Kafisa noticed he was in a wife beater, basketball shorts, and a pair of Air Max. Judging by the way his muscles were bulging, Kafisa could tell he had worked out this morning.
“Nah. I’m good. I gotta go,” Kafisa replied, although she wanted to lie in bed next to him while he fed her breakfast, and let her worries disappear.
Jameel nodded. A grin appeared across his face. “It’s cool. I get it,” he said.
“Thanks.” Kafisa looked around until she located her truck keys on Jameel’s nightstand.
“So, when can I see you again?” Jameel asked.
Kafisa snatched up her keys and spun back around. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Kafisa looked him straight in the eyes, fighting her need for him.
Jameel lowered his eyes, and that famous smirk appeared. He knew Kafisa was serious and it would be useless to try to change her mind. He had already come to the realization that she was not the same girl he had known her to be back then. The fact that she was now in the South and was the talk of the entire Columbia, South Carolina, region spoke volumes to Jameel. He knew an opportunity when he saw one, and he was determined not to let it slip away.
“Not even for business purposes?” he shot back in a cool manner.
Kafisa wasn’t expecting that. His question made her believe Jameel had actually changed his perspective on who she really was. That was all she had wanted from the start—with a side order of sweetness.
“For business, you can hit me directly,” Kafisa offered before brushing past him. “I got you.” She turned and flashed Jameel a warm smile, then made her way out of his bedroom and down the steps to the entryway.
Once she had exited the house and got into her SUV, she took out her phone. She sent a group text to Halimah, Laverne, Nu-Nu, and Niecy. I’ll be there in a few. Afterward, she started the ignition to her truck, then peeled out of Jameel’s dirt driveway. Moments later, she was back on the interstate, headed back to her hotel.
Chapter Twenty-two
2014
Kafisa stepped into the three-bedroom house used for bagging up the work she and her crew put into the streets. She had literally gone down South and implemented her New York blueprint there and made it work. Each room in the railroad apartment was infested with different drugs. She had crack and coke in the living room and dope in the bedrooms. The bedrooms were sealed off from the rest of the apartment, and they had air humidifiers, plastic jumpsuits, rubber gloves, face masks, shock caps, and even disposable boot covers. The machines were basic packaging machines.
With Halimah, Laverne, Nu-Nu, and Niecy as manpower, Kafisa ran her operation like the Carter Building in New Jack City. She had zero tolerance for any workers getting hooked on drugs. Kafisa didn’t know any of the chicks Nu-Nu and Niecy had recruited, which meant she had no real connection to them and wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of them one way or another if they threatened what she and her team had managed to build in a short period of time.
Kafisa suited up and entered one of the bedrooms. She nodded her approval in the direction of the nude females who were rubber banding the bundles. The machines were producing ten thousand bags a day, and it still wasn’t enough. The operation had grown considerably during the first three months. Between dope, coke, and crack, they made a minimum of ninety thousand dollars a night. Kafisa and her squad were pulling in somewhere between one and a half and two million dollars in profit. Once Kafisa paid off her connect, she was still seeing high six figures.
But the money was nothing in comparison to what Kafisa had managed to rebuild. A week ago she was like a kid in a candy store when Francine sent word for her to meet her in Miami for lunch. During that lunch Francine told Kafisa that she had redeemed her family’s name and had become highly respected among the higher-ups as one of the top earners. Francine shared with Kafisa how her numbers were passed around the round table in monthly meetings.
Kafisa had never felt more like a boss than on that day. As far as she was concerned, she was that bitch in the South. She was sitting on top of the underworld. She was moving more product than she had ever dreamed of. Francine kept her flooded with kilos of cocaine and bricks of dope by the truckload, as promised, and so Kafisa was able to meet one of the key prerequisites of getting major paper: never running out of product. With a mean connect, she had climbed heights beyond her wildest imagination. If she were to tell it, Kafisa was officially the Nino Brown and Scarface all wrapped up into one in the South, and she carried herself as such.
Out of nowhere she called an emergency drill to see who was really on point. “Clean up and pack up,” she ordered, letting them know this was a wrap-up. Such drills were something she had learned from her father, and she had liked to spring them on her team when she was back home. Halimah and Laverne were used to it and acted speedily, but everybody else was slow as shit in Kafisa’s eyes. The whole process was done in under ten minutes. Kafisa was used to seeing it done in five. Still, she saw the potential they had and knew their response would get better and stronger as time went on.
“Y’all still gotta tighten up!” she blared.
Everybody in the room nodded in agreement. They had been practicing on their own to get faster, just in case of a raid, because no one wanted to go to jail.
Kafisa left the bedroom and removed her jumpsuit. She made her way into the back room, where she knew she would find Nu-Nu.
Nu-Nu’s back was turned when Kafisa entered her office. She stood in the doorway and watched as Nu-Nu wrapped a rubber band around the stack of bills she had in her hand, then toss the stack in the nearly filled duffel bag on her desk. She then picked up the remaining bills and began to count them. Kafisa didn’t bother to interrupt. She actually was a little turned on by the scene. Not by Nu-Nu, but by the fact that she was watching her money being counted.
“Nine hundred ninety-seven, nine hundred ninety-eight, nine hundred ninety-nine, thirty-five.” Nu-Nu slipped a rubber band around the last thousand-dollar stack of money and then placed the stack in the duffel bag.
“You finished?” Kafisa asked, stepping into the room.
Nu-Nu spun around. “Girl, you scared the hell outta me,” Nu-Nu confessed. Kafisa’s presence had caught her by surprise.
Kafisa noticed the .380 Nu-Nu had tucked in her waist. “Shouldn’t have your back turned to the door, anyway,” Kafisa reprimanded her jokingly.
“You right,” Nu-Nu agreed.
“So how much is it?” Kafisa pointed to the duffel bag.
“This is a hundred thirty-five thousand right here,” Nu-Nu replied. “And Niecy said she got another forty-five across town, where she trappin’ at tonight. So, I just took it out of my money and put it in there so I wouldn’t hold you up,” Nu-Nu added.
“I appreciate that, because I’m literally tired as shit.” Kafisa was grateful for Nu-Nu’s consideration.
“Don’t mention it,” Nu-Nu shot back. “I know how hard you be going. Shit, I’m tired too, but, like you say, the end justify the means,” Nu-Nu said, quoting Kafisa.
“Absolutely!” Kafisa smiled.
Money was flowing like a waterfall, even better than Kafisa had envisioned. The whole while they were locking the city down, they had managed to avoid any trouble with the Columbia PD. Nu-Nu had told Kafisa how even the haters were loving the product and were eating, so they had nothing to worry about as far as someone snitching on them was concerned. Kafisa was glad Nu-Nu had chosen to join her team.
Kafisa knew she couldn’t have mounted this operation so effectively and efficiently without Nu-Nu’s and Niecy’s experience and knowledge of the drug trade in the South. She was also glad that Nu-Nu had been able to put her personal feelings about her aside and focus on the bigger picture, getting bread. In just a short period of time, she had managed to show Nu-Nu more money than she had ever seen in the five years she had been hustling. Kafisa had kept her word and had made sure that Nu-Nu did not regret taking what she called a demotion for the greater good. She made su
re Nu-Nu and Niecy had the best and most consistent product around.
As an extra incentive, she had paid off the remainder of Nu-Nu’s student loans, had upgraded her 2013 Lexus to a 2015, and had put Niecy in the same model, only a different color. At first she had thought Nu-Nu and Niecy were going to butt heads with Halimah and Laverne, but that was far from the case. Instead, they had formed a sisterhood, one so strong that it was as if they had all grown up together. Kafisa was pleased about that, because their relationship showed in the numbers they were pulling in.
Since their arrival in South Carolina, Kafisa had tried to keep the lowest profile possible, while making sure Halimah and Laverne did the same. With the exception of the business they did with the small circle of people they had met through Nu-Nu and Niecy, Halimah and Laverne saw virtually no one. Kafisa was keeping them close to her until she found the proper places to base them out of. Kafisa had copped herself a double-wide trailer and one for Halimah and Laverne that was not too far from her. But it was not easy, especially since Halimah’s and Laverne’s buyers’ orders kept growing. Only Nu-Nu and Niecy had trap houses and steady areas they supplied. Before Kafisa knew it, she had four jumping houses, and they had the market cornered. Kafisa saw to it that they had the best prices for birds of raw coke and grams of raw dope within a fifty-mile radius, from east to west and north to south. They knew this because that was the distance some hustlers traveled from to cop their product.
With just Jameel’s purchase order of fifty keys of coke and ten keys of dope every week, Kafisa knew her product was hitting at least five other states, thanks to Jameel. Their trap houses were bringing in astronomical numbers, and they were bringing in cash like it was 1988 all over again. They were bubbling hard. Business was good, and Nu-Nu and Niecy were major forces behind it. She wondered where she would be if it were not for Francine becoming her plug, Jameel plugging her with Nu-Nu, and Nu-Nu and Niecy doing their hustle.
Back in New York, everything she had worked so hard for in the streets had been taken away from her in the blink of an eye because of one bad apple. Kafisa had had to learn the hard way what her father had meant when he said, “You’re only as strong as your weakest link.” Because of Jazz’s weakness, her entire empire had come crashing down right before her very eyes. Kafisa had also learned to appreciate the wisdom of another saying her father liked to repeat. “You’re only as strong as your connect.” It was because of her connections that Kafisa believed she had gotten to where she was in a short period of time. Just in time, she thought, as a special moment in her life seemed to be rapidly approaching.
“That’s wassup,” Kafisa said, congratulating Nu-Nu. She was really impressed with the fluid way in which Nu-Nu operated. “I’m planning a party for my thirtieth, which is in six months,” Kafisa then said. You could hear the excitement in her tone. “There’s a few things I’m trying to do and cop when it gets closer, so for the next few months, I want us to go dumb hard. That day I want everything to be perfect, and I want us shining harder than the sun. I already hollered at Limah and Verne, so you let Niecy know.” Kafisa smiled.
“I got you!” Nu-Nu nodded.
“That’s my girl.” A huge grin appeared on Kafisa’s face. “My shit gonna be the talk of the South,” she mused. “Nobody ever gonna forget my birthday.” Kafisa was filled with excitement.
“Why would they?” Nu-Nu said.
“That’s right. Why would they?” Kafisa agreed. “Okay, ma, let me get out of here and take my ass home.” Kafisa snatched up the duffel bag sitting on Nu-Nu’s desktop. The two exchanged hugs right before Kafisa exited the trap house and hopped in her Range Rover.
Just as she pulled off, her Bluetooth in her Range went off. When she saw the name of the unexpected caller appear on her dash’s monitor, she frowned. It had been so long since she had heard from him. The last time she had actually spoken to him was when she had reached out to inform him that she was relocating to the South. Kafisa let C-Dub’s call go to voice mail. Although it seemed as if she was ducking C-Dub’s call, Kafisa was just not in the mood to talk to anybody or hear about anything that was going on back home in Brooklyn or anywhere else up top. Her main focus, just like when she was in BK, was what she had going on now, and right now she was in the South. Kafisa’s voice mail alert went off. She saw that C-Dub had left a message.
Before she could check it, a text message from C-Dub came across her screen. Call me ASAP.
Kafisa rolled her eyes. “It can only be about some bullshit,” she cursed. She unlocked her screen and shot a quick text back, letting him know she was driving and would call him back when she reached her destination. She ended her text by asking C-Dub what was wrong.
His reply was, Just hit me.
Kafisa shook her head. Okay, she replied back, then pushed down on the gas pedal, accelerating fast.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Yeah.” Kafisa’s tone was dry.
C-Dub laughed. “I see the South hasn’t done anything for your attitude. I thought you country girls supposed to be Southern belles and hospitable and shit,” C-Dub joked.
Kafisa found no humor in his words. She was not feeling the small talk. She was ready to hear whatever bad news C-Dub intended to lay on her. She was irritated by the fact that C-Dub felt he had to warm her up for what he wanted to tell her.
“I’m not from the South. I’m from BK!” Kafisa shot back. “BK for life, remember?” She repeated the words they had both uttered the last time they spoke.
C-Dub laughed for a second time. “Easy, killa. What’s with the hostility?” he questioned. “I call bearing good news, and this is how I get treated?”
Kafisa’s eyes lit up at the mention of good news. She was not expecting to hear those words come out of C-Dub’s mouth. Her heart rate began to speed up. Is it over? Can I return to BK? Am I about to get back everything that was taken from me in my own hometown? So many thoughts raced through Kafisa’s mind.
“Good news? What good news?” Kafisa could hardly keep her composure.
“Let’s just say, that problem you had has been solved,” C-Dub offered.
“What do you mean?” Kafisa wanted to make sure she understood what C-Dub was saying. She didn’t think they were on the same page.
“Your girl Jazz,” he replied.
It took a few seconds for it to register. She was right. They were not on the same page. She had thought C-Dub was telling her that she, Halimah, and Laverne were in the clear. However, he was actually telling her that Jazz had been killed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Jazz to be dealt with. It just wasn’t the good news she was looking for. The longer she remained in the South, the less she thought about Brooklyn, but now C-Dub had her in deep thought about her old stomping grounds. Kafisa realized that she had missed her city, despite how successful she had become in the South.
“So it should be over, right?” Kafisa was hopeful.
“It’s not that simple,” C-Dub replied.
Kafisa let out a breath of hot air into her phone.
“You gotta be patient, Fee. Shit still fresh,” C-Dub told her.
“I know,” Kafisa agreed.
“In the meantime, in-between time, how you holdin’ up down there in the dirty dirty?” C-Dub asked in a joking manner.
Kafisa’s body tensed for a moment. She had never lied to C-Dub. She weighed the manner in which he had asked the question. It seems generic enough to answer generically, Kafisa thought to herself. “I’m good. We good down here,” Kafisa answered and left it at that.
“Cool. Cool. Good to hear,” C-Dub said. There was an awkward silence for a brief moment. “Well, you take care down there. It shouldn’t be too much longer,” C-Dub assured her. “No witness, no case,” he added.
“Hope so,” Kafisa cooed. “I’m ready to get back up top.”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” C-Dub remarked slyly.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kafisa wondered where that had come from.
There was only one person in the world she let call her baby girl, and C-Dub was not him. Hearing him say it rubbed her the wrong way. “My bad.” she said, apologizing. “Just homesick.” She downplayed her feelings. She was ready to get off the phone with C-Dub before she said something she couldn’t take back. “I’ve been runnin’ all day. I’ma take it down,” Kafisa told him.
“I understand. Get your rest,” C-Dub replied. “Give me a call if you ever need to talk,” he then said.
It had been a long time since he had extended such an invitation to Kafisa. She appreciated the offer. “Will do,” she replied before the two ended their call.
Kafisa made her way to her bathroom. She undressed and turned on the shower. She couldn’t help but play some of the tapes in her head of her and C-Dub’s conversation. For some reason, he’d been in a playful mood. Too playful for Kafisa’s own taste. Business must be good for him, she thought as she climbed into the shower. But business is good for me too, she reminded herself as she put her head under the showerhead.
Chapter Twenty-four
Six months later . . .
Kafisa, Halimah, Laverne, Nu-Nu, and Niecy stepped into the serene establishment five the hard way. They were greeted with a smile.
“Hello there. Welcome to the Southern Style Spa! What can we do for you today?” asked one of the women at the desk. Her partner handed everybody brochures listing the spa’s services.
Kafisa stared at the spa services menu. “This place came highly recommended,” she said. “We’re getting ready for a special occasion.”
“Why, thank you. My name is Daliah, and this is Sue,” said the woman who had greeted them. She smiled again. “What’s the occasion, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“My birthday.” Now it was Kafisa’s turn to smile.
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