Dope Girl 3

by Sa'id Salaam

  Samantha went home for the last week of summer to rub it in her parents faces. Her absence put everything on hold until she got back. Cameisha wasn’t going to sell Trigga the two keys until she processed them through Samantha’s process.

  She wanted to spring the surprise on them all at once but couldn’t track them all down at one time. Samantha wasn’t due back for a couple more days. Jackie talked Ralph into a trip to Savannah and no one ever knows where Dasia is. Luckily old faithful Aqua had time for her.

  “What’s up chica? Whoa!” Cameisha said when Aqua jumped in the passenger seat of her new C-class. As promised, Abdul-Qawwi put her in a used whip that looked new. Technically there was a note but in actuality it was paid for.

  “Look it! Look it!” Aqua cheered shoving a small plastic item at her.

  “Nuh uh! No!” Cameisha screamed at the positive pregnancy test. “I thought you were sprayed or neutered or some shit.”

  “I was, I am, I think? I took three of them and they all was positive. Steven’s dick is so big I think it be in my ovaries.” Aqua said like only Aqua can.

  “Ovaries huh?” Meisha repeated trying not to laugh. “Why is it wet?”

  “I had to pee on it, duh?” Aqua said shaking her head.

  “Eww” She screamed and tossed it on Aqua’s lap. She twisted up her face as she dug into her purse to retrieve a wet wipe. Once her hands were pee free she put the car in gear. They both waved to a waving Steve and pulled off.

  “So, what old Steve got to say about all this?”

  “Oh he said…” Aqua said sticking her chubby hand out to finish the answer.

  Cameisha took a look at the diamond solitaire set in white gold and lost it. The car swerved when she screamed. “Get the fuck outta here! Oh my god, married!”

  In the world they lived in girl’s had babies and baby daddies but did not get married. Back in the projects, you could count the married couples under 25 on one hand. Niggas would gladly knock you up, call you wifey even, but not actually wife you.

  “Yo that is so cool! Dang girl you ain’t gonna be able to keep hustling with us.” Cameisha realized. The thought of turning the car around crossed her mind since she really wouldn’t need the room at the house. She shook it off because husband or not she was family.

  “I know but Steve got an agent. They say he’s gonna get drafted in the first round. Whatever that means? You think I can be on that show Basketball Wives?” Aqua wondered.

  “I don’t see why not. Ain’t none of them actually married to basketball players either."

  “I got ten grand put up at the house but I’ma keep helping yall til I get big.” She offered.

  “Girl you already big!” Meisha laughed. “Nah yo. Go be wifey, we got this.”

  “Ok” Aqua agreed and placed a palm on her round belly. It wasn’t round from the baby yet, that was pizza, chicken, waffles, cake, doughnuts and Surf and Turf. Not to mention, she had Steven take her for Fat-Fat burgers once a week. At least someone from High bridge was going to have a happy ending, or not.

  ****

  Keith and Ricky waited for several minutes after watching Aqua leave with Cameisha. Since the man stayed behind, they assumed the work was still inside. Rickey was shaking like a leaf from fear. He was scared to pull the robbery but too scared to say no. After all his tough talk it was time to put up.

  “That nigga probably got a hundred keys up in there!” Keith growled, staring at the apartment like it did him wrong. “Let’s go get paid!”

  With no chance to back out now, Rickey had no choice but to follow Keith when he jumped out of the car. Their ski masks sat on top of their heads rolled up and each had a gun tucked in their jeans.

  “Shhh” Keith whispered and pulled a screw driver. They both rolled their masks down to conceal their faces. The flimsy lock gave no resistance and was easily by-passed.

  The men raised their weapons and rushed into the empty living room like a S.W.A.T. team. They scanned the area from behind the nines when they heard someone in the rear. An awful rendering of an old Brian McKnight tune emanated from the bathroom. They followed it and found Steven under the steamy water wailing away and masturbating.

  “Give it up!” Keith yelled as they both rushed in.

  Steven was so startled and quickly turned with his dick in his hand. The sheer size of it scared both robbers but Rickey more than Keith.

  “Gun!” Rickey yelled and squeezed off two rounds. The gun sounded like a cannon fire in the small room.

  The linebacker looked confused by all the activity. He frowned at the intruders then looked down at the two holes in his chest. When the burning sensation set in he got angry. Steven growled like an angry grizzly and stepped from the tub. As soon as his foot touched the tile floor, Keith fired two more rounds into his face. Steven fell back into the tub and died without even knowing why.

  “Fuck you shoot for? What if this nigga got a safe.” Keith lamented. “Come on!”

  Keith led Rickey into the bedroom to search for the dope. He sent him to the drawers while he checked the obvious spots. Most drug dealers keep a stash of something in a shoe box so that’s where he started. Since Steven really wasn’t a drug dealer there were no drugs to be found. He did come across ten grand in one of Aqua’s shoe boxes and slipped it into a pocket while Rickey rummaged through the drawers.

  “Look at this hit.” Rickey exclaimed holding up a pair of Aqua’s boy shorts. “No wonder that nigga dick was so big!”

  “Man ain’t shit in here?” Keith finally concluded. He scratched his head wondering why there were no scales, no bags, no nothing. Not a trace of drugs or drug dealing.

  Chapter 22

  Edwin Billanger, Jr. was smart, rich, black and a complete piece of shit. Being the son of the Mayor of Atlanta gave the spoiled brat far more money and power than he could handle. He had recently graduated at the bottom of his class in Atlanta University. That was only because none of the instructors wanted to be the one to fail him. They just gave him a passing grade to get him out of their hair and keep their jobs.

  Being the mayor’s son had its advantages. It got him a variety of good city jobs and he fucked up every time. He was passed around like a cheap whore until he landed at the water department. The manager owed daddy too many favors to fire him so he paid the idiot not to come to work.

  A 65K salary combined with weak morals and too much free time was a recipe for disaster. Once crack was stirred into the mix, that’s exactly what happened; disaster.

  Ed Jr. was a man and men like to get their dick sucked. Since he was far too irritating and irresponsible to keep a woman, prostitutes filled the void. At first it was expensive escorts with rules and a whole lot of shit they didn’t do. Finally, he turned to crack whore, they’ll do anything. Anything!

  “Let me take a blast first. I give way better head after I take a blast.” A little junkie he picked up assured him. The promise of way better head versus regular old head led him to agree. Again, men like head but way better head? Run it!

  Edwin watched in utter fascination as she put a flame to the straight shooter. It sizzled as she pulled and sparked the idiot’s curiosity. Both their eyes grew wide. Both held their breath like Olympic swimmers. Once she exhaled the hit she inhaled his dick.

  He leaned back and tired to enjoy the loud, sloppy blow job but the pipe she clutched held his attention. The junkie worked her head like a jack hammer to hurry up and get him off. That was crack whore life, the next trick, the next dick; the next cock, the next rock. A grunt, a spasm and a mouth full of cum signaled the end of the ride. Once he was done, she removed him from her mouth and reached for the door handle.

  “How much for that!” Edwin demanded like a person use to making demands. She had just rented her mouth to the man so surely the pipe was for sale.

  “My shooter?” She questioned the odd question. “Twenty bucks.”

  “Fine. I would also like to buy some of the rocks as well. This much.” He demanded han
ding over two hundred dollars.

  “Drive!” The addict demanded as she pointed out directions. The thought of taking the money and walking off crossed her mind but he had so much more she wanted to get that too. She pointed left, right, then right again, right into Westfield Apartments.

  “Give me twenty five for the 'hunned?” She asked J-bo who was the lone dealer in the trap. He nodded so she gave him one of the hundreds and put the other in her pocket. 15 of the nickel rocks went in the other pocket and she delivered the ten ‘twenties’ to Edwin. “Where can we go?” He asked eager to try out the little sizzling rocks. He had snorted enough cocaine in college to know that it was expensive and didn’t question.

  “Right, left." She said directing him to an off block that served as a mobile motel. The street was lined with parked cars with various sex acts being performed inside.

  Edwin gave her one of the rocks and studied carefully as she smoked it. As soon as she exhaled, he put her out and went home to the mayor’s mansion.

  “Edwin, I would like you…”

  “Not now mother.” He said, ignoring her and whatever she wanted. He rushed up to his room and locked the door.

  If a skinny crack whore could handle a whole rock, he figured he would need two. He might have gotten away with it if not for all the residue already in the pipe. Edwin put the flame to the pipe and pulled. The room sizzled as he pulled the first and last rock of his life. His heart rate doubled as he inhaled and tripled as he held it.

  Edwin actually heard a ‘pop’ when his heart exploded but wasn’t shit he could do about it because he was dead. He dropped on the spot with his eyes wide open. A puff of crack smoke came out of his nostrils along with his soul.

  ****

  “Yup, looks like another one.” The medical examiner sighed as he wrapped up the preliminary autopsy. “I’ll be able to tell you more once the tox screen comes back.”

  “A bunch of hoopla for a damn junkie.” Detective Walton spat with disdain. “Because he’s the mayor’s son he’s supposed to get special treatment?”

  “Just wait until the media gets wind of the cause of death. Cocaine poisoning by a synthetic mixture of…”

  “You gotta bury that. Who else knows about this?” The detective demanded hotly just short of pulling his gun.

  “No one. J. just me and Anna, my assistant.”The doctor stuttered shaken from the sudden outburst. Good thing he didn’t get a chance to tell him about two more people he suspected died at the hands of the poisoned product.

  “I won’t tell a soul.” Anna swore, crossing herself like Columbian Catholics do. She didn’t lie because she wasn’t going to tell a soul but she was going to tell a person.

  Anna Rosita Flores was the assistant medical examiner but she was also a relative of the Salazar clan. As soon as the detective left she called her Aunt Marisol. Not only did she report the news, she chipped a sample off the sample to do her own test. Cocaine has a DNA and she intended to be sure it wasn’t the Salazar dope killing people.

  Chapter 23

  “Oh my God!” Dasia wailed as she came rushing into the new house a day late. She ran over and slammed into a stoic Aqua and wrapped her arms around her. If Aqua smelled pussy on her breath, she didn’t say anything. In fact, she hadn’t said much since returning home to a crime scene.

  Both Cameisha and Jackie twisted their faces at the belated display of grief. Neither doubted it was sincere as those two had been friends since they were toddlers. They once kicked sand together in the project sandbox along with cigarette butts and empty crack vials. No, the remorse was genuine, just a day late.

  “Yo, where you been?” Meisha finally demanded. She obviously had gotten the message about the murder along with the address and directions to the new house so why no call back?

  “At the spot yo!” Dasia shot back defensively. It was a lie but it was better than the truth. The truth was she used her money to buy coke and she and Lisa spent yet another night of sex, drugs and rock and roll. “I left my phone at Li..um, Calvin’s house. Don’t worry though, I held that shit down. We did good. All the blow sold and all money accounted for."

  “Here you go sweetie.” Samantha sang as she breezed into the room like the breeze of fresh air that she was. In her hands was a saucer, on it a cup, in it teaming hot herbal tea. “This will help you sleep.”

  Aqua took the hot cup off the small plate with both hands like a toddler and took a gulp. She was so numb from the pain of death that she didn’t flinch from the scalding liquid.

  “Whoa!” Cameisha said and took the cup before she hurt herself. “Come on, let’s go to your room and lay down.”

  Cameisha helped her to her feet and upstairs. She winced from all of Steven’s paraphernalia in the room but Aqua didn’t seem to notice. It broke her heart to see her friend so close to happiness to have it snatched away so suddenly. Along with the sorrow was a simmering rage. She intended to make it her business to find out who did this. Fuck the why, because it didn’t matter. Whoever killed Steve was right behind him.

  “Yo this is dope!” Dasia exclaimed returning from her tour of the house just as Cameisha returned from putting Aqua to bed. She rushed over and gave Meisha a hug."I love my room! Thank you."

  “No problem.” Meisha said neither returning nor resisting the hug. “Yo Sam, what’s up with that?”

  “That is ready.” Samantha replied cheerfully bouncing and beaming with pride. She had been put to work the second she returned.

  The two kilos were now eight. That meant her 32 k investment was now worth a hundred and thirty six with Trigga. Trigga, it was time to see Trigga again.

  “Look Dasia, take a brick to the apartment but don’t go in it until I get there.” Cameisha directed. “The rest of yall let’s go make this quick sale.”

  ****

  Trigga saw Cameisha and Samantha pull up and tried his best not to smile. His best wasn’t good enough and out came the sunshine. It was his first time seeing her since they returned to the states and he missed her. This was his first time being in love and it confused him. Plus he was out of coke.

  Cameisha just said, ‘fuck it’ and cheesed widely when she saw him. She too didn’t quite understand the feelings she was feeling but what she did know was that it was all about Trigga.

  “Sup ladies?” Trigga smiled to both but only looked at one. He leaned in the passenger window and dropped a plastic bag holding thirty six thousand in cash. Just that quickly, she made her money back. The other six bricks represented pure profit.

  “Hey!” Samantha cheered so enthusiastically, a back flip and hand stand should have come with it.

  “Hey Trigga.” Meisha said slyly and pulled the door handle. Trigga pulled the door open then closed it once she was clear. Samantha immediately pulled off.

  “Don’t trust me yet?” Trigga asked of the usual security procedures in place. As usual, no drugs and money in the same place at the same time. Once money was confirmed then the sale would be completed.

  “Just business.” She smiled. Her vagina throbbed from being so close to him but that had nothing to do with business. Her vagina was a separate entity, personal, not business. “But yes, I trust you.”

  “That’s what’s up.” Trigga nodded and smiled again. He reached for her hand and she took it.

  Their fingers interlocked and they strolled into the park making small talk. A few minutes later, Cameisha’s cell phone vibrated. She smiled at the smiley face text that meant every penny was there. She shot another text with that same smiley face to Jackie. The couple turned around and headed back to the parking lot.

  “So what a nigga gotta take you out the country again to spend some time with you?” Trigga asked. He intended to be light hearted but the lust in his throat came through loud and clear.

  “No, matter fact, we can go to your house right now.” She shot back quickly. “I got this itch that needs scratching.”

  “My house?” Trigga laughed at the absurdity then frowned
for the same reason. “Can’t go to my spot.”

  “Why? You must live with some woman.” Meisha demanded. She felt her heart and breathing stop while she waited for the denial she needed. Luckily, it came quickly so she didn’t turn blue and die.

  “Hell nah!” Trigga insisted, coming to an abrupt halt. He grabbed her squarely by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “You my woman shawty! I just been staying with my people since I got out. I want you to meet my mama and dem but…”

  “Ok baby.” Meisha softened and smiled. She fully understood the embarrassment of a dysfunctional home. She couldn’t even imagine having company back home in Mississippi. Not as many times as she came home to find some man’s dick in her mother’s hand.

  “May be time for me to cop a spot.” Trigga added wistfully.

  “Mm hm, much as I be itching.” She purred, sealing the deal. She leaned in for a kiss but a car horn broke it up the second their tongues touched.

  “Get a room yo!” Jackie called from the parking lot. She had a smile on her face but wanted the two kilos of coke out the car as soon as possible. Riding around town with all that blow unnerved her. First she had to deliver the rest of the coke to the apartment. She was relieved to see that Dasia passed the test and hadn’t went in it. The rule was no dope at the house so it all went to the spot.

  “Where’s the big man and his girl?” Trigga asked curiously. Cameisha studied his face for any trace of deceit before answering with a half truth.

  “They had to fall back cuz some low life tried to rob them.” She spat full of hostility.

  “They straight?” Trigga asked full of concern. Again his reaction was studied and found to be sincere.

  “They don’t keep shit at the house. All they got was 10 racks my girl had put up for her baby.” Cameisha replied.