled the vent so that it blew downward. I wanted the car to be a little cooler, but I didn’t want the air blowing directly on me. I moved my seat back and looked him over.

  He frowned. “Damn, nigga, why you handling me like I’m one of these Peons on the street. We’re supposed to be brothers.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, whatever happened to that?” I threw my car in drive and pulled out of that spot. I didn’t know where his whip was, and I didn’t care. I had to get out of that graveyard. My heart was heavy for the homie, Macho.

  “Look I don’t know where we fell off either, but I ain’t got no time to dwell on that shit. It is what it is. So, let’s turn the page.” He pulled out a pack of Newports that were half gone. Popped a cigarette out of it and started to light the tip.

  I rolled down the window a lil’ bit on his side. I hated the smell of them. That scent mixed with the odor coming from his ass was threatening to become too much for me. “So, anyway, you saying you needed to holler at me. What’s on your brain?” I looked over at him and turned the vent so that the air blew directly in my face now. I wasn’t trying to catch no more whiffs of him, or that cancer stick he was smoking. I was sure I was going to get my car detailed later.

  He dumped the ashes out of the window and sighed. “Nigga, I hear you’re out here going hard now. Your name ringing in the streets like the bell on top of a church.” He puffed off his square again and blew the smoke out of the crack of his window. The majority of it blew right back into the car, it pissed me off so bad that I wanted to punch his ass.

  “So, that’s what you wanted to talk about, my fame?” I sucked my teeth. “That shit don’t mean nothing to me. In fact, it’s more of a hindrance than anything.”

  “Bruh, I got fifty niggas that’s up under me, and I’m down to like twenty thousand in cash. I ain’t got no dope or no plug. I need you to put me on, so I can get right, and get my people right. I’m feeling like a real loser, right now." He threw the cigarette out of the window and rolled it up, then looked over at me. "So, what’s up, you gon’ put me on?”

  “On some real shit, Paper, I shouldn’t have too. Nigga, you was given the same opportunities I was. You chose to start shooting that bullshit and following your own path. Now, look at you. You look sick as a bitch.” I curled my upper lip at him, looking into his yellowish, red eyes, that were glossy.

  “Nigga, I don’t wanna hear all that self-righteous bullshit. I’m coming at you looking for your help, not your critique. I’m tired of everybody telling me how bad I look. Or what I’ve done wrong. You muthafuckas don’t know how it feels to lose your mother in the way that I did. That shit killed every part of me. I just never said nothing about it. Shirley offered me a way out, and I took to fucking with that pipe. It was the worst mistake of my life.” He shook his head. “Did you know, Heaven, was pregnant with my shorty when I stanked her?” He blew air through his teeth. “This dope got me so fucked up that I do shit and don’t regret it until the next day.”

  I rolled out of the graveyard, looked in my rearview mirror, and saw my hittas following behind me in the two Range Rover black on black trucks. I adjusted my seat and sat a lil’ bit as I entered onto the busy intersection of Burleigh. “You fucking with that dope real heavy now. Would it be smart for me to put some of it in your hands? I mean knowing that you ain’t gon’ do shit wit’ it, but get high?” I looked over at him and rolled through a yellow light. My Hittas made it, too and remained close behind me.

  Paper pulled his nose and frowned. “So, now you gon’ use that bullshit against me. What you think I don’t know how to handle my bitness and keep my habit out of the equation? You think I’m that fucked up now, or something?” I could tell he was getting heated. He flared his nostrils and moved around in his seat as if he were real antsy. I knew that was a sign that he was ready to do something crazy.

  I started to drive with my right hand on the steering wheel and my left I kept it rested right on the handle of my .40 Glock. Any wrong move and I was gon’ fill, Paper with more holes than a golf course. “What type of work you looking for, Paper?”

  He ran his ton
gue across his teeth. “About forty bricks of that Tar shit you flooding the hood with. I’ma hit with that fentanyl a lil’ bit, just like you do, and get my numbers right. It’s time I step my game all the way up. I should be balling like you are. After all, I was in the game first.” He shook his head.

  The clouds opened and suddenly it was bright and sunny. I rolled through the lights and got onto the highway, cruising. “Paper, what you gon’ hit me with for these forty bricks? I know you don’t think I’ma just drop them into your lap?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. You was hitting the Misfits with product upfront and you just told them to hit you back every Friday. Why I can’t get that type of treatment? You know I’m good for it if they was.” He licked his crusty lips and scratched his right inner forearm.

  “I don’t know about no forty, Bruh. I’m fucking with some niggas that don’t play about they scratch. I front you forty bricks and when it’s time to pay up you wind up hitting me with a script it’s gon’ be done. I can’t be held responsible for what happens to you. I mean that shit. Besides, why are you dead set on that number of birds? Why not some a lil’ lighter?”

  He slammed his fist against my dashboard. “Why you trying to stop me from handling bitness? I don’t want no crumbs. I’m trying to eat like you out here eating. They should be honoring my muthafucking name, not yours. I taught you the game, remember. It was my pops putting us up on licks to help us get right. Your pink ass father wasn’t nowhere in the picture. Now that he is, he put you on, and you ain’t fucking wit’ me. What type of shit is that, nigga?” He mugged me breathing hard.

  I scrunched my face and looked him over in disgust. “Man, calm yo’ ass down. Acting like you heated and shit. It ain’t that I’m not trying to put yo’ ass on, it’s just that you come wit’ so many risks because you fucking with that shit. I’m telling you, that if I hit you wit’ some work and you fuck it off, Paper, I’m gon’ have to knock yo’ brains out on some no mercy shit. This ain’t a game my nigga, and I ain’t on the same level that you on.”