by Keon Smith
“It’s your mother, isn’t it? That’s why you hold back on love.”
Montega flashed back to the night he saw his mom getting ready to go out. Juicy’s voice broke his thought.
“Her murder still haunts you, doesn’t it?”
He then thought of her death and put his head down. “I can’t get her out of my head. She was the only woman I ever loved. The only one I’ve ever cared for. Now look where she is.” He brushed his fingers over his waves. “It’s my fault. I should have been there for her. I should have protected her. I should’ve…” Montega clenched his fist as a tear rolled down his cheek.
Juicy moved in and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She kissed him on top of the head then rested her face on the back of his neck. Montega put his hand on hers and accepted her warm embrace.
“It’s not your fault, papi. You can’t keep blaming yourself for something you weren’t there to stop. All you can do is be there for the ones who are still around, the ones who love you more than you love yourself.”
The next morning, Montega came down to find Lil’ Man still seated at the table with his cut waiting for him. It was the most money Montega had ever seen at one time. “I bet you won’t have a problem copping four-and-a-half with that, will you?” Lil’ Man asked.
“Shit, not only am I coppin’ four-and-a-half, but I’m grabbin’ a wheel too. I’ma have to put it in my sister’s name though.”
“Yeah, you could use your own wheels and stop driving your girl’s little ass Neon,” Lil’ Man joked before rolling up another Dutch of wet.
Montega’s drug of choice was weed, so when Lil’ Man offered, he politely declined then pulled out a Dutch of Haze. That morning, they all got high until the sun came up. A few hours later, J-Rider and Killa drove Montega and Faith to the Gallery Mall downtown so he could get her a few things since Lil’ Man and Ski-Mask were too busy.
Faith graduated from high school and was on the waiting list to enroll in the military Special Forces. Montega envied her for having the heart to go overseas and fight for her country. He loved her like a little sister and made sure she was happy whenever he could.
As the two sat in the backseat, Montega asked, “Yo, Faith. Why the hell do you want to enroll in the military anyway?”
For a second, Faith was caught off-guard by the question but allowed herself time to answer. “Because it seems like the only place I can get away from my brothers and do what I want to do,” she replied.
“And what do you want to do?”
“Explore. Be part of something that I can be proud of. You know, there’s a lot more than Philadelphia, right? There’s destiny, and it’s out there waiting for us. I know you’re smarter than my brothers and everyone else in your crew. Don’t spend the rest of your life here, doing the same shit, when you have so much more potential. There comes a time when you have to move on, regardless of what others might think of you. That’s what I’m doing—moving on,” she explained, looking out the window as they sped down the expressway.
Montega thought back to when they were kids. “Faith, remember when we were young, and you said that when you grew up, you wanted to be like La Femme-Nikita?” he asked, causing her to look at him and smile. “What happened to that?”
“I… guess I grew out of that stage. Now, I just want to be a war hero, I guess.”
“Well, promise me that when you’re done playing soldier girl, you’ll come see me in my castle. By then, I’ll be the King of Philly,” he said, causing her to laugh.
Faith looked back out the window, murmuring, “That’ll be the day.”
A Cursed Black Car
“This was my husband’s project before he was killed…”
OLIVIA HOWARD
After hiding out at Lil’ Man’s crib for a few days, J-Rider dropped Montega off on Blakemore where J-Black and Razor were chillin’ on the Chinese store steps, smoking weed and getting money as always.
The block looked like a drive-thru at McDonald’s. Crackheads were coming from every direction. Taliban came out of the alley behind the Chinese store with a handful of dimes. As Montega shut the back door, he saw his sister’s white KIA Ultima parked a few inches away from the bullet-riddled mailbox that everyone leaned on in front of the Chinese store. It was the same mailbox that had saved his life a few nights ago.
Breezy sat in the passenger seat, playing in her hair while talking on her Sprint.
In the back seat, Amber and Jasmine spoke amongst themselves until they spotted him. They were still amused by the face he made the day they pulled up beside him and Mike.
“Hey, brother,” Jasmine said as J-Rider pulled away.
“Don’t hey me,” he replied, causing the two to laugh again.
“I heard they scared your ass good,” Kia said with a smirk.
Montega gave a weak smile before leaving them and approaching his righthand man. Breezy glanced over at him and looked away quickly. She sucked her teeth with irritation. “Can we go, Kia?”
“Wait, bitch, dag,” Kia snapped. “What are you in such a rush for? The mall ain’t going nowhere. I need to make sure my brothers are cool.”
“Kia, would you quit it,” Montega said, taking the Dutch from Razor. “I never thought I’d see the day when my sister starts playing Momma’s role.”
“Don’t get smart, because I can really start playing the momma’s role and kick ya ass out here. Let’s not forget who’s the oldest. You know what?” She started up her car.
“That will get her out of here,” Montega mumbled before watching her pull off.
“Yo, you peep shorty in the back seat?” Razor asked, tapping him. “She just moved on the block. They say she be up in them rap videos, shaking her ass. That shit fat too.”
“It’s fat like that?” Montega asked.
“Dog, that ass dumb fat. A shorty like that be on dudes with heavy bread though. You should already know that from the way Kia roll.”
“Yeah, you right. But I ain’t feeling that chick Breezy. She pretty and all, but she always looking like she got an attitude—keep giving me the rock like I owe her something.”
“She probably like you,” J-Black said as a smoker walked up on him to cop.
“She don’t like nobody but the almighty dollar,” Montega hissed.
“Can you blame her?” Razor asked, plucking the roach to the ground and stepping on it. “Who wants to be with a broke nigga?”
“Who wants to be with a broke bitch?” Montega retorted defensively.
“Shit, I’ll take any chick right about now,” J-Black said, raising his hand to let a female crackhead know that he was her guy to cop from.
The woman was two pounds away from disappearing. She was tall with a nappy head and dirty, balled-up white sneakers that looked gray.
“You got dimes?” she asked.
“How many?”
Montega’s eyes reverted from J-Black to the green Maybach 5’7. It slowed down and pulled into the parking space that Kia once occupied. The car was sparkling with twenty-four-inch rims. Razor was in awe, and so was Black. No one had ever seen a Maybach up close, let alone in the hood.
In the driver’s side was a heavy-set guy with a small afro and no facial hair. He wore a Gucci-printed shirt with a diamond chain and watch.
His man in the passenger’s seat was bald and a shade lighter than he was. He had a short, scruffy beard and a missing tooth. The driver gritted on Montega from head to toe as if he wasn’t worth the ground he stepped on. Taliban came out of the alley and got his attention.
“Young blood,” he said.
“Yo, bol, what’s good with you, old head?” Taliban greeted.
“Do me a favor,” the driver said, going into his pocket. He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and said, “Grab me a soda. Ginger ale if they have it, and if you hurry, I’ll let you keep the change.”
Taliban took the money and headed for the Chinese store. Montega watched his brother with disgust. His eyes sharply cut b
ack at the driver. He was looking Black’s way. “You seen Mike around!”
“Nah, not this morning,” Black told him as Taliban returned. He handed him the soda.
“Good looking out, young blood. Aye, when you see Mike, tell him Fly Ty came through looking for him.” He then looked at Montega once more, snorted from an inside joke, and pulled off.
Montega wanted to curse his brother out, but before he could speak, the black Range Rover slowly cruised down the block. Even through the dark tint, he could see the woman inside. She didn’t stop, nor did she beep the horn. She just continued on.
“Where you been at anyway?” Razor asked him.
“I was in the Badlands with Lil’ Man. You know I had to twist Juicy’s back out a couple times,” he replied.
“Yeah, I feel you on that one. That’s a bad little Spanish broad. You need to pass her off though, and stop handcuffing these hoes. It’s too many of ’em out here,” Razor stated.
Montega was known for fucking the baddest broads in the hood. He had high standards for his women. His mother once said, “Women are like watches. You don’t borrow them, and you don’t lend them out. If she’s not what you see yourself having on your arm, then she ain’t worth your time. You never know what the future holds. That same girl you have a one-night stand with can end up making me a grandma someday. So therefore, choose who you want. Don’t let no woman choose you…”
Montega took that to heart and applied it to his view of all women. Everyone thought that he was a ‘handcuffer’ from the way females were so head-over-heels for him. Really, he was just being himself, and females adored the ground he walked on.
“You hit it right on the mark, bro. There is too many women out here, so why are you sweatin’ mine? Juicy ain’t no pass-off, and can’t none of them chicks do what she do and ride like she ride,” Montega bragged, taking the weed from him and pulling on it.
“That’s understandable,” Razor responded. “All these chicks out here be lookin’ for a quick come-up. Whatever happened to hard dick and bubble gum?”
“That got played out once dikes, vibrators, and dildos got popular,” J-Black joked.
Razor turned to look at his partner. “Man, Mike got us moving bundles now. He told me to let you know, and when you get a chance, call him.”
“It ain’t ’bout nothin’. You can give bol his bundles back because I got point money. Once I cop, I’ll sell you an ounce from it,” Montega promised
“Oh yeah?” J-Black asked, listening in on the conversation. “Where you get the money from?”
“I saved my bread, dog… unlike you.”
“That’s what’s up, bol,” Razor said. “Yo, we should go to that party at the Penicle. I heard that shit is gonna be bananas. Black said he could get us in. You with it?”
“I don’t know, bol. Who all gonna be there?” Montega blew out a cloud of smoke.
“Who gonna be there?” J-Black asked excitedly. “Every bad bitch in the city gonna be there. It’s gonna be mad dudes with mad loot, so you know groupies ain’t too far behind. I’m tryna rent a 2004 Bentley Flying Spur for the night,” J-Black said while sticking his hand in his pockets like a boss.
Montega twisted his lips to the side in doubt and looked at his partner, who had the same expression. They both knew that Black’s idea of a Flying Spur, would end up being a Pontiac GT or a Dodge Magnum.
“Yo, we ’bout to hit the mall out in King of Prussia. You rollin’ with us?” Razor asked.
“Nah, I’ll catch up with y’all. I gotta meet up with somebody. In fact, where is Mike?”
“He chillin’ right now,” Razor replied. “Whitehead and Lucca ridin’ around snatchin’ dudes up about the murder that happened out here. They even grabbed Mike and took him to the Round House for questioning. Them thirsty ass dickheads just wanna fuck with somebody. I’m surprised Whitehead don’t be gettin’ information from his daughter.”
“I got some information for him,” Montega added, checking his G-Shock watch. “Don’t let me play the back seat while you play the front.”
As the guys smiled, an orange Dodge Charger pulled up. On the driver’s side was a chocolate-brown sista with a crinkly hairstyle, high cheekbones, and thick, glossy lips. She wasn’t all that good looking in the face, but the car made her glow with attraction. “I’m looking for Kenny Carter,” she said in a sweet voice.
Everyone looked at Montega as he smoothly stepped forward to extend his hand. “That would be me,” he said, allowing her to check him out from head-to-toe.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Olivia, the person you spoke with on the phone about the cars. Would you mind riding with me to go see them?”
With no explanation, Montega got into the woman’s car, and they pulled off, heading for her house on Old York Road.
It was a large road that started from Broad Street and cut through a vast suburban county called Willow Grove. Olivia pulled off the road, taking a few small streets until she pulled up to a nice-sized house with a five-car garage.
“Here we are,” she said before getting out.
Montega opened the door and followed her up the driveway. Olivia hit the key pad. One of the five-garage doors opened. They both stepped inside the spacious area that smelled of gasoline and motor oil. Five cars sat side by side. A red 2004 Corvette sat beside a silver 2004 Mustang GT. There was a yellow 2004 Camaro and a black 2002 Buick Lacrosse. The fifth car beside them had a cover over it.
Juicy’s brother, Mario, had hipped Montega to the woman. Somehow, she was able to get cars from a friend who stole them and switched the VIN numbers with cars that were totaled and found in the junkyard. Olivia had a guy friend who worked in a print shop to create VIN numbers for the stolen cars. His job was to make the numbers inside the doors disappear along with the sticker on the windows, which were cut out and removed so that nothing could be traced.
Montega didn’t know this, and he didn’t need to know. Olivia had been so good at her side hustle that she sold cars to CarMax and could get any vehicle that a person asked for… for the right price. Her second side hustle was with a man who repossessed exotic cars. What he did was repo the car and never mark it down for confiscation. Olivia would be the one to handle the rest of the work and make the sale.
Montega studied each car with admiration. Olivia followed him. “Everything you see here goes for ten grand a piece. The Corvette is fifteen, however, but it’s only got a few hundred miles on it.”
Montega was quiet as he inspected the red V8. He had nineteen grand in his pocket and was ready to spend it on the ‘Vette. He thought about the women that would be on him after seeing him in the driver’s seat. He pictured the envious stares he would get from the guys. He could feel the hate as he zoomed by them. He reached into his pocket but stopped when he saw the car under the cover.
“What’s that over there?” he asked curiously.
“What? That old thing?” Olivia asked with a frown.
“Yeah. What is it?”
Olivia walked over to the car and grabbed the white cover by its hem. She pulled it off to expose a black, 1996 Chevy Impala SS with a custom Ram Air hood, dual exhaust, and factory rims.
“Damn, now that’s off the chain,” Montega said, allured.
Olivia was shocked. She glanced at the other car and said, “You like this?”
“Yeah, what’s up with it?”
Olivia shrugged as she looked at it. “This was my husband’s project before he was killed. Owwww, I hated the attention he paid to this car. I literally fought for his attention. It’s funny because I still can’t stand the sight of it. It’s got low mileage, has over a thousand horsepower. I think he changed the engine to a 430 Hemi. The only problem is the window. They don’t roll down. Don’t ask me why.”
“Damn,” was all he could say before looking back at the Corvette. He really wanted to stunt, but then reality hit him. He wasn’t a Corvette type of guy, meaning he didn’t have the money to back up the status that came
with the car. That right there was considered faking, so he turned back to the Impala.
“How much you want for this?”
“You’re serious?” she asked. “I would have thought a handsome man like yourself would want the finer things in life.”
Montega shook his head with a smirk, saying, “I do want the finer things in life, ma. But right now, I need to be low key for the type of life I live now, or I could risk losing it.”
The Devil’s Confessions
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
DIAMOND WHITE
The heavy iron hinges squeaked as Bain opened the large, gold ornate doors of the huge Cathedral. A bright ray of sunlight poured inside. He stepped to the side for his boss to enter. Then he closed the doors and stood guard while Diamond walked down the aisle with only the sound of Giuseppe heels tapping the marble floors as she strutted to the confession booth. The cream Hermes ostrich dress she wore was tailored to her curves, complementing the brown color of her shoes and matched her Valentino box bag. Chocolate diamonds flooded her delicious cleavage, matching the five carat studs in her ears and on her bracelet.
Placing her bag down in the front pew, she walked inside and closed the curtains before sitting down, crossing her succulent legs. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she said while making the cross sign over herself.
Once the priest allowed her to begin her confession, she wasted no time. “Father, I need help. I know that, over the years, I’ve acted as if I’ve been dealing with life in a God-fearing way, but truthfully, I’m no better than the Devil himself. I have a lot of skeletons in my closet. Many of them are because of my past,” Diamond confessed as her rage intensified.
She hated to show her emotions, even in the house of God. Whenever she felt like crying, she would counter it with anger. Diamond sniffled but refused to let a tear fall as she thought of her father’s death.
“What’s a girl to do when she loses almost all of the people who mean so much to her?” Diamond confessed. “JR was my heart, Mercedes my sanity, and my father… He was everything. Without them, I feel alone. And the only way I know how to deal with it is through violence. Lately, I’ve been getting crazy vibes from my brother and everyone else I work with. It makes me feel as though they’re plotting against me. Maybe I’m just delusional, but whatever it is, it’s bringing out the demons inside me.”