"If I could pay for it, I would," Shamari said.
"Amigo, give me some collateral, and I will give you what you want." Dumpy said.
"I ain't got no collateral, if I had collateral I wouldn't be asking you for shit" Shamari said.
Fred sounded like he'd been born in the U.S., barely any accent at all. He said, "Shamari, you already owe us 200 thousand dollars. There is no way in hell I can give you 10 kilos without getting anything up front."
"I've been dealing with you for eight years, you know I'm good for it."
"You need to adjust your lifestyle man. You're creating these bills" Dumpy said.
Shamari said, "Don't tell me what the fuck to do with my money." He stood and paced and then said, "I can give you my Cadillac Escalade, it's paid for."
Fred said.. "You want a hundred thousand dollars' worth of product for a sixty thousand dollar car that we can't get sixty for?"
Shamari said, "Look, Fred, I've never asked you for anything. I've never owed you nothing. You gotta look out for me and I promise you, I'll pay you man."
"How much money do you have?"
"I've got about 20 grand."
"And the car?" Fred asked.
"Yeah."
Fred took a deep breath and then said, "Keep the car, give me the money and I'll give you the work."
Shamari said, "You won't regret it."
"I hope not, for your sake bruh." Fred stood and he and Shamari made eye contact and he said, "If you don't pay me, they're coming for you."
Shamari said, "I know."
"One question? How did this happen?" Fred said.
"How did what happen?" Shamari asked
"How the fuck did you go from spending a million dollars a month with me to having only twenty grand?"
"I don't know man."
"Dudes always like to shine. Always trying to impress motherfuckers and not have any money. Never shine until you got at least a million dollars."
"Dude, I've had money before."
"But you don't now." Fred said.
Shamari didn't respond. He wanted to though. He'd known Fred for over five years. Delivered him millions of dollars and now he was being talked to like a child.
"I'm gonna deliver the work tomorrow, you just better have the money." Fred said.
"I'm good for it. Don't worry."
Chapter 5
It was 4:30 in the morning when Trey got a call from the Harris County jail. He pressed six to accept.
"Trey, it's Monte, can you get in touch with my mama and tell her they arrested me?"
Trey couldn't believe what he was hearing. Monte was a driver. The one he'd hired to bring the drugs back to North Carolina. Tell mama he'd been locked up was the code that he'd been busted with the work. There was no need to say anything else over the phone. Trey would have to hire him an attorney and get him out on bond. How did this happen Trey wondered. His method had been air-tight. Who could have snitched? He had to call Q his Houston connect, to let him know what had happened. Tell him to trash his phones.
"Where are you?"
"Harris County jail. Houston."
"What if she asks about a bond?"
"Tell her I don't have one yet. Just need an attorney."
Trey said, "I'll call her now." He hung up the phone; there was no need to talk to him any further. Monte had picked up forty kilos of coke. Trey didn't know what was more disappointing, his friend getting locked up or the fact the he'd lost four hundred thousand dollars.
He called his attorney, Dr. Anderson Rozelle. His lawyer was both a doctor and an attorney. Dr. Rozelle picked up on the third ring. "Trey, what's wrong?"
"A childhood buddy of mine got busted in Houston with a shitload of drugs."
"Texas?"
"Yes."
"I don't practice law in Texas but I got a couple of friends down there. Does he have a bond?"
"No. We need to get him one."
"What's his record like?"
"Doesn't have one as far as I know."
"I'm gonna look into it."
"Can you find out what happened?"
"Give me till three o'clock. I will call you back and let you know what I found out. Meanwhile don't talk to this guy at all. If he calls you back, don't answer the phone."
Trey laughed and said, "I'm not worried about him. He's like my brother."
"Trey, sons put mothers in jail. Don't ever forget that."
"Yeah you're right."
"Trey, before I forget, what is your friend's name?"
Trey chuckled and said, "I guess that would help you out, right? His name is Monte, Monte Rogers, age 32."
Trey hung up the phone. Dr. Rozelle was right. He lay in the bed. Starr still sound asleep. He stared at the ceiling and wondered how in the hell did his organization get infiltrated. Who could have snitched?
Chapter 6
It was 10:30 in the morning in a suburb in south-east Atlanta when Rodriguez came out of his one bedroom apartment holding a bacon and egg sandwich wrapped in a paper towel. He was on his third bite when Mike smacked the shit out of him. Rodriguez coughed up egg.
Mike grabbed him around his neck.
Rodriguez dropped his sandwich. His size ten Nikes now covered in eggs.
"Motherfucker, you know what this is about!" Chris said.
Stunned Rodriguez stared Chris in the face. How did he recover from the brutal beating so fast? When did he get out of the hospital? "Please, Chris, don't hurt me."
Chris put a gun to Rodriguez's ribs and said, "Open the door motherfucker. Let's go in your apartment and sit down for a while."
Rodriguez trembled as he attempted to place the key in the hole. Once inside they all sat in the living room area. This room was bare except for a sectional and a plasma TV.
Chris pointed the gun at Rodriguez temple and said, "So are you gonna tell me what the fuck happened? Who made you rob me?"
"What do you mean tell you what happened?"
Mike slapped the shit out of Rodriguez again and said, "Next time it's gonna be with my motherfuckin'gun if you don't tell me what happened to my brother."
"Niggas bust in and robbed us. You know what happened." Rodriguez siad.
"I don't remember shit, but I do know you had something to do with it because you were the last motherfucker I talked to." Chris said.
Mike said, "Strip motherfucker I want you to get butt motherfucking naked!"
"Are you serious?" Rodriguez said.
Chris shot Rodriguez in the foot making him howl.
Mike said, "Strip, bitch!"
Rodriquez peeled out of his clothes, trying to balance himself on one foot. Now standing up in his tighty-whiteys covered in skid marks.
"Nigga, you don't know how to clean your ass." Chris said.
"Come out of those dirty ass drawers too." Mike said.
Rodriguez trying to nurse his bleeding foot, kicked his tighty-whiteys to the other side of the room.
Mike presented an extension cord. "So you gonna tell us what happened?"
"We got robbed."
Mike lashed Rodriguez across his ass with the extension cord. "Tell me what the fuck happened, now, nigga!"
He lashed him again and Chris shot his other foot. Rodriguez was now lying on the floor. Both feet bleeding. "What the hell happened, nigga?"
Rodriguez yelled "Please don't shoot me again! I'm going to tell you."
"Tell me then, or I'm blasting your ass."
"Kyrie told me to set you up."
"What the fuck do you mean, 'Kyrie told you to set me up'? Who is Kyrie?"
"My cousin!"
"So you been talking to your cousin about me?"
"No he asked me did I know you."
"Where does your cousin live?" Chris said.
"I can't tell you that."
Chris fired a shot into Rodriguez's left ass cheek and he howled again.
Chris went to the kitchen, got a paper towel and used it to scoop
the shitty underwear that Rodriguez had kicked in the corner. Chris then stuffed them in Rodriguez's mouth. He was gagging for air before Chris finally pulled the underwear out of Rodriguez's mouth.
"You gonna tell me about your cousin or else."
"Well it was Black's idea!"
"Black?"
"Black is Kyrie's friend"
"Kyrie got a mohawk?"
"Yeah."
Mike asked, "You know these clowns?"
"I do?"
"From where?"
"Well Black is Lani's ex."
"The nigga you fought at the basketball game?"
"Yup."
"Where does Black live?" Chris asked.
"I don't really know Black." Rodriguez said.
Chris grabbed the underwear and put the skid mark right up to his nose.
"I don't know!"
"Well you're going to have to show us where your cousin live or I'm firing at your ass again and stuffing your mouth with your shitty ass drawers and duct taping it shut."
"He has an apartment off Old National."
"Where off Old National?"
"I don't know the name of it, but I can show you."
"Okay motherfucker show us," Mike said.
Rodriguez attempted to stand but he fell. "Man I can't walk," he said with blood oozing out of both feet and his ass cheek.
Chris threw him his clothes. "Put these on."
Rodriguez managed to muster up enough strength to put his clothes on. Chris and Mike carried him to the car without being noticed my neighbors. Rodriguez pointed out his cousin's apartment. Chris and Mike dropped him off in front of the same hospital where he'd left Chris days earlier. His mouth taped shut and those skidded underwear taped on his forehead.
Chapter 7
Dr. Rozelle called Trey, who answered on the second ring. "What did you find out?"
"Your friend is still being held without a bond."
"That's not good."
"Not at all, but the good news is Monte hasn't made a statement."
"How do you know?"
"I have my ways of knowing."
"We gotta get him out of there."
"Yeah. I have a friend down there. A very successful trial lawyer named Thomas Matlock."
"Matlock like the lawyer on TV?"
"Yeah weird I know, but that's his name."
"Well hell, that's a good sign."
"Maybe, but I'm going to give him a call. If anybody can get your friend out, it's Matlock."
"Please give me a call."
"Trey, let me warn you he is super expensive."
"Money is not an object. I need him out before -"
Dr. Rozelle cut him off. "Trey, careful what you say on these phones."
"Yeah you're right."
"Will call you back shortly."
Trey plopped down on the sofa. Trying to figure out what he was going to do next. He'd lost four hundred grand and he guessed he was going to have to spend more money to get Monte out, then an attorney. But money wasn't what he was thinking about, he had plenty of that. So much that he couldn't count it all. He'd attempted to count his stash once and he got tired after he reached two and a half million dollars and there was still a lot more to count. But he needed to get that situation with Monte under control so they could get back to work. There was a lot of money to be made in Atlanta. And he intended to get his share.
Starr entered the room, wearing a tight fitted dress that looked as if it was shellacked to her ass and a pair of heels exposing her hot pink toenail polish. He loved when she wore pink, or any woman for that matter. It was so damn girly and Trey was very much a man. Trey's eyes glued to Starr's ass. When she saw him staring, she smiled.
But his face was expressionless though he was clearly turned on. Why didn't he at least grab her ass?
"Trey, what's wrong babe?'
"Nothing."
"Come on, you know me."
"Hey listen, you don't need to be in my business. I've always told you, the less you know the better off we are."
She eased over and stood in front on him before unzipping his pants and taking him deep in her mouth.
Trey was trying to focus on Starr's spectacular oral abilities. She licked his shaft and sucked his balls but when she licked the head of his penis like she was licking an ice cream cone, he pushed her head down. She moved his hands. She hated when he did that. He stared at the ceiling, while Starr was still performing. The bell rang.
Starr stopped and they both looked at each other.
He said, "You expecting company?"
"No."
He stood and zipped his pants. He glanced through the peephole.
"It's your friend's boyfriend." He said.
"Who?"
"You know the girl with the fake ass."
"First of all, she is not my friend."
"Wonder what the hell he wants."
"Open the door and find out." Starr said.
Trey opened the door "What's up, bruh? What bring you here?" They bumped fists and Trey invited him in.
"Hey, Starr, how you doing?" Shamari said.
"I'm good? How you doing?"
"I need to talk to you for a second in private if you don't mind?" Shamari said.
Trey said. "For sho." He turned to Starr. "Give us a few moments alone."
Starr waved bye to Shamari and left the room. When she was gone, Shamari said, "Look, bruh, I need a real big favor if you can. If you can't I'll understand."
"What is it?"
"I need a front?"
Trey and Shamari had talked about doing some business in the past but it never came to fruition. Shamari had wanted Trey to come down on his prices, but Trey wasn't having it.
"What kind of a front?"
"Man, whatever you can give me. I was supposed to get something from my Mexican connect but he never came through for me. Dude, I'm down to my last ten stacks. Whatever you can give me."
"Man I just got took last night. I don't know if I can help you now."
, "I understand."
"Last time I spoke to you, you wanted to buy twelve keys. What happened?"
"Feds snatched up some of my folks, and I had a couple of losses."
Trey said, "Feds."
Shamari grinned, then said, "Im'ma keep it one hundred with you. One of my soldiers turned informant."
"So he snitching on you? I don't need no parts of the Feds," Trey said thinking about Monte. Knowing he had to hurry and get Monte out of that Houston jail before he cooperated with the Feds.
"Nobody is snitching on me."
"You sure?"
"I'm positive. He ain't snitching on nobody right now. If you get my drift?"
Trey smiled and said, "It has to be that way sometimes. Sometimes its best that they are gone, rather than live to tell about it."
"Exactly."
"Listen, bruh, I can't help you right now, but we are going to work for sure. As soon as I handle this situation, I'm going to help you out. I know it must've taken a lot for you to ask me for help."
"Had to swallow my pride, that's for damn sure."
"Hold up, I got something for you." He sprinted upstairs and came back down with a purple crown royal bag and tossed it to Shamari.
"What's this?"
"Twelve thousand dollars. This should help you until we get going."
Shamari grinned and pounded Trey up and headed toward the door. Before he opened the door, he stopped. "Thanks again."
Trey nodded then Shamari opened the door and left. Trey eased over to the door and peeked through the blinds as he watched Shamari pull out of the driveway in the Range Rover, thinking Shamari was just like most dudes in Atlanta with their net worth tied up in their cars. Dude only had ten thousand dollars but drove a hundred thousand dollar car. Trey had always been good with money. He would never end up like Shamari.
Chapter 8
Shamari smacked Jada hard on her ass when he entered the ho
use. She turned and faced him, frowning when he leaned into her and kissed her, hands gripping her ass. She felt so good in his arms. He hadn't touched her in so long, she had forgotten how much she liked him to fuck her. When he stopped kissing her, she said, "Somebody is real happy."
Shamari's dick jumped and he looked down. "You talking about him?"
"He's always happy, I'm talking about you."
"Well I'm happy because money is on the way."
"The Mexicans came through for you?"
"No. Those motherfuckers lied."
"Damn."
"Yeah but it's okay, I don't really trip about money. I haven't always had money, so it's really not a big deal for me. I'm the same person with it or without it."
He hugged her and held her for a long time and she felt safe in his arms. She felt a certain closeness that she hadn't felt with him in a long time. When he released her he asked, "Have you seen your mom lately?"
"No. Why?"
"Because I don't hear you talking about her. You never mention her anymore."
"I haven't seen her in a while and don't really want to see her. You know it's the same thing every time I see her. Her hand's always out. You know, always lying about how she ain't smoking crack, but I know she's smoking."
"Look, it don't matter if your mom smokes crack or not. She is still your mom. I wish I still had my mother, I damn sure wouldn't deny her."
"I guess you're right. I'll go check her out tomorrow."
Shamari dug into his pocket and handed Jada two one hundred dollar bills. "Buy her some groceries or something."
"I guess I really have to go see her now."
"You weren't going to go?"
"Not really."
"Shame on you, Jada Simone."
They both laughed. Jada's mom and sisters always called her Jada Simone. Shamari thought the fact that they called her by her full name was funny and country.
Chapter 9
Jada's stepfather Charles was a tall wiry man with a thick grey goatee. He wore a dirt colored shirt and jeans that were too big for him. He stood there smiling, revealing several missing teeth. He invited her inside the tiny apartment on the West End of Atlanta. An old sofa and an armchair filled the tiny room along with an old school floor model television. Jada swatted a roach that had dove onto her shoulder when she entered the house. "Who the hell is that Charles?" Louise yelled from the back room.
"Jada Simone."
"What the hell does she want?" Louise asked.