Dream Weaver

by Nene Capri

  Money sat in the back of Derrick’s Escort with regret in his heart. He had taken another man’s life, and regardless of what people think, killing didn’t make him feel superior. He rode on, looking out of the window, thinking about the hell they had just brought to their doorstep.

  Dream sat with his head down for about ten minutes after he heard the door slam, then looked over at his boy, lifeless and twisted to the side. Heat rose in his stomach and bubbled up to his chest. Sharp pains surged through his temples as he looked at the injuries his boy had taken. They had touched his family, right in front of him, and in that rage he plotted his revenge.

  Money pulled up at Jocelyn’s house and tucked away the memory. He checked his gun, looked around, stepped out of his car, and moved swiftly up the driveway. After knocking a few times, he stood back and waited for her to open the door. After a few more knocks, the locks clicked and the door opened.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. She grabbed his arm, pulled him inside, and looked up and down the street. She closed and locked the door, then pulled him into the living room.

  “You all right up in here?”

  “I’m maintaining. We been shook up ever since y’all left.” Jocelyn stepped close to him, and he embraced her.

  “Yeah, we good. Who you in touch with?” He got straight to the point.

  Jocelyn pulled back and looked up into his face. “It’s just me and the girls. We were waiting for y’all to pop up and give us instructions.”

  “Yeah, we’re all waiting for instructions.” He paused, waiting to see if she would go further.

  “What’s the next step?” she asked, taking a seat.

  “We just gotta wait this shit out,” he said, taking a seat across from her. “We still looking for the stash. They say Derrick was moving it around the city. We need that relocation money.” He set his bait.

  “I don’t know where shit is at,” she answered quickly. “If those bitches know, they wouldn’t tell me. Shit, they don’t even talk around me.” She lit a cigarette.

  “Well, just know I got your back. If you hear some shit, hit me as soon as you know. We put too much into this shit to walk away empty handed.” He maintained a firm face. “I’ma text you my new number, only call if it’s an emergency. Other than that, I’ll hit you.”

  Money typed in the number and headed to the door. Jocelyn walked behind him, staring hard at his back.

  “Don’t get fucked up trying to trust these bitches,” he said as she held the door open for him to leave.

  Jocelyn held eye contact and did not bat a lash. “You will know as soon as I do. Fuck that, we deserve to be straight. I’ll hit you as soon as I know something.” She forced a smile. “You better go, the girls will be picking me up in a minute. Be careful out there.” She hugged him. Nigga thinks I’m stupid, she thought. She pulled the door open a little further. She surveyed the area, then waved for him to leave.

  “I’m here if you need me for anything,” he reiterated.

  “I know, and if you need me, I am here for you.” She smiled. “Hurry up.” She shooed him away.

  Money smiled at her and then moved quickly to his ride. They both dropped the phony smiles from their faces as the doors shut to her house and his car. Money was on a hunt for that cash. He knew that Derrick wouldn’t trust anybody with the money but a bitch. He had hidden the treasure between one of these ho’s thighs, Money just needed to figure out which one.

  * * * * *

  Leena walked into the restaurant, closed her umbrella, and set it in a corner. She stepped to the hostess and requested the table with her girls. The woman led her to a back table and took her drink order.

  “Hey, ladies,” she leaned in and hugged Jocelyn and then Kenyatta.

  “Hey, diva, how was the traffic coming over?” Kenyatta asked as he sipped her drink from the tall straw.

  “Girl, bye. That damn rain had traffic backed up for miles. But I’m here now, let the good times begin,” Leena said, snapping her fingers.

  When the waitress brought Leena’s drink to the table, Kenyatta and Jocelyn ordered another round plus appetizers.

  “So, what’s up ladies?” Leena asked, looking intense.

  “I guess I’ll go first,” Jocelyn said as she took the floor. “We need to find out what Derrick is doing. Money came to see me, and that nigga looks like he hasn’t had a good meal in weeks. His eyes were dark underneath, and he looked sneaky.”

  “What the fuck you mean by sneaky?” Kenyatta asked, wrinkling her brow.

  “The nigga was paranoid, looking around like he wanted to do a shake down,” Jocelyn answered, grabbing the dessert menu.

  “What did he want?” Leena asked.

  “He was talking about some stash Derrick’s got hidden, and somebody on the team got to know where it is.”

  “Well shit, you know if anybody knows, it’s Chyna’s ass,” Kenyatta added, rolling her eyes.

  “Exactly. That bitch over there eating well and fucking that nigga in Derrick’s house. That bitch ain’t nothing nice,” Jocelyn chimed in. Her mouth watered at the thought of getting her hands back around Chyna’s throat.

  “Look, we gotta stay focused. She is in just as much danger as the rest of us. Plus, I don’t think if she had money to bounce she would stay and let that nigga Dream disrespect her like that, on the real,” Leena stated.

  “Whatever, I think the bitch is just nasty like that. But whatever. She better remember who had her back all these years and not serve us up for her freedom,” Jocelyn said.

  “How the fuck she gonna serve us up?” Kenyatta cut in. “I don’t fuck with them niggas. I fuck with y’all, and I got y’all’s back as long as we stay on the up with each other.” She made eye contact with her girls.

  “You don’t have to worry about my loyalty. I’m good, but the bitch who you think is Miss Congeniality is going to break y’all fuckin’ heart. Mark my words.” Jocelyn sat her menu down.

  Leena started to interject, but her vibrating cellphone stole the moment. “Speak of the devil,” Leena said as she opened the line.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, y’all still at the spot?” Chyna asked as she merged onto the expressway.

  “Yeah, we still here,” Leena confirmed.

  “I’m on my way,” Chyna said and then hung up.

  Leena cleared her line and took a deep breath. “That was Chyna. She’s on her way here. We all need to maintain our composure. If she is the snake, we need to pretend we don’t know until we actually do. No need putting ourselves on her shit list.”

  “Have y’all thought about what we are going to do?” Jocelyn asked as an onslaught of emotion crowded her mind. She hated playing all these roles, hopping from one foot to the next.

  Leena was about to answer, but the waitress came with the appetizers and the drinks. “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Leena said, and they began to dig in. “Look, we will be fine. Just keep up your normal activity and maintain your position. We don’t know shit,” she stated, chewing away.

  “You still haven’t heard from Trion?” Kenyatta asked, grabbing a hot wing and biting into it.

  Jocelyn tried to control her anger and fear as she answered, “No, but if he is on the go like Twist and them, we probably won’t hear anything until some of this shit blows over.”

  “This shit is crazy. Derrick always told us we would get our cut, and if shit went wrong we all would have access to the money. How the fuck we end up with welfare applications?” Leena added, trying to brighten the mood.

  “Fuck that nigga. He is the only one that has always been all right. Niggas following behind him and singing his praise, and that nigga’s a fag. Fuck him. I knew the day it was decided that he controlled all the money, we would all get the shit end of the stick,” Jocelyn hurled angrily.

  “We can’t let anger run our emotions. It’s not his fault,” Kenyatta chimed in, continuing to eat away.

  “Why are
you always sticking up for this nigga?” Jocelyn spat venomously.

  “Why you always so suspicious of everybody? He always gave us what he owed us.”

  “Bitch, please. Is that what he fed you with all that dick you were sucking?’ Jocelyn accused.

  “Don’t come for me. I don’t have shit to do with folks turning up missing, so fuck you,” Kenyatta spat and stuck up her middle finger.

  “The last thing we can do is turn on each other. We all played a part in this shit, praising him and excusing his faults and lies to be down with the team.” Leena looked at her girls falling apart. “We are all in danger. That nigga Dream is not playing, and if he thinks we are hiding anything, we will all pay for what Derrick did,” Leena reminded them.

  “You’re right. My bad. But what are we supposed to do?” Kenyatta asked.

  “We gotta survive this shit,” Leena said on a low voice.

  “I’m scared,” Jocelyn admitted.

  “Me too,” Leena said, reaching for Jocelyn’s hand. “Just hang in there. And no matter what, we can’t turn on each other.”

  “What are we supposed to do about Chyna?” Kenyatta asked.

  “We just gotta stay on her good side, because right now she is more of a threat then Dream is.”

  * * * * *

  Jocelyn walked into her apartment, thumbing through the mail. As she locked the door her cell went off. She fumbled in her purse and caught it just before the last ring.

  “Hello,” she answered, slightly out of breath.

  “You miss me?” the voice boomed through the phone.

  Jocelyn stayed silent. She looked around the room as if he was standing close.

  “I guess not,” he continued. “I need to see you.”

  “Where are you?” she asked, moving to the couch to take a seat.

  “I need you to meet me downtown at our spot,” he said and hung up.

  Jocelyn put her phone down and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. She threw on tight jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers and then moved quickly around her room. Jocelyn looked herself over in the mirror, then got on her knees and grabbed a red bag from under the bed. She unzipped it and looked at the neatly stacked bills. As she closed it, she thought about the risk she was taking, but she threw the idea right out of her head as she moved to the door and went to her car.

  Jocelyn drove with the rain beating against her windows. The rubber blades glided gracefully across the glass, wiping away the water, but they could not wipe away the uncertainty and fear she felt about this meeting. When she pulled up at the Marriot near Times Square, she parked and jumped out, holding the bag close to her body. Water ran off her ankles and into her sneakers as she moved through the lobby headed for the elevator. Once inside she leaned against the walls and closed her eyes, saying a little prayer. When the doors opened. She double stepped to the room and did the secret knock. Inhaling deeply, she waited for the door to open.

  Derrick opened the door wide and pulled Jocelyn inside. He took the bag, tossed it on the couch, and squeezed her tightly in his arms. “Damn I missed you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh my god. I thought you were gone. You scared me so bad.” She let out a loud moan, gripping him around his neck.

  “How could I leave my baby behind?” he held her even tighter.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, pulling back and looking in his eyes.

  “We gotta keep these niggas off our ass long enough so I can bring you with me,” he vowed, looking into her sorrowful eyes.

  “I’m so afraid,” she uttered, resting her head on his chest.

  “Don’t be. Everything will be fine. I got you. I love you, baby,” Derrick professed, caressing her back tenderly.

  “I love you more,” Jocelyn said, closing her eyes and enjoying his touch.

  Derrick slid his hands under her shirt. Jocelyn’s body began to heat up with every touch. In that moment, they were the only two that existed, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of the love she held for him. Derrick kissed her lips, feeling her melt in his arms. He needed her to trust him and do exactly what he said. An error on this level could threaten everything he had built.

  He pulled at her wet clothing until her thick, curvy frame was warm in his hands. He pulled off his t-shirt and sweat pants and led her to the oversized bed. When Derrick laid gently between her legs, he stroked away her uncertainty and confirmed in her mind that she was number one. Derrick ruled by lies and deception, and he was trying to keep his solid riders in the game. But while he was fucking his crew, somebody was getting ready to fuck him.

  Chapter 9 - Caught

  Money moved across the airport parking lot quickly, heading for the departure gate. He had been running from one state to the next. Every time he would get a little settled in, he would get word that Dream and his team were right on his ass. He had decided to go to Cali when he got a phone call from Jocelyn telling him to meet Derrick in Atlanta. He packed up what he had and drove straight to the airport.

  “Shit,” Money yelled out when he patted his pockets and realized that he had forgotten his wallet in the glove box. He turned on his heels and went back to his car.

  Money double timed it back to the car, looking at his watch and saying one hundred curses in his head. He hit the locks and reached inside. Money grabbed his wallet and slammed the glove box closed. He tried to force his wallet into his back pocket, causing it to fall to the ground and bounce under the car.

  “This ain’t my fucking day,” he huffed, shaking his head and getting on his knees to retrieve his wallet.

  Money rose to his feet, picked up his bag, and was stopped by the heat he felt coming from behind him. He quickly turned around and his eyes met Dream’s cold, black stare.

  “What the fuck?” Money said aloud as he froze in place. Money began looking around for any witnesses, but there was no one in site. Then his eyes settled on the silver piece in his hand.

  “Scary-ass nigga,” Dream uttered looking past his eyes and into his soul.

  “If you gonna make a move, make it.” Money pushed a slight amount of courage to the surface.

  “Nigga, don’t force boss through your veins. I know you got shit in your boxers,” Dream said. He adjusted his finger on the trigger, praying the disrespectful nigga would give him a reason to tie up every news station with a headline.

  Money swallowed his spit and tried his hand at reason. “Look, your problem is with Derrick. He violated you and us. I’m out here dolo. Your beef ain’t with me.” He paused to see if any of his words took root in Dream’s mind

  “It’s funny to me how you niggas shout and cheer that punk nigga’s name. All of y’all niggas broke, and then when shit get tight y’all bitch-ass niggas run and hide, throwing each other under a moving train on an icy rail.”

  “Nah, nothing like that. We a team, but sometimes a team moves together, and sometimes they don’t,” Money tried to spin his situation.

  “What the fuck does that mean? You was with that nigga the night he hit my shit, and now you want an excused absence on this payback? Fuck I look like, Boo Boo the Fool?” Dream gripped the handle snugly, trying to keep calm.

  “I ain’t have nothing to do with that hit.”

  “That’s funny. Your bitch seems to know otherwise, and when she getting that pussy handled right, she sings like a fucking canary. Oh wait, nah, it was the bullet to her girl’s head that caused her lips to bump.”

  “You touched my woman?” Money put his hands together and rubbed his fist in his palm.

  “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about, some heart. It’s about time. I was about to have you put her thong on.” Dream threw a balled up piece of fabric in Money’s face.

  When Money looked down and saw what appeared to be Tina’s thong at his feet. He became enraged.

  “Yeah, I thought you would recognized those. Her pussy was so sweat, I had to fuck her from the back to keep control. All that ass staring back a
t me. Mmm… she threw it back at me like I owned it, and when I hit that pot, she yelled out and gripped the sheets. Then I blew her fucking brains all over your black, satin sheets,” he teased, watching Money’s chest heave up and down.

  Money tried to discern if what Dream was saying was fact or fiction. The evil smirk on his face confirmed that it was all truth.

  “Now that we have all that out the way, I need you to give me that nigga skirt. Because if you make me keep hunting, I’ma kill everything y’all niggas love.” Dream spoke slowly and with certainty.

  “I ain’t got shit for you, my nigga,” Money struggled to hold back tears, but when he replayed Dream’s description in his mind, a single tear ran down his left check, then another from the right.

  “I’ma give you forty-eight hours, and then I’m gonna fill little white caskets with shattered dreams.” He reached back and pulled his hood down over his forehead. “Forty-eight,” he said one last time, before backing up slowly and then moving swiftly between the cars.

  Money gasped for air as he leaned forward and put his hands on his knees. He had made two fatal decisions. One, he’d crossed a mad man; and two, he’d left his woman and children in the war zone. It was true what they said about the game: Innocence is a lonely bitch until she joins up with street justice. And in the streets there is no innocence, only guilt and consequences.

  Money pulled out his cellphone and called Derrick.

  “Hello,” Derrick answered, sounding relaxed.

  “I’m not coming. You in the rest of this on your own,” Money said and hung up. He jumped back in his car and went to the exit. His eyes darted into every passing car, but there was no sign of Dream. However, Money knew that nigga was already ten steps ahead, and it was only a matter of time before fate stood still and death would have its sting.

  Chapter 10 - Street Justice

  Twist pulled off at his exit and looked over at Kianna, who was fast asleep. He had not heard from Frank or Money. He was totally in the dark. He pushed slowly through the parking lot, heading to the back of the motel. As he approached his usual parking spot, he eyed the area for any suspicious activity. His gaze settled on a dark-brown Dodge truck that was sitting in the spot next to where he always parked.