Soft: Cocaine Love Stories

by Styles, T.

  Bodie came out five minutes later, and I smelled crack in the air. I knew this nigga was gettin’ high.

  “What you want? I thought you was gone,” he said, leaning against the doorway.

  “Here,” I said, throwin’ the bag of dope at him. “I hit Milli. Now you ain’t got no reason to fuck wit’ Ginger.”

  He picked up the bag, opened it up, and smiled. “Damn, you really are feelin’ this broad, ain’t you?”

  “You got what you wanted. And just so you know, me and you ain’t got no more business.”

  “It’s like that?”

  I jumped in my car and rolled out.

  Ginger

  I banged heavily on Stevie’s weak-ass wooden door, stepped back, and waited for her to come out.

  “Bitch, you must be crazy knockin’ on my door like that!” Kids were inside her house everywhere runnin’ around, but I didn’t see Melissa.

  “So you fucked my man, Stevie? Is no dick off limits around you?”

  She laughed and said, “So he finally told your dumb ass, huh? I didn’t think he ever would.” She folded her arms against her chest.

  I frowned and said, “All of your kids, Stevie?”

  She laughed and I grew angrier.

  “Nicky knows those his kids too?”

  “What you think? Are you that stupid, Ginger?”

  “That’s why she wanted me to dump him? So y’all could have him?”

  She shrugged, and I felt flushed, embarrassed, and hurt; and then Melissa walked behind Stevie.

  “Get your little nosey ass in the house, Melli! That’s your problem now, always bein’ sneaky, listenin’ to people’s conversations and shit.” She slapped her so hard in the face that her skin turned red.

  She looked scared, like I was going to tell on her, but I wasn’t. I knew then that Stevie did not put her up to callin’ me, so who did?

  “You a stand-up fuckin’ mother.”

  “You should talk.” She laughed. “Where is your daughter again?”

  Silence.

  “So you had somethin’ to do with setting your own cousin up today?”

  “Settin’ my cousin up?” She laughed. “Bitch, we was settin’ you up! Nicky told me somebody told you. But whoever put you on to the robbery didn’t hear the conversation right. He was gonna come in that bitch and rob you. We got all our money back after we met up wit’ Treasure later.”

  “But she came to my house and acted like she was mad at me. Sayin’ Gerron may be involved.”

  “That was all in our plan to throw your ass off. We want your ass gone, Ginger. People keep tellin’ you that, but you don’t listen. And Milli set the whole shit up. The fight you got in with Trixy, the shit thrown through your window, and even the robbery. Everything is his doing.”

  Who had I been with all this time? Half of the shit he did to me, he didn’t have to do. He could’ve made me leave, but he kept makin’ it like it was my choice. I understood he supplied Kentland with drugs, but he made it like my presence here was all right.

  “Fuck Milli and fuck you and Nicky too,” I said, digging in my purse for my gun.

  I was about to commit murder for the third time in my life when I saw Stevie look behind me and smile. Trixy hit me with an iron baseball bat on my shoulders, and when I fell, she and Shonda kicked and punched me multiple times all over my body. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t.

  “Now what, bitch?” Trixy said. “I told you before the night was over you would see my ass again!”

  “You ain’t got so much mouth now!” Shonda said, kicking me in my stomach.

  “What are you doin’, Stevie?” Nicky said, rushing out of Stevie’s house. “Are you trippin’?” I saw my bracelet on her arm.

  As they continued to pummel my body, I was hopeful that Nicky was gonna put an end to this shit. If we were ever friends, this would prove it.

  “The bitch came over here startin’ shit!” Stevie said. “I ain’t ’bout to let her jump in my face.”

  Nicky looked at me with compassion in her eyes and said, “You know what you gotta do. We can’t have no more police ’round here.”

  Stevie smiled and said, “Y’all heard my cousin. Kill the bitch.”

  I felt a strike to the head, and I was out cold.

  Gerron

  The Next Day

  Last night, when I was leavin’ the neighborhood, I saw Stevie and them punishin’ Ginger. I jumped out, scooped her up, and put her in my car. Stevie tried to step, and I ended up smackin’ her back. I guess I ended up hittin’ a female after all.

  I know I shoulda taken shawty to the hospital, but too much shit was goin’ on, and I ain’t think she would be safe. I did all I could to take care of her, but had a feelin’ she wouldn’t make it. She hadn’t opened her eyes since I helped her.

  This morning, I found out from some people that Ginger tried to kill Milli and failed. He was in intensive care but stable. She should have shot the nigga in the head. Now he was gunnin’ for her and me too.

  Of course I missed my flight, so I decided we’d stay in a remote hotel in Virginia, surrounded by trees until she got better. Nobody would ever find us here. I just wanted shawty to pull through.

  It was ten o’clock at night, and I was rollin’ a blunt when Ginger finally opened her eyes. I put the jay down and rushed to her side.

  “Where . . . where am I?” she said in a low voice, touching her head.

  “You wit’ me.” I smiled. “How you feelin’?”

  “I have a bad-ass headache.” She smiled. “So you came back for me after all.”

  “Shawty, why you ain’t shoot them peoples in the head if you were tryin’ to kill him? He alive.”

  She sighed and said, “Damn.” She paused. “I remember everything about that night. You were tryin’ to stop me from goin’ inside. You knew they were in there, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know I can’t go back, and I can never be wit’ my daughter,” she cried.

  “That ain’t true. You could turn yourself in, and maybe the charges won’t be so bad.”

  I was talkin’ bullshit and she knew it. I wanted to offer her hope.

  “I committed murder, Gerron. It’s over.”

  My phone rang. “Hello.”

  “Baby, can you hear me?” The sound of my mother’s scared voice had me shook.

  “Ma! You okay?” Silence. “Ma! What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Bodie,” she whispered. “He . . . he says he’s gonna kill me unless you can give him one hundred thousand dollars.”

  Stevie’s House

  It was two in the morning when Melli snuck into her big sister Crystal’s bedroom and shut the door.

  “I did what you ask me to,” she whispered. “I called Ginger and told her Milli was my father. Now you gotta give me my stuff.”

  Crystal never believed her sister would do what she dared her to, but she was wrong. Crystal hated the way Milli doted over Denise, ignoring them, and she hated the way Ginger looked down at her. A few days earlier, when she heard her mother and aunt plotting to rob Ginger, she came up with the plan to tell Ginger the truth about Milli—in the hopes of ruining Ginger’s life. She wasn’t concerned with getting caught, because she’d blame the whole thing on Melli.

  “Let me give you your stuff.”

  Crystal pulled a shoebox from under her bed and handed Melli four packs of cheese sunflower seeds and a pickled sausage. Melli plopped happily on the edge of the bed and started eating.

  As Melli chewed her snack, Crystal wondered, if Melli could be bribed by something so small, what would she do for something bigger? She had all intentions of finding out.

  Take It to the Grave

  by Caroline McGill

  Bless slowly pulled his shiny black Mercedes-Benz S550 into a parking spot in front of the housing projects he resided in. He hopped out and pulled up his pants; locked the doors and activated the alarm. He made his way toward his building, #270, and proudly l
ooked over his shoulder at his $90,000 ride—one last time. He was headed for the small project apartment he shared with his mother and little sister.

  Along the way, Bless noticed Tasheema, a girl he’d been trying to bag for a couple years, walking toward him. And to his delight, she was all alone.

  Bless straightened up his shoulders, and his walk changed a little bit. When they passed each other, he got bold and grabbed her hand. As usual, she played hard to get, but he saw her trying not to smile. He pressed her, like he did each time he saw her. To his pleasure, this time he made her blush.

  Tasheema was a good girl, and he was attracted to that—and the fact that she wasn’t easy. He liked a challenge.

  “You always playin’ hard to get. But trust me, ma. I’ma make you my wife, wit’ ya pretty ass.”

  Tasheema smiled at him again, and she tried to keep it moving. But Bless was determined to get somewhere, so he wouldn’t let her hand go. He looked in her eyes sincerely and decided to just be real with her.

  “When you gon’ let me take you out, shorty? On some for real stuff, I just like you. There’s somethin’ about you. Let’s go out, no strings attached. We’ll have a good time. You like to eat, right?”

  She made a face at him and sarcastically said, “No, I hate eating. I never eat!” They both laughed.

  Bless said, “Thick as you is, I know that ain’t true. I can tell you be eatin’ good, ma.” He gave her an approving onceover.

  Tasheema blushed again. For some reason she decided to take him up on his offer; probably because he had managed to make her laugh. That was something she didn’t have the luxury of doing lately. She was fresh out of a horrible relationship and still quite heartbroken ; so she could use some humor in her life. She once heard that the best way to get over a man was to get under a new one. She thought, what the hell, and told him they could make that happen.

  Bless was sort of surprised that she agreed. He was used to her turning him down, but he hid his shock well. Her response sent his self-esteem soaring. Right about then, he felt like he had wings.

  Bless caught himself. He regained his composure and stopped grinning so hard, and then he told her he would pick her up on Friday at around nine o’clock. She agreed, and they exchanged maths. After they were done storing each other’s number in their phones, they bid each other good night and parted ways.

  While he was walking away, Bless looked back at her ass. It was fat, just the way he remembered it. She turned around to see him too. She caught him sizing her up and laughed. After that, they both kept it on a hop. He glimpsed back again and noted that she’d started switching her butt a little harder.

  Bless kept on up the walkway toward his building. He took the pissy-smelling elevator to the ninth floor where his apartment was. As he stepped off the elevator and walked up to his crib, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts about Tasheema, he wasn’t on point. Just as he was about to stick the key in the door, he realized he had company.

  Bless looked into a familiar pair of cold green eyes, and his smile faded. His stomach tightened into a huge knot. He was face to face with an old acquaintance of his. Standing before him was the last person on earth he expected to see. It was the mighty Lion, a bald-headed, light-skinned, green-eyed devil. Lion was a gargantuan 6 foot 6 inch notorious street legend who he happened to owe about a quarter million dollars. That was about a quarter million more than he had, so Bless was literally about to vomit and shit on himself.

  He fought to keep his composure. Praying he didn’t give off an air of fear, Bless said, “Lion! My man! What up?”

  Lion wasn’t in the mood to play the fake shit. He just crossed his arms and nodded, and didn’t even crack a smile.

  Bless’s mind was racing. He wondered how a nigga who had been serving forty years’ fed-time was standing in his path. He grinned and said, “Welcome home, my nigga! When you get out?”

  Lion hated small talk. Still stone-faced, he ignored the question and asked one of his own. “So what you got for me, boy?”

  Bless swallowed nervously and started tap-dancing around the subject. He told Lion that he had some bread, but it was a little tied up. He said he had to maneuver it around for safekeeping. The look on Lion’s face said he didn’t want to hear the lollygagging and bullshit.

  Bless could tell he was getting short of patience, so he lied and assured him he had it. “I got you, man. Don’t even worry. That’s my word. Just gimme a li’l bit of time.”

  Lion stepped up and put his face so close to Bless’s he could smell what he had for breakfast. He wasn’t the type to yell, but his personality was so powerful that even his whisper came across as ferocious. The seven words he said were not to be taken lightly. He said, “You got ’til Friday, or somebody’s dead.”

  Bless didn’t even have a response for that. He knew Lion was referring to him or one of his family members. He got the picture. He knew how the game went. That was why that mothafucka had showed up at his crib—to show him he knew where he and his family lived. Damn, he had gotten himself in some deep shit.

  Lion looked at the key in Bless’s hand and said, “What kind of car I got now? That look like a Benz key. Let me get my keys, little nigga.”

  Bless opened his mouth to protest, but Lion silenced him with a look. Damn, he almost felt like crying. That car was his baby. He took better care of her than he did his own daughter; but he knew he didn’t have any wins because he did that nigga dirty. That car was everything to Bless, but he didn’t have a choice at the time. He wasn’t strapped, and he could see from that bulge under Lion’s T-shirt that he was. Reluctantly he handed over the key to his most prized possession in the world. He was sick.

  Lion saw the hurt look on his face, so he smirked at him. He said, “You’ll get it back when you send my fuckin’ money.”

  Bless nodded, knowing that was virtually impossible at the time. He stood there in disbelief, and Lion continued to shake him down.

  “Now, how much money I got in your pockets?”

  Bless sighed and shrugged. Wow, that was some bullshit. He was getting the full court press. He dug in his pocket and handed over a small knot of bills. It was only about four hundred bucks.

  Lion looked at that chump change like it was covered in monkey shit, but he took it from him. It wouldn’t do much for his situation, but it was the principle. And he meant exactly what he said. If he didn’t get his money somebody was dead.

  He patted Bless’s other pocket to make sure it was empty, and then he grabbed him by the neck. Lion leaned over and snarled in his ear, “Boy, you were like a son to me, but I’ll kill you, li’l nigga.” He squeezed Bless’s neck until his huge biceps trembled.

  Eyes bulging out of his head, Bless attempted to free himself. He couldn’t breathe or speak with those mittens wrapped around his throat. Lion was a big mothafucka who had obviously been working out in the can. Bless wished he could get to his gun. He prayed that nigga wouldn’t choke him to death.

  Finally, Lion laughed wickedly and loosened his grip. He hit Bless on the back and said, “Get at me soon, boy. And thanks for the ride.” He winked at him, and then he disappeared.

  After he left, Bless went inside the house feeling like a straight herb. He locked the door and had a seat on the couch. He sat there for a minute thinking. It looked like he no longer had a vehicle to take Tasheema out on that date. And that was the least of his problems.

  Bless was sick—literally. That nigga Lion really shook him down. He was glad nobody was around to witness that. He was ashamed of the way he had just allowed himself to be punked. He let that nigga just take his shit.

  Deep inside, Bless knew he had it coming. He had violated and really crossed Lion, so he tried to look at the bright side. At least that man had given him the opportunity to straighten face. Lion could’ve just showed up gunning for him. He had to do something to get that nigga bread. He thought back to the beginning when all the shit began.

  A few years ago—when Lion
was on top—Bless was a young, fatherless lad, aspiring to run with his organization. He had started out as a lookout boy and had worked his way from the ground up. Lion had liked his ambition, so he took him under his wing. Bless became sort of his young protégé. When Lion schooled him, he would just sit back and absorb everything and quietly observe the way he ran his empire. He told himself he would be thorough like him one day—if given the opportunity.

  As time went on, Bless earned the position of junior executive. But before long, Lion and most of his team members were busted. After being hit with numerous secret indictments, they were carted away by the feds. It turned out that there had been an informant in the midst. They later found out it was a third level worker who was caught selling cocaine to an undercover federal officer. After he was arrested, he discovered that he wasn’t at all built for the game he had chosen. He broke under the pigs’ pressure when they interrogated him, and he gave up all the key players. Lion was the head honcho.

  Lion had managed to bubble in the game for years because he kept the right palms greased, but that was when he was just dealing with NYPD. Playing with the feds was a whole new ballgame. They didn’t take any fucking payoffs. Ironically, the dirty NYPD pigs he was paying protection money to wound up getting investigated as well.

  The bigger you are, the harder you fall. So needless to say, Lion hit the ground pretty hard. The feds were meticulous. The pig bastards had done their homework and found out about everything he owned everywhere. They stripped him of all his belongings and finances until he was just about dirt poor. They seized his overseas assets as well, and froze all those accounts too.

  Word quickly hit the streets that Lion and his workers were done. Rumors spread that he was facing like two hundred years, so everybody assumed that he would never see daylight again. With his back against the wall like that, even the women in his life turned on him. His wifey, Nyla, was the only chick that would’ve rode with him, but she was so heavily involved she was arrested too.