Ripped Dollars 2

by Raymond Francis

  “The bottom line is because of Lotta, this nigga took all of my cocaine. He woulda took my money too if I ain’t have sense enough to stash it in the ceiling. She’s your daughter and I need you to fix this!” forcefully exclaimed Marv, almost forgetting he was in a federal building flooded with law enforcement.

  “Fix it? How the fuck am I gonna fix something from inside here? These crackers are tryin’ to give me 20 years and all you worried about is your damn self!” countered Roc.

  “Look, Roc. Just put me with the connect. Tell them to front me a few birds and I’ll repay them when I get myself back on track,” suggested Marv.

  Marv figured that was the least Roc could do, since he was convinced Lotta was responsible for his current misfortune. However, Roc wasn’t feeling that idea at all. For one, his current situation didn’t really afford him the opportunity of trying to broker any type of cocaine transaction. Secondly, Roc wasn’t putting his name on the line with the Mexicans for Marv. Roc knew Marv was immature, irresponsible, and irrational. There was no way he could handle be fronted multiple kilos at a time like the Mexicans preferred to do it. Even with all the drugs that he had sold, Marv didn’t have but a few thousand to his name.

  “Look, that idea just ain’t gonna work,” explained Roc.

  “The only reason it ain’t gonna work is cause you don’t want it to. After all these years, you sayin’ you don’t trust me? You think I don’t know how to hustle? Is that what you’re saying?” responded Marv.

  Roc took a long deep breath. It was time for him to tell Marv something he had wanted to tell him for a long, long time.

  “Marv, you damn right I don’t trust you. You ain’t built to deal with the Mexicans. They don’t play no games. You fuck up money, you get high, and you run around with reckless bitches that are like half of your age! Putting you with them would be a disaster. Even if I could do it, I wouldn’t.”

  Hearing the truth hurt Marv badly. Even he had to admit some of it was probably true, but it did nothing to calm his anger. Roc was basically telling him he was an immature liar and to go fuck himself. Marv couldn’t take it anymore; he snapped!

  “You know what nigga? Fuck you! I hope these mothafucka’s give you 40 years! And you know what else? When I catch up to Lotta and her lil’ friend, both of them is dead! Believe that!” hollered Marv, ending the visit on a terrible note.

  *****

  Lotta and Tone had been posted up in the motel for the past three days, but they were far from being on a romantic vacation. Lotta couldn’t get over the fact that Tone had dragged her into some drama that had nothing to do with her, and she despised him for that. She had missed Tone for three whole years, but now that she was finally reunited with him it was nothing like she imagined. Tone’s actions had ruined the fantasy Lotta had about the day that they finally reconnected. The fact that he had actually gone as far as to put a gun to her was something Lotta was having trouble forgiving.

  “How could you put a gun to the head of someone you love?” she pondered.

  Lotta realized that Tone cared about money more than anything; her included. Dealing with that realization had Lotta truly heartbroken. She was so disappointed in Tone that for the nearly 72 hours they had been together since the robbery, she could hardly even look him in the eye. It was a terrible feeling to find out that everything you thought you knew about a person simply wasn’t true at all. As all the truths and dirty secrets were exposed and revealed, Lotta was realizing a lot of qualities in Tone that were not too cute. The man she had waited so long to completely give herself to wasn’t looking too attractive at all.

  To make matters worse, Lotta was piecing together the information Tone was reluctantly giving her about how the whole ordeal had come to be. She was realizing things that were hurting her even more.

  “So you sayin’ this bitch Neeta just put you onto a lick after one night of knowing her?” asked Lotta, as she pried Tone for details.

  “Yeah. That’s what I just told you,” mumbled Tone.

  “And what ya’ll do in that one night to have her being so generous to you, Tone? Tell me that.”

  Tone sighed; he really wasn’t trying to deal with Lotta’s line of questioning at the moment. Tone was more concerned with the next move he was going to make.

  “Matter of fact, don’t even answer that Tone cause I already know how you get down. You fucked her nasty cousin Chaunte’ back in the day and you fucked her too!” concluded Lotta.

  “Yo, you actin’ real immature Lotta,” was all Tone could manage to say before Lotta continued berating him.

  “Ugh, you irk me so much! You mess with the most ratchetest bitches in the world and expect me to just be some lil’ dumb jawn fawnin’ all over you. I ain’t even beat for you like that no more. All that shit you talked in them jail letters about wanting it to just be me and you was just a lie,” vented Lotta.

  “Well it ain’t like I knew where you was at Lotta! You rode my whole bid out with me and then the second I come home, you disappeared. What the fuck is up with that?” asked Tone.

  “My Daddy got indicted! They took everything. I ain’t have no phone, no car, nothin’! How selfish are you to think that I should be thinking about you during a time like that?”

  “Well how was I supposed to know that?” countered Tone, with some bass in his voice.

  Tone and Lotta were quickly coming to the conclusion that they weren’t the storybook, perfect couple that they thought they were. Being hemmed up in the same room together wasn’t helping the issue either. All the sexual emotion they had built up for each other over the past three years had gone out the window. Despite their feelings about each other though, they both had to admit that the other looked damn good.

  Lotta had grown up and also starting working out in order to keep herself in shape. Her chocolate skin was still butter-soft and her body was utterly ridiculous. With measurements of 36-26-44 she was comparable to the urban models in King and Smooth magazine. The little bit of baby fat she had on her only made her seem even cuter to Tone.

  Tone had been on a prison regimen of working out every day and only eating foods high in protein and low in carbs. He was cut before going to jail, but now he was downright ripped! He had trap muscles, biceps, and abs. The dark skin that covered his body had been preserved by the semi-smoke free confines of the prison, so his complexion was unblemished. Tone was definitely one them buls that Philly women to be with wanted so badly, they didn’t even mind sharing.

  However, good looks were just the icing on the cake in a relationship. It was what was in a person’s heart that mattered. At the end of the day, Lotta was realizing just how cold hearted Tone was. She always knew he was a stick-up kid, but now that she had a face to put to one of his victims, Tone’s occupation didn’t seem cool or acceptable at all. It was a complete turnoff for her.

  On the contrary, Tone was peeping that Lotta was spoiled as hell. Without access to the finer conveniences that she had become accustomed to in life, Lotta acted very bratty. In fact, she was on the borderlines of being another word that started with the letter B, but Tone had learned some patience in prison and was trying his best to accommodate Lotta. After all, the situation they were in was his fault. Nevertheless, Lotta’s constant nagging was working Tone’s last nerve. Tone loved hearing her voice over the prison telephone, but at the moment he couldn’t stand it!

  “How could you do all this without even having a plan, Tone? You was just gonna rob him and then stay in this cheap, dirty ass roach motel forever? I mean, really, what were you thinking?” Lotta boldly asked Tone.

  “I was tryin’ to get paid. I had to move quick,” simply said Tone, not wanting to admit that he hadn’t thought his scheme all the way through.

  “It’s 2013 and you’re still out here runnin’ in niggas houses with guns and stealing drugs from them. I mean, seriously, come on Tone! Wake up! Didn’t you learn anything when Amir died? You said when you came home you were going to change. Is this
the plan you got for your whole life? Let me know, cause if it is, I damn sure don’t want to be a part of it,” asked Lotta.

  Tone hated the way Lotta phrased her questions, but he had to admit that she had every right to ask them. He had made big promises to her about making better decisions when he got out of prison and becoming a better man. However, Tone hit the streets and abandoned that whole mentality quickly. He saw an opportunity to get some paper and went right back to his old ways. In turn, he was back in another bad situation once again.

  Tone had Lotta holed up in a dingy motel without knowing what his next step was. Lotta was scared to leave the room because she didn’t know who her uncle currently had in the streets looking for her. Tone had a rental car that would eventually be due back to Rent-N-Roll and the room he was renting was also obviously also costing him. Lotta’s patience was running out and the cash Tone had was also slowly dwindling. He had to make a move very quickly.

  *****

  Roc knew damn near everything about his stepbrother and ex-partner in crime Marv. He knew what he was capable of and what he wasn’t capable of. He also knew when Marv was serious and when he was just making idle threats. For these reasons, Roc was extremely worried about the last comments that Marv had made to him. Marv had threatened to kill Lotta, and Roc believed he was just crazy enough to do it! There was no way Roc could live with that, so he had to take matters into his own hands. Drastic times called for drastic measures, so Roc had gotten his lawyer to setup another meeting with the lead DEA agent.

  “Look Roc, one thing the DEA doesn’t do is play games and the other is waste time. With that said, you got about two minutes to tell me why I’m here today. And whatever you say, better be damn good,” said the lead agent.

  The agent was still angry over Roc’s insult the last time that they had met. He didn’t take too kindly to being belittled by an inmate. Roc’s lawyer had to literally beg the busy agent to take another meeting.

  “I’m ready to talk. I gotta make a deal. I don’t have any other option at this point,” cringed Roc, staring down at the table in shame.

  Roc was seriously ready to cooperate and become a government informant! It went against everything he stood for, but Roc knew that each day that he sat in prison his daughter’s life hung in the balance. Roc had to try and get a deal that granted him a bond that he could make so that he could touch the streets once again, even if it was only for a short amount of time. Roc had to get to Marv before he got to Lotta. It was a life or death matter. If that meant becoming a snitch, then so be it.

  “I apologize for my remarks in our last meeting and I am ready to work something out, sir,” Roc continued, forcing the words out of his mouth because they were so hard to say.

  The DEA agent laughed in Roc’s face. He got a kick out of embarrassing a broken man.

  “Nope. That deal we were going to offer you is off of the table. We will launch our own investigation and find out where the drugs are coming from. I’m outta here. Have a nice life, buddy,” said the agent as he turned and began walking away.

  Now the ball was in the agent’s court, and he realized it. He was acting like a dickhead on purpose, just because he could. This was the first federal indictment Roc had been a part of but the DEA agent did this for a living. He was experienced in dealing with criminals who were at the end of their ropes.

  “Wait. What if I can get the Mexicans who supply me to do a transaction on video?” blurted out Roc.

  Being locked up all day and night, Roc had nothing but time to think. He had come into his meeting with the DEA with a detailed plan. He knew that if he was willing to set the Mexicans up, as opposed to just signing a statement on them and pointing a finger at them in court, that he would have a better chance of getting a deal worked out. The proposal definitely piqued the lead agent’s interest, causing him to turn around and reconsider.

  “The Mexican cartels? Wow. Okay. Let’s talk,” said the agent with a devious smile.

  For the Feds, having a drug transaction on video would be the ultimate slam dunk case. That trumped wiretaps, raids, and every other technique that the Feds relied on. If Roc could prove that he could get the Mexican suppliers to meet him in a location with a hidden camera, the agent would be all for it. It had the potential of being one of the biggest cocaine busts in Philadelphia history, which would definitely translate to a pay raise somewhere down the line for the DEA agent. Just like hustlers, DEA agents, police and all branches of law enforcement were also motivated by money at the end of the day. After all, money is what makes the world go around!

  *****

  Just like he had promised to Roc, Marv was on a warpath with a taste for blood. One isolated incident can turn love to hate, and for Marv, the robbery had been that incident. He truly believed Lotta had set him up, and the fact that she had yet to contact him with an apology or an explanation had angered him even more. Joy looked on as Marv loaded up his Desert Eagle, which was a big-boy gun powerful enough to knock a person clear into the next week. Marv was getting prepared for the worst possible scenario; an all-out war!

  “I did a lot for that ungrateful little girl over the years and this is the mothafuckin’ thanks I get?” rhetorically said Marv, as he used a damp rag to polish off the husky firearm.

  “Are you really gonna shoot her?” asked Joy.

  Joy was terrified with all the drama that Marv was going through, but she still refused to leave his side during his tough time. Her own home life was crazy, and even though things were rough staying at Marv’s house, it was the best place for her to be.

  “Damn straight! And I hope I catch her with that nigga she was with so he can get it too!” said Marv.

  Joy shook her head in disbelief. She had never seen such a violent side to Marv in the short time that they had been dating.

  “But she’s your niece, Marv. I mean, I ain’t even know her that long, but she was cool. She cooked us biscuits and shit,” said Joy, with a shoulder shrug.

  “Family ain’t family no more,” said Marv.

  Almost as much as the robbery had hurt him, the statements that Roc had made at the jail had also gotten to Marv. After everything he had been through with Roc, Marv couldn’t believe that Roc didn’t have faith in him. Marv had always thought that Roc was his right hand man, but in actuality he was seeing that Roc only viewed him as a glorified flunky. Coming to that conclusion damaged Marv’s pride and ego totally beyond repair. He was out for not only revenge, but also to prove a point. Finding Lotta and Tone wouldn’t be an easy task, but Marv knew that sooner or later the streets would begin talking. When they did, he was going to be ready.

  One thing about the drug business was that drugs weren’t valuable unless they were sold. In other words, just having a half kilo of cocaine meant nothing; at some point, Tone was going to have to sell the work. There were many drug dealers in Philly, but the major ones all knew who each other were. They moved in the same underworld circles and all had the same contacts and connections in one way or another. Using that to his advantage, Marv put the word out that he had taken a loss. He let the streets know that he wanted revenge and advised that he had some cash for whoever could lead him to Tone or even Lotta. He may not have known what Tone looked like, but he a cell phone video of Lotta from the robbery that he could show people and he knew Tone was driving a burgundy Cadillac SRX with out of state plates. Eventually, Marv knew that he would get pointed in the right direction. It was just a matter of time.

  Chapter 9

  Tone had been moving so fast that he hadn’t even taken a moment to sit back and think clearly. Fortunately, being holed up in the room with Lotta provided him with that opportunity. She was forcing Tone to do some serious soul searching and make smarter decisions. He knew that he had to keep moving; just sitting still would drain his money and eventually have him back at square one. Tone was in too deep and had come too far for all of that to happen. After thinking critically, Tone had come up with a plan. It was a bold plan
, but it was a plan.

  “Look, I know I dragged you into some bullshit Lotta, but I’m gonna get everything straight. I swear,” started Tone.

  The sincerity in Tone’s voice had an effect on Lotta. She knew him well enough to know when he was bullshitting and when he really meant something. There was just something about that man that made her let her guard down every single time. Lotta knew that Tone did heinous things in the street, but she had to love him. Despite all the fuck ups, lies, and terrible decisions, Lotta had to love him.

  “Look Tone, I know I said some mean things to you since we been in this room, but it’s only cause I want better for you. I want you to change your life before it’s too late,” said Lotta.

  Tone understood what Lotta was saying. He had talked to plenty of people in prison doing 20 year bids that would have loved one more chance to do things differently. Here he was with that chance and he was wasting it. Tone knew that he had to turn things around, but at the current moment he had to get out of the awful situation that he was in. After that, he could work on making things right with Lotta, and with himself.

  “So I gotta plan that can fix this mess. Can you hear me out?” said Tone.

  Lotta focused on Tone; she was anxious to see what he had to say.

  “All I gotta do is go back to the hood and start selling this work I stole from your uncle. Right now, I only got a little bit of money left, but I want you to take this $200 and get you a bus ticket. I know this nigga I was locked up with who rents houses out down in South Carolina for cheap. Plus, he owes me a favor and he is a real nigga,” explained Tone.

  Lotta listened intently, realizing that Tone had really done some serious thinking. He jotted the man’s name down on a piece of scratch paper and passed it to Lotta, as well as the cash that he had just promised.

  “The dude is on Facebook and all that, so when you get out there all you gotta do is get to a computer or a phone and look him up. He will make sure you got a roof over your head, I promise you that,” said Tone.