“Okay, and you’re telling me all this because?”

  “Because, homeboy”—He picked up my fitted cap and placed it backwards on my head—“if you can’t give up anything better than what we have right now, then all three of you niggers is going back to the cage.”

  “You said I’d be on top? After all this, I can do my thang?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Pimping ain’t easy, boy. Sometimes you gotta pay. So we straight?”

  “Yep. Long as Ton and Sade is.”

  “They’re cool. Now me and Bobby is about to ride on out to the hospital to see about your boy. Oh shit. Is he ever going down. There is a god,” he said, closing the door behind him as he walked out.

  My chances of escape was nothing more than just a mere thought summoned up by the nigga in me. But this was really it. I was officially part of the “go-tell-it-on-the-mountain” committee, a fucking snitch if I’d ever seen one. Snitch or not, though, this shit was about money and who could control the most of it. And now, with Coke out of the way, I could finally shine like the born star I truly was.

  Cocaine’s condition improved by the end of the week. They posed questions at him from every direction the instant he opened his eyes. The first two people he got to see after waking up from what he thought was all a bad dream was them bitches, Jeff and I-love-sucking-my-partner’s-dick Bobby, ready to cuff him before reading him his rights.

  Cocaine was finally convicted upon every charge but credit card fraud. I was ashamed of myself for a second and tried to avoid direct eye contact with him inside the courtroom. When our eyes met, I could see a tears shimmering in the corners of his. I’d betrayed him to save my own ass. At the same time this was for my rise to the top.

  Sade wasn’t able to contribute much, but what she did tell was enough to get her off. And, Ton, well, he just put the nail in the coffin, once he told who gave the order to murder those two cops. The jury didn’t even care why. Cocaine had ordered the assassination of two white cops, and that was worth the death penalty on any planet you lived.

  When he was handed down his life sentence, he looked over at me and shook his head in dismay. “You stabbed me in the back. I hope you burn in hell. Bitch, you turn on the only muthafucka who ever gave a shit about you?” He shouted, “Fuck you, nigga!”

  “Order in my courtroom!” The judge banged his gavel on the sounding block. “Order in the court!”

  Cocaine spat at the judge. “Fuck you, honky!”

  The judge told the guards, “Get him out of here.” And they dragged him out kicking and screaming, and cursing me.

  After a while I found it humorous and laughed at him. “Told you this was going to be mines,” I said, gloating as the guards used brute force to remove him. I turned toward the back to see Jeff and Bobby smiling and giving me a thumbs-up.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  MACK

  Everything was looking top-notch for a nigga. My wolves was back in effect, and I now had double the amount of girls I had before, including those little African bitches. Jeff and Bob worked their corruptive magic and pulled some bullshit out their hat to make that work.

  I got Joi back. Jeff and Bob had been holding her captive until that whole thing had blown over. Sade disappeared, and that was the last anybody saw of her. Ton stayed with me, and I gave him the position he always wanted, my right-hand man. He didn’t complain because he finally was getting the paper he wanted. His recognition meter shot up like Jeff’s blood pressure. People said his name wherever he walked.

  I was back up in the office of Phenomenon taking calls when Joi walked in. “What’s good, babe?” I said, my feet up on the desk. I picked up my burning Cuban cigar from my crystal ashtray.

  She put her Prada purse on the desk. “You got to do that soon as I walk in?”

  “Yo, let me call you back,” I said over the phone. “What’s up your ass?”

  “Nothing good, man. I went to the doctor today.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m three months pregnant,” she said casually.

  My feet dropped off the desk, and I sprung up. “You are? For real? That’s what’s up.” I smiled and walked around the desk to hug her, but she didn’t hug me back.

  “What’s the matter?” I said, sitting on the edge of the desk. “You not happy?”

  “I wanted to see what you wanted to do, but no matter what you say, I already got my mind made up.”

  “What you mean, you already got your mind made up?”

  “Why are you so happy? I thought you’d be telling me to get rid of it.”

  “Why would I say that? My first child? Never that.”

  “Exactly. Never that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you could never be a father. Look at you. Look at all of this.” She pointed toward the dance floor on the lower level. “What kind of father you think you’d be?”

  “Don’t you start trying to preach to me, Joi. You was loving this example the night I freed your ass from Stan’s house.”

  “That’s the wrong example. Yeah, you came up in there, but I freed myself because your bitch-ass was too scared to shoot him. Yeah, I had to shoot him. You running around here fronting like you was bussing your gun. I let you rock my title because I loved you, but this shit now is just too crazy for me. I don’t like this life no more, and I don’t want it for my child. That’s why after it’s born I’ll be leaving.”

  “Leaving? You’re not going anywhere with my child.”

  “What you gonna do? Hold me prisoner like how your boy had Cakes? You’re not. Walk away from this right now, and we can bounce. We got the money, baby. You don’t got to do this no more.”

  “What about when the money run out, then what, Joi? Where you going to work at? What skills you got . . . because that’s the only way you going to find a job that’ll pay you halfway decent?”

  “I’m not going to be selling my ass for the rest of my life.”

  “You ain’t had to sell your ass in about two years, so cut out the bullshit.”

  “Everything with you is always bullshit when it’s not going your way.”

  “You heard what I said, Joi. You not going anywhere. My baby will be just fine. I got the streets on my side, the cops on my side, and plenty of surrogate mothers to help out. The shit’s a fucking luxury. You better take advantage.”

  It was four in the morning when I hooked up with Storm. I’d say we both had a little too much too drink. Phenomenon was closed, but the bar was open. And you know how shit go? One thing led to another, and it can go down like that. The leather mini-skirt she was wearing lifted when I bent her over.

  She grabbed the brass sliding pole and gripped it tightly. She begged for me to stroke it hard while she grabbed my dick and pulled it. “Fuck me in my ass, playa,” she said, wiggling it at me. She released a loud squeal of pleasure as the head of my saliva-lubricated dick entered her, panting and pulling the back of my left thigh with her right hand.

  I slowly eased myself in until my nuts hung directly under the bottom of her apple. She then moved me back some and pulled herself forward just a little before easing back down on it. I began pumping in and out, as her ass began to secrete a flood of lust from her dark cavern, her D-sized titties bouncing up and down and around to her back.

  Suddenly, when the music came on, along with the dance floor lights, I jerked back and turned my head.

  She grabbed my leg. “Why you stopping, boo?” she said, looking back over her shoulder.

  “The music . . . how it come on?”

  “Probably a short in the electric. Now you better finish beating this, playa.”

  “That shit ain’t never happen before.”

  “Boo, all the doors is locked. You locked them yourself. You tripping, and your dick is going down.”

  My limp dick slid out and popped as it exited. “So do something to get it back up.”

  She got on her knees and put it right in her mouth, rolling her tongue around my head until “project erection” came to be. She increased the pace of her head nod until I was straight as a reformed criminal. She grabbed the base of it with both hands and looked it straight in the eye. Twisting her head to the side, she wrapped her lips right under the ring of my head and locked them there with a luscious grip of suction.

  That went on for the duration of the night, amongst several other positions of fucking.

  After that night, she became my number one bitch. I wasn’t moving her in with me though. She was like the new and improved version of Cakes, except I kept her in business and didn’t try to wifey her up. Y’all get that? I didn’t have to beat the bitch-ass because I was jealous. That’s what I never understood with Coke—He go and fall in love with a prostitute then turn around and get mad when she’s turning tricks. The shit is bogus.

  I stayed in business because I didn’t have to beat my bitches into submission. Don’t get me wrong now. I didn’t give no ho respect, but I did show her love because she was part of my extended family. And that love alone right there made any bitch with nothing feel like something. Fuck respect! They needed love. Even if it was under a false impression. I loved them for the money they made me. They loved me for the position I put them in to make that money. That’s why you got nine-to-five niggaz running around talking about they love they job. They love the position they been placed in to make that money. Then what they do with it? They come here and spend it on these hoes. It’s what I call the circle of synchronicity, the act of following a repetitious method of extra-marital pleasure. Everybody gained. The men got what they want, which was what they were lacking at home from the old ball and chain, and the hoes got an opportunity to become official go-getters. And I just kept getting richer. Is that the American fucking way or what, people?

  What you really think be happening to these bitches that turn up missing? Ain’t nobody kidnapped nobody. These bitches got out here into college or just fed up with the rules of living at home, the stress of knowing for the rest of their lives they have to provide for themselves. They look at the shit like dudes look at the entertainment business. But just because you break into a luxurious house doesn’t mean you’ll make it out alive. You won’t necessarily be rich. Comfortable. Loved. Or even respected. In this life all you’ll ever be remembered for is what you brought to the table. Now, is you gonna be some ol’ slave nigga who just bring home the bacon, or the breadwinner who hands out the sandwiches with the bacon in between?

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  ANTON

  Me and Gordy had never been the best of friends, but we shared the same animosity toward Mack. I’m lying. His shit was a little more extreme. It was good to be home. You’d think that niggaz woulda tried pounding me out after Cocaine went down, but it wasn’t like that. We established some new rules. We was only here to ensure that these bitches made the money. No more, no fucking less. Even though things was going fine and I wasn’t tripping on Mack no more, the air just wasn’t feeling right. I mean, the air around him was thin. His officialness was beginning to lack, and it showed.

  “Ton,” my moms called as I walked up from the basement.

  “What’s good, ma?”

  “The phone, boy.”

  “Who is it?” I said, reaching for it from her hand.

  “It sound like that detective.”

  “All right.” I took the call into the living room. “Yo.”

  “Yo, homeboy, it’s your main nigger, Ton. Why don’t you bounce on out that crib and take a ride with me and my peoples?” Detective Jeffery laughed over the phone.

  “Man, what y’all want? I’m mad busy right now.”

  “It’ll only take a second. You mean to tell me that you can’t give us a couple seconds of your time . . . after all we did for you?”

  “I’m coming out. Two minutes is all y’all got.”

  I stepped into the back seat of the midnight blue Intrepid, its windows tinted so black, no one could see inside.

  “Ay, Anton, how ya doing?” Bobby said.

  “I’m chilling, yo, maintaining, know what I’m saying?”

  “I love it when you talk like that,” Jeff said. “Know what I’m saying?”

  “A’ight. When you finish sounding stupid, you can tell me what you need to tell me so I can get the fuck outta here.”

  “Drive, Bobby.” Jeff sipped his coffee. “Shit,” he yelled out.

  Bobby had sped down the block right into a pothole and Jeff’s coffee jumped out his hands and onto his lap.

  “Goddamn it, Bob,” he said, fanning his crotch, “you trying to kill me. Pull the damn car over, asshole.”

  We didn’t get very far, but I wasn’t trying to be seen with these dudes. I slid down under the tinted windows. “Come on, man, y’all can’t be having me out here like this.”

  “Shut the fuck up. I’m just shaking this shit off of my pants.”

  We quietly rode to Rockaway Beach and parked near the boardwalk. The city lights sparkled from across the ocean’s surrounding shorelines. Small boats cruised past each other with the motor on low, the full moon casting her sexy and persuasive body of illumination across the bed of liquid.

  We walked to the boardwalk and sat on some wooden benches a couple hundred feet away from the incoming tide. I could smell and taste the misty spray of diluted salt in the air. It made me choke.

  “There, there,” Jeff said, patting my back.

  “I’m a’ight, man,” I said, spitting up. “Okay, what the fuck y’all want? I’m a free man, and the shit is documented and on file.”

  “Our backs are against the wall right now, Anton,” Bobby began. “Our backs are against the wall, and we’re going to need your help again.”

  “Aw no. Y’all not getting me caught up in that business again. Naw.”

  “Let me ask you something, Anton,” Bobby said, “Are you happy with your freedom? Because there was a lot of red tape to cut through to make that work. Did you really think that just your snitching kept you out?”

  “It’s what you said would be to my advantage. I took advantage of the opportunity and seized it. So why am I here? We don’t got no more ties. Your business is with Mack.”

  “How you feeling about that asshole nowadays?” Jeff asked.

  “He a’ight. I ain’t got no static against him or nothing.”

  “That’s good. How’s he paying you?”

  “Look, man, I’m gone. You all up in my business like I owe you a favor or something.”

  “All right, Anton,” Jeff said. “I’m going to be up front with you. Something was found inside Gordy’s car under the floor mat, something that has to do with nothing, but at the same time, everything.”

  “Huh?”

  “We found Mack’s initiation on DVD.”

  “So?”

  “After all this time no one is interested anymore about this guy’s credibility?”

  “I could give a shit less. He ever come at me wrong, I’m knocking him out. What his initiation got to do with me?”

  “You’re second in charge, right? What he does reflects on you, and vice versa.”

  “Yeah, go on. I’m listening.”

  “Basically, what Jeff is trying to say is Mack has to go. Not just Mack, but the entire operation. I.A.’s been doing a lot of snooping around lately, and we can’t afford to let this shit blow up in our faces.”

  “So again, why the fuck talk to me? You have nothing on me. I been clean since all this shit been over. What incited this new operation anyway?”

  “Your boy is stupid. Get in the car. I want you to see something.”

  We sat inside the car, and Bobby slid a DVD inside the portable player sitting up on the dashboard.

  “I’m not fien’ing to watch no movies with y’all.”

  “Shhh,” Bobby said, leaning back in his seat.

  I was caught up in a zone of betrayal and disgust by the time it was over. Bobby hit the stop button and turned toward me in the back seat. “So, whadda ya think? Think ol’ Mack got the talent to be best supporting actor?”

  “He sure looked happy,” Jeff commented. “Now what kind of man you want over you that does something like that? This is your reputation at stake. We can get you set up in another city.”

  “If I snitch though, right?”

  “Not this time. What we need for you to do is expose him to his people. The rest will take care of itself.”

  It wasn’t even a question of working with these dudes again. It was about principle. And apparently this dude had none. I was tight because all this time everybody wondering why he got this privileged status. Coke’s own brother, God bless the dead, his own brother didn’t even had the pull he did. Now I knew why, and soon, so would everyone else. I knew just where to do it at too—The Big Ballerz Bash in Chi-Town next month.

  “So, tell me why I’m doing this again. I mean, what’s it really all about? And what’s in it for me?”

  “It’s all about economy,” Bobby said.

  “Economy?”

  “Economy,” they reiterated simultaneously.

  “I’m not understanding.”

  “Mack’s taking the business away from the drug dealers and putting them on with him. That means the street money is not going back into the government. You know what I’m talking about. If we kill him, the public will know it was a conspiracy because they love him so much, like he’s some kind of fucking hero or something.”

  “So? Why use me?”

  “Because you’re the closest one to him. He trusts you,” Bobby said. “He has to go. We didn’t anticipate it turning out like this. I was kind of starting to like him. But the bottom line is that he’s out of here. Too much of a chance that he could gather all the criminals up and start a war in New York. We can’t have that.”

  “I don’t know, man. I don’t need this shit on my head again. I ain’t tryin’-a get the nigga killed.”

  “You wanted to kill him before,” Jeff said. “What, freedom done made you go soft?”