by Beanie Sigel
The excruciating pain completely immobilized him. A pillowcase was thrown over his head. His hands and feet were securely bound. He was picked up and tossed into the rear of the Suburban by the two men who attacked him.
“Lock up the shop and take his car. Put it in your garage. I’ll be by to get it later,” the man instructed her. He, then, jumped into the SUV and pulled off.
The uncomfortable ride lasted less than twenty minutes. Quadir was rustled out of the SUV and carried into some type of confine. Once placed into a chair and tightly secured to it, Jihad and Shawn left him...
CHAPTER 16
The light winds caused snowflakes to dance through the air before landing. Mack drove around the city in his Jeep, enjoying the warmth his vehicle provided, despite the blustering temperature outside.
Turning down Sigel Street, he saw a kid bundled up in a black Northface coat, skully and Nike ACG boots. Even the frigid weather couldn’t deter him from manning the block and chasing his dream of reaching financial freedom by selling drugs.
The sight of him caused Mack to reflect back to his teenage years. He was the first person on the block hustling, and the last one to leave. While everyone was out partying and chasing women, he was on the block chasing money. That ambition played a pivotal role in him rising above the ranks.
As he drove nearer, the kid began to wave his hands in an attempt to get Mack’s attention. He recognized who the kid was and pulled over. The kid eagerly ran over to the driver’s side, and Mack lowered his window.
“Wassup, ole head?” the kid asked through nearly numb lips.
“Wassup, Keith? What you doin’ out here?”
“Shit, I gotta get this money. My stomach ain’t gon’ feed itself.”
“I can dig that.”
“You heard anything about the bawh, Reek?” Keith asked.
“It ain’t lookin’ too good right now. He’s still in the hospital, and in custody,” Mack informed him.
“Keepin’ it real, it ain’t been the same for me since he been gone. That nigga kept me with that work, and he was really gon’ bless me...then, that shit happened. It’s like my luck will never change for the better.”
“Stop believing in luck. Believe in taking advantage of opportunity once it presents itself. You wanna go for a ride?”
Keith’s eyes widened. “No question!” He didn’t hesitate at the chance to cruise the city with a hood star. He darted around the Jeep, jumped inside, and adjusted the seat.
“Roll something up for us.” Mack handed him a bag of high grade weed and a vanilla Blunt Wrap, before pulling off.
Mack drove around the city giving Keith much needed advice, which had become a rarity. Either the elders were reluctant to offer counsel, or the younger generation was unwilling to accept it. However, Keith appeared to absorb his words like a sponge.
During their conversation Mack was able to get a greater insight into Keith’s mindset. He respected the young man’s intellect and lack of naivety. He understood his hunger and eagerness to gain a greater position in the drug game.
Mack watched Keith grow up and he knew that Reek had him under his employ. He vaguely recalled a conversation when Reek told him he considered giving Keith an elevated position, but he wanted to be certain that Keith’s loyalty was absolute first. Mack’s phone rang, interrupting their discussion.
“Hello?”
“Wassup, Mack? I need to holla at you,” Shawn said.
“Is everything taken care of?” Mack asked.
“Nah. I only talked to one of them.”
“What the fuck you mean you only talked to one of them?” Mack’s voice had risen. “Do you understand how important this is to me?”
“Come on, man. You know...”
“Come on, my ass. Don’t fuckin’ call me again until you talked to the other one!” Mack ended the call and banged his hand against the steering wheel in frustration. “Bitch ass twins,” he mumbled to himself.
“Mack, I ain’t tryin’ to get in your business, but are you trying to get in touch with the twins from North Philly?” Keith asked.
He looked over at Keith, unsure of whether or not he should answer. “Why?”
“It ain’t nothin’ for me to get in touch with them niggas. I’m fuckin’ their little sister. And he used to front...” Keith paused, looking over at Mack, unsure if he should continue.
“Go ahead and finish what you were saying,” Mack demanded.
“He used to front me whatever I bought. But I only used to fuck with him when I couldn’t catch Reek. I wasn’t playin’ both sides of the fence.” Keith made sure to throw that last part in.
Maybe he was, or maybe he wasn’t dealing with Reek and the twins at the same time. At the moment, that wasn’t important. He had to make a decision as to if he should involve Keith in this situation. The bottom line was the button had been pushed. One of the twins had already been kidnapped and the clock was ticking. The other twin had to be captured within twenty-four hours or everything could go awry.
“How do you feel about the twins?” Mack asked.
“I don’t give a fuck about them niggas. They know I’m out here struggling, and they never offered to put me on. Ever since they got on some Take Over the City shit, they stopped frontin’ me work. And they want straight money. They don’t give a damn about how much paper I bring them. On some real shit, I’ve been plottin’ on getting them niggas.”
After a moment of driving in silence, Mack looked over at Keith and asked, “You ready to get this money with SP?”
“I’ve been ready. All you gotta do is give me the ball and watch what I do with it.”
“Aaight, here’s what I want you to do...”
Keith called the twin’s sister, Quianna, and convinced her that he wanted to spend the day with her. She gave him a little attitude because she hadn’t heard from him in nearly a week, but after a few choice words, she gave in.
He was given eight thousand dollars, then dropped off at Quianna’s place on Indiana Avenue. Keith approached her apartment and rang the doorbell. She opened the door dressed in a pair of gray, cotton, stretch shorts and a white T-shirt. Quianna was one size beyond thick, but her curvy figure remained intact. Keith couldn’t help but notice her semi-hard nipples pushing against her tight fitting T-shirt, as a smile appeared on her face.
“Watchu want?” she asked with a false attitude, standing at the door with her hands on her hips.
“I want you.” Keith answered.
She stepped to the side and he walked in. After removing his coat and getting comfortable, he rolled up a blunt and they smoked. It didn’t take long before they were high and horny. After a few minutes of foreplay and teasing each other, Quianna grabbed Keith by his hand and led him to her bedroom. They pleasured each other until they were both sexed out.
“Boo, I’m going to take a shower. You comin’?” Quianna asked.
“Shit, I can’t even move because of you. I’ll take one later.” He reached for his pants and removed a pack of Newports.
“Don’t smoke that in here. You know I hate the smell of cigarettes.”
“Aaight. I’m going in the living room.”
She left to wash up. Keith popped a cigarette into his mouth, slid on his boxers, grabbed a lighter, and then went into the living room. He removed a burn out cell phone from his coat, lit his cigarette, and then called Kahdeem.
“Hello?” Kahdeem answered.
“Wassup, bruh? This is Keith.”
“What’s going on?”
“I need to see you.”
“Aaight, give me a number.”
“Eight.”
“Eight what?” he asked skeptically.
“Eight stacks, my nigga.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m at Quianna’s crib. Come through.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” They hung up.
Keith then called Mack. “You got fifteen minutes. Make sure you’re ready.”
He turned his phone off, removing the large stack of money from his inside coat pocket. Never before had he held eight thousand dollars in his hands.
Some saw money as the root to evil. Keith saw it as a solution to his problems. Only if all the money he held was actually his. The cash had been given to him as a backup plan. He sat on the couch and thought about the possible direction his life could turn toward.
Quianna walked into the living room wearing nothing but a powder-blue thick cotton robe and matching house slippers. “Keith, where did you get all that money from?”
He quickly snapped out of his thoughts. “This is why you haven’t heard from me in a few days,” he lied. Keith stuffed the money back into his coat pocket. He had to come up with a way to keep Quianna busy for at least the next half hour. “Boo, I’m starving.”
“Whatchu want to eat?”
“I want some fried chicken wings, macaroni and cheese...and some mashed potatoes and gravy.”
“So, you just plan on fucking, eating and leaving?” Quianna crossed her arms across her full breasts.
Keith stood and walked up to her. His nose took in the sweet smell of green apple body wash that lingered on her skin after the shower. “Actually, I was thinking of making love to you throughout the night, and waking up in the morning with you in my arms.” His words instantly softened her.
“That sounds nice.” She blushed, revealing pretty, white teeth as she smiled, and then leaned in for a kiss that Keith was happy to give her. “Let me start preparing the food.” She reluctantly stepped back.
“Hurry up before I change my mind and eat you.” He smacked her on the butt. She giggled and turned to leave.
Keith rolled another blunt of weed and stood by the living room’s window, peeking out into the streets while smoking. Within ten minutes a white Audi Q7 parked against the curb in front of Quianna’s place. Keith’s heart began to race. Kahdeem was early. It was too soon for Jihad and Shawn to be in position.
If Kahdeem made it to his sister’s house, Keith would be forced to give him the money and the mission would have to be aborted. Kahdeem could not be kidnapped leaving his sister’s house after doing a deal with Keith. There was no question he’d be the main suspect.
Kahdeem got out of his Audi and Keith cursed to himself as fear of the plan unraveling set in. His eyes grew wide as he saw two men run up on Kahdeem with their guns drawn. One of the men took Kahdeem’s keys, the other pressed a gun to his chest, and forced him into the back seat of the Audi. The Audi pulled off with all three men inside.
Keith was spiked with adrenaline, watching the kidnapping take place. He scanned outside to see if there were any possible witnesses. The wintry streets were desolate. Confident that everything went smoothly, he walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.
“That chicken smells good, baby. How long before we eat?...”
CHAPTER 17
During the next two days, Keith continued with his regular routine. He was mindful not to do anything out of the norm to avoid any type of suspicion. Unsure of the twin’s fate, combined with not hearing from Mack, Keith became nervous because of his role in the kidnapping.
After washing up and getting dressed, he grabbed a sandwich bag containing fifty ten-dollar bags of crack, his 9 mm Rugar, and left his apartment. He secured the door. When he turned around, he stopped in his tracks, and locked eyes with Mack who sat in the passenger’s seat of Terry’s new Mercedes S550.
“Wassup, cannon? You gon’ get in, or you gon’ stand there and stare at me?” Mack asked.
A sly smile crept onto Keith’s face. He jumped in the back seat, happy to know Mack was safe. “Nigga, why you ain’t answer your phone?”
“I’ve been real busy, but I tried to call you this morning.”
Keith pulled out his phone and looked at it. “I ain’t even turn it on, yet.”
“Keith, I want you to meet my man, T-Lova.” Terry turned partially in his seat and gave Keith some dap.
“I heard a lot about you,” Terry said. “You wanna ride with us for a while?”
“Yeah, but I’m dirty. I got some work and my gun on me. Let me run back in my crib and put it up. Plus, I gotta get ya money, Mack.”
Keith got out of the car and rushed into his apartment. A few minutes later, he was back in the Mercedes. Terry pulled off. Keith tossed a brown paper bag over Mack’s shoulder. It fell on his lap. “That’s the eight stacks you gave me.”
Mack removed the money from the bag. “Are you sure it’s all here?”
“Yep,” Keith said proudly.
“If I count it, and it’s not all there, then what?”
“Then, I’m responsible for whatever’s missing.”
Mack twisted in his seat and handed the cash back to Keith. “That’s the right answer.”
“Huh?” Keith slowly extended his hand to accept the money, but his facial expression displayed confusion.
“When a soldier does wrong, he must be disciplined. When a solder does well, he must be rewarded. This is your reward.”
“Damn. Thanks, Mack.” Keith marveled at the money differently knowing that it now belonged to him. “How can I ever be disloyal to someone who wants me to do good?”
“Stay loyal to us and the sky’s the limit,” Terry added.
“It’s not every day that we allow someone in our circle,” Mack explained. “So, I think we should celebrate. You ready to spend some of that bread?”
“Hell no! I want to flip this bread. I never had this much money at one time before.”
Terry and Mack looked at each other and laughed. “As long as you do the right things, you may have some problems, but money won’t be one of them,” Terry assured Keith.
“I’ll tell you what, if you can blow those eight bands tonight, I’ll give you another eight bands in the morning,” Mack challenged. All Keith could do was smile. “Let’s go to King of Prussia Mall, then tear Atlantic City up tonight.”
“Shit, you just gave me an offer I can’t refuse. Let’s do it.” Keith sat back in the comfortable leather seat.
After everything they said settled in, he leaned forward. “Ya’ll know I’m only twenty, right?”
“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not going to be able to get in the clubs out there.”
Terry giggled. “When you’re with SP you have diplomatic immunity.” They eased into the mall’s huge parking lot, got out, and entered.
“We ain’t goin’ shopping for hoodies and boots, li’l nigga,” Mack joked. “You gotta be on your grown and sexy shit tonight.”
They strolled into Nieman Marcus and Keith ran around the department store like a puppy taken off the leash. Within ten minutes, he came back to Mack and Terry holding a Prada knit sweater and a pair of Polo cotton slacks.
He displayed the outfit that he had picked out, waiting for their approval. They simultaneously shook their heads in disdain.
“You goin’ to the gambling spot on 32nd and York wearing that?” Mack cracked.
“Put that shit back on the sale rack, and come with us. We gon’ get you right, young bawh,” Terry said.
They left the mall carrying bags containing tailored button down dress shirts and slacks by Giorgio Armani, Hugo Boss and Salvatore Ferrogamo. They chose different designer hard bottom shoes that matched their outfits.
As evening approached, Mack picked up the champagne tan Maserati Levante SUV, which was pre-ordered specifically for Dynasty Luxury Rentals, before they boarded the highway.
Once Atlantic City, New Jersey, became visible, Keith couldn’t contain his excitement. The young man was captivated by the larger than life casino hotels and beautiful bright lights that accompanied them. Never had he been afforded the opportunity to travel outside the State of Pennsylvania. He was inside the most luxurious vehicle he’d ever saw in his life, with more money than he’d ever had in his life. And he was in the company of two of the richest men he’d ever met. Mack and Terry had si
ngle-handedly changed his quality of living. In such a short period of time, they had become amongst the most important people to him.
“Oh, shit!” Keith blurted out. “That’s the Borgata Hotel and Casino right there!”
“You heard of that place before?” Mack asked.
“Damn right. That’s where all the stars go,” Keith shot back.
“Well, since we’re hood stars, then that’s where we need to be,” Terry suggested.
Mack navigated the Maserati into the parking lot. Once inside the grand hotel, Terry used one of his credit cards to rent three indulgent and expensive suites.
With bags in hand, they retreated to their quarters. Less than two hours later, the trio reunited at the hotel’s main lobby. People who crossed their path had little choice but to take notice of the impeccably dressed men. Their demeanor and attire cast an aura of prestige.
Keith was very perceptive. He quickly came to the understanding that he had to take control of his youthful energy and emulate the laid-back swagger of Mack and Terry. He remained in step with them as they strolled to the casino.
Their first stop was the blackjack table. They sat down and began to play, and the cards were not kind to them. In a short amount of time, Mack lost six thousand dollars in chips, Terry had lost a little over four thousand, and, Keith, who had been playing conservatively, was down nine hundred.
“This muthafucka is raping us.” Terry gave the evil eye to the dealer. “Let’s hit the craps table,” he suggested.
“Alright. This is my last hand.” Mack placed six thousand in chips on the table. The dealer dealt him two cards, a jack and a ten. Mack had twenty points. The dealer’s two cards was an eight and a seven. “Yeah!” Mack jumped to his feet with a confident smile. “I’m good. Hit yourself,” he instructed the dealer.
The dealer removed a card from the deck and expertly flipped it. The card was an ace. With only sixteen points, he was forced to hit himself again. Removing another card, he turned it over. The card was a five. The dealer now had twenty-one points. Mack’s smile vanished as he stared at the cards in disbelief. The dealer glanced at Mack, then swooped up his chips and the cards.