One Hustler's World

by Nikita Stewart

  KT, cognizant of his friend’s snide undertone, pulled Dynamo aside. "Let me get that thing we broke down earlier."

  Dynamo went into the bedroom then called out to him. "You peep my new wheels?"

  "The crème Navi out front?"

  "That's me."

  Angel's subtle nudge removed KT's sneer. Dynamo returned and gave him a large, marijuana-stuffed paper bag. KT placed it inside a Food Lion grocery bag then gave it to Angel.

  “How much is this?" She inquired astonishingly.

  "One pound already chopped to pieces."

  “How long does it takes to move this much?"

  Dynamo chimed in. "No more than a day, sometimes half. Everybody loves this low price blueberry, Kush." He turned his attention back to KT. "Matter of fact, ace, I think we might need another load in about two, maybe three days."

  “I'll holla at the plug later tonight or early tomorrow." KT turned his attention turned to a matter. "Look, ace, we rolling avalanche thick. And I know all about the desire to stunt on the haters. But we not rolling thick enough to cop Navis. Even if we were, whips like that breed attention we can do without."

  Dynamo asked. "You know Tech?"

  “Yo cousin, uncle, or something like that."

  “He got tired of making the payments, so I decided to take it over. It's still in his name. Fully loaded. I had to jump on it."

  “All this came about since I last came through a couple of hours ago?"

  “The opportunity came, so I jumped,” Dynamo affirmed.

  KT pulling him aside, whispered. "I understand why you flushing it. Just don't park that hot ass truck out front where everybody can see it. Whips like that give dudes an incentive to act up."

  Dynamo nodded. “I'll park it a block or so away."

  "Don't forget what I said about never answering the door without a gun. Keep thinking everything sweet, dudes gone start thinking the same about our trap spot."

  Angel interjected. “Baby, don't we need to be someplace?"

  KT gave his young friend a manly embrace. Holding the door open, he said. “Dynamo, the more you stunt, the more haters scheme on yo demise. Keep em in the dark. When they can no longer hurt you, that's when you shine like the sun."

  Angel ushered from the apartment, downstairs, into the chilly evening night, took KT’s hand. "Baby, you need to be more careful how you talk to people. It’s not always what you say, but how you say it."

  Befuddled, he asked. “What did I say that was so bad?"

  "I don't think Dynamo appreciate you talking down to him like that. Not to mention in front of Candace."

  “You see what they were in there doing. He can care-less about what Candance thinks. Plus, I was whispering. So you don’t know what I was saying."

  “That's beside the point. You upset Dynamo. I could see it on his face. Candace saw it too."

  As expected, a cherry red Chevy Camaro veered into the parking lot. The bright muscle car parked on the Lincoln Navigator opposite side. Two identically dressed women emerged. KT pulled Angel into his whisper. "You said you wanted to meet her."

  “Meet who?" She was turned towards the clack of stiletto heels impacting asphalt. Angel gauged the approaching tall, golden brown beauty adorning a snug fit, Burr-Berry jean outfit, and black 3 inch Alexander McQueen stilettoes.

  The woman’s unbuttoned jacket gave a radiance to her tiny waist, sensual abdomen, and black halter-top encased 34Bs. Her double dimple smile glowing, the woman pulled the identically dressed redhead, white woman alongside her. Both women greeted KT warmly.

  "What's good, Yolanda... Maxine." He returned then pulled Angel close. "Ladies, this beautiful specimen my missing rib, Angel."

  Angel accepted the golden-brown beauty's outstretched hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Yolanda."

  “Same here." Yolanda pulled the not-surprisingly reluctant Maxine closer. She ran her hand through Maxine's red, naturally curly hair. "This is Maxine. But we call her Red for obvious reasons."

  “See, I won't lying." KT jokingly chimed in.

  "Angel, much as he raves about you, you definitely his heart." Yolanda noticed how a raspberry, Donna Karan pantsuit, and gold, 4 inch Manolo Blahnik heels enhanced every inch of Angel’s equally tall, athletically curvaceous frame. "Angel, honestly, I thought KT was exaggerating when he described you. But now I see he wasn't. Cause you're breathtaking."

  Maxine, bowing to Yolanda's inconspicuous sneer, offered Angel her outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."

  Angel partook in the bland introduction then spoke to Yolanda. "He told me quite a few things about you too. If I may, some rather raunchy things."

  Yolanda jabbed KT's shoulder. "Do you have any shame? I can't believe you told her."

  "Yeah, I told my earth... And that's exactly what she is." KT affirmed. "And I keep her swimming in orgasms, so she couldn't be happier."

  “The only thing I'm swimming in is a pool." Angel quipped.

  Laughingly, Yolanda gave Angel a celebratory high-five. "Gurl, I'm telling you, when I first cut into him, you wouldn't believe how far off-key he was. His Cornish hen ass could barely find the hole. The Head was like a damn vacuum pump. Stroke was like a crack-smoking jackrabbit. I had to educate him."

  “And you did a wonderful job." Angel gazed upon the silent redhead and asked her. "Don't you think so, Maxine?"

  She shrugged.

  KT took the grocery bag from an Angel and gave it to Yolanda. He walked her back to her Chevy Camaro. "We broke it down the way you asked."

  "The open house party starts at 10 pm. You do remember where it is?"

  "Riverside Drive."

  Yolanda placed the bag inside her Chevy Camaro trunk. "Stop by, do the song and dance, then let me take it from there."

  KT followed Yolanda back to the women. He pressed against Angel's backside. His arms around her waist, he nibbled her neckline. "Everything I ever wanted in my queen, I found in this one."

  “Come on, KT, no woman has all the traits men looking for." Maxine refuted.

  "Let's start with beauty, good pussy, good conversation, and loyalty."

  Yolanda shot Maxine a piercing gaze. “The way he be talking about her, Angel destined to be wifey."

  KT interjected. “You jumping a big ass gun."

  Casual conversation subsiding, Yolanda pulled Angel into a lengthy hug. Whispering, she said. "Make sure he always put your orgasms first. Always make him feel needed. And even when you dead tired, if he horny, give him sex. The same goes for when you're horny. Men love when we strong-arm the dick." She cut an evil eye at the irritated Maxine and spoke a little louder. "That'll keep envious bitches at bay."

  “I'll remember that," Angel assured her. Wrapped in KT's arms, she watched both women return to the Chevy Camaro. Once the vehicle pulled out of the parking lot, she pried his arms apart. "You mind explaining what the hell that was all about."

  "In the car. That way, I have time to think of a lie." KT joked. He helped her into the passenger seat. Behind the wheel, he propelled his Oldsmobile Ciera out of the parking lot. Traveling along East Princess Anne Road, he asked her. "Now, what should I be explaining?"

  Angel fired off. "Start with that white bitch!"

  “Maxine, the redhead in the video me, Yolanda, and Honey reeducated. Me and Maxine used to sneak around behind Yolanda's back__.”

  “But she knew the whole time." Angel correctly finished. "What does that have to do with the bitch disliking me?"

  “After I told Maxine about me and you locking in, she asked me if I ever loved her."

  "And your answer was?"

  “I was honest. In some ways, I loved her, but it was mostly because of the freaky magic we made."

  Her arms folded, Angel eyed him intensely. "You better tell me what you two did."

  “Beautiful, if the web reeducation session doesn't give you an idea, what I tell you now won't either."

  “At some point, Maxine asked if you two could keep sneaking around. On me this tim
e."

  KT nodded. "When I told her I was serious about you, I could tell she was hurt."

  “When was the last time you two were together?"

  "Sexually?"

  “No spiritually!" An incensed Angel retorted.

  “Making the video and two hours or so after." KT gave her the gist of what took place because of Yolanda catching him & Maxine having sex in her living room. The digital camcorders and the punishment he was instructed to exact. "Sometime in the future, another video liable to surface. So, check the time stamp before you wig-out again."

  “That Maxine bitch better know you off-limits."

  "If she don't, your man still do. Ms. JUST a lil bit insecure."

  In approaching the East Princess Anne Road/Ingleside Road red traffic light intersection, KT pulled his vehicle into the right turning lane. Primed to pluck the agitation from Angel’s chin, he glanced into his rearview mirror. A slow cruising Honda Accord and its two steel-faced occupants awash him within an arctic chill.

  Angel snatched his right arm. "Did you hear what I said?"

  "Heard every word, now pipe down.” He lied.

  KT made a legal, right turn on red. Mid-turn, he veered back onto East Princess Anne Road. Through his rearview mirror, KT watched the Honda Accord rocket through the now green traffic light. Just as quickly, the sedan decelerated to the appropriate speed limit. KT continued driving amongst the sparse commuter traffic.

  Nervously, Angel asked. “Baby, what's going on?"

  “Use yo side view mirror. The gray Honda a few cars back creeping, and them stupid muthafuckas not even good at it."

  Angel, rummaging her handbag, retrieved her chrome, 32 caliber Smith & Wesson. She ejected the magazine clip then removed each bullet. Using her blouse, Angel wipes each one down. Magazine clip reloaded, she chambered a round. She gave KT surprisingly creative instructions.

  All he could do was look at her and smile. "You, so sexy, I forgot you, gangsta, too."

  "When you trick heavy hitters into showing you their cash then steal it, you learn to stay prepared for almost anything... Who do you think those men are?"

  “You tell me."

  “Insane Gangsta Crip."

  KT nodded. “Either IGC from outside the neighborhood or some other Crip sect they put down with an easy sting, long as they lay the victim down."

  “Why didn’t they just for you or Dynamo to come out of the trap crib?”

  KT shrugged. Inconspicuously preventing the Honda Accord from cutting into their distance, he drove into the midtown section of Norfolk. Leaving East Princess Anne Road, he made a right on the commercial Colley Avenue. Four cars later, the Honda Accord followed suit.

  Angel took off her blouse. Tossing it to KT, she slipped her jacket back on. "Make a left on 42nd Street."

  Finally, aware of the reasoning behind her instructions, he continued into the low-income Lamberts Point, Norfolk area. Shanty boarding room houses and condemned apartment buildings aligned the numbered intersecting streets. Streetwalking prostitutes were out & about.

  Fast approaching 42nd Street, KT gestured towards Angel’s seatbelt. "Put it on." He took possession of her gun. "Right before I hit the brakes, I want you to hug yourself. Whatever you do, don't grab the dashboard or brace yourself in any way whatsoever. Stay as loose as possible." From the vehicle armrest, he retrieved his cellphone.

  KT turning his Oldsmobile Ciera left onto 42nd Street, Angel was suddenly overwhelmed with uncertainty. "Baby, this might be a bad idea. Let’s just run."

  “We need answers, and this the only way to get em.”

  Blaring high beams suddenly filled their interior. KT, peering into his rearview mirror, spied the fast-approaching Honda Accord. He mashed the Oldsmobile Ciera accelerator. "When I hop out, hop in the driver seat. If I run off, get outta here."

  Angel snapped defiantly. "Baby, no way I'm leaving you!"

  “I'll call you and tell you where to scoop me up." The Honda Accord bearing down on his rear-end, KT yelled. "Hug yourself."

  “Baby, please don__.'

  “ANGEL, HUG YO FUCKING SELF!"

  His speedometer topping 70mph, KT slammed on the brake pedal. Brake pads screeching, rubber-burning, the tires clawed into the asphalt. He fought to keep the earth quaking Oldsmobile Ciera's steering wheel steady. A thunderous detonation ripped into the night. Fiberglass exploding, metal collapsed. Glass shards raining, tormented screams were quickly dissipated. The Honda Accord driver avoiding a rear-end collision with the Oldsmobile Ciera veered right. Slamming into a parked minivan.

  KT, quickly tying Angel's blouse around his face, leaped from behind the Oldsmobile Ciera steering wheel. He charged the wreckage. Using his silk shirt-covered right hand, he forced the crumbled Honda Accord driver door open and snatched the driver from behind the wheel.

  The driver was slammed onto the debris-littered asphalt. Disoriented, ribs cracked, sternum fractured. Through blood spewing, glass punctured eyes, the man gazed upon the blouse masked gunman. “Ple...homie?"

  “Why the fuck yawl coming at me!"

  “P... unc... had us looking for..." The badly injured man stuttered incoherently. Blood, saliva, and shattered teeth spilling from his eradicated gum-line, the man convulsed violently.

  KT backed away from the man when a strained caw resonated nearby. He peered into the wrecked sedan. The mortally wounded passenger raised a large, dark revolver. Trigger engaged; the weapon roared gloriously. Three shell casings bouncing against the asphalt, KT put three 32 caliber rounds into the would-be shooter's face. He put another three rounds into the blood-gurgling driver.

  KT leaped into the Oldsmobile Ciera passenger seat. To the distant wail of police sirens, Angel raced away from Lamberts Point, Norfolk's 42nd Street. Ten minutes later, she drove up to Norfolk's Grandby Street Bridge. At the apex, she brought the vehicle to a halt. KT quickly field stripped her handgun then threw it into the murky waters below.

  Angel, propelling the Oldsmobile Ciera down the bridge, said. "We need to ditch your car and report it stolen."

  KT replied. "That's the worst thing we can do."

  “Baby, the police should be looking for it any minute."

  “Chances are somebody gone give Poe-9 a vehicle description, but without a license number, there's a million black or dark color sedans in Norfolk alone. Even if they provide a make and model, it'll still be a needle in the haystack search.” He explained. "We report my car stolen so soon after the fact, I'm screaming I was involved. That's what Poe-9 be looking for, and dudes fall right into it. Then they wonder how Poe-9 ran down on them so quick.”

  Angel eyed him bewilderingly. “So, if we report your car stolen, the police will focus on you first."

  “We better off going about business as usual." KT studied the dark, fast-moving Grandby Street landscape. "Beautiful, soon as we get home, I need you to bleach the clothes I'm wearing and probably three more outfits.”

  “Why?”

  “Bleach kills gunpowder residue. Say Poe-9 do come after me and only find this outfit bleached and, in the trash, that's evidence. But if you bleach a few outfits and then throw em·all in a trash bin outside our neighborhood, if they do somehow find it, you a scorned lover." He explained. "After that, I need you to drop me off at Yolanda's open house party."

  There are two kinds of crimes; those committed

  by people who are caught and convicted,

  and those committed by people who are not

  -Dick Gregory 1972

  CHAPTER 15

  Kick him-he'll forgive you. Flatter him-

  he may or may not see through you.

  But ignore him, and he'll hate you

  -Idries Shah 1968

  Riverside Drive

  Ingleside, Norfolk

  11:30 pm later same night

  KT stood at the residential Wakefield Avenue/Riverside Drive intersection. He watched Angel propel her Pontiac Grand Prix into the lower-middle-class Ingleside, Norfolk night. Scanning th
e streetlight illumined darkness, the first thing KT noticed was a crème Lincoln Navigator amongst an assortment of parked vehicles. He just shook his head.

  He gazed upon the modest, ranch-style homes. His psyche heavy from earlier events, he made his way down the sidewalk. Approaching a brick, 2 family duplex home, bass-heavy music radiating from within gave off a positive vibe. He made his way inside Yolanda's rental property.

  The living room was filled with house partygoers and tart marijuana smoke. Few declined the opportunity to consume free blueberry Kush marijuana & alcohol. Greeting neighborhood acquaintances, he made sure he greeted several Insane Gangsta Crip gang members warmly.

  KT spied Dynamo enjoying the company of a thick, scantily clad brunet. He gave his friend a fist pound, then kissed Samantha on her cheek. Making his way into the kitchen, he found Honey behind the bar. "Double shot of yak."

  She filled the request. Gesturing towards an approaching figure, she replied. "You got company."

  A hoarse voice bellowed. "What's cracking loc?"

  KT tensed with recognition of the gang vernacular. He softened his stance as the neighborhood's Insane Gangsta Crip OG-loc approached. Partaking in a manly embrace, KT asked him. “What it look like?"

  Ski-Beau replied. "I know you tryna hunt down who threw them slugs at you and Dynamo. IGC has been at odds with some Blood slobs lately. Word is they might be behind it."

  KT pondered what was just said against Sea Breeze's impromptu appearance along Trice Terrace moments before the shooting. He was affiliated with the Bounty Hunter Bloods street gang. Also, Ski-Beau’s cousin. So why would Ski-Beau mention his deceased cousin’s gang? KT asked him. "How can you be certain it was them?"

  “IGC gone handle that for ya either way. We'll talk bout ya finally coming aboard after it’s done." Ski-Beau quickly replied.

  KT watched the brazen IGC OG-loc blend into the sea of partygoers. He took his double shot of cognac down in two gulps. He had his cup refilled, then made his way back into the living room/dancefloor. Finding Maxine dancing alone, he pulled the surprisingly reluctant redhead into his arms. "What I say about fighting me."

  “Let me go before YOUR woman finds out."