Mann had good intentions, but under no conditions was he supposed to leave the stash house unattended with money and drugs inside.
“Yo, my nigga, what are you doin’ out here? Get the fuck back in there. It’s over!” Tone chastised him.
“My fault! My fault!” he apologized. “Niggas said you was out here beefin’ wit’ some dope fiend nigga, so I jetted outside to see what’s good.”
Mann was Tone’s responsibility, yet his younger cousin was very protective of him. Tone couldn’t blame him for coming outside to check on him. Still, Tone bore the burden of not only providing for his cousin, but protecting his life with his own. If anything happened to Mann the blame would fall squarely on him. He vowed not to let nothing happen to his cousin, not on his watch.
“That’s dead,” he told him. “Go the fuck back up in the crib. We’ll kick it later.”
“Aiight,” Mann replied as he turned and headed back to the stash house.
Meanwhile, Tone remained outside. It was business as usual for him. In the proceeding moment after the altercation, Sykes didn’t cross his mind. Before long, Shorty returned to the block with the news of Tone’s action having already reached her ears.
“What’s this I hear you and Sykes got into it?” she suddenly asked.
“Fuck Sykes!” he stated. “That dope fiend nigga’. He was tryin’ to get some free coke outta me. I told the fat nigga no. He ain’t like it. He acted like he wanted to do something, so I backed out the joint on him.”
Shorty replied, “Wham bam just like that huh? I heard you pulled a gun out and threatened to kill him. Tone, he not the type of nigga you threaten or pull a gun out on. He’s the type of nigga you kill! Sykes ain’t wrapped too tight, yo. He’s comin’ back, and he ain’t comin’ to talk!”
In Shorty’s opinion, Tone didn’t know who or what he was dealing with. She couldn’t stress enough to Tone just how dangerous Sykes was. He might have been a dope fiend in appearance, but Sykes was a killer at heart. Shorty was trying to warn Tone exactly what he was up against. Clearly, Tone had missed the point.
Heated, Tone snapped. “I don’t care about none of that shit! Ain’t nobody afraid of that old ass dope fiend nigga. You think when they made his gun they only made one, huh?”
Tone thought just because Shorty disagreed with him that she didn’t understand his position. That thought couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Shorty explained. “I’m just warnin’ you, yo, I ain’t tryin’ to say you can’t hold ya own…. I’m just telling you so you’ll watch your back.”
Somehow Tone had mistaken Shorty’s relaying of information as an act of her taking sides against him.
“Yo, fuck him. If he come back around, I’ll handle it,” he announced.
Oh he will, Shorty thought.
In this situation Shorty felt that New York arrogance was preventing Tone from heeding her message. She hoped that wasn’t the case. However, whether he liked it or not, she felt like it was her job to at least warn him.
Tone continued, “You make this nigga out to be some kind of boogeyman. Yo, that nigga bleeds too!”
Tone felt like Shorty was blowing the situation way out of proportion. There was no way that Sykes was half as bad as she said he was. No way.
“Okay Tone, I’m done wit’ that,” she said. “I’m goin’ back to handlin’ my business, yo. Be careful…..”
With that said, Shorty turned and walked away. Tone had too much pride at the moment to talk rationally to him. And on the streets of Baltimore pride would get you killed quicker than arrogance or disrespect.
Shorty made a mental note to keep an extra set of eyes on Tone. In her opinion, she was sure he would need it. Shorty knew as long as Tone hustled on this block, or in East Baltimore for that matter, seeing Sykes again was inevitable.
7
Where the fuck is this nigga at? Sonya thought, wondering where her man was, or better yet, when he was coming home.
Sonya sat on the couch, completely frustrated. Her television flashed images from The Arsenio Hall Show. Her favorite R&B group, Jodeci, was on. Yet she barely paid them any attention. She just wasn’t in the mood. Sonya had more pressing concerns. Her thoughts were focused on Tone’s whereabouts, where he was or rather whom he might be with.
Try as she might to push those thoughts out of her mind, she couldn’t. Sonya knew Tone was a good looking guy, coupled with the fact that he was making money in the streets and the fact that he was from New York, it was a recipe for disaster. She knew that chicks from the south, Baltimore in particular, had a natural attraction for dudes from New York. So Sonya made it a point to keep her eye on Tone. She knew temptation was everywhere and he wasn’t an angel. Sonya had caught Tone cheating on her before in New York and she forgave him. On the surface she did anyway. But mentally, his prior infidelity was yet to be resolved within her. And probably never would.
For Sonya, there was sanctity in a committed relationship that one shouldn’t violate. She was very traditional when it came to that. Her rules were simple, no cheating. And now that they were living together, don’t let the sun beat you home. There was no excuse for staying out all night. Whatever Tone was doing in the streets in the nighttime he could do in the daytime as far as she was concerned. Violating those rules was the difference between Sonya’s unconditional love and her removing you from her life, forever.
Although her boyfriend may have a newfound obsession with the streets, Sonya had remained deeply in love with him as ever. Whether she cared to admit it or not, Sonya had a soft spot in her heart for Tone. According to her rules, he should have been cut off after his first incident of cheating. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to let him go. She really wanted this relationship to work. Sonya couldn’t see herself with anyone else. He was her high school sweetheart, the man she lost her virginity to. Tone was the only dude she’d ever been with. In her mind this was a special relationship, something she would tell her grandkids about someday.
Sonya thought her love could change him. She was slowly coming to the realization that maybe it couldn’t. The only thing that seemed to be changing Tone was money, and it was doing a good job of it, too.
On a daily basis, Tone wasn’t measuring up to the expectations that Sonya had of him. There were days that she barely saw him. Every day without fail, Tone came home late. His street activities were at the center of their conflict. They had several heart to heart talks where Tone explained to her exactly what he was trying to do. Sonya seemed to understand that sacrifices had to be made for Tone to achieve his street dreams of making it in the drug game. However, she didn’t know that she was going to be the sacrificial lamb. That their relationship was going to suffer because of his relentless pursuit of the almighty dollar.
In these instances, Tone was fond of saying, Women remember the things that they shouldn’t remember, referring to his cheating. And forget the things that they shouldn’t forget, referring to who was paying the bills. Love and relationships were the afterthought, money always came first with Tone.
Simply put, when it came to women Tone was a man with options. He was like a kid in a candy store, exploring a lot of them. He had a thing for women from Baltimore, and even more so they had a thing for him.
Suddenly, she grabbed the phone and punched in his pager number. Her fingers moved robotically over the keypad as they recalled Tone’s number by heart. Angry, Sonya felt like she had done this for the umpteenth time and she swore she wasn’t calling Tone any more. Who was she kidding? Even though he had ignored her phone calls, Sonya was going to keep calling Tone’s pager until he returned her calls.
Was he locked up, shot or dead? Sonya mused. Those ill feelings were gnawing at her. Sonya’s suspicious nature was quickly turning into fear.
After punching her home phone number into the pager, Sonya added the numerical code of 911. This was supposed to emphasize to Tone that this was an emergency. But Sonya had done this too many times before, in non-
emergency situations, for Tone to fall for that again.
Once she was done, Sonya slammed the receiver down and continued to wait, impatiently, for a call that may or may not come.
On a good day, when Tone wasn’t running the streets, which was rare, Sonya felt like a hustler’s wife, pampered, spoiled, loved and appreciated. On a bad day, like today, she felt like a side chick, betrayed, lied to and disrespected.
That’s when all the doubt and negativity seemed to seep in. A voice in the back of her mind told her to leave him, that she deserved to be treated better than this. Sonya had every reason in the world to leave and yet no reason at all.
For Sonya, life with Tone wasn’t turning into all that she thought it would be. She thought the move to Baltimore would bring them closer together. But in all actuality, all it did was drive them apart. Ever since Tone arrived in Baltimore, the dynamic of their relationship changed. They weren’t clicking. Or at least not like they use to. In her mind, Tone had lost sight of their relationship in the process of him becoming the man in the streets. Sonya was starting to feel like collateral damage. She couldn’t remember a time that she was truly happy. Recently, she tried to stick it out and wait for things to get better, but they actually had gotten worst. Tone’s selfishness was killing their relationship.
Sonya saw firsthand how the street life in Baltimore had steadily corrupted Tone more so than it had in New York. Over the past few months he had changed into someone she didn’t know. Sonya had seen a side of Tone that she never knew existed. He was a one-track minded man who preferred running the streets to a quiet night at home.
Of course Sonya didn’t mind all the benefits Tone’s drug dealing lifestyle afforded them. His success in the streets had trickled down to her. They had moved from her small off-campus apartment into a rented home in Baltimore County. She loved the brand new white BMW 3 Series convertible she drove that drug money had paid for.
There was the MCM bags, Gucci designer shoes that her boyfriend showered on her. And what was not to like about the shopping sprees to Mondawmin Mall in Baltimore, Maryland, and Fifth Avenue in New York City. Tone had been more than generous to Sonya with his money. Although most times Sonya thought his generosity came with a price, the expensive gifts were to buy her silence. Those things were just material possessions, things she really didn’t need.
Rrrrrrriiinnngggg! The sudden sound of the telephone shattered the silence, interrupting Sonya’s thoughts.
“Hello,” she said with a nasty attitude, picking it up on the first ring.
“Yo, what’s up?” Tone barked into the phone. “What’s the emergency? Why you blowin’ up my pager?”
The other end of the phone went silent as Sonya listened intently, trying to ear hustle and pick up on any background noise or voices that might indicate where Tone was at, or what he was doing.
“Yo, Sonya, what’s up? You there?” he shouted.
“Yeah, I’m here,” she spat. “Where you at?”
Tone began, “How many times I gotta tell you, I’m handlin’ business.”
“You so predictable, Tone. You keep givin’ me the same lame excuse. What the fuck you brought ya cousin down here for if you still gotta do everything? Huh?” she complained.
“Yo, you buggin’, Sonya,” Tone told her. “I can’t have this conversation that you wanna have right now over the phone. I ain’t tryin’ to get indicted explainin’ myself to you. We’ll talk when I get there, man.”
Tone was beginning to realize that there was no pleasing Sonya. Either he could spend time with her by staying in the house and be broke, or he could hustle his ass off and spend crazy money on her. But he couldn’t do both. His drug business needed his full attention. Though Sonya might beg to differ. She always preached moderation. Tone didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word. To him drug dealing wasn’t an occupation. It was a lifestyle.
He was fond of saying, I’m doin’ everything I can to get everything I can while I can.
Sonya was right, Tone was predictable in a sense. She knew her inquisitive questions would lead to him giving her the cold shoulder. Tone wouldn’t divulge any information over the phone, or anywhere else for that matter. Like most street dudes, he had a sneaky suspicion that the phones were being wiretapped by the police. This was his defense mechanism. Tone called himself protecting her, shielding her from the streets. She called it being secretive.
He once told her, What you don’t know, you can’t tell. It didn’t matter to him what Sonya thought. He couldn’t ease her fears of him cheating on her or leaving her. So he dealt with it the best way he could, by ignoring it.
“What time you plan on coming home?” Sonya asked reluctantly.
Tone replied, “Couple more minutes. I’m on my way home now.”
“Don’t have me waitin’ fa you all night,” she added. “You hear me?”
“Yeah man, I hear you!” he snapped. “Bye.”
Sonya sighed. She really didn’t have the patience to deal with his inconsiderateness right now, or any other time for that matter. Listlessly she sat on the couch as she continued to stew in her own anger. Time went by ever so slowly as she anxiously awaited Tone’s arrival.
About an hour later, the squeaky sound of the door opening signaled his arrival home. Sonya was very much aware of Tone’s presence. She listened intently as the soft sounds of his footsteps made their way toward her. Soon he was standing right before her, blocking the television with a smirk on his face. Rolling her eyes, she glared up at him evilly.
“Yo, what’s up?” Tone said.
“You’re what’s up!” Sonya complained. “Tone, I’m beginning to feel like you don’t got no kind of fuckin’ respect for me. This is not what a man does when he lives wit’ his woman. You waltz in here all hours of the night. Nigga, I barely see you. We hardly ever spend time together..... All you do is eat, sleep, and run the streets. It’s like you and me ain’t a couple. And if that’s the case, lemme know so I won’t be sittin’ here lookin’ all stupid and shit.”
“Are you alright?” he asked, hinting that there might be something else bothering her.
Honestly, Sonya wasn’t doing well at all. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t focus in school. Stressing over Tone was beginning to affect her schoolwork.
“No, I’m not alright,” she pointed out. “Are you alright wit’ the way things are goin’ wit’ us? From how things appear, obviously you are.”
He speculated. “What are you talking about?”
She just glared angrily at him, as if to say, Really? Do I have to clarify that statement?
“What are you talking about?” Tone repeated. “You can’t be serious.”
“To tell you the truth,” she began, “I don’t know how long I can keep puttin’ up wit’ this. Sooner or later you gonna have to make a decision, me or the streets.”
The entire ride home, Tone thought of all the things he was going to say, all the valid points he would raise during their argument. Suddenly, he was having a tough time remembering it all.
“Stop givin’ me ultimatums,” he warned. “You knew what it was when you met me.”
“Yeah that’s true,” Sonya replied. “But you ain’t never spend this much time in the streets before.”
“And I ain’t never made this kind of money before either,” he told her. “So I guess we even.”
Tone turned and stormed out of the living room, heated at Sonya for having to explain himself. In hot pursuit, Sonya quickly got up out of her seat and followed him into the bedroom.
“It’s funny how you always questionin’ me about where I’m at or what I’m doin’. I don’t even know if you fuckin’ even goin’ to school at all,” he implied.
Tone could talk shit all he wanted to, but there was one thing he never had to question, and that was Sonya’s loyalty to him. She was blind to a fault.
Sonya replied, “Tone, you gotta do better than that. I ain’t about to let you turn this shit around on me. I don’
t know what you up to, but you up to something.”
To Tone there was nothing more frustrating than being accused of something without any real proof.
“So now I’m up to something?” he echoed, while beginning to undress.
Tone felt like a hypocrite because he was cheating and lying to his girlfriend’s face about it. For him there was no pussy like new pussy. But he knew Sonya was just mad that she hadn’t caught him slipping up yet. To him, this relationship thing was beginning to be a contest of who tells the best lies.
“Like what?” he asked.
“To be honest, I think you gotta chick on the side. I really believe you fuckin’ around on me,” Sonya guessed.
“Sonya, you really need to get outside more often and stop stayin’ cooped up in this crib, because home girl, you buggin’ the fuck out!” he stated. “Why am I goin’ out for hamburger, when I got steak right here at home, huh?”
“I don’t know,” she insisted. “You tell me.”
“Ya too emotional,” Tone swore. “Ya feelings is overriding ya common sense. And that’s bad.”
Sonya stared at Tone intensely, looking him directly in the eye, as if that would give her the answer that she sought. Tone told so many lies she didn’t know what to believe any more. All she wanted was the truth so they could repair their relationship. Why couldn’t he understand that?
Tone refused to make an effort to even understand Sonya’s position because that required him to take some responsibility for his actions. Owning up to his mistakes was like admitting he was wrong. Tone was a man, so he could never admit that.
Making as minimal eye contact as possible, Tone continued to strip off his clothing until they were piled up in front of him in the middle of the floor. He stood before Sonya in only a white form fitting wife beater and a pair of Karl Kani boxers.
Sonya stood within inches of her boyfriend, looking awkwardly at him. “You finished? I’m bout to take a shower,” he suddenly announced.
She replied, “No, I’m not finished. Before you jump in the shower, lemme smell ya dick.”
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