"Every day above ground is a good day," Reese answered withoutlooking at her.
"You ain't lyin', Bro! Niggaz be getting murked everyday in Philly. You never know who gonna be here today and gone tomorrow," D.J. said from the back seat.
Sandy sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. Her feet were killing her from performing all night at the club. She glanced over at Reese and grinned. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man: a tall, dark and handsome ‘bad boy’. And the sex was amazing! Sandy worshipped the ground Reese walked on, and there was nothing she wouldn't do to please him.
After Reese dropped D.J. off at home, he and Sandy headed straight to their small cozy nest at the Lincoln Green apartment complex.
On the drive home, they told each other about how their day had gone. "Did any niggaz get outta hand tonight?" Reese wanted to know.
"No, Baby, everything was cool tonight," she lied, not wanting to tellReese about the two men who had gotten kicked out of the club for the drunken, aggressive behavior toward her. It was something she was now used to; just like all the phone numbers and sex-for-pay offers she got from her many admirers. But, her loyalty to Reese was undeniable, that's why she had always turned the offers down; no matter who the person was or how much they were willing to spend on her. Reese had her wrapped around his fingers, and she enjoyed being there.
When Reese and Sandy walked into their beautifully decorated apartment, he closed the door behind them and they headed straight for thebedroom. In total silence, they both undressed. Once they were totally naked, Sandy followed Reese into the walk-inshower. As the warm water rained down on their naked bodies, they started passionately kissing. Moments later, Sandy was moaning out in pure sexual satisfaction as Reese held onto her wide hips, delivering long, hard strokes from behind. It was Sandy's favorite sexual position and Reese never hesitated to give it to her the way she liked it.
Chapter Forty-Six
The next day...
All morning long, Face and Reese had been driving around to different locations dropping off drugs and collecting Truck's money. Truck needed all the money that was owed to him so he could pay for the 20 kilos of cocaine from his new drug connect, Bam-Bam.
They had set the time to meet at 8:30, at a small restaurant on 29th and Girard Avenue. As Reese drove his car down 52nd and Market Street, Face sat back in his seat enjoying DMX's latest album. Both Face and Reese were big fans of hardcore rap music. Their favorite artists were Biggie Smalls, Jay-Z, Nas, The Ghetto Boys, N.W.A., LOX, Snoop Dog, Tupac, and a local group from Philly known as I.C.H., the Inner City Hustlers.
Reese pulled his Lexus up to the corner of 48th and Sampson Street, and parked. He and Face both checked their weapons before they got out of the car. Their loaded .9mms were safely tucked underneath their white t-shirts. They walked up to a house where three men were standing aroundoutside on the porch talking.
"Knuckles is inside waiting for ya'll," one of the men said.
Reese followed Face into the house. When they walked into the living room, a short, stocky man was sitting on the sofa in front of the coffee table.
"Yo, what's up? What took ya'll so long to come?" Knuckles asked, as he placed a rubber band around a large stack of twenties.
"We had other business to take care of. You got that?" Face said, having no time for small talk.
"Yeah, it's right here," Knuckles responded, picking up a blue plastic GAP shopping bag and tossing it to Face. "It's fifty grand for the two birds Truck fronted me," Knuckles said, continuing to count and wrap his money in rubber bands.
Knuckles didn't bother to look up at Reese. The two of them had strong dislikes for each other and everyone knew why. Before Sandy became Reese's girl, she and Knuckles had been together for two years. But after they had broken up, Sandy had met and fallen head over heels inlove with Reese.
Knuckles had tried everything in his power to get his ex-girlfriend back, but Sandy didn't want any part of him. Then,
Jimmy DaSaint & Freeway Ricky Ross
one night when Sandy got off work at the club, Knuckles was waiting for her outside. When Reese pulled up in his Lexus, he saw them standing outside the club arguing and shoving each other. Reese quickly grabbed his loaded .357 Magnum and got out of the car. When he approached Sandy and Knuckles, there was no talking; he went straight into action. With the .357 in his hand, he swung and cracked Knuckles on the side of his head. When Knuckles fell to the ground, Reese went on an all out attack and pistol-whipped Knuckles into unconsciousness; breaking bones in his nose andjaw.
A crowd of people stood around watching in total disbelief, and after the brutalbeat down of Knuckles was finally over, they all stood around and watched as Reese and Sandy calmly walked over to his car and drove off. Ever since that night at the club, neither Sandy nor Reese ever had anotherproblem with Knuckles.
After Face sat down and counted all the money, he and Reese left the house and got back into the car. When Reese pulled off and started driving down the street, they both burst out laughing.
"That bitch-ass nigga ain't even look me in my eyes!" Reese laughed."I'll bet it's killing him knowing I'm fucking the shit out of his ex-girl!"
"Yeah, but we always gotta keep a close eye on Knuckles. A womancan make a man do foolish things," Face replied seriously.
"Fuck dat coward! Don’t no woman want no coward in her life! And Knuckles is a bitch -ass coward!" Reese vented. Face looked over at Reese and calmly said, "Always remember Reese, a scared coward will kill a man quick - not just because of a woman, but because of fear."
Reese glanced over at Face and saw his serious expression. Instead of responding with one of his smart remarks, Reese turned up the volume on the CD player and let the sounds of DMX's signature growl fill the air.
San Quentin, California's Maximum-Security State Prison...
Inside his two-man cell, Quincy sat on the edge of his bunk reading another letter he had received from Face. Every month, Face would write him a letter and send him a couple hundred dollars. When Face moved back to Philly, he and Quincy stayed in close contact with each other and their brotherly
Black Scarface
relationship grew even stronger.
Quincy was currently in the fourth year of a seven-year sentence for manslaughter. He was now 22 years old with a violent track record that stretched a mile long, and everyone who knew him knew he wasn't nothin' nice! He was a cold-blooded killer who didn't play any games.
With a massive muscular body that made men think twice before trying him, he walked secure in his environment. Inmates and C.O.s both feared Quincy. Standing 6 feet, 3 inches, with jailhouse tattoos and bulging muscles all over his body, everyone gave him respect.
After he finished reading the letter he reached under his bunk and pulled out a brown box. He removed the lid and studied the long row of old letters, mostly all of them where from Face and Pamela. He carefully placed the letter from Face inside the box with the others and replaced the lid. He slid the box back under his bunk, grabbed his workout gloves off the small desk, walked from his cell, and headed for his daily appointment at the weight pile.
When Quincy reached the weight pile, he met up with a few members of his gang: the Hoover Crips. Sniper, Quincy's right hand man,was there as always. Sniper was serving a 15-year sentence for drug possession. He had already done eleven years of his sentence and was looking forward to going home. As Sniper and the rest of the men stood around holding their shanks, watching out for C.O.'s, and rival gang members, Quincy lay back on the empty flat bench. A crowd of onlookers watched as Quincy griped his hands around the steel bar, each end holding four forty-five pound plates; a total of 405 pounds.
Quincy gently lifted the bar from the rack, then, just as gently, lowered it to his massive chest. He grunted with exertion and began to smoothly grind out repetitions while everyone stood around in complete awe at his seemingly super-human strength.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Ardm
ore, Pennsylvania...
A small suburb on the outskirts of Philadelphia is a place where many professionals call home: Doctors, Lawyers, Judges, College Professors, and Accountants had all moved to this quiet little town to escape the violent streets of Philadelphia. But, what none of the people inside the community knew was that the man responsible for a lot of the violence anddrugs in Philly had been a resident of Ardmore for the last three years. He was living a peaceful life inside his half-million dollar home with his wife and two children.
The lovely five-bedroom plantation-style home was situated in a secluded area, far away from all their neighbors. In Hood's dangerous line of business he understood the importance of privacy. Living in Ardmore had given Hood and his family all the privacy they needed.
Britney sat on the front porch watching her beautiful sixyear-olddaughter, Arianna, playing out on the front lawn. Both of them smiled and waved as they went to greet the black Mercedes Benz that drove up in front of the house and parked.
Hood and his right hand man, Killa-D, both got out of the car, havingjust returned from their wonderful three day trip to Jamaica.
Arianna ran happily to her father and jumped into his open, welcoming, loving arms. "Daddy, Daddy! I missed you while you were gone!" she said while hugging and kissing Hood all over his face.
"I missed you too, Sweetie," Hood laughed, swinging her around in his arms.
Britney walked up to Hood and gave him a kiss on the lips. "Ron called about an hour ago. He said he would call back," she told him, as they walked into the house.
When Hood entered his elegant, well furnished home, a big smile instantly appeared on his face. Walking straight toward him with a basketball wrapped under his arm, was his eight-year-old son, Lil' Robbie,the spitting image of his father. "Hey, Dad," Lil' Robbie said as he approached his father, grinning.
"Hey, Robbie," Hood said, giving him a warm fatherly hug.
Hood and Lil' Robbie were as close as a father and son could be. And Hood had spoiled him by giving him everything he had ever wanted, Lil' Robbie was Hood's pride and joy.
"Hood, I'm ‘a go back to the city and check on a few things," Killa-Dsaid. "I'll call you later," he added, walking toward the door. "Alright, just don't get caught up in the strip club. I’m ‘a need you inthe morning," Hood winked.
"I'll try my best not to," Killa-D said with a smile, before he turned and walked out the front door.
After Killa-D left the house, everyone walked out to the large swimming pool in the back yard. Hood removed all of his clothes except his white shorts then dove into the clear blue water. Moments later everyone else joined him, laughing, splashing water, and enjoying the beaming hot sun.
Reese maneuvered his Lexus through the downtown traffic as he headed back toward West Philadelphia. He and Face had all of Truck's money packed inside a small leather duffle bag. Now they were headed to the barbershop on 45th and Lancaster to give Truck his money.
"Let's go check out Doc," Face said, smiling over at Reese.
Reese glanced back across the car and shook his head, then smiled and said, "Why do you like that lunatic so much, Face?"
"Cause he's different, and sometimes being a little different ain't a bad thing," Face replied, smiling, thinking about Doc and his strangeness.
"He's more than a little different," Reese said seriously. "He's weird,strange, and crazy, all wrapped up into one," Reese laughed, stopping his car at a red light.
"Ah, you know you like Doc too," Face laughed, playfully pushingReese's shoulder.
Reese didn't respond. When the light changed to green, he just pulled
off.
Ten minutes later, the Lexus pulled up and parked in front of a smallrow house on 42ndand Otter Street. Reese and Face got out of the car andwalked up to the house.
Before the first knock, they were already being watched on several small monitors inside the house. The cameras were so cleverly hidden that sometimes, even Doc had trouble spotting them to realign them. Doc was an extra cautious man, especially when it came to operating his underground medical practice.
"Hey, Fellas. Long time no see," Doc said, smiling, as he opened the front door and allowed Face and Reese inside.
Doc was a short older white man wore really thick bifocal glasses. He was bald with the exception of a white fringe around his head an inch or so above his ears. He wore Doctor's whites and had a stethoscope draped casually around his neck. His hands were long and feminine; a surgeons hands. His breast pocket contained a plastic pocket protector that was stuffed with a rainbow of ink pens, drafting pens, and even a six-inch ruler. His clothing was starched stiff and creased to military perfection. His black shoes were scuffed beyond repair and broken down at the heels; and the laces flew loose with every step he took. Doc's skin was pale and ghost like, as if he suffered from anemia. His eyes, behind his glasses, were a piercing silver-blue that twinkled with something that the ordinary person couldn't see. His lips seemed to be painted with a bright pink lipstick, but were really naturally colored, his pale skin made them stand out. Perhaps Doc was slightly eccentric and perhaps a little high-strung, but all in all he seemed mostly normal.
"Come in fellas, follow me," he said over his shoulder as he closed the door and took off through the house.
Face and Reese followed Doc through the house and down a staircase into the basement. They stood around staring at Doc's makeshift operating room; their eyes wandering from one instrument to the next, wondering what they were and how Doc managed to get them. Laid out on a sterile cloth-covered tray was an assortment of operating instruments: scalpels, forceps, needles, sutures, a bone saw, and a variety of other instruments that secretly made Face and Reese glad they hadn't come to have surgery under the Doc’s hands.
Along one wall sat two computers, the screen savers were a bizarre display of interfolding and overlapping rainbows that were hypnotic and demanded attention. It was nothing Face and Reese could do but stare at the hypnotizing screens.
Above the computers was a row of medical books and two glass cases filled with an unbelievable supply of prescription medications. Indeed they would send him to prison for a very long time should the DEA ever get wind of his stash.
Randolph 'Doc' Petterson was once one of the top medical students at Harvard. He had been first in his class and far ahead of most of his classmates. It was rumored his IQ was immeasurable and everyone hadassumed he would graduate at the top of his class, then go on to make a name for himself in the medical field as a surgeon. However, things didn't turn out as expected for Doc…or for Harvard.
One night during his senior year, two weeks from graduation, two Harvard security guards had been making their rounds and had came uponDoc in the school morgue. What they had seen and bore witness to was nearly impossible to believe; and it was kept very hush-hush for the sake of the school's reputation.
The following morning Doc was expelled. Because of the potential negative attention Doc's actions could bring to the College, and he was blackballed from attending any other Universities in the country. His name was finished in the medical world and no one wanted him. When charges were brought against him for his dreadful acts, a judge ordered him to the State Mental Hospital in upstate Pennsylvania for evaluation.
Eighteen months later, Doc was released from the mental hospital. He began applying for positions at a few local medical clinics around Philadelphia, but once people learned who he was, and what he haddone, they didn't call him back.
Doc became enraged at their failure to forgive and forget. Instead of giving up the hope of one day becoming a real heart specialist and medical doctor, he had started selling his services. With the money he earned, he began buying used medical equipment and medications off the black market. Then he had opened his practice in the basement of his small row house,in the heart of the ghetto.
Without a physician's license, Doc’s only options were patching up, treating, and operating on poor patients who couldn't afford the hig
h cost of hospitals. And here, Doc was accepted and protected.
Doc walked over and sat down at his desk. Beside a large stack of medical books was a small black-and-white monitor showing the front door; beside it was another showing the back door. This way Doc could see who was approaching his home from every angle.
"So, fellas, what can I help ya'll with this time?" he asked, his smilesomewhat haunting as he pushed his glasses back up over the humped bridge of his nose. "Gunshot, stab wounds, broken bones… venereal disease?" he added, with a smile and a quick flick of his tongueon his bottom lip.
"No, none of that stuff Doc. I just need a few more of those pills yougave me," Face said. "I ran out," he added.
Doc stood from his seat and opened the cabinet door over his desk. He reached inside and removed a small brown pill container. After closing the cabinet he handed the container to Face. "Here’s another twenty pills. They’re a higher dosage and should help you fall asleep faster and sleep better than the other ones."
Face put the pills in his pocket and threw a one hundred dollar bill on the
desk.
"That's not necessary, Face," Doc said, staring at the bill.
"Some folks can't pay. Others won't pay. I am one of the ones who can and will. I appreciate your service, Doc," Face said, seriously. "Plus,without the pills I could never get to sleep. I don't know why, but lately I'm finding it harder and harder to fall asleep."
Doc sat back down in his chair and said, "You're thinking too much, Face. You won't allow your body to rest like it's supposed to."
"But Doc, I been having a lot of things on my mind. Sometimes I lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling for hours," Face said.
"What do you think about?" Doc asked, his eyes glittering, and his tongue flicking nervously on his lower lip.
"Power, Doc! Power and success," Face answered honestly.
"Just don't let insomnia be the death of you. Your body needs its rest, otherwise your reactions become sluggish and you start slipping. Once you start slipping, your enemies will take notice; and when they take notice, you will die," Doc said in a counseling voice. "And remember Face, power and success never came to anyone in a day. They both require time and luck," he added.
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