by Styles P
“I believe you’re right,” Jake said, still playing with his daughter. “But what if I didn’t call you? What were you gonna do? How long were you gonna wait around for?”
“Are you forgetting what I used to do?” M.B. asked. “I damn near had the key to the city. I would have found you one way or the other. And I didn’t expect you to call. I was there to get some insight of my own. I wanted to hook up with some old connects and see what I could find out. After I spoke to Phil and asked why he lied, and he wasn’t acting like a gentleman, I figured I needed to get to the bottom of a few things.”
As she was talking, M.B.’s house phone rang. “Hold on, Jake, let me get that. It’s probably my sister calling to let me know she got home safe.”
M.B. ran to the phone in the kitchen. “You thirsty or hungry? I can get you something while I’m in here.”
“Some juice, please,” Jake answered. Jake was looking around at M.B.’s house. It was crazy. He suspected she was living good but she was really sitting pretty. Her house could have been on “MTV Cribs.” She was only an hour and a half from the hood, but Jake had never heard of this place. It was like they were somewhere people go to hide.
“You want lemonade, OJ, or cranberry juice?” M.B. asked from the kitchen.
“Whatever; it don’t matter,” he answered. Jake made a mental note that there was a phone in the room he was in and M.B. could have picked up that one to take the call, but she didn’t. Then he told himself that he shouldn’t be so paranoid. When she came back in the room she had a weird look on her face. Jake noticed. He passed it off as him being paranoid.
“Here you go! I mixed the OJ with the cranberry.”
“Thanks,” Jake said. “M.B., this house is extremely nice. You have great taste.”
As he was talking, someone knocked on the front door. By the look on M.B.’s face, Jake knew something was wrong. He handed Jocelyn to M.B. and grabbed the .38.
“No, no! It’s not like that,” M.B. said. “You can put that away. Please put it away!”
“What’s going on?” Jake asked.
“I think it’s my boyfriend.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about him?” Jake asked. “You forgot or didn’t consider this would happen. I’m not feeling this!” Something just didn’t feel right.
“Listen, Jake, I told him I was leaving town and I would call him when I got back. I don’t know what made him come by.”
Jake looked M.B. in the eyes and said, “Listen to me! I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of people trying to kill me and I’m tired of being double-crossed. Now I’m not sure if you’re trying to pull a fast one. I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt because I don’t think you’re stupid enough to try something with this beautiful baby girl around.”
“I’m gonna go upstairs and put Jocelyn in her crib. Then I’m going to the front door and tell him to leave and I don’t appreciate him coming over without calling first. I’m a grown woman with a child and he needs to respect my space,” M.B. said.
“A’ight,” Jake said. “You do just that and I’ll be standing right behind the door. If that don’t work out and something funny happens, he gets it. Then you get it and I leave with my baby.”
“Jake, I’m not lying to you!”
Jake replied, “I hope for your sake you’re not.”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. M.B. and Jake looked at the door. “Go put Jocelyn upstairs and come back down and get rid of him.” Jake was starting to get a really bad feeling. He didn’t want anything bad to happen, especially to his daughter.
M.B. came back down the steps halfway with a terrified look on her face. With her cellphone to her ear and a nine millimeter in each hand, she waved for Jake to come to her. She was frantic and said in a whisper, “There’s four of them out there. One at the door and three around the house. It’s not my boyfriend. I don’t know what the fuck is going on but I don’t like it! I called nine-one-one already.”
The guy who was knocking at the front got tired of that and attempted to kick the door open. Jake had had enough. He wasn’t waiting around to be killed. He told M.B.: “Go upstairs to Jocelyn.” He took one of her two guns and walked to the door with plans to let off two shots. The guy behind the door beat him to the punch and let off four through the door. All of them nearly missing Jake’s head, causing him to hit the floor. M.B. didn’t waste time and returned fire through the door. Then she ran upstairs.
Jake was in a trance. He felt stupid for even going with M.B. Why would he go in the vicinity of his child knowing that death was chasing him around? Nine-One was dead and so was Kim. The thoughts of his dead peeps made Jake say, “Fuck it!” He got off the floor, and since whoever it was didn’t shoot back after M.B. shot through the door, he opened it and stepped out with two guns up. One pointed to the right, the other the left. He saw no one. He ran around the sides of the house and the back and didn’t see a soul. Jake ran back to the front. He made sure to not catch one coming through the door so he yelled out: “M.B., it’s me coming in,” and went inside. “They’re gone!” he told her.
Jake knew at that moment he would never be able to have peace of mind. His only options were to kill or die. The events that had recently taken place in his life were getting to him.
“M.B., I’m sorry I called you and got you in this mess! I know you was trying to hold me down and help me out but you know as well as I do this shit that’s happening is crazy! Phil has to die and whoever Phat Murphy’s fam is has to die also, or I have to die. But somebody’s gotta go!”
M.B. responded as honestly as she could. “If you go back again you might not be as lucky as you were last time. But if you don’t kill them they’re gonna kill you.” M.B.’s phone started ringing. “It’s probably the police!” She picked up and terror enveloped her face as if the devil was on the other end.
Who is it? Jake wondered. The voice on the other end asked her: “Were you scared? Did you fear for your life? If you and that bastard baby wanna live get the fuck away from Jake!”
M.B. screamed: “Who the fuck are you and why the fuck would you do that, you sick motherfucker?” The man told M.B.: “Shut the fuck up and just tell Jake to come home or next time things won’t be so nice. Matter of fact, pass the phone to him you fucking cunt!”
M.B. said, “Here,” to Jake and handed him the receiver.
“Who this?” Jake asked after taking the phone and putting it to his ear.
The voice said, “It’s me. I wrote you twice when you were in jail. I never got to carve you up, though, due to the fact you got put in that coma. But now that you’re up and at ’em again, I figured I would pay you a visit. I’m surprised you’re still alive. You have to stop running to your girls for help. That’s not a good look for you!”
“Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want with me, you fucking pussy! First you write me letters in jail like a bitch and now you’re calling on the phone like it’s a joke! Why didn’t you come through the door, you fucking dick? I would have murdered you!”
The man on the other end of the phone, in a sincere voice, asked, “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re a fucking joke! Only reason I didn’t come through that door is because I didn’t want to kill that pretty young lady and her daughter. Plus I was just letting you know I’m back! You already have enough enemies! But I’m the one that’s going to finish you off.”
Then the mystery man hung up. Jake looked at M.B. and said, “This shit is unbelievable!”
“Who is that and why does he want you dead?” M.B. was frightened.
“I don’t know the answer to either question. All I know is that he wrote me letters in jail on how he was going to get me, but other than that I don’t have a clue! I was thinking it had to be Phat Murphy’s brother ’cause Kim put me up on the fact that he wants me dead, also, but that don’t make sense ’cause the only people who know about that is me, you, and Phil!”
At the moment he said it, the lig
htbulb went off in his head. He pointed his gun at M.B. and said, “Put your hands where I can see them,” with the voice of a drill sergeant in the military. M.B, understanding just how real it was, did exactly as she was told. “You don’t even have a boyfriend, do you?” Jake asked as he took the gun from her.
“No, I don’t,” she answered.
“Who was that you was on the phone with in the kitchen? Please don’t make me get nasty with you, M.B.! Please! I need the answers and if anyone has them, it’s you. There’s some things I want to know and you’re gonna tell me.”
“Listen,” she told him. “I have been honest with you until the moment I got in this house and that phone rang. When I picked up they told me they were here and said if I didn’t set you up to stand in front of the door they was gonna do things to me and my baby that I couldn’t imagine. He asked me whose life was more important to me, the baby’s or yours, and I only had a few moments to think about it. When I saw the guys on the monitors I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I was too scared.”
Jake could hear the sincerity in M.B.’s voice and stopped pointing the gun at her. He sat in the chair. He was defeated. There was no one left in the world he could trust.
“I’m so sorry, Jake!”
“Yeah,” he answered. “I hear you but I gotta go.”
Jake wanted to kiss his baby and get a good look at her in case he never saw her again. He had a good idea of what was going on. Not all the way, but he was smart enough to figure out that Phil had somehow got to Phat Murphy’s brother. He made it look like it was Jake who was responsible for his brother disappearing off the face of the earth and excluded himself. There was no way this guy would be that determined to kill me and not Phil, Jake thought. He still needed to figure out how Kim got involved and why his uncle would cross him like that.
After seeing his daughter for what might have been the last time, Jake told M.B. goodbye, grabbed his book bag and the keys to her rental car, and drove away.
GAMBLING MAN
Mitch’s gambling spot,
one day later
“All bets are down,” Mitch yelled out. He had the dice in his hand and Monster was housing. There was at least one hundred to two hundred thousand dollars circulating in the spot and he wanted all of it. “It ain’t my thing to gamble.” Mitch was talking shit as he was rolling the dice. “I only do this once in awhile but with that kinda money involved shhiittt! I wasn’t gonna pass up trimming y’all young boys’ pockets. Plus I got so much money, so many employees, so many bitches if y’all didn’t know I was one of the biggest bosses in the world, I figured I’d show you tonight! It amused me that y’all would even bring y’all money here to lose like that against a c-lowologist like myself tonight! How stupid can y’all motherfuckers be to go against leadership like this?”
He was laughing as he was talking and joking around with the younger gangsters. He was playing with them. Nothing they ain’t heard before. To them it was just dice talk, but in his mind and to himself he knew the shit he was talking was true. Reminiscing, he could remember the day the 300 Crew idea came about. It was like it had all just happened yesterday.
Kim and Mitch had been fucking around behind Jake’s back. Mitch felt bad that it was Jake’s girl he was fucking—he truly loved his nephew—but there was something about Kim he couldn’t resist, especially not when Jake seemed like he was trying to dead it all—get out of the hood and get away from Kim. Mitch could tell that Kim was the type of chick always hungry for more—more money and more power. She had girls boosting for her and had a couple others stripping. She owned a few properties and was still running the smoke hustle Jake put her on to years back. In Mitch’s eyes, she had taken full control of things while Jake kept a low profile in the store and chilling at their condo—avoiding the real motherfuckers.
The night Kim came to check on him, Mitch could tell she was serious about something. She walked in his gambling spot, lit a blunt, took a long pull, and walked up to Mitch and shotgunned the smoke down his throat. She sat him down on his sofa, threw her jacket on the floor (and her Prada bag on top of it), and lifted her long sundress off of her body, standing there completely naked. Kim straddled Mitch and shotgunned the rest of the blunt smoke down his throat. Mitch was usually on top of his game, but this had completely stunned him; he could barely move but to inhale and to lean into her, when Kim’s last shotgun turned into a long, passionate kiss. Damn, she tastes good, Mitch thought, as Kim pulled away, getting off his lap and walking over to her purse, reaching in for the two flasks inside.
Kim moved back to her spot on Mitch’s lap and took a big gulp out of one of the flasks. She grabbed Mitch by his cheeks gently, tilting his head back to give him her mouthful of liquor, following it up with another deep, slow kiss. She repeated each sip in this way until both flasks were empty. During this whole ordeal neither she nor Mitch said a word—not until after she’d pulled Mitch out of his pants and began to ride him.
“A man like you shouldn’t have to touch much. People should be doing things for you. I’m tired of just fucking you. I want more for both of us.”
“More? More like what? And what about your man?”
“Yeah, there’s Jake, but I ain’t thinking on that note right now. We can get around that. He too cool and content with whatever the fuck he doing—which is nothing much nowadays. I got plans, Mitch, and it involves a lot of bread.”
Money always made Mitch’s eyes light up a little brighter—and the yak in the flask or the sensation of Kim throbbing against his dick didn’t hurt, either.
Kim continued, “But I need a man like you behind me!” and she started to quicken her pace.
Mitch grabbed her waist, holding her still for a second—just a second so he could grasp what she was trying to say. “What you talking about, Kim?”
“Just listen, Mitch. I’m talking about taking over, taking over without getting dirty and without getting caught up. I’m talking about me and you and few other people getting together to make a real power move! Now shut up and let me finish.”
With that, Kim went back to riding Mitch hard and smooth until he exploded.
As they laid on the sofa, smoking that bomb after-sex blunt, Kim went on, “Mitch, I need you to shut down the spot one of these days so I can hold a private card game. And I need you to be my partner.”
———
The night for the private card game came and Mitch could remember how Kim shone among some of the area’s most powerful men—men like Phil Rosenberg, that crazy rich attorney who was known to be strong in the courts, and the Calvin brothers, who had a rep for being strong in whichever endeavors they chose to be in. Everyone knew you didn’t cross them boys if you didn’t want to be physically harmed—on top of that they were said to be related to Albert Murphy, the most connected man in the city. Albert Murphy’s name rang from the mayor’s office to every street corner. He was it—the don! Mitch couldn’t believe Kim had them all present. She even had CO Frazier there, the most respected CO from the jail.
Kim wasted no time laying out her purpose. She asked the room, “Do you guys know what it takes to win?”
Albert Murphy, most amused by the little black girl with the very big mouth, said, “Enlighten us, honey. What does it take?”
“One hundred percent offense. One hundred percent defense. And a game plan that’s one-hundred proof. Three hundred percent, gentlemen.”
Everyone nodded. The lady was on to something.
Kim continued, “The way I see it, everyone in this room is powerful, but Mr. Murphy, Mitch, and the Calvin brothers and myself? We have a lot to lose if we get caught up. Now Mr. Rosenburg and Mr. Frazier, you guys aren’t in risk of losing much—if anything—given your connections with the long arm of the law. But there is much to gain if we work together, pooling our resources, and distributing our risks. I have a pretty good hunch you guys are willing to be involved—in your line of work, you have to be a little crooked to be any kind of suc
cessful.”
As all the men chuckled at her joke, Kim continued to layout the plans for their new organization. Like an exec for a Fortune 500 company, she had it down to a tee: how everything would work if they put all of their powers together; how they could run their shit like a crew of phantom bosses, the kind you only hear about in myths, the ones you’re not sure really exist. Catching on, Mitch added, “Police can’t arrest the boss if the workers don’t know who’s employing them.”
Kim shot Mitch a smile, and winked at him. “Exactly. No one would expect all of us to be working as one. Not even the feds will know who to look for.”
The plan was so solid that no one in the room could resist. Phil thought it was amazing money. Mitch could see nothing but more money, and Kim’s ass on top of him as soon as the meeting was over. The Calvin brothers were with it, and Frazier was hungry to rake in the dough and have the reign over the jail that he knew he should have. Even Albert Murphy was convinced that Kim’s idea—the 300 Crew—was brilliant, even coming from a woman. “Hey, Mitch,” Albert said, “Go get a bottle of something nice—Louis XIII nice. It’s time to make a toast, to the 300 Crew!”
———
Mitch’s thoughts were interrupted by Monster. “C’mon Mitch! This a forty-five-thousand-dollar roll. They got the bank stopped. Bust them motherfuckers in the head.”
Mitch blew on the dice and said, “Get ’em bitches,” and rolled 6-6-6. “Yeah, I told you motherfuckers! Watch out now them bitches is baaad!”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Monster cheered his boss on. “That’s what I’m talking about! Ninety thousand in the bank. What they down?”
“I got it stopped,” a voice from the back of the crowd shouted. Mitch knew the voice as soon as he heard it.
“Who got it stopped?” Monster looked around.
“I do. I got it stopped,” Jake said patting his chest as he stepped to the front. Jake decided on his ride over that he was going to see his uncle and get to the bottom of this by hitting his gambling spot with a little plan to make his life a living hell. Mitch would pay for his betrayal. But he didn’t expect the place to be so packed.