by K Elliott
Fatboy’s door was still open. J-Black walked in and found him with his back turned, feeding fish in a huge in-wall aquarium. J-Black pulled the pump out and put it against Fatboy’s back. “Nigga, I will blow a hole in your back. Where is the goddamn money?”
Fatboy raised his arms.
“Put your arms down. I ain’t tell you to do shit.”
“What did I do to you, man?”
“Don’t say shit. Just sit on that chair over there by the fireplace.”
Fatboy complied.
“You see, nigga, you ain’t gotta do nothing wrong. It’s just the fact that niggas is hungry out here. You got it and I want it.”
“What do you want? Some money?”
J-Black stared at Fatboy. He could see the tears welling up in the man’s eyes. He’d seen that look so many times. He loved to see people in fear. “Damn right I want money. I want money, and I want dope. Where is the dope?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t sell dope.”
“You think I’m stupid? I know you ain’t got this mini mansion legitimately. Where is the muthafuckin dope?”
“I ain’t got no dope.”
J-Black walked over to the trembling man then placed the gun up to his temple. “You ain’t got no fuckin head if you keep lying. Now do you want to tell me where the fuckin dope is, or do you want me to scatter your brains out over this room?”
“In the kitchen ... The dope is in the kitchen.”
“Take me to the kitchen.”
In the kitchen, Fatboy reached underneath the sink and pulled out six kilos of coke and gave it to J-Black.
“Now this is more like it. Where is the money?”
“Upstairs.”
“Lead the way.”
Upstairs, Fatboy opened a small Sentry safe, located in the closet of his master bedroom, and dumped the money on the bed. “Twenty thousand dollars.”
“Nigga, is this all your bitch ass got?”
“Y-yeah, man, this is all I have.”
“I see your life don’t mean shit to you.” J-Black squinted his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I’mma kill your bitch ass unless you come up with some more dough.”
“Listen, man, I got jewels and watches and shit.”
“I want that and I want at least twenty thousand more dollars, or I’ll blow your fuckin brains out.”
Fatboy pulled opened a dresser and removed a jewelry box. “Here is a watch that’s worth forty thousand dollars. It’s my girl’s.”
J-Black snatched the watch then slapped him across the forehead with the butt of the gun. “Now lay the fuck down and close your eyes. If you open your eyes, I’m blasting on your punk ass. You understand me?”
“Yeah.”
***** When J-Black pulled into a Taco Bell parking lot, Twin was sitting behind the wheel of a blue Benz. J-Black grabbed the bricks from underneath the seat then jumped in the car with Twin.
“So what you looking like?” Twin asked.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? The nigga only had six bricks. You was talking like he was Noriega or somebody. I’ve had bigger licks than this.”
“So where is my three?”
J-Black squinted his eyes. “Nigga, it ain’t even going down like that. I’m giving you one brick. That’s all you getting.”
“That wasn’t the deal.”
“I don’t give a fuck about no deal. Do you know the nigga saw my face? I’m the one at risk, so I don’t give a fuck about no deal, you understand?”
“Black … that shit ain’t right, man.”
“Life ain’t right; you either take it or leave it.”
“Give it here. I’ll just know the next time that you ain’t gonna play fair.”
J-Black handed him the brick. “You just better hope I don’t ever get the notion to rob your bitch ass,” he said, then hopped out of the Benz, got into his work van, and drove off.
***** Twin’s phone rang and he picked it up on the first ring. The caller ID displayed Tommy Dupree. “Yeah what’s up, Fatboy?”
“I’ve been robbed, man.”
“You bullshittin,” Twin said.
“No, I’m not man. I’m serious. Some nigga came over here dressed like a home improvement guy and robbed me at gunpoint, and JoJo is over here now.”
“So what did he take from you?”
“He took product ... He took product and jewels and money.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, man. I remember the nigga’s face. I’m gonna send a team after him.”
Twin began feeling uneasy. “Hey, listen, I have to go. I have to go see Jennifer’s family about something.”
***** “Twin is acting all nonchalant, like he don’t give a fuck that I’ve been robbed.”
“He probably don’t give a fuck, as long as it wasn’t him,” JoJo said.
“If it had been him who got robbed, I would be at his house trying to find the muthafucka who did it.”
JoJo walked to the kitchen, grabbed a cranberry juice, then said, “See, that’s what your problem is. You always think he gives a fuck about you. Listen, man, just ‘cause you would do something for somebody don’t mean they would do the same for you, you know? Twin has been a grimy-ass nigga since we were kids.”
Nia entered the kitchen. “JoJo, I’ve been telling his ass this since day one, but he seems to think that people care about him. Twin ain’t your friend.”
“He damn sure ain’t.”
Fatboy made eye contact with Nia. “Would you let me and JoJo have some privacy, and stay in a woman’s place.”
Nia folded her arms. “That’s why you got robbed, nigga.”
“Fuck you! Get out of here.”
Nia burst through the double doors that led to the living room.
“Back to what I was saying. Twin grew up with us, but he ain’t your friend.”
Fatboy glanced at JoJo. “I just get a funny feeling about this whole incident.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know … Maybe like somebody told this guy who I was and where to find me.”
“You think it was Twin?”
“Naw, I don’t think Twin would do something like that. I really don’t.”
***** Jennifer was a little uneasy about going to the DEA’s office to meet with Agent Pratt, but she didn’t want to be charged with possession of ecstasy. She’d remembered one of her customers, Gino the Italian, who was busted for X and got twenty-five years with the state. Gino was a tough mobster type who could do time with no problem, but she wasn’t even trying to be tough. Hell, she was a girl.
Agent Pratt stood and greeted her when she entered his small office. “Good to see you, Jennifer.”
She smiled but didn’t say anything.
“So how was your day?”
“It’s just beginning.”
“Please have a seat.” Mark pulled a chair out for her.
Jennifer sat down and crossed her legs. “Do you have any water or something to drink?”
“Will bottled water work?”
“That will be fine. I’m just a little thirsty, that’s all.”
Mark left and Jennifer examined many pictures of him throughout the office. Most were pictures of him and an older man. Jennifer assumed that the man was Mark’s father. There were pictures of Mark at his college graduation and pictures of him playing little league baseball. It was obvious to Jennifer that Agent Pratt had come from a stable family, unlike many African-Americans she’d come in contact with.
Mark returned with the water, and Agent Ken Clarkson joined them. “Hello, Jennifer.”
“Him again.” He wondered what led her to be with a drug dealer.
“Jennifer … I’m your friend.” Ken smiled then grabbed a yellow legal pad from Mark’s file cabinet.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Ken pulled up a chair and sat beside her, legal pad resting on his lap. “Okay, Jennifer, let’s start with Twin.”
Jennifer took a deep breath.
“Jennifer, you don’t want to talk about Twin?”
“Well, Twin is my man.”
“You wanna get tried for that ecstasy? I’m telling you, the judges ain’t nice to cute little blonde white girls anymore, especially when it comes to ecstasy. Trust me, Jennifer, we can send you away for at least ten years.”
“Let me start with Tommy—he’s the Big Man.”
“Who the hell is he?”
“I think his name is Tommy Dupree. They call him Fatboy.”
Mark’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been investigating him for about two years.”
“Yeah, he’s the man,” Jennifer said. “He has the big house on the lake, Porsches, Benzes and shit...”
“So you work for Tommy?” Ken asked.
“No, I work for Twin.”
“Twin works for Tommy?”
“Not exactly. I mean, Tommy has the most money and the connection. Twin doesn’t work for him.”
“So it’s Twin, Tommy, and…who else in this little crew?”
“JoJo … Joe Ingram.”
Ken scribbled on the legal pad.
Mark stood and paced. “Do you think you could help us get some audio on Tommy or Twin? I’ve been trying to get him ever since we closed the book on Jamal Stewart.”
“Hell no. I’m not wearing a wire. Are you fuckin crazy? If Twin discovers me doing some shit like that he will kill me.”
“We will be near to make sure everything goes okay.”
“I’m not wearing a wire. That is final.”
“So you’d rather go to prison.”
“Yes, of course I would rather go to prison than get killed.” Jennifer stood. “I don’t know why I came in here in the first place. I should have gotten myself an attorney.”
“Jennifer, sit down. You don’t need an attorney, and you don’t have to wear a wire,” Ken said.
“What we need are the phone numbers of these people,” Mark added.
“Twin’s number is 555-0563.”
“Who is the service provider?”
“Nextel.”
“Twin’s real name is…?” Ken asked.
Jennifer hesitated. She thought about how good Twin had been to her. She thought about the diamonds, the furs, and the luxury cars that he’d bought her over the years. But then she thought about the ten years she would get for the ecstasy. “Brandon. Brandon Agurs.”
Chapter 5
Mark cupped one of Jennifer’s huge breasts then put the other in his mouth. He moved his tongue down her stomach, into her navel, between her inner thigh ... She bit down hard on his neck. His manhood was now throbbing, but before he could slide it inside her, he came.
Then he woke from his dream and looked down at his boxers. He couldn’t believe he was dreaming about a stripper. He sprang from his bed. It was three in the morning and he had semen in his boxers. In the next five minutes, he cleaned himself up and got back in the bed. He couldn’t sleep. Instead he thought about Jennifer, not in a sexual way, but he wondered what led her to be with a drug dealer, what made her take off her clothes for a living.
Why is she on ecstasy ? It was obvious the girl had problems, and he could tell she wasn’t a bad person but that she’d made some bad decisions in life. Mark wanted to help her but didn’t know why. Maybe because he was somewhat attracted to her. He told himself that he had to keep it on a professional level. After all, she was a crook, one of the bad guys.
***** Twin met Jennifer with a hug and they kissed passionately. He picked her up and carried her to the sofa where he unbuttoned her blouse.
“Stop.”
Twin looked confused. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Just that I wanted to talk to you first.”
Twin buttoned her blouse back up. “You look worried. What’s wrong?”
“You remember the girls that were in Miami with us? The one who you had me call the cops on?”
“Yeah.”
“They told the DEA about you and me.”
“How do you know that?”
Jennifer looked away briefly before resuming eye contact with Twin. “I had a little visit on my job. They know about the phone call that I made.”
“What did they ask you?”
“They asked me about you and JoJo and Tommy.”
“How the hell did they know about us?”
Again Jennifer looked away. “I don’t know.”
Twin grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Let me find out you’ve been ratting to the cops. I will kill you, white bitch. Do you understand me?”
“Daddy, I would never do anything to hurt you. They said they’ve been investigating Tommy for two years now.”
Twin was no longer in the mood for sex.
***** The crew decided to meet at Outback Steakhouse. Tommy was a little hesitant to meet with Twin at first. After all, he’d gotten robbed and Twin had acted as if he didn’t give a fuck about the whole incident. But when Twin had called, he said that it was important that they meet.
When they got to the restaurant, they were seated in a booth in the back. They all ordered Heinekens. Nobody wanted to eat.
“Okay, what is so important?” Tommy asked.
“Jennifer said the feds came to the club, and they were asking questions about us.”
Tommy sipped his beer. “How the fuck can the feds be asking questions about us to your girl. They don’t know we know your girl?”
“You know the two girls got busted, remember, coming from Miami.”
“Yeah, but those girls don’t know us,” JoJo said.
He’d made a good point. One Twin hadn’t thought about when he had spoken to Jennifer. He looked at Tommy. “She said the feds told her they been investigating you for a while. They probably got photos of all of us. I don’t know.”
“You sure your girl ain’t telling?” Tommy asked.
“Fuck you, Fatboy.”
“Fuck you, nigga!” Tommy said.
“Fat-ass nigga. I’ll hurt you.”
“And your mom will be making funeral arrangements,” Tommy smiled.
“That’s why your bitch ass got robbed,” Twin said as he pointed his finger at Tommy’s face.
“Y’all keep this shit quiet and cut the bickering. We all we got. Remember, we’ve known each other since the sandbox, so we gotta stick together,” JoJo said.
Twin huffed but offered Tommy his hand.
After a few seconds of contemplation, Tommy shook his hand.
“Okay. We need to change our phones and phone numbers,” Twin said.
“There’s a cat in the barbershop that comes around with hot phones; he can get them for us at a hundred dollars each,” JoJo said.
“Cool,” Tommy said.
“Are we all on the same page?” JoJo asked.
“I’m okay. I still don’t trust his bitch, though,” Tommy said.
Twin didn’t say anything. He just stared at Tommy.
***** Mark and Jennifer met at Dean & Deluca for coffee. She was looking incredible with a black tube dress and heels that revealed her freshly polished toes. Her blonde hair was flowing freely in the light morning breeze. She was unusually tan today—maybe from a tanning booth.
Mark found himself staring at her breasts.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“I don’t know…” He hesitated.
She crossed her legs then took a sip of her coffee.
“So, what’s new with the crew?”
“Nothing really.”
“They got new phones, right?”
“Yes.” She stirred her coffee then placed the little straw in her
mouth. She’d left traces of lipstick around it. “How’d you guess?” “The number you gave me has been disconnected. Happens
quite a bit with drug dealers. They get phones for a month, change numbers, phone companies, and everything. I imagine it must be a
horrible life
, always looking over your shoulder.”
Jennifer pulled out a pair of Channel sunglasses from her purse.
The sunglasses covered much of her face. “I guess you’re right.” “You don’t know, huh?”
“I mean, the life is like you’re living on the edge, but it has its
rewards.”
His eyebrows rose. “Rewards? What kind of rewards?” She held up her ring. “Five carats.”
“Impressive.” He sipped his bottled water.
“You think so?”
“Yes, I would have to save for two years to buy a ring like that.” “Two years!”
“Yes.”
“It would probably take me two as well.” She smiled.
“But Twin and the crew could buy it on sight, huh?” Mark said. “Let’s not talk about Twin.” She placed her index finger over his
mouth. “So, why do you do what you do? I know it’s not for the
money.”
“I want to make a difference—for the kids and the elderly.” “Twin, JoJo, and Tommy aren’t bad guys, you know?” “Most drug dealers aren’t.”
“So why do you want to lock people up and take them away from
their family? Now that must be a horrible life.”
“Not really. I take pride in my job.”
Jennifer looked at her watch. “Shit! I really have to be going now.” “So soon?”
“What was the purpose of this meeting, anyway? Why did you
want to see me?”
“Just wanted to see that pretty face.” He smiled.
“Really?”
“Yes. That … and to find out Twin’s new number.”
“Yes. That … and to find out Twin’s new number.”
555-0234,” she finally said.
“Thank you, Jennifer. I will call you later.” Mark scribbled the
number on a napkin.
*****
Nia had reserved a room at the Holiday Inn downtown. As soon as JoJo walked in the room at noon, she unzipped his pants and grabbed his penis. He didn’t resist. After he was aroused he picked her up and carried her to the bed. There he pulled her G-cut undies down with his teeth and trailed her belly with his tongue before tasting her wet vagina. She grabbed his head. “This pussy is yours.”
Moments later, he was pushing his penis in as far as it would go. “Yeah, muthafucka! I want you to fuck the shit out of me.” He turned her over on her stomach and plunged hard. He slapped