New York's Finest (1st of the Trilogy)

by Swinson, Kiki

  I was happy when my workday had ended and I was back in the city. As soon as I reached my car, Reggie called me. “What’s up papi?” I asked him in a cheerful way.

  “When did you get back in town?” he asked.

  “My flight just landed about thirty minutes ago. Why?”

  “I need you to come by my house and get this box for me,” he said.

  “Is Vanessa there?” I wanted to know.

  “Nah, she ain’t here yet. That’s why I want you to hurry up,” he said with urgency.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes,” I told him and then we disconnected our call.

  During my drive to Reggie’s place, I got a call from Marco. It was somewhat of a surprise to me because he told me he would be down in South America until the end of the week.

  “Hello there,” I said.

  “How are you?” he asked in his very thick Hispanic accent.

  “I’m doing great.”

  “Very good,” he replied. “How is business?”

  “Business is great. Everybody including Reggie is very happy.”

  “Very good. So, are you in the city?”

  “Yes, I’m here. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’m leaving South America tomorrow to come back to New York for a few days and I want to see you.”

  “What time can I expect you?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll call you when I get there,” he replied quickly.

  “Okay. Great. I’ll be waiting on your call,” I assured him.

  Before we ended our call, he told me how he’d missed me and that he wanted to bend me over and fuck the hell out of me. It had been a while since I had fucked Marco. Truthfully, I wasn’t looking forward to it. His dick was no bigger than my thumb and after fucking him, I had to fuck somebody else just to get satisfied. Marco was the only reason I went out and bought me a battery-operated boyfriend. I understood why women had them a BOB; because of non-fucking or unendorsed motherfuckers like Marco. To be candid, the only reason I fucked him in the beginning was because Reggie and I needed him to supply us. He was our South America connection and on top of that, he had the pure shit. His shit rocked. I didn’t use drugs, but when we made the connection with Marco and our shit hit the streets, Reggie’s fame immediately shot through the roof. He was the toast of the city for supplying some fire shit. That was why we were surprised he wasn’t on anyone’s radar like DEA or NYPD.

  On that level, Marco was the man with the best shit and top of that he was a fucking millionaire at best and I loved the perks that came with being his flavor of the month. Marco’s money could be used as wrapping paper to wrap around this entire fucking globe. He was a well-known cocaine supplier and executioner. He was someone you didn’t fuck with. I was turned on by his money and status, not his dick. And now that I had my own money and was able to buy myself a $30,000 Hermes Birkin bag or $110,000 Maserati Spyder, I honestly had no use for the old man. I’d let him eat my pussy if he’d like. But that was as far as I was going to let it go.

  At the end of our conversation, he told me to tell Reggie to be available before he left town, because he needed to have a meeting with him. I assured him I’d do just that.

  New York’s Finest Kiki Swinson

  Chapter 7 – The Penthouse Suite

  Reggie wasn’t too happy with me because I let Vanessa beat me to their apartment. She let me inside of their fifteenth floor penthouse suite. She kept herself laced in five hundred dollar blouses and six hundred dollar skirts and slacks made from Gucci, Valentino and Marc Jacobs. Her shoe game was more fierce than her wardrobe. When I looked at her Valentino sunny check dress, I knew she’d hit my brother up for at least five grand and been shopping recently, because this dress just came in this season. It was no secret that she was a label whore and was consistently in competition with me, but whether she knew it or not, I wasn’t fazed by her antics. I was the queen around here so everything she did to make herself feel like she was better than me was done in vain. As usual, I acted like I was happy to see her.

  “What’s up mommy?” I greeted her by extending a hug.

  “I’m good. What’s up with you?” she replied as she hugged me back. She gave me this whack ass pat on my back as she embraced me. I could tell she didn’t want to hug me. But I left well enough alone because she was being her normal self. And as long as she wanted to play her games, I vowed to do the same thing.

  “You know me. I’m always on the hunt to find ways to get rich so I can retire from my daytime gig.”

  “Just follow your brother’s lead and you’ll be just fine,” she assured me and then she closed the front door behind us.

  “Where is he anyway?” I asked her as I started walking down the hallway towards their family room.

  “He’s in the back watching TV,” she told me.

  I continued down the hallway and then I entered into the family room where I found Reggie slipping on his Prada flip flops. “Where are you going?” I asked him.

  He took his wallet off the coffee table and said, “Come on, let’s take a ride to see mom and dad.”

  I was not in the mood to drive out to the Bronx to see our parents. They relocated to White Plains a couple years ago from Harlem. My mom thought the move would do our father some good. When you hear people say, “You can take the person out the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out the person,” believe them.” That was exactly what my mom was going through with our father. He loved the fucking streets.

  “What’s over there?” I whined. I was tired physically as well as mentally, so I wasn’t in any way feeling this trip.

  “I wanna drop some dough off to moms. And see how they’re doing. She said she hasn’t seen you in a couple of weeks, that’s why I got you to come over here and go along with me.”

  I sighed. “I wished you would’ve told me this over the phone.”

  “If I would’ve, you would not have come,” he replied and then he reached back down on the sofa and retrieved his pistol from behind one of the decorative pillows.

  “What are you about to do with that?” I asked him.

  “I’m taking it with me,” he told me and then he stuck it down in the waist of his shorts. Once he covered it with his shirt, he was ready to step out of the house.

  “I thought you were staying in the house tonight?” Vanessa asked immediately after she entered the room. She stood at the entryway and waited for Reggie’s reply. I stood there alongside Reggie and waited to see how he was going to handle this situation.

  “Look Vanessa, I ain’t got time for this shit tonight,” he replied.

  “You ain’t never got time for my shit! But I know what you’re doing,” she spat as she continued to stand in the entryway of the living room. “I’m not stupid, I know you got Naomi to come over and get you like y’all are going to go and handle some business. But you gon’ get her to drop your no-good ass off over one of your bitches houses!”

  I stood there looking shocked. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. If Reggie wanted me to drop him off at one of his hoes house, he hadn’t said anything to me about it. “Please don’t put me in y’all mess today,” I begged.

  “It’s too late, because you’re already in it,” she replied sarcastically.

  “Oh, no, it’s not too late, because I am out of here,” I told her and then I made my way out of the living room area. I headed back down the hallway towards the front door. Reggie wasn’t too far behind me.

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Now get out of my face with that dumb shit,” I heard him say as he stormed passed her.

  Vanessa didn’t let him get too far. She was hot on his trail. “Don’t you walk away from me Reggie. I am so tired of you disrespecting me with all your bitches and staying out all times of the night!” she yelled as she stormed behind him. And when she got within arm’s reach of him, she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tried to prevent him from leaving. I stood by th
e front door and watched as the drama unfolded.

  Reggie turned around abruptly and pushed Vanessa away from him. I watched as she stumbled backwards. “Keep your fucking hands off me and take your ass back out there in the street and go be with that nigga you was laid up with all day,” he snapped.

  I could see the embarrassment on her face. I wanted to say something, but I kept my comment and opinion to myself. This wasn’t the first time I witnessed them fighting. This drama had been going on for years.

  “Did you see him just hit me?” she belted out. But I turned my back to her and opened up the front door. “You ain’t gotta answer me. But don’t be trying to talk to me later when I call the police on his ass and get him arrested for putting his fucking hands on me.”

  “Let’s go,” Reggie instructed me as he pushed me out into the hallway.

  Immediately after he closed the front door behind us, Vanessa had the audacity to open up the front door and come out in the hallway behind us. But Reggie coaxed me to continue towards the elevator. That didn’t stop Vanessa from continuing on with her rampage. “Fuck both of you motherfuckers! Don’t come calling me when y’all need somebody to bail y’all asses out of jail!” she screamed behind us.

  “I’m not doing shit wrong to go to jail!” I yelled back and then Reggie and I hopped on the elevator.

  After the doors closed, I exhaled. “How the fuck you deal with her? She is wreck-less as hell! I mean, who comes out into the hallway of a building you live and insinuates that your man and his sister dabble in illegal activity?”

  “She does.”

  “Well, you need to nip that shit in the bud before she gets you locked up for some far more serious shit then whipping her ass!”

  “Don’t worry. As soon as I get my paper up the way I want, I’m gonna dip out on her dumbass.”

  “Really?”

  “You damn right. And I’m looking forward to that day too.”

  “Wait, so you think she’s fucking around on you?”

  “Nah, I don’t think that.”

  “So, why did you say that back in the house?”

  “Come on now Naomi, you slipping,” Reggie said and smiled. “Niggas blame shit they do on their women all the time. That way, we can take the heat off us.”

  “So wait, am I really dropping you off to one of your bitches cribs?”

  “Nah, we gon’ go and see moms and pops,” Reggie replied and then we hopped off the elevator.

  During the drive to the Bronx, I tried to touch on the subject about him and Damian. But he didn’t bite. I could tell he wasn’t in the mood to discuss anything dealing with what happened last night. He did, however, tell me that he and Damian were going to link up and handle some business later. So I left well enough alone. I figured they must’ve come to some mutual understanding and moved on.

  My parents’ house sat on the corner of Gun Hill and White Plains Road. It wasn’t the newest or the most posh house in the world, but it was better than where we grew up in the Polo Grounds. Even though they changed addresses, my pops kept that same street mentality.

  I wished I could say Carter Foxx was a retired hustler, but I couldn’t. Our dad was a forever man of the streets. He was semi-retired at best. He still hit the streets every now and then. To keep my skills up, he would tell us.

  Reggie and our dad were close. He taught Reggie at a young age all of the rules of the game. If Reggie had an issue, especially dealing with business, he bounced it off Carter Foxx.

  As always, when we showed up, my mom would sit us down and practically shove food down our throats. It was her Hispanic culture to always cook and have family over. That’s how we found time to bond with one another. So we chatted a bit and caught up.

  After the four of us had dinner, Mom excused herself because she knew we needed to talk business. She didn’t know my part in Reggie’s business but she suspected I was doing way more than the lies I told her. She always warned me that I was doing well in a legitimate job and I shouldn’t mess that up.

  Foxx listened intensely as Reggie ran down everything that had occurred. We called our dad by our last name—Foxx. I couldn’t remember referring to him as dad. He taught us what he could, and that meant we knew the streets. I loved the man. He was a loving and caring like a father should be, but cool and down with knowledge, usable knowledge—the kind of teaching that kept you alive from one day to the next.

  He was a slim man, slightly standing over five feet seven, a couple of inches shorter than my mom and Reggie, and an inch taller than me. His hair was naturally wavy with streaks of gray in his black locks, lending credence to his wisdom.

  “I ever tell you about the time I recommended a runner for Stone business?” Foxx asked us after Reggie had went in-depth about the events that took place at the Polo Grounds yesterday. We both shook our heads no. Stone was Big Joey Stone, an enforcer and some say assassin, who was Foxx’s best friend. “Well, I gave this guy, Marlo, who I was locked up with in the joint, my recommendation to work for Stone. A couple of weeks later, the motherfucker ran off with Stone’s money and dope.”

  As kids we grew up on Foxx’s stories, or misadventures, as our mom used to describe them. But somehow they had a therapeutic value to them, probably more so for Reggie. At the end of each story, was a lesson and today that was what my brother was looking for—the lesson in all of this madness.

  “Well, we are talking about Stone here and the man knew everybody and everything. It took him a day to track Marlo down in the Bronx, and the house he was hiding in, they were waiting on Stone. It was a good old fashioned ambush. Well, Stone being Stone, he sniffed it out and handled his business. Six people died that day including Marlo.

  “Of course, everyone thought I would be the seventh, but I met Stone at his house and apologized for recommending Marlo. I told him I didn’t know the deal, and after he threw some bullshit questions at me, all was copacetic. I was Stone’s best friend. The man knew I wouldn’t betray him for nothing in the wrong. That’s the value of friendship.”

  We were silent for a good minute. I think we both had to take in what Foxx had just relayed to us. I knew Reggie was searching for the message in the music. “So you saying Damian would not sell me out and this Walt nigga probably done this shit on his own or was a plant by somebody like Sheffield,” Reggie stated.

  “Exactly what I’m saying about Damian and about this cat Walt, but Sheffield is not your man. Sheffield is happy making dough slinging dope and pimping sluts throughout New York and New Jersey to want your action.”

  Sheffield was probably the oldest gangster in the New York area. Hell, he was the man when Foxx and Big Joey Stone were younger. The legend as told to us by Foxx was that Sheffield was really the front man for Stone’s operation, but no one knew it. When Stone really wanted out of the business, he turned the business completely over to Sheffield. From that day forth, Sheffield provided Stone with ten percent of the profits on the first of every month like clockwork.

  “Then who?” Reggie asked.

  “Son, you are at the top of the food chain now. You have graduated to the top spot on the radar. The DEA and Narcotics Division may not know about you yet, but they will soon find out. Your success has painted this target on your back. So you better be very careful because someone is going to try to take you down a couple of notches or try to get you eliminated altogether.”

  Once again, silence filled the room. I could see the wheels grinding and turning in Reggie’s head. Additionally, Foxx was his usual calm self. I was the deer in the headlights.

  Carter Foxx broke the silence. “Let me ask around and see if I can find out if somebody knows who set y’all up and killed your boy. I can almost guarantee that if it was somebody from uptown, then some of my people will know who did it.”

  My dad never ceased to amaze me. He and Stone knew everyone, and who they didn’t know, someone in their circle knew that person. I smiled inside at Reggie’s strategy to come talk to the master. After al
l, most of what he knew he learned from Foxx.

  “I think you did right kicking his ass and putting him on notice,” Foxx continued. “If he is the spy and played the part well, he will stick around and see if he can get some info on you for his boss. Assuming he is working for someone else. But be careful and chill ’til I get back with you. Now what’s this Walt last name?”

  “Granger,” Reggie replied. “Walt Granger. He’s supposed to be related to that nigga Gerald Granger that caught that murder rap a couple years ago for setting them niggas on fire from the Pink Houses.”

  “Oh, okay,” my dad said as if he’d remember exactly whom Reggie was talking about.

  We chilled a little, talking about other things. Foxx filled us in on the necessity of being vigilant and respecting the game. He didn’t want us getting too high strung on the game, and reiterated to Reggie on watching his back. As he stated, “Top dog always have the biggest bull’s eye on his back.”

  That was the Foxx we loved. The man who lived by the streets, and unfortunately, one day would probably die by the streets. But he was a man who would do anything for his kids. If he said he would get the lowdown on Walt, he would; even if it meant turning over every damn rock in the five boroughs of New York.

  New York’s Finest Kiki Swinson

  Chapter 8 – Unnecessary Drama

  While Reggie and I were visiting our parents, Vanessa was blowing his fucking phone up. She called every bit of thirteen times back to back. And Reggie did not answer one call. He eventually turned off his phone so we could continue our talk with our dad in peace.

  On the way out, Reggie and I kissed our mom, and Foxx walked us both out to my truck. I handed Reggie my car keys and climbed into the passenger seat. My dad closed the door behind me and then he leaned up against the passenger side door. “How is everything at home?” he looked directly at Reggie and asked.