Finessed a Dope Boy's Heart

by Racquel Williams

  “You walkin’ around here lookin’ like don’t nobody love you, baby bro. That bitch ain’t help you get your shit together. Don’t want nobody else to have you, huh? I swear to Gawd, I’ll never understand bitches like that, rather have you lookin’ homeless, hopin’ the next bitch won’t see what’s underneath. Don’t she know bitches into upgrading niggas nowadays?”

  I looked down at my threads and had no idea what she was talkin’ about. I thought I’d done all right with my little shopping spree. I had to ball on a budget, seeing that more than half of my money was gone from the safe.

  “I mean, Mama spent some of the money that I had in my safe, so a nigga had to work with what he had,” I told her with a shrug.

  “Mama did what now? She ain’t need yo’ money, nigga. Where you get that shit from?” she asked me, looking like she was ready to square up with a nigga. I was confused as hell, tryin’a figure out what I had done wrong.

  “I just assumed—”

  “So, you got some money missing, and your first thought was that Mama took it? Did you ever think that your bitch took it, just like the bricks that she took outta that safe, saying that you told her ass to take it and sell it and split the money three ways, some on your books, some to Ma, and the rest to her.”

  “She said what now?” I asked, looking at my phone, wanting to call her ass and go the hell off.

  “Well, that shows that her ass was lying,” she said, shaking her head. “Like I didn’t already know that shit when we ain’t see a dime of that damn money.”

  I couldn’t explain how pissed I was with Shontelle’s ass right now. And it didn’t help that Mel had told me that he was the one who was putting money in her hands to put on my books. But let her ass tell it, she was bringing me money that she’d worked long and hard for. She was sacrificing for a nigga. I was starting to see the bitch as the snake that she was.

  “Don’t call that bitch. We ’bout to handle this business. Don’t give her ass no attention and move the fuck around. Sometimes, you make a bigger impact by not doin’ shit and lettin’ a bitch see what she missed out on by being a shady-ass ho.”

  I heard her talkin’, but that ain’t make me wanna beat this bitch’s ass any less. I hated that I’d fallen for her shit, but in reality, I had made her the savage bitch that she was, so I couldn’t blame her entirely for her actions. But that didn’t mean that I had to put up with the shit, either. We had both done our dirt, and that made us even. But at the same time, that shit was kinda sexy to a nigga. I had taken this naïve young-ass girl and turned her into a real savage. But even a savage had a degree of loyalty. I was conflicted, and I guess it showed all over my face because Toya popped her lips and rolled her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips, and her demeanor let me know that she didn’t have the patience for my bullshit. So, not wanting to get popped upside the head or cussed the hell out, I walked past her mean ass and out of the room.

  When I walked out the door, I was shocked to see a new car in the driveway. There was Mama’s old-ass Honda that she wouldn’t upgrade for shit. Then there was Toya’s loud pink-ass Dodge Charger. The last one was a blacked-out Expedition sitting on chrome rims that were blinding my ass in the sunlight.

  “Welcome home, li’l bro,” Toya said, and I looked at her like I knew she was fuckin’ lyin’ to a nigga. There was no way that this was my shit.

  “Dead assed?” I asked, so excited I felt like a little-ass nigga at Christmas.

  “Dead assed,” she said with a smile, holding the keys out for me.

  I snatched them bitches before she could change her mind and ran to that muthafucka, pushing the key fob to pop the locks. When I opened the door, that bitch was decked out on the inside and had that new car smell to it. I hopped in and looked around. It was all electronic everything in that bitch, and the sound system beat as soon as I turned the key in the ignition.

  Hopping back out, I ran to Toya and picked her ass up, spinning her around. She squealed for me to put her down, and I did, but only long enough to kiss her ass on the cheek. I didn’t know where she’d got the money from to get me this damn truck, but I planned to pay her back, and then some.

  “So, you gon’ drive around to handle this business, a’ight?” she instructed me. “If I gotta babysit that ass, I might as well do that shit in style.”

  I ran around the front of the truck and opened the door for her. She walked over and got in, a huge smile of accomplishment on her face. I loved her ass more than she would ever know. She was the one that taught me the game with the dope and the bitches. But she got out as soon as she’d made enough to start her clothing line, just like Jay. I wanted to do the same, but I had to get back up before I could do that shit, and I had to find something to invest my money in to clean all the cash that I made.

  “Where to first?” I asked, smiling, ready to put some miles on the dash of this bad bitch. It was fresh off the lot and ready to hit the road for a nigga.

  “To Jay’s, and then we gon’ get your damn hair cut and hit up Lenox.”

  “I ain’t got no money, sis,” I admitted, and the words left a sour-ass taste in my mouth on their way out.

  “Who said anything about all that?” she asked, looking at me like I’d offended her.

  “A’ight, I hear you,” I said, throwing up my hands in surrender at the stop sign at the top of our block. “Where you get the money for this shit?” I asked when she laughed at me because I was throwing in the towel. I wasn’t one to argue, so I changed the subject to something more pleasant.

  “Investments, bro. Stocks and bonds and shit,” she said, sounding like a real hood-ass businesswoman.

  “Damn, you gon’ have to teach me that shit,” I said, meaning it. I was a risk-taker and knew that stocks were a risky game. But it was also one that could pay off in real numbers. The kinda money that some niggas wouldn’t see in a lifetime of hustlin’.

  “Sure will. Anything to keep yo’ ass outta these streets,” she said, and her tone told me that she meant that shit. She ain’t want me to put my life and my freedom out there no more. That’s how I knew she loved a nigga. And in times like these, I was grateful to be loved.

  Pulling up to Jay’s shop, it was like he was expecting us or some shit. That’s when I realized that Toya had planned the whole day out for me, in real life. We walked in, and he dapped me up before leading us to the back of the shop. When we walked into his office, I had to say I was impressed. Looking at him in his coveralls, with oil and grease and shit all over them, I didn’t expect his shit to be laid out like it was.

  I walked over to the display case and couldn’t help but smile. He had all the model cars that we’d put together when we were younger in a glass case. I thought that was so damn dope. He’d always had a thing for cars and had turned that shit into a legit hustle. When I turned around, they were sitting and looking at me like they were waiting for me to sit my ass down. I made my way over to the seat that was beside Toya, and Jay leaned forward and placed his hands on his desk.

  “So, why ain’t you come to me to ask me to put you on, my nigga?” Jay asked, looking at me like I was trippin’ not to have thought of that shit.

  “Keepin’ shit a hunnid, Jay, man. I ain’t wanna fuck up what you got goin’ on.”

  “Fuck it up how?” he and Toya asked at the same time.

  “Man, I gotta get my money up and fast. I didn’t wanna bring no heat to your spot. Especially with you bein’ legit now.”

  “Do you hear this shit? I know I can’t be hearin’ this shit. Jay, you better talk some sense into this nigga before I knock some sense into his ass,” Toya said, jumping up out of her seat and standing over me. I could tell she was ready to bust me in my shit, and I could understand why. But what I didn’t get was why her ass was actin’ like she was all surprised.

  “I hear his ass, and I really think that the prison food altered his brain or some shit. Or, aye, maybe his ass like being locked the fuck up with them niggas. You must got y
ou a boyfriend you tryin’a get back to in there,” Jay said, and it was now my turn to jump up. That was some disrespectful shit to say. And this nigga knew that I was the furthest thing from fuckin’ gay. Not that there was shit wrong with the shit, because my sister was gay as hell. But that wasn’t my fuckin’ move.

  “Sit yo’ simple ass the fuck down,” Jay said, and the tone of his voice was one that I only heard when I knew he was about to take a life.

  “Man, nah. Why you say that disrespectful-ass shit, nigga?” I asked, still standing in defiance to his demand. He had me all the way fucked up.

  “So, you the only one in the room who can let dumb-ass shit come outta your mouth, huh?” he challenged, rising from his seat slowly. I could tell by the way that his fists were pressed into the top of the desk that he was just as pissed with my ass as Toya was. But I wasn’t paying her ass no mind. It was Jay that I had beef with because he’d flat-out called me a fag-ass nigga to my face.

  “Man, you ain’t have to say no shit like that, though,” was all I could think to say, because I was hip to what he was tryin’a do.

  “I’m over here tryin’a give yo’ ass a damn job, to keep your probation officer off ya ass. Ya sister done bought you a car and takin’ you shopping and shit. Ya mama lettin’ you stay in her shit ’cause you won’t listen to no-damn-body and ran right back to the bitch that put yo’ ass out in the streets less than a week after you got the fuck free. And you repay us by goin’ back to the same shit that got you hemmed up in the first fuckin’ place?” He called me on my shit. It hit me so hard about what he was saying that I had to sit my ass down. Nigga knocked the wind outta me with the truth.

  “It’s all I know, my nigga. All that I’m good at,” I admitted. My ass wasn’t good at school or sports or none of that other shit. But I was good with cookin’ up them damn drugs and hustlin’ my ass off. I’d climbed the ladder quick as hell and was on my way to the next level when I got popped.

  “Then learn something the fuck else, nigga. Lemme teach you ’bout these damn cars or how to run a legit business. Get ya fuckin’ GED or some certification in some shit. I know you ain’t sittin’ here tellin’ me that Shontelle got more hustle about herself than you do.”

  The sound of her name made my temples start to throb. That bitch had hustled with my fuckin’ money, so there wasn’t no comparison. I had never worked a day in my life. I made that work, work for my ass instead. Not that a nigga was lazy, but who the fuck worked hard when they didn’t have to?

  “That’s what the fuck I thought,” Jay said, taking my silence as confirmation that what he’d said had hit home. “Now, you gon’ fill out this paperwork. You gon’ be my apprentice. And you gon’ find a legit hustle. Or me and Toya here gon’ have to take you the fuck up off this earth,” he said, and I knew that he wasn’t making an idle threat. Sometimes, being loved was a pain in the ass. I wanted to be grateful, but I had just spent seven years being told what the fuck to do every minute. I’d be damned if I was gon’ take that shit now that I was free.

  But I would go with this shit for a li’l bit. At least, I would be able to stack my money back up so that I could buy back into the business that I loved—the business that had my heart and soul. And if they didn’t like it—well, by then, I wouldn’t give a fuck. I would be doin’ me.

  Chapter Ten

  Rasheem

  “Detective Blake, there’s someone here to see you,” I heard one of the rookies say, knocking on the open door of my office. My face lit up, hoping that it was Mika or at least Ky’Imani. None of the women in my life were speaking to me, and that shit would be a nigga’s wildest dream come true . . . if it wasn’t behind some shit that I’d done wrong.

  I had tried calling them all but didn’t get a callback. The one that fucked with me the most, though, was Mika. I had been by her office, but she made it her business to spend most of her days in the field, and they weren’t able to tell me where she was because of that confidentiality bullshit. I mean, we were on the same side, so I didn’t know what the issue was with telling me where my wife was. It was in moments like this that I realized little shit like her sending me her location when she was out in the field just so I would know where she was, was good. It was funny how you missed the shit that at one point got on your damned nerves before. All I could do was hope that she was missing a nigga the same way.

  She was about to have me staking out her ass. I didn’t know where she was staying, and the bitches in her office weren’t telling me shit. Not even my little mole, Joy, who would let me know if one of her parolees got outta hand and tried to holla at my wife. That was when I realized that she had told them what was goin’ on between us. That was when the shit became real. But I was tired of this shit now. It was time for my wife to bring her ass the fuck back home, and we work this shit out. She would just have to look stupid to all them bitches that she’d chosen to tell about our personal business. That was her fault. She knew better than to do that shit anyway.

  “May I come in?” a soft, sweet voice broke me out of my thoughts and brought me back to reality.

  I looked at the innocent-looking woman standing in the doorway of my office, holding a manila envelope. She was beautiful, and even though I was already in the doghouse for the bullshit that I’d been into, I still took note and wanted to play the hero to this damsel who was obviously in distress. Her eyes were wide, and she looked like she was ready to cry. I didn’t think anything of it because she didn’t look any different from any of the other young, beautiful women who walked into my office with evidence of foul play.

  “Yes, you may,” I said, standing up from my seat, waiting for her to come into my office.

  Instead, she broke down in tears, right there, in the middle of my door. I rushed to the rescue, helping her stand up from the crouched over position that she was in. I even tried to help by taking the envelope that she was holding out of her hand. She took a couple of deep breaths, then stood to her feet as she looked deep into my eyes.

  “Thank you so much, Detective . . .” she dragged out, waiting for me to introduce myself properly.

  “Blake. My name is Detective Rasheem Blake, beautiful,” I said with a proud smile. I wanted her to remember that name because if I had my way, she’d be screaming it at the top of her lungs later. With my whole roster not speaking to me, I decided to start drafting a new team.

  “Perfect,” she said, and I stared at her, finding it strange that she’d regained her composure so quickly. “Detective Rasheem Blake, you’ve been served.”

  She pointed at the envelope that I had so willingly taken from her hands. She didn’t even have to force the shit on me. I had to say that I’d seen my share of process servers do their jobs in my career, but this bitch was good. Damned good.

  She left my office with a giggle and left me standing there on stuck. I was too embarrassed to chase her ass through the station and didn’t want anyone to know that I had just been played like that. Instead, I walked back to my desk and dropped the folder on top of it. I didn’t want to open it because I had a bad feeling that I already knew what was on the inside of it.

  At first, I didn’t want to touch it at all, like it had a deadly snake inside of it or some shit. In reality, though, I knew that there was some kinda death in there, even if not a physical one. It was the death of my happily ever after. And even though I knew that the shit was coming, I thought that with a little time and space, maybe Mika would give me another chance.

  Finally, I sucked it the hell up and picked up the envelope. I flipped it over and over again on my desk, wondering how I had missed the signs that this may have been from Mika’s divorce lawyers, and on the back side, as plain as day, there was a stamp with the attorney’s contact information.

  If I hadn’t been thinking with my dick, I might not have missed the shit. But I was distracted, too easily for my chosen profession, honestly. And now, for the first time, I was embarrassed for the way I had been behaving. Yeah, it shou
ld’ve bothered me that I had failed my wife. But me failing at my job was more of an issue for me. Getting caught slipping in my marriage was ending in divorce. But being caught slipping on the job could end my entire existence.

  Opening the envelope, I pulled out the paperwork and started to read it. I’d expected her to ask for half of everything. That was what I’d hoped for, anyway, so that I could drag the shit out in court contesting the division of assets. That was the plan to buy me some time so that I could get her to change her mind. But as I read the paperwork, I saw that she didn’t want shit. Not even alimony like she’d claimed in our last argument. Not child support for Ky’Imani, even though she asked that I continue to pay our daughter’s tuition for any degrees that she wished to pursue, at any university that she chose to attend. Just like Mika, thinking of others before herself. If her ass had thought about my needs, we wouldn’t be in this damn situation in the first place, I thought bitterly, getting pissed off.

  I think the thing that was making me the angriest was the fact that my wife wasn’t asking for any of the things that we’d attained in the last fifteen years. Not even my last name. The only part of me that she seemed to want to keep was our daughter. And if that was what I had to bargain with, then I would fight for K’Imani with every fiber of my being. I knew she wouldn’t want to leave her mama to come live with me, but it wasn’t about that. It was about buying time for Mika to come to her senses. I mean, who the fuck walks away from fifteen years of being happily married—for the most part—because of a minor—well, a couple of minor, but she only knew about one—indiscretion?

  It just didn’t make sense to me. She was so loyal to me. I never would’a thought that she would leave me. There was no reason for her to want that. I mean, she had everything that she could ever want. And it wasn’t like she was religious, and my affair was against her beliefs or no shit like that. I was sitting there, trying to make sense of it, and I was coming up empty.