by Sephiri J
Armani’s tongue was doing circles round the head of my dick, and I knew in a couple seconds I was gonna bust. I saw her friend, Micah, get up from behind Armani and crawl toward me. She had this look in her eye like she wanted to join but she must’ve had the wrong idea. She came up to where Armani was kneeling in front of me and reached her hand out to play with my balls. I swatted her hand away with the quickness. She looked up at me in shock.
“Move,” I said and put my hand back on Armani’s head, moving it back and forth so she had the whole length of my dick in her mouth. She always impressed the fuck out of me because I knew my shit was long and thick.
Micah sat on the floor pouting, but I didn’t give a shit about that. I reached my hand out to catch the wall because Armani had my legs shaking.
“Fuck!” I yelled as my kids flew down her throat. My heart was racing since that shit was intense. I closed my eyes, so I could catch my breath.
When I opened them again, Armani was sitting back on her knees looking up at me with a satisfied expression on her face. She looked happy as fuck and I had to chuckle.
“That was some good shit,” I said while picking up my boxers and putting my clothes back on.
“You liked that, baby?” Armani asked as she raked her fingers through her hair.
“You know your mouth is in my top five, girl,” I said.
She rolled her eyes, but it was true. I shrugged and stepped past Micah who was still sitting and pouting on the floor. I pulled on my pants and stepped into my boots.
“I wanted to show you what I could do too. Why you push me away?” she asked me.
I glanced at her and shrugged. “I don’t know you. My shit ain’t for every hoe out there.”
“Hoe?” Micah asked all defensive.
“Yup,” I said and walked back toward the bed to grab my hat. I pulled it down low on my head and fixed my shirt.
Glancing at my phone, I frowned when I saw I had four missed calls from my ex, Gisselle. She stayed getting on my nerves, and I didn’t feel like hearing her voice today.
“I’m not a ho, City, if you got to know me you would see,” Micah said getting up from the ground and folding her hands in front of her chest.
I glanced at her for a second before I put my phone back in my back pocket. She wasn’t an ugly girl. About 5’4, thick thighs, small titties and a short pixie haidcut. But she was acting madd thirsty, and I wasn’t with that.
Pussy wasn’t hard for me to get. I had bitches throwing that shit to me on the daily, but I wasn’t the type to fuck everything that moved. I’d let some of them put their mouth on me, but only one or two got the dick. Armani got it now and then. And my ex Giselle did up to a couple weeks ago when she started acting crazy. Then there was this nurse named Monica I hit up from time to time. I didn’t need anyone else on my team right now. I was good, so Micah could take those feelings and chill.
“You need to find a nigga who gives a fuck,” I said to Micah before turning back to Armani.
Armani was looking at me like she won something. I knew she felt good that I kept her around, and she probably felt special since I told her homegirl my dick wasn’t for the community, which included her hoe ass.
“Can I come to your place next time, babe?” Armani asked, getting up from the floor and putting her hands on my chest.
I looked at her like she had two heads. No one came to my house. None of these bitches knew where I lived on purpose. My house was my sanctuary. That was my space. I was a private ass nigga, and for me to bring a bitch to my house where I laid my head, she had to be a special kind of person. I didn’t think a bitch like that existed in real life, to be honest. Armani definitely wasn’t about to be the one to make it up to where I lived.
“I’ll hit you up when I want to see you,” I said ignoring her request and turning to walk back out the door.
“Okay babe,” I heard her say as I left.
I closed the door behind me. As I walked to my car, I pulled up Instagram. That incident with Rigs last night still had me hot, still but to my surprise, when I scrolled to Shade Room, I saw an article that said, Anonymous source admits to lie about City Ink.”
I quickly read what they said, which basically was that their source took back everything they said and admitted it wasn’t true. The original article was gone too, which was good because my next step would’ve been getting my lawyer to handle that real quick.
“Bitch ass nigga,” I muttered as I hopped into my Range. I dialed Guwop to see what he was getting into today.
“Yo,” he said over the phone after the second ring.
“What’s good?” I asked as I merged into traffic.
“Chillin’, you seen they took that shit down?” he asked.
“Yeah, I seen it. Bitch nigga didn’t want no smoke,” I said.
I knew Rigs probably ran to Pops and said some shit, and I’d be getting a call about it soon, but that shit didn’t bother me. Pops knew I did whatever I wanted and didn’t give a shit what a nigga thought, especially ones like Rigs who hated my ass.
“What you ’bout to do?” Guwop asked me.
“Head to the shop real quick,” I said.
“Aight, cool. I’m in the middle of some shit, but I’ll swing by later. Aye, the fuck happened to Marcus last night?” Guwop asked.
“He hit me up this morning nigga. He got pulled over by them same cops who came by Legend. They was asking him if he knew anything about what went down in the shop. That’s why his ass wasn’t outside when we ran out. He good now, though,” I explained.
“Aight, I got you,” Guwop said.
“Yeah, let me get at you later. Hit me up if you still comin’ by,” I said.
“Yup,” he said before I hung up.
Heading to the shop, I tried to push the shit from last night out of my mind. I had a lot of other shit to think about, including the fact that the biggest tattoo convention of the year was in Miami next week, and I needed my shop to be front and center. Everything else was secondary as far as I was concerned. My mind wandered to the cute chick I met last night, Bo. She was a firecracker and had the body of a goddess. I doubted I would see her again, though, and I wasn’t the type of nigga to roll over to where she stayed like a stalker. Maybe I would run into her again. Who knew?
7
Guwop
My nigga City was going through it, and I felt bad for him, but that was life. He was a strong ass nigga, so I knew he would get through it, but I also knew he was done with people talking shit about him in the background and trying to come for the things he worked hard for. But if I knew this nigga like I thought I did, he was probably somewhere workin’ on his next move and not worryin’ about his bitch ass brother.
I walked up to my shop because I had my own business to worry about. My shop was growing faster than a motherfucker, and I was trying to be cautious, but there was money to be made, and I wasn’t trying to miss out.
Growing up in Carol City I didn’t have shit. My grandmother raised me because my moms was always strung out and my pops was a pimp in the streets. So, living off my grandmama’s disability check was never enough. When I was growing up, turning the air conditioner on was a fucking luxury, and any day we had more than two trays of food in the fridge was a great day.
My grandmama tried her best with me, but I knew I was born a street nigga. I knew that hungry feeling of not havin’ shit, and I wasn’t about to go back to that. When I was sixteen, I dropped out of high school and started hustling even though my grandmama hated that shit. My one regret was that I didn’t ease off it until she passed because she would cry real tears for me. But I didn’t know any other way, and I wasn’t ’bout to be worrying about being homeless and hungry.
When she passed away, I went harder. Cars had always been my thing, so even though I was pushing weed and coke, I always had in the back of my mind how I was gonna get out the drug game and do something more up my alley. A good friend of mine, Lucas, hooked me up with some contact
s, and I started my shop. I started with a couple little niggas who stole cars for me and brought them to my shop. I wiped them, broke them down, and passed them off for parts. Now, my shit had grown ten times, and I was making more money than I ever made in my life.
I was still a cautious nigga, but I couldn’t lie and say the money wasn’t nice as fuck. Plus, I did run a legitimate shop, so I had mechanics and shit who worked for me that I could put on the books. I’m not gonna lie and say that some of the customers who came into my shop with their luxury cars weren’t on my list of cars to hit up on the low. My eyes were always looking for the next come up.
Right now, though, my boy Lucas said he had something he wanted to run by me, so I was at my shop to chop it up. I walked through the doors, and it was busy as fuck in there.
“Aye, what’s good?” I said to my man Vince who was working the front.
He nodded at me, and I made my way to the back where I knew Lucas was.
Lucas was sitting in my office on his phone, but when he saw me, he stood up and grinned. Me and Lucas knew each other going back to high school. He knew City too, and the three of us at one point used to run the streets like we had nothing to fear. Now we were a little older and wiser, but we were still all about getting money. Lucas had a bunch of runners who sold drugs for him, so he had his hands full, but he mentioned something about some new nigga he knew who supposedly had car connects and was gonna be good for me.
“Guwop, my nigga,” he said, giving me dap.
Lucas was half Puerto Rican, half black, and he wore his curly hair back in a ponytail. He was a corny motherfucker, though, so he never had a bunch of bitches around him. Whenever him, City, and I would go out, he would always end up being the lonely motherfucker in the corner going home with no pussy. No matter what I did to help his lame ass out, he never got it together. But that wasn’t even my problem. He seemed like he was okay with it, so who was I to judge?
“What you been on, nigga?” I asked as I sat down across from him.
I pulled a cigar out my pocket and lit it. Them shits was my thing, man. I had one for breakfast and dinner. I puffed on it as I lit it then looked over at Lucas.
“I been getting shit movin’, you know, grindin’,” he said and chuckled as he sat back in his chair.
I didn’t trust too many people, but if there were two people I would say I would put my life on the line for it was City and Lucas. City and Lucas weren’t that close anymore because life happens, but Lucas was still like a brother to me.
“So, what’s this new shit you been trying to tell me about?” I asked.
“I got a connect who got an in at a shop that has a shit load of older cars, nigga,” he started.
I raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in my seat.
“Okay?” I said.
“He was putting me on some game cuz these cars are insured heavy, so if something was to happen to them, you know what I mean, it’s not like anybody really out too much,” he said and leaned forward so I could hear him as he spoke in a low voice.
I frowned and listened to him. “Who this nigga?”
“This guy I been knowing for a minute. He got in the transport business recently which is why he got at me. He legit,” Lucas said nodding his head.
“So, what he sayin’ exactly?” I asked, thinking about the situation.
Most of the cars I had come through my shop were regular cars—Hondas, Toyotas, sometimes muscle cars. Here and there I’d run after the luxury ones, but I knew the real money was in these older cars because the parts were impossible to find. I had people all over who I could sell the parts to and who would look the other way because of the price. I just didn’t have the supply.
“He’s got a truck moving fifteen cars in about a month from Raleigh to Houston. For a percentage, he said he’ll tell us the locations when one of his men is in the driver seat, and all we gotta do is run up on them with some drivers and guns to make it look legit and take the shit,” Lucas explained.
I rubbed my goatee and thought about this idea he put in front of me. It sounded crazy and dangerous as fuck. Everything could go wrong with that shit.
“The route is far from us, but we don’t need to bring it back down here. We got time, we can rent a warehouse near the route and have our mechanics waiting to tear the cars apart, so we can move it quick,” he said, solving one of a hundred problems that were floating in my head.
“It’s a genius plan, nigga. What you think?” Lucas asked excitedly.
“Calm down, bruh. I’m thinking about it. That’s a big order. And a lot of years if something gets fucked up and we get caught. You sure about this, nigga?” I asked for the second time.
Lucas looked at me annoyed. “Guwop, I ever steered you wrong, bruh?” he asked.
I shook my head because he hadn’t in all the years I’d known him. Still, this was my life, and I was putting a lot on the line for this.
“How much you think we could pull from this?” I asked.
“At least a mill easy. He said he got a ’62 Benz in the mix, 70s Chargers, ’91 Porsche Turbo a bunch of shit. It’s a fucking gold mine,” he said.
“What’s in it for him?” I asked with my eyebrow raised.
“He wants 10%,” Lucas said. “He don’t got the resources like we do to get the cars apart and move them out. You know this shit is a good ass idea.”
I sat back in my chair and turned the idea over in my head. “Let me think about it.”
“Aight, but don’t wait too long. These four weeks gonna go by like that, you know. If we gonna do this shit, we gotta be on it so we can set shit up,” Lucas said.
I nodded and puffed on the cigar.
“I know you ready to get this money like me. It sounds like a good ass opportunity,” he said.
“It’s not about just that, bruh. Fuck yeah, it sounds good, but a lot of shit goes into a job like that. We gotta get niggas on board who we can trust and who won’t fuck shit up. I gotta get buyers lined up so we not sittin’ on that shit for weeks. This nigga gotta be clean cuz I’m not tryna get set up. Prison don’t look good on me, and this is some next level shit you talkin’ bout,” I said, explaining where my head was at.
“I feel that. But if we wanna make real money, we gotta level up,” he said.
He wasn’t lying, but this was still something I had to marinate on.
“It’s not like you got shit better to do at home anyway,” he said and chuckled.
I shoved him lightly. I couldn’t help but chuckle myself, though. This bitch, Candace, I used to fuck with for the last year left me about two months back because she swore I was cheating. I might have been, but niggas make mistakes. That’s life. I told her I was sorry, but she was trying to have me do that begging shit, and I was not with that. Partly, I was relieved she left because she was just a relationship of convenience. I never loved the bitch, she was just comfortable. But now she was gone, and I wasn’t dying over being single again.
“You worryin’ ’bout the wrong things,” I said standing up and exhaling the smoke.
“Aight, G, hit me up later,” Lucas said as I walked away from him.
I left my shop thinking about what Lucas said. The idea was pulling at me. I couldn’t lie, even though I knew so many things could go wrong. I would run it by City and see what he thought then make a decision. At the end of the day, I was about making money, but I wanted to be on this side of freedom, so I could enjoy it. It was a hard decision, and I knew I’d have to decide one way or the other sooner rather than later. Whatever I decided, I wasn’t gonna regret it, though. That’s not how I was. I was gonna ride with it till the end no matter the outcome.
8
Bo
“Bo, you completely embarrassed me yesterday. I can’t believe you would pull a stunt like that. What were you thinking? You know people are already talking about the disaster you created at the wedding yesterday. How could you make such a mockery of us? Ridiculous. The Carters are mortified. Do yo
u even know what you’ve done?”
My mother was going on and on over the phone about the wedding, and all I could do was sit there and roll my eyes. She had called me all day today back to back, and I knew she wasn’t going to stop until I picked up. She was the last person I wanted to hear berating me about the situation. It was crazy because not once did she ask me if I was okay after finding out something so hurtful about the person who I loved and was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. All she cared about was how what I did made her look.
I sat there in silence as she went on and on about it. I was back home, and Sade was with me as I waited for the locksmith to fix my broken latch.
“And to think we spent so much money on this wedding, just for you to turn it into a joke. Why couldn’t you have handled something as sensitive as that in private? I’m sure there’s something we could have worked out.”
“Something we could have worked out?” I asked her incredulously. I couldn’t hold back any more. Sade looked over at me in concern. “He was cheating on me! This isn’t a car accident where we can work out how he’s going to fix my car. He’s having a baby with a whole other bitch.”
“Christ, Bo. Language! Who raised you? Why do you always have to be out here talking like one of those girls from the ghetto? I swear I don’t understand you at all,” my mother said, once again ignoring the actual point I was making.
I exhaled harshly and buried my head in my free hand.
“Whatever the issue was, it could have been handled in private. That whole production you went through yesterday to prove a point was tacky and classless. It was an embarrassment. You need to apologize to the Carters right away,” she said.
