“It’s my house, and I don’t have to explain any of my damn actions.”
“Look, Auntie, if it’s about them checks, you can keep all of them. All I want is my brother and—”
Auntie laughed, walking toward the house. “Sonya, you must didn’t hear me when I said Devin is mine. And if a check comes along with him, so be it,” she hissed, climbing the steps going onto the porch.
“Fat bitch, I’ma get my li’l brother sooner or later, you’ll see. Trust and believe, I don’t give a fuck what you think.” I jumped in my car and roared off. I didn’t give a shit about any of the measly belongings I had at Auntie’s. I’d deal with them and her later. In the meantime, I got a room. Within hours I was kicked back in the motel room lying in bed watching television.
I can’t lie, today was the best day of my life, and I didn’t want it to end. I had a feeling that if we kept doing jobs for Mr. Brooks that there would be plenty more good days to follow. I spread my money out across the bed and counted it. I had somehow run through $10,000, just like that. I knew I had to make more moves to come back up. And Mr. Brooks was the solution to doing so. Maybe he could even help me find an apartment. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, we were kinda in business together.
Chapter Nine
Mr. Brooks
The inside of Sal’s 24-hour Check Cashing was packed to the hilt with Friday’s check cashers. It was always like that on any given Thursday and Friday, which is why my partner Sal asked me ten years ago if I would be interested in franchising his existing store. I agreed. I was always looking to clean up some old money I made during the ’70s heroin rush. Sal’s was just one of the many ventures I went into after I left the streets alone. For ten years, we’ve done good strong business, but also for those ten years, I was plotting the day we’d cash out on our $3 million insurance policy. We were in such good standing that the insurance company that was covering all our stores allowed us to put the maximum amount on our insurance.
“I’m telling you, Sal, these two females are perfect for the job. They’re eager, hungry, and most important, they listen.” Sal and I were in his office overlooking the lobby area.
Sal turned from the window and faced me. “I have never questioned your judgment, Brooks. But you left one thing out, which I feel is more important.”
“What’s that, Sal?”
“Loyalty. What if they get caught in the process? Are they going to be solid or snitch?”
“I understand you, I do. And, yes, I have thought about that. Remember, even if they were to get caught and tell, they wouldn’t be able to implicate you because they don’t know you. Trust me, Sal. I’ve thought out every angle.”
Sal walked over to his desk and reclined in his plush leather chair. He put his feet up, and his eyes went to the ceiling. It wasn’t that I needed Sal’s permission to go ahead with the job. I was just really allowing him to go along with it because he’d put a lot into the stores over the years, so I could understand his hesitation.
“They both really hungry, Sal. And one of them is slick as all outdoors. Goes by the nickname Bags and dresses like a boy.”
“Bags?” he quizzed.
“Yeah, between Bags and the other girl, I think they can take it.” I pushed the issue.
“Well, you know it’s a one-shot deal. If they blow it, we’ll have to find new insurance, and we’ll have to wait for years before we can try again.”
“I know. And I’m betting on black. We good, Sal, trust me.”
Sal took his feet down from the desk and rested on his elbows while rubbing the stressful decision away from his face. “All right, old friend. Then I’m riding with you.”
“Good, ’cause I’m getting ready to meet with them and tell them all about the job.” I stood up and walked over to the minibar to pour us some scotch.
“Here,” I said, handing Sal his drink. I sat on the edge of the desk and tried assuring my buddy that everything was going to go down smoothly, and by this time next week, we’d be $3 million richer.
“I hope you’re right,” Sal said, then tossed back his glass.
I finished my drink, then grabbed my sports jacket. “Just take the week off and go down to the condo we have in the Caymans. Let me handle this. By the time you get back, I’ll have your end, and it’ll be business as usual.”
“I think that I just might do that,” Sal said, walking me to the door.
“Good, I’ll have my agent set it up.” I patted Sat on his back, then stepped out of the office.
I climbed behind the wheel of my Lincoln parked at the curb. Then I turned on the oldies but goodies and drove off. I knew Sonya and Melody could handle the take. Sal’s ass was just scared. I was putting him on a plane first thing in the morning because I didn’t need him worrying too much and messing things up. Out of that three million, them silly females weren’t going to see a fraction of that. They wanted to be slick, grown, and in the game like real movers and shakers. Well, I was gon’ teach them the meaning of playing with the big boys. It’s a man’s world, and they will soon discover that.
Chapter Ten
Sonya
I had hollered at Mr. Brooks over the phone. He wanted me to meet him at the breakfast spot so we could go over the next job. I didn’t care what his old ass had lined up, as long as the job was paying like the last one. The fool could have said to kill the pope, and it would have got done. I swung past Melody’s crib so that we could go together, but she was on some, “Nah, I’m straight” type shit. That girl was really starting to get on my nerves with that scary shit. She kept pressing the issue that we “really don’t know Mr. Brooks and his true intentions.” I wasn’t having it, though. Unless her skinny ass could pickpocket me another $12,000, “we” were on our way to see Mr. Brooks ’cause I needed some more fuckin’ money. Unlike me, Melody had saved the bulk of her cash.
When we got to the restaurant, I noticed we’d beaten Mr. Brooks, so I parked at the curb two spaces up from where he’d always pull up at. Melody was giving me the silent treatment because I literally had dragged her ass out of the house by the arm.
“You know what? Just wait in the car. I’ma go in and holla at the old guy. If he asks, you got a cold, and that’s the reason you ain’t come in.”
“All right, whatever,” Melody dryly replied, staring out the window.
I didn’t know what was wrong with Melody. She was moody, acting like we had a bunch of other thousand-dollar licks lined up. I don’t know what she was going through, maybe her period or something like that. But long as she was out there going through it when Mr. Brooks pulled up so he could see her, that was all I cared about.
“Well, I see you’ve done some shopping. I hope you’ve put a little something to the side.” Mr. Brooks came inside the restaurant, immediately taking notice of my new outfit and that my dreads were retwisted.
“Oh, yeah, I most definitely did that.” I wasn’t lying about the li’l something. I only had $800 to my name. I had spent fast and hard.
“Hey, I just noticed something. Where is Miss Melody?”
“She’s out in the car. You must didn’t notice coming in. She’s coming down with a cold, and I didn’t want her bringing it in here while people ate,” I played it off.
“Okay, then. But I hope our girl is feeling better and soon because I have another job if you’re both interested. It’s paying $50,000.”
Mr. Brooks watched the lump slowly travel down my throat as I swallowed. I know he didn’t just say fifty of them thangs. Once Melody heard how much we were walking away with, I just knew her ass was going to drop that bitchy attitude and get on board with me. “Fifty racks?”
“Yeah, that’s correct. However, I must tell you it’s not as easy as the last job. And it calls for some real guts and courage.”
“No problem. What is it, when is it, and how do you want it done?” I eagerly begged to know the particulars.
“Okay, look. I own a check-cashing spot over on the West Side
. It’s one of those 24-hour joints.”
“Yeah, I know places like that.”
“Well, I want you girls to knock it off.”
“Say what?” His words threw me off.
“Yes, and there won’t be any help as far as the inside goes. The workers won’t know what’s going on, so it’ll be an actual robbery.”
“So, how are we going to get in the back? Don’t they have bulletproof glass and all of that? I’m confused.”
“Yes, it’s all of that and a locked door. But your advantage is I also have keys to the entrance door leading to the back.” Mr. Brooks slid a manila envelope across the table. “I want y’all to hit the place Monday right around noon. That’s when the money wagon makes its primary drop for the week. Like I said, this job takes real guts. So, take a few days and see how you want to do it, but let’s get it done. If not, I can easily get someone else to earn that 50K.”
“Naw, we down. But what if someone innocent gets in the way?”
“Hopefully, that won’t happen, but if it does, I understand casualties. Just get the money out of there. That’s all I truly care about in the long run. So, that’s a yes. Can you handle it?” Mr. Brooks awaited my reply.
“Robbery is my specialty—period. I got this.”
“Good. After the job is done, I want you to drop the bags off here to the waitress. Wait for me to give y’all your portion. Don’t try to open them bags because they’re rigged with ink. You need a key to open them. Just follow the instructions inside the envelope. Memorize them, then burn the paper.”
I slid the manila envelope into my jacket pocket. “No problem. I understand. Burn the paper.”
“Okay, now, Sonya, you and Melody don’t let me down. I’ve got a lot riding on this. And as soon as we’re done, I have another big job lined up. You are both gonna be rich in the months to follow.”
“Okay, cool. We with that, fa’sho. See you in a few days.” I smiled, heading toward the door. Damn, I thought, stopping in my tracks. I was so geeked up from the $50,000 that I forgot my ass is homeless.
“Is there something wrong, Sonya?” Mr. Brooks called out, observing me stopping.
I turned around and walked back over to the booth. “Sir, I’m having a slight problem, and I was hoping you might be able to help me.”
“Anything for you, Sonya. What is it?”
I slid back into the booth and spoke in a low tone. “I’m having some issues with my family, and I need some help finding a place to stay.”
“Say no more. After we’re done with this job, I’m going to set you up in a nice loft. Do you have somewhere to stay right now?”
“Yes, at least for a few days.”
“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s not a problem. I have a place that I rarely use. You can stay there for as long as you need to.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brooks.”
“Don’t mention it. I have got big plans for you, Sonya.”
Mr. Brooks hit me with a nod and a wink as I left. I couldn’t have thanked him enough. Everything that I wanted was coming to pass. Fucking with this old playa was the smartest decision of my life. I was finally about to be set.
* * *
“What was he in there talking about?” Melody swiftly asked as I got into the car.
“Wait for it. Wait for it . . . You ready? He talking about us making fifty motherfucking stacks,” I blurted out.
“Say what? Are you serious? Doing what?” Melody turned all the way around in the passenger seat to face me.
“Easy pickings, as you call it. Don’t sweat it, I’ma do all the work. Just tell me you down,” I said, holding my hand out.
“I’m down . . . I guess,” Melody said, taking my hand. “But tell me the score.”
“Okay, then, I’ma shoot you back to your crib, so I can put you down with the lick.” As I drove, I fired up a Newport just thinking about what all I could do with $25,000. My life had gone from shit to sugar since linking up with my homegirl, Melody. We made one helluva team. I just hoped she was down for this next move because it was going to be major.
Chapter Eleven
Melody
I listened to Bags run down the check-cashing lick, and I wasn’t feeling it. This idiot made it sound like all we had to do was go in and make a withdrawal, and that was going to be the end of it. She was making it seem like there wasn’t no way we could get caught. And from listening to her conversation, you’d think her fool self done robbed twenty of them joints. Yet, I knew better than to just listen to the amount of money we stood to gain. What about what we stood to lose if the shit went sour up in there? Sonya, Bags, or whatever name she wanted to go by, was trippin’ hard. Somewhere along the way, she’d managed to let that old Negro put a battery in her back and charge her straight the fuck up. I know that the first $12,000 had strings attached to it. But we didn’t have to bite. We could just walk away with not only our lives but also our freedom as well.
My new best friend and partner in petty crime wasn’t thinking that far ahead. She was gone, and the crazy part is, I’d allowed her to drag me along down the rabbit hole. After all the madness we’d been through, I couldn’t leave her out there stranded. She’d saved my ass on more than one occasion. So, even though I had an awful feeling about what she wanted to do, I was gonna ride. I just hoped we got up out of that bitch alive and in one piece.
Over the next few days, Bags had been inside the check-cashing spot a few times. I don’t know if she thought she was some professional heist man or some shit, but she claimed that everything was kosher.
“The only thing you gotta do is open the back door.” Bags handed me the key.
“I’ll do it, but straight-up, if something pops off while we in there, all you gon’ see is the back of my head gettin’ small.”
“Ain’t no thing. This lick be cake. Nothing will go sideways.”
On the day of the lick, I dressed up like a straight-up clown of sorts. I’d gone to the beauty supply store and bought some wire-framed glasses with a rose-color tint, a cheap, black, shoulder-length wig, and a skull cap.
I applied a dark foundation to my face, neck, arms, and hands. After finishing the application, I was more than a few shades darker. To finish off my disguise, I placed a fake mole above my lip and a fake nose stud in my right nostril. After throwing on an old velour, two-tone tracksuit I’d purchased from the thrift store, I was ready.
Bags looked at my getup. “You crazy. No need for all that costume shit.”
“Whateva. I ain’t tryin’ to see the back of a police car or hearse.”
As planned, I slid into the check-cashing place first. I stepped over to one of the stands pretending like I was signing a check, then went to the back of the line. As the line inched closer to the door leading behind the counter, I purposely dropped the piece of paper I was holding.
“Excuse me,” I said. I waved the two customers standing behind me to go ahead. I slowly stood back up and scanned the lobby area. Within seconds, it was on. I could see Bags on her way, barreling in through the double doors dressed in black and ready to kill something if necessary. I assumed the two-finger dip position, arms folded across my chest. Trying to remain as if I were an innocent bystander, I casually leaned up against the door, using the key Mr. Brooks gave us. Just like that, the security door was prime.
As I stepped away from the door, Bags pulled her gun from her oversized purse and bolted for the unlocked door. I had to hold all the customers in check so nobody could run out and alert the police. I was standing there with my mom’s old .38 Special, trembling like a motherfucker.
“Don’t nobody move,” I shouted, trying to sound crazy and hoping they all believed me. “Ya won’t be cashing them checks today, not at Sal’s, so relax.” I laid everybody down, then looked over the counter to see what was taking Bags so long. She had the two cashiers hemmed up against the wall with the barrel pressed to the back of one of their skulls. I thought, Please, give up the money, lady.
�
��Where the fuck is my money?” Bags loudly demanded, dressed like a prissy female, floppy hat with her dreads tucked underneath, pressed on nails, and a sundress and pumpkin seed sneakers.
“It’s in the vault,” the other woman cried out, praying for mercy.
“Open it, bitch,” Bags said, gripping them both up and pushing them toward the back and out of my sight. I looked at the clock high up on the wall. We had been in here two minutes too long, and my heart was about to jump right out my chest. Please, hurry up.
“Hurry up. I’m not playing around, bitch, so you betta stop stalling.”
I could hear Bags in the back going wild. Then I heard the thundering sounds of gunshots ring out. I damn near shitted on myself at the sound. The customers all feared that they were next, so they all said “fuck me” and jumped to their feet, running out the door to escape unharmed. Suddenly, Bags came running out the rear with three big bags at her side. She tossed one into my chest and waved me to come out with the gun. We ran out of the store behind the stampede of everyone else. Wasting no time, we cut down to the alley where the first of three stashed getaway vehicles sat, a stolen grey Chevy Tahoe.
Bags took the wheel. “Close the door,” she demanded in a rush as I stuffed my bag into the rear seat next to the two she’d also thrown back there. We peeled down the alley and came out on a side street. We could hear sirens coming in our direction.
“Fuck,” I mumbled as my heart raced.
“Just relax,” Bags urged as four Detroit police cars blew past in the opposite direction.
I looked in my side mirror, praying to God that they didn’t hit a U-turn. Thankfully, God must have heard my prayers because within minutes, we were getting on the Davidson expressway headed for the next vehicle so we could swap out.
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