by Dorian Sykes
“Shit, that’s a bet. Two G’s off every brick. That’s more than love. Especially when them shits is already sold. I got an order for thirty right now, all in all. Plus, once the word hit—”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, baby. Remember the plan. We’re not dealing with everybody. We gon’ continue to fuck with JC, Squirt, and Gucci for right now. Let them get all the attention while we got the money. In a couple more flips, we gon’ take our show on the road and find us a few niggas in other major cities who gettin’ money. Take Offy’s fake Nigerian Mob boss ass down there and run the same script. It’s the only way we gon’ last, you feel me?”
“I got you, Nino Brown.” Willie laughed.
“Don’t compare me to that nigga. He turned out to be a rat in the end.”
“I’m just fuckin’ with you. But yeah, that’s a bet. Let’s get this money.”
Wink got quiet for a moment as he stared out the window at the snowbanks mounted toward the alley. “I take it you still haven’t come up with an answer to my question.”
“What’s that?” asked Willie.
“Whose team are you on, mine’s or Trey’s?”
“You still on that, Wink?”
“Yeah, I’m still on it, ’cause it’s real. My nigga, I need to know, ’cause I’m playin’ for keeps ’bout this paper.”
“Fuck it. I’m on yo’ side. There, you happy?”
“Nah, I’ll be happy when we’re sittin’ on millions and pushin’ a thousand bricks a month. But you answered my question. Willie, don’t ever cross me, you hear me?” Wink turned and looked Willie dead in the eyes with that stern killer look that lived in his father’s eyes. “Let no money, bitches, fame, jail, or nothin’ else ever come between us. We gon’ ride till the wheels fall off. When Krazy gets out, he gon’ be with us, and hopefully, Trey will come around. But for now, it’s us.”
Willie didn’t know where all this was coming from, ’cause he had never dreamed about crossing Wink or his crew in a million years. It was almost like Wink was lightweight threatening him.
Willie didn’t understand what his friend was going through with knowing that all his dad’s partners had ratted him out and got him two life sentences. The shit was really fucking with Wink, and it just made him view everything and everyone around him in another light.
“I’m with you, my nigga,” said Willie. He reached over and gave Wink some dap and a half hug.
Wink reached for the glove box and popped the trunk. “Leave five bricks and take the rest. I’ma send the other ones down to Ball.”
“Yeah, please do, ’cause his fat ass been blowin’ me up too. After I snatch this money up, I’ma shoot down there for a couple days.”
“A’ight, just hit me up so we can hurry up and get rid of the rest of them shits. We try’na cop and flip.”
Willie grabbed the door handle and said, “I’m on it. Just keep yo’ pager on.”
Wink watched as Willie unloaded forty-five kilos from his trunk into the back seat of his ’Lac. Willie climbed in his car and hit his horn, then pulled out of the parking lot. It was time to get down to business.
Wink pulled out behind Willie but went in the opposite direction on 7 Mile. He made a quick stop at African World beauty supply store and bought up a bunch of organic soaps and scented candles, then he shot over to UPS on Hoover Rd. Wink bought two mid-size boxes and packaged the five keys inside the boxes, two in one and three in the other. He lined the candles and soap around the sides of the box, then placed the kilos inside and covered the top with more bars of soap. Wink wrapped the boxes in tape right there in his trunk inside the UPS parking lot, then carried them inside the station and mailed them.
Wink called Ball on his car phone as he cruised down State Fair. “Yeah, I got something comin’ yo’ way, so be at the house on point.”
“A’ight, my nigga. I was starting to think the worst ’cause I ain’t heard from y’all,” said Ball.
“Nah, everything is in place. It’s two boxes instead of one. That should hold you for a minute.”
“I’m on my way to the crib now. I’ma hit you up when it touches down.”
“A’ight. One.” Wink put the phone back on the hook and closed the arm rest. He stretched out with one hand on the wheel and began doing the math in his head. He just gave Willie forty-five bricks at twenty thousand a piece. That was nine hundred thousand, plus the five bricks Ball had coming. That was another hundred fifty thousand, ’cause he was taxing his ass like the IRS at thirty thousand a key.
That’s a million and some change, Wink thought. Plus, he still had fifty slabs in the storage unit, not to mention the half ticket in the back seat.
“Two and a half million,” said Wink. That was his final total with everything. He owed Franko only five hundred thousand, ’cause he fronted him the kilos at five thousand each. Wink would be left with two million to the good and off just one flip. He was already making million-dollar plans, too. The first thing he was going to do was start paying for his work up front. That way he could demand a better deal and be able to cop more.
Wink decided he’d put up a hundred thousand dollars this go-around and see if Nina would give him at least 225 kilos. He would owe Franko a dime, and he’d have enough work to start working on his second plan, which was to branch out into other major cities. Wink could see it—the top wasn’t too far of a climb up. With Franko backing him, the sky was the limit.
Wink did as Nina told him. He drove out to the Sheridan Inn next to the Metro Airport in Romulus, Michigan. She had given him a room key inside the hotel before he got on the plane to go back to Detroit. Wink was to leave the five hundred thousand in the room inside the bathtub and call Nina once he made the drop. Nina would then send her goons to pick up the money and somehow, it would find its way back to Miami and eventually into one of Franko’s offshore accounts.
Wink made the drop. He left the duffle bag in the tub and locked the room up. Nina had explained to him during the training process that it was best for everyone involved to do business like that, so no one would have to worry about new faces. The operation was in place and had been working, so there was no need to change it.
The one thing Wink asked himself was if Franko was so smart, what was he doing in prison? Wink chalked it up to the same reason his dad was sitting in prison: trusting the wrong people. He was determined to learn from both their mistakes, and in the meantime, he was going to get filthy rich.
Wink drove down Trey’s street to find him posted on the hood of a brand-new fire engine red Benz tucked nicely on some chrome hammers. He had on a three-quarter length mink with the matching mink Dob hat and some blocks on his feet. The scene wouldn’t be complete without, of course, an entourage of niggas and hood rats to shine on. Trey wouldn’t have it no other way. It was dead winter, and here was this fool, out in the cold just for the sake of wanting to be seen and heard. Trey was so busy entertaining he hadn’t even seen Wink pull up and park.
“Look at this nigga,” Wink said to himself. He wasn’t about to get out and kick it amongst all the off-brand niggas hanging from Trey’s coat tail. Wink hit his horn twice, and Trey turned around with a huge grin on his face. He excused himself from his groupies and crossed the street.
“Tell Wink he ain’t gotta be actin’ all brand new on a bitch!” yelled Chante. “Actin’ like he too good to get out the car and whatnot.”
“You hear yo’ baby momma, nigga,” Trey teased as he climbed in the car.
“That bitch like two-week-old milk. She been expired,” snapped Wink. He pulled the neck shift down to drive and slid off.
“What’s up, doe? Where da fuck you been at?” Trey asked. He fired up a blunt.
“Shit, I should be asking you that. I see you dropped the new Benz. What you do with the Caddy?’
“I gave that shit to my little man, Lee-Mac.”
“Who the hell is Lee-Mac?”
“You don’t know him,” said Trey. He tried to pass Wink the blunt, but
he waved it off.
“If I don’t know the nigga, then neither do you. You out there with ya fan club, Trey. You don’t know none of them niggas for real. Niggas is grimy out here. I know you got ya little connect and whatnot, but that don’t mean stop thinkin’.”
“I got this, my nigga. What you need to do is get on the team and help me get this money.”
Wink laughed like, Yeah, right. “I’m straight, my dude. Believe me, I’m good.”
“Oh, so what? You too good to work up under me?” asked Trey. “You can’t stand me having the connect, can you?”
“Trey, that has nothin’ to do with it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I got my own connect. That’s what I was try’na tell you to hold up before you took all yo’ money out the pot. You jumped the gun, but I guess you wanted to do your own thing. It’s all good. All I’m saying, my nigga, is be careful out here, ’cause niggas playing for keeps.”
There was a long silence between them. Trey puffed on his blunt and stared blankly out his window at the passing traffic. Truth be told, both of them wanted to be the man, but neither would ever come out and say it. Growing up, that was how it was. They were always equals. So now, neither could see themselves as anything less.
Wink reached his hand over to Trey and held it out until Trey embraced him.
“My nigga, we gotta promise each other that no matter what’s out here in the streets, we can never let it come between us as family,” said Wink.
“Family,” said Trey.
Deep down, Wink had nothing but love for Trey, but he wasn’t about to play himself on the strength of a four-letter word. He loved his mother all his life and he saw what happened with her. Wink would play it fair with Trey on the strength of their history, but he’d feed his ass, just like everybody else, with a long spoon. He was certain Trey was sittin’ over there thinking the same thing and refusing to be rocked to sleep. They both wanted one thing—to be the man.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Armeeah wasn’t letting Wink out of the deal they made about him attending Jumah services with her. It was Friday, and every Muslim in the city of Detroit and Dearborn were closing up their places of business, heading for the mosque.
Armeeah left work early so she could pick Wink up at his apartment. When she got there, he was still asleep, stretched out across the sofa. He passed out the night before while counting up the money Willie had been dropping off.
Wink’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and then he came to at the sound of someone knocking on the front door. He sat up and looked at the money scattered about the coffee table. He had lost count. The knocking broke his train of thought.
“Who is it?” he asked, reaching for the 9 mm next to him.
“Armeeah.”
“One minute.” Wink tucked the gun into his waist, and then hurriedly stuffed the money into the gym bag Willie gave him. Wink rushed over to the closet and tossed the bag inside, then made sure his gun wasn’t bulging from his pants before opening the door.
“Morning, sunshine,” said Wink as he let Armeeah in.
She pecked him on the lips and then stopped in the living room. “It’s almost noon. Why aren’t you dressed?”
Wink flopped down on the sofa and stretched out. “Dressed for what?” he asked, turning on the TV.
“Today is Friday. Remember our deal for you to come with me to Jumah?”
Wink closed his eyes. “Damn, that’s right. Baby, can’t we go some other time? I’m still a little tired from last night.”
“No, a deal’s a deal, Wink. Now, come on and get up, ’cause I don’t want to be late.” Armeeah walked around the sofa and pulled Wink up by the arm. “Come on. Let’s take a shower. You have to be clean for the service,” said Armeeah. She pulled Wink down the hall toward the bathroom.
Wink was wide awake now. He stripped down to his boxers on the way to the bathroom. He heard Armeeah say “let’s take a shower” like she was getting in with him. His dick rocked up and was poking out the leg of his boxers just at the thought of seeing Armeeah naked.
Armeeah started a hot shower and set out a towel and wash cloth. “There, nice and hot. Five minutes, baby. We need to get going.”
Armeeah went to walk out the bathroom, but Wink grabbed her arm. “Where you going? I thought you were going to shower with me.” Wink was all geeked up, and Armeeah could see the lust in his eyes.
“If I were to get in with you, we’d definitely be late. Maybe when we get back.” Armeeah teased Wink on her way out the bathroom by letting her nails trail down his chest to his six pack. “Hurry up.” She smiled seductively, then closed the door.
She gon’ stop playin’ these games, Wink thought as he stepped out of the boxers and into the shower. He was so geeked up that he had to take a cold shower just to cool down.
When he finished his shower, he found his clothes set out on the bed. Armeeah had laid out a pair of black slacks and a crisp white button-up. Wink could hear her rummaging around in his walk-in closet. He took a seat at the edge of the bed and began rubbing lotion on his arms. Armeeah walked out the closet carrying a pair of black Gucci loafers.
“My mom stopped dressing me in grade school,” said Wink.
“Very funny.” She smiled. “I just want you to look nice for the service, and besides, my parents will be there.”
Don’t remind me, thought Wink. He had no desire to meet her father because he just seemed like an old, grumpy man who thought no man God created was good enough for his daughter.
“Here, let me do it.” Armeeah took the bottle of Jergens lotion from Wink. “Lay down on your back,” she ordered.
Wink stared up at the ceiling while Armeeah squirted the cold lotion across his chest, then massaged it deep into his pores. Her touch was so sensual and relaxing, Wink couldn’t help but close his eyes and pretend that he was back at the spa.
Wink thought to himself, Yeah, I can get used to this. He had never been with a woman who only cared about taking care of her man.
That’s all Armeeah wanted to do—take care of Wink and please him in any way that she could. She had him roll over to his stomach and lotioned his back, down his legs, and even hitting between his toes.
“All done,” she said, rubbing Wink’s back.
“Mmmm,” moaned Wink. He had drifted off to sleep. The massage felt so good.
“Get up, baby, and get dressed.” Armeeah kissed Wink on the neck, then stood up and left the room.
When Wink finished getting dressed, he walked out to the living room to find Armeeah in the kitchen at the stove. She had fixed him a quick cheese omelet with two link sausages and some wheat toast.
“I might as well move you on in,” said Wink. He wrapped his arms around Armeeah’s waist and kissed her neck while she emptied the skillet onto a plate.
“What you think about that?” he whispered in her ear. “Hmm.”
“I think my father would kill the both of us. Come on and eat your breakfast.”
Wink took a seat at the island on a stool. “I can’t blame the old man. If I had a daughter half as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t let her outta my sight neither.”
Armeeah blushed. “Eat your food. We don’t want to be late for the service.”
The only thing Wink didn’t like about their relationship was that they were still sneaking around, tippy-toeing around her garlic-breath father and whatnot. They always had to meet up somewhere, versus Wink picking Armeeah up at home like a real boyfriend. The shit was starting to irk Wink, and it had to stop soon!
Armeeah didn’t want to ride in the same car to the mosque because someone might see them. Her plan was to tell her parents that Wink was her classmate and she invited him to attend Jumah as a visitor.
The Al-Amin Mosque was situated right on the county line of Dearborn, Michigan. Wink pulled into the parking lot behind Armeeah and parked near the entrance, while she parked two rows over. Wink watched the traffic while he waited on Arme
eah to get out of her car. Arab men were ushering their families inside the mosque. Their wives wore full niqabs. The only thing visible were their eyes and hands. Even the little girls wore niqabs.
Just as two young boys playfully ran past the hood of Wink’s Caddy, Armeeah tapped on the driver-side window. Wink didn’t recognize her because she had slipped into her full black niqab while she was in the car.
“Come on. Service is about to start,” said Armeeah as she opened Wink’s door.
“Armeeah, am I going to be the only black man in here?” Wink asked as they approached the entrance of the mosque.
“You will be fine. If someone asks, just tell them you are visiting.”
That wasn’t answering Wink’s question, but then again, it was. There wasn’t a black face in sight but Wink’s. His stomach turned as he held the door open for Armeeah and walked in behind her. Armeeah gave greetings to a group of brothers standing in the foyer.
“Alaikum As-Salaam,” they all said in unison, but in a low tone. Their eyes locked on the back of Wink’s head.
Wink could hear them whispering something in Arabic. He didn’t speak the language, but he was certain they were talking about his black ass and what he was doing there.
How I let her talk me into this, I don’t know. Wink followed Armeeah inside the masjid. She led him over to the visitor section, which was completely empty.
“I have to go take wudu. I’ll see you after the service,” whispered Armeeah.
“You’re not going to sit with me?” Wink was already feeling extremely uncomfortable, being the only black person in the mosque. Now Armeeah was talking about leaving him all by himself.
Armeeah turned and pointed at the two rows of women seated behind the men on the prayer rug. “I have to sit amongst the community; otherwise, I would sit with you.” Armeeah sat Wink down and said, “I’ll explain it more later. I have to go.”