Last there was Kenyon—the brains is what I’d call him. He was much smarter than the average nigga and that alone made him the deadliest of them all. A single mother who always showed him the importance of education raised him. Yes, in school he was the nigga with straight As, but if you picked a fight with him, instead of fighting you he’d come up with a plan for you to hurt yourself more than he ever could. He got drafted into the game because of that. See, most of the niggas in the game will shoot first and ask questions later. Fuckin’ with Kenyon, you’d put the gun to your temple and blow your own fuckin’ brains out. He could say the slickest shit to get in your head and have you second-guessing everything you’d ever learned. He threw me for a loop when I first met him because he always kicked that intellectual shit. I wondered how a nigga so smart could end up selling drugs. But the craziest part of it all is how he had just as much if not more money than Kemp and had never touched the drugs that got him there.
I parked and sat in the car for a few seconds before getting out. I wanted to build the suspense. I knew that they were wondering what I had planned.
“Yo’, what’s the deal, man? Who are we going to war with?” JB asked as soon as I stepped out of the car.
“Let’s go inside,” I responded, before walking toward the door.
We all walked inside the house. I was still silent. I knew as soon as I told them who I thought was doing everything they were going to go crazy. They’d never understand why, so I had to think hard on how I’d reveal my thoughts.
“So who burned down the store?” Tommy asked, while taking a seat at the kitchen table.
I stood there and stared at them. They all stared back, waiting to hear my response. They were like children in a classroom waiting to be taught. “Kemp,” I answered in a low tone, hoping that they wouldn’t hear me.
“Kemp? What the hell do you mean? He’s dead!” Kenyon yelled immediately. I knew what reaction I was going to get from him. He was the type that didn’t believe shit stunk unless you put it right under his nose.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too but we got this strange note that points to him and now this shit with Diamond and the store. In my heart, I know he’s dead but the note makes me question that,” I replied, hoping that I wouldn’t have to go any further.
“What note? What did it say?” Tommy stood up and stared at me, probably wondering why I hadn’t revealed the note sooner.
“There was a note sent to the office saying that he hoped Diamond enjoyed the past few months.” I conveniently left out the part about checking his pulse. I wasn’t ready to reveal the fact that Diamond had shot him. I didn’t know how they would react if they’d found out and I didn’t want to take that chance. They had all grown to respect her as their boss, but they would most likely feel betrayed if they knew the true facts of that night. How could they trust the person that robbed them of not only their leader but their friend? If it weren’t for me, they would have probably all went separate ways, but I convinced them to stay on board. To find out what she’d done and then to know that I knew and did nothing about it, would only make things worse. I couldn’t risk it. Especially when I didn’t know who was out to get us. Every time I convinced myself it couldn’t be him something inside made me think it was. The letter, to me, meant that someone was there and knew what went down. I didn’t believe it myself at first and I probably wouldn’t know if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
“What the hell does that mean? Why would he say some shit like? It doesn’t make sense. We all know Kemp’s dead, man—I was there. Why do you think it’s him when you were right there with me? ” Tommy asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“That can’t be it and there has to be something that you’re not telling us. Nothing you just said makes sense.” Kenyon was seeing right through me but I had to keep it cool. I wasn’t about to tell them the truth no matter how hard they pushed.
“I don’t know what it is, Kenyon, all I know is someone is trying to take me and her under. I can’t let that shit go down like that.”
They all sat quiet and confused. If it were Kemp, how was I supposed to convince them to go to war with the man that helped them all get to where they were today? In reality, Kemp had helped us all. I waited for one of them to speak but they didn’t. I didn’t know what else to say. What I did know was that I wasn’t going down without a fight and I damn sure wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Diamond.
“So what are we going to do?” JB broke the five-minute silence that followed my last reply. Both Kenyon and Tommy turned to look at him with the stare of death. They had definitely always been loyal to Kemp and with just the thought of him being alive they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Would they remain loyal to him or me, the nigga that was currently keeping their pockets fat if it turned out to be Kemp?
“What the fuck do you mean we? Nigga, I’m not doing shit until I know who the fuck I’m fighting. If it’s Kemp, why the hell should I be fighting? His beef ain’t wit’ me,” Tommy blurted out loud as he stood up from the chair that he was sitting in. JB stood up as well and was now standing face-to-face with Kenyon.
“So you just gonna bail out on Black after all the shit he’s done? That’s some sucka shit.”
“Man, fuck you, I’m far from a sucka,” he yelled back at JB, pointing in his face. I could see where things were heading so I stepped in the middle to try and calm them both down.
“Look, I know where you’re coming from and I don’t expect you to go to war with Kemp, but I gotta do what I gotta do. I’m not gonna just lay down and get killed,” I said after they both sat back down. “Do what you have to, man, all of you, and I’ll do the same.” I turned my back and headed toward the door. As I was climbing into the car JB ran out to stop me.
“Yo’ Black!” he yelled before reaching the rear of the car.
“What’s up?”
“I’m wit’ you all the way, I just want you to know that I got your back.”
“I appreciate that, man, and I’ll get up with you later. I have to go check on D.” I reached out and gave him dap before getting into the car. He stood there facing me. I noticed Kenyon and Tommy standing at the door, watching. Now, not only did I have to worry about Kemp or some unknown killer, I had to worry about them too. Their loyalty was definitely to him and that wouldn’t change. Even though they were working for me, to them, if Kemp were here I’d still be a worker just like them. Thinking back, I’d always been loyal to Kemp even if it got me caught up. One situation in particular showed just how loyal I was. It was 1995 and I had just gotten my first car. Shit, I was so happy you couldn’t smack the smile off my face. It was a dark blue Acura Integra. I thought I was the shit! I was driving through all of the neighborhoods where the chicks were slower than the speed limit just to be seen. I had my Jay-Z, Reasonable Doubt, CD blasting as I bobbed my head with one hand on the steering wheel. Of course I’d purchased it courtesy of drug money. I hadn’t been in the game very long but I vowed to purchase myself a car as soon as I got enough money to afford one. Kemp and Kenyon were standing on the corner in front of Papi’s, the Puerto Rican store that we would get all of our candy and whatever else we needed. I pulled up slowly and rolled down the window.
“What’s up, niggas?” I said loudly to make sure that I gained their attention. Kemp had his back turned but eased off of the car he was sitting on when he heard my voice. He was now facing me with a big smile on his face.
“I see you couldn’t wait to spend that money, nigga. I like it. You trying to be a mini-version of me or something?” He burst into laughter. Kenyon joined in.
“Come on now, you know damn well I ain’t tryna be you. You got too many hos with contracts on you.” I grinned and pointed at him as he stood there laughing but underneath you could tell the comment rubbed him the wrong way. He definitely didn’t find that funny. He’d screwed so many women over, one of them was bound to shoot his ass one of these days, I thought. I put on the hazard lights
and opened the door to get out of the car. I couldn’t believe it myself. Shit, I looked cleaner than the board of health riding around in that car. Kemp walked over and gave me dap as Kenyon followed up.
“This shit clean, nigga, you lucky I like you ’cause I’d jack your ass for this one,” Kemp laughed.
“Yo’ Kenyon, I’ma take a ride with him. I gotta holler at him about something. Meet me at the crib around six.”
“All right,” he replied before Kemp motioned for me to get back in the car. I didn’t know what the hell he had to talk to me about but the look on his face told me that whatever it was he was going to make me listen—whether I wanted to or not.
Kemp got in the car and looked around without speaking. I did the same while I waited to see what it was he had to say.
“So what’s the deal?” I asked, finally breaking the silence. He turned to look at me with a stare that said if looks could kill I’d be dead.
“You need to take this car back”
“Take it back? Why?” I was instantly pissed. I definitely respected Kemp and was appreciative for all that he’d done but he wasn’t my father.
“It’ll get too much attention.”
“You’re driving around in a BMW so why is that any different?”
“Because you gotta crawl before you walk. Shit, last week your ass was on the bus—now you got an Acura. If you want to have longevity in this game you have to use your head. I’m successful because I’m smart and you can be too if you play your cards right.”
“So where are we going?” I asked changing the subject.
“Yo’, did you hear what I just said?” His tone changed from one of concern to one of anger.
“Yeah, man, I heard you. I’ll take it back and get something else.” I was pissed but without this game I wouldn’t be able to afford it anyway. I already knew that there wasn’t any negotiating with him. Once his mind was made up there wasn’t anything that could change it.
“Pull over!” he yelled. I wasn’t even at a complete stop before he jumped out of the car, pulled out his gun, and ran over to a group of guys on the corner. A few of them scattered immediately. Two men remained and stood frozen. I jumped out the car and pulled out my gun just in case something popped off.
“Where’s my money, nigga?” Kemp yelled with the gun against the man’s chin. The man’s name was Jojo. Jojo was a local Jamaican hustler who purchased weight from Kemp. Leading up to that day, Jojo hadn’t been paying up, claiming that there had been a recent drop in sales. It was a bullshit story because one of his workers had recently told Kemp all about what he did with his money. The informant told Kemp how Jojo would take the product that he got on consignment, cut it in half—lowering the purity—and then doubled the price. He was making damn near triple what he’d have to pay Kemp for the original product. After Kemp heard about it, he stopped letting him get any more cocaine until he paid the back money he owed. Three months had passed since the last payment and this particular day was the first time he’d seen him since.
“I don’t have it yet, man. Shit is still slow around here,” Jojo replied while the other man stood still as a statue.
“Do you think I’m a fool? I’ll shoot your ass dead right where you stand. Don’t fuck with me, where’s the money?” He started patting him down while still holding the gun just under his chin. He retrieved a wad of money from one of his pockets. “What do we have here? Looks like money to me, muthafucker,” he yelled before hitting Jojo on the side of the head with the gun. Blood instantly poured from his temple. Some of the excess splashed onto Kemp’s fresh white T-shirt.
“I’m sorry, man, I need that money to feed my family. I promise I’ll pay up. Just give me another week.”
“Feeding your family sounds like a personal problem. Nigga, you owe me. I’m going to take this as a down payment now but I want the rest of my money by Friday.” He moved closer to Jojo and forced part of the gun up his nose. Jojo was damn near crying as his friend still stood behind him, not saying a word. “And if I don’t have my money, next time your head won’t be the only thing bleeding.”
Kemp backed away toward the car. I knew that was my cue. I jumped into the car and drove off as soon as Kemp sat down. He sat unfolding and counting the money that he had just taken from Jojo.
“That muthafucker messed up my damn shirt,” he said as he looked down, noticing the spattered blood pattern on the front of his shirt.
“You want me to drop you off at home?”
“Yeah, I told Kenyon to meet me at the spot at six so I still got a little time. I can probably sneak in a quickie or something while I’m at it.” He laughed. I joined in the laughter. “But back to you, man, I need you to take this car back and get a Honda or something. This car is going to get you too much attention way too fast. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you might fuck around and end up like that nigga Jojo back there.”
I nodded, agreeing. I respected him and he’d been in the game much longer than me so he was definitely wiser. I followed his order and the following day, I went back to the dealership and took the Acura back. I drove off the lot in a used Honda Accord. It was nowhere near as flashy and wouldn’t get me much attention. At the time I didn’t really understand why, but I never understood a lot of shit Kemp said or did. It was sort of like a teenager and their parents. They never understand why they have to obey them but later when it turns out to have been the best choice, they’re thankful. That’s how I felt but in that situation and many more that would come about in the future, mind over matter was how they worked. It was also a motto that got me where I was at that point. Being a boss took brains.
Chapter 3
Diamond
Fatherless
“Diamond! Hurry up and get down here for breakfast,” my mother yelled through the house. It was almost 7:00 A.M. and the school bus would be there by seven-thirty. I hated waking up so early and I think my mother hated waking me up just as much. It was always a fight to get me out of the door on time. My dad was sitting at the table when I got there and as usual, him and my mom didn’t have much to say to each other. Most days they sat across from each other without speaking a word. I walked to my father’s side of the table and gave him a kiss on the cheek. For the first time since I was around five years old he didn’t kiss me on my cheek as well.
“Is everything okay, Daddy?” I asked, still standing on the side of his chair. He set his newspaper down and looked me in the eye.
“Everything is fine, sweetie; Daddy’s just got a lot on his mind, that’s all.” After his response he picked his paper back up off the table and resumed reading it. I knew that something wasn’t right but I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s morning by probing him for more information. I slowly walked away and slid into my seat opposite his. There was a small bowl of oatmeal and a glass of milk sitting in front of me. The air in the room felt weird. I couldn’t put a finger on what was different but I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. My mom was standing over the sink washing dishes as we continued to eat in silence. The date was October 13th and I remembered it because of a fire just a few blocks away. One of my best friends lived in that house and hadn’t made it out alive. The date seemed significant to me at the time because of the loss, but by the end of that day I would not only lose my best friend but my father as well.
I had just scraped the last bit of oatmeal from the bowl and finished the glass of milk when I heard the school bus pulling up outside. I jumped up out of the chair and grabbed my book bag off of the floor. Just as I was about to head to the door my dad grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into a hug. The hug was much different than any other hugs because he wouldn’t let go. I mean, he held onto me like it was the last hug that I would ever get. After he let go, I kissed him and walked out of the door. I glanced back before stepping onto the bus and noticed him standing at the door with a blank look on his face. That blank look was one that would haunt me for years since it was the last time that I’d see his face. I r
eturned home that day and found out that he’d left us and wasn’t coming back. I also learned that I was adopted. At first, I didn’t know how to handle it. In school I was distant and my grades showed it. And if things couldn’t get any worse, we lost our house because my mother couldn’t pay the bills. We were forced to move in with my grandmom, in a raggedy row home in North Philly.
I hated living there. I was used to having my own room and my own things. There, I not only had to fight for my things, I damn near had to fight for food. My cousins were bigger and much stronger than me so when it was time to eat I’d quickly be pushed aside and forced to eat the scraps that were left. Then my Aunt Cicely was the meanest bitch I’d ever known. Not a day went by where she wouldn’t throw the fact that I wasn’t really part of the family in my face. As if knowing it wasn’t bad enough, I had to hear it every day. I would go to bed each night wondering why my real parents gave me away. From the day I found out, my mother tried her best to convince me of how special I was. I couldn’t see it, since my biological father and the father that I’d always known not only left me but my real mother had as well.
Next there were the boys. I just couldn’t get enough of them. I lost my virginity at the age of twelve and had sex with at least five boys by the time I met Johnny. Unlike the rest of them, Johnny couldn’t care less about sex. I, on the other hand, was addicted. I loved the feeling of being wanted. The attention that they gave me somehow filled the void that my father had left me with. When one would leave, I’d quickly find another one to replace him. This cycle was one of the most reckless I’d taken part in my whole life.
The first time Johnny and I had sex, it was almost like I was a teacher and he was the student. Johnny, Mica, and me were watching TV in their basement. It was cold outside and not much heat was circulating. We were covered up with fleece blankets all piled up next to each other on the sofa. Mica had fallen asleep halfway into the movie and both Johnny and me were wide awake. Hidden underneath the blanket, my hand was rubbing his knee. Soon it was up to his thigh and next I was caressing his package, which was tightly nestled in his underwear. For once, he didn’t stop me and since he hadn’t, I took full advantage of the situation. He leaned over and began kissing me while palming my overdeveloped breasts at the same time. By now, I was unzipping his pants and sliding my hand into the opening. I could tell he was excited as his dick grew three more inches than normal. I prayed that he wouldn’t stop me as he’d done the few times we’d made it this far. Mica was still sleeping, snoring loudly with drool slowly sliding down the side of her face. We were kissing and tonguing each other down so heavily that you could hear the smacking even over the TV. I stopped him just long enough to ease down on the floor. I motioned with my finger for him to join me. He obliged and within seconds we picked up where we had left off. Instead of getting completely naked I removed just my shorts. Johnny had his pants and underwear pulled down to his knees. I lay on my back as he crawled on top of me and struggled to find my warm opening. With one hand I grabbed hold of his dick and guided it inside of me. He let out a sigh immediately. I knew that he’d never had sex before so I didn’t expect him to go very long. Surprisingly, he got into a rhythm and was still going fifteen minutes later. I guess some men are just born with it because for it to have been his first time he lasted longer than most of the boys I had been with. About twenty minutes later he was shaking and moaning on top of me. I covered his mouth with my hand to muffle the sounds that were escaping. After we were done, I hurried into the bathroom to wipe myself off and got back in position at the far end of the sofa. Johnny looked over at me and quietly said, “I love you” before focusing his attention back on the movie. I never wanted to tell Mica about our first time. I figured she’d be mad that we did it while she slept a few feet away.
Black Diamond [Book 2] Page 3
