“Stacy, I just don’t wanna see you get hurt by him.” Larissa said in a serious tone. “If you really wanna get out…”
“I’ll be fine girl. I just wanna give him some more time to grieve before I bounce on him.” Stacy explained to her.
“Okay Stacy, but be careful.”
As the day went by, Stacy looked at her watch and saw that it was 6:45.
“Girl, it’s almost seven, I gotta get back.”
“I knew he had you on a curfew.” Larissa joked.
“Whatever, come on.”
Larissa drove Stacy back to her apartment and dropped her off. Stacy came inside the apartment with her bags in hand, and saw Damien sitting on the couch watching TV.
“Where have you been?” Damien asked her coldly.
“I told you I was out shopping with Larissa today. That’s why I’ve got all these bags.” Stacy said as she held up her bags.
“What time did I tell you to be home?”
“You didn’t tell me a certain time to be home. You just said you’d be home around seven or eight.” She looked at her watch. “It’s seven thirty.”
“Yeah, which means you shoulda been home before now and had something for me to eat when I got here.”
Stacy rolled her eyes. “Well I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but I told you I where I was. Why are you acting so funny about this?”
Damien got up off the couch and walked toward her. A hint of annoyance flashed in his eyes. He stood in front of Stacy and towered over her. Stacy was tired of his theatrics.
“The next time I tell you to be somewhere by a certain time you better find your ass there.” Damien said through clench teeth.
“What? I’m not a little girl with a curfew, and you ain’t my fucking daddy!” Stacy said, heated and not backing down.
Before she knew what happened, Damien backhanded Stacy across the mouth. Her head spun as she dropped her shopping bags on the ground. She staggered back and covered her mouth in shock as the pain stung her. Damien had never hit her before. He quickly grabbed her by her neck and hemmed her up against the wall.
“I gave you the money you got to go shop with, don’t forget that.” Damien said menacingly. “Don’t ever raise your voice to me in my house. Now get in there and fix me something to eat.” Damien demanded.
He shoved her toward the kitchen. Stacy still in shock stumbled to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and started to make him dinner. Fear and shock ran through her mind as she still tried to process what he did to her.
After he ate dinner, Damien looked at Stacy sitting in the chair across from him on the couch. Stacy had not said a word since he hit her. Damien felt some guilt about what he had done, and decided to reach out to her. He reasoned in his head that she had provoked him.
“Why are you so quiet?”
“No reason. I’m just thinking to myself.” Stacy softly said.
“Listen, you shouldn’t have made me mad. When I tell you to do something just do it. Don’t take my kindness for weakness.”
Stacy stared at him. What kindness? She thought but replied, “Okay.”
“Come here ma. I don’t like you sitting so far away from me.” Stacy obeyed his wishes and got up and sat next to Damien on the couch. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him.
“I love you girl. You know that right?” he
“Yeah, I know Damien.” She answered him. Damien kissed her lips. “I don’t want us to be fighting like that, alright?” Stacy nodded her head. “Listen, I’m thinking of moving us to a bigger apartment next month. You know the ones downtown. I’m making more money than ever before running these corners with Dwayne. I’m doing it for us ya know,” Damien said. She looked at him.
“For us?”
He smiled, “Yeah, ma. I’m gonna take care of you.”
Is this what he calls taking care of me? By slapping the shit outta me every time I say something he doesn’t like? I can’t believe this nigga just hit me, and then said I made him do it. Oh my God, Larissa was right. I gotta get away from his crazy ass. But if I just leave I know he’ll come after me. I can’t go to Remo or he’ll try and kill him too. How the fuck did I end up in this mess?
12
The Art of War
February 1994
Dwayne woke up in his apartment on 145th. He had just moved in a couple of months ago. Nobody knew this was his new spot. It was far enough from the hood without completely cutting himself off from it. He yawned and ran his hand over his head. He had another dream about Vanessa. She was haunting his dreams even more since they had ran into each other in Bishop’s house. The hardness of his penis stood firmly under his sheets. Her eyes, lips, and scent were still in his head.
The alarm clock said 8:30 a.m. It was cold outside, but he knew he had to get out there and hit the streets. He had to check on his soldiers on the block. That was his job. Dwayne was Bishop’s lieutenant in the streets. He was good at his job, and niggas respected his gangsta. Dwayne was the type of dude that would listen to what his soldiers had to say. He didn’t have to bark at his people to get results.
Dwayne got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He pissed his morning erection away, and then hit the shower. Ten minutes later he got out and dressed in a black pair of Karl Kani jeans and a black Wu-Wear sweater with a yellow Wu-Tang logo. He put his platinum chain around his neck and laced up his chukka wheat nubuck Timberland boots. Dwayne put on his black leather jacket, and his Yankee fitted on his head. He tucked his 357 Magnum in his waist and was out the door. A few minutes later, he was in his cherry red Mercedes-Benz, driving to Damien’s apartment to pick him up. Over the past year, Damien had become Dwayne’s right hand man. The two were almost inseparable as Dwayne schooled Damien on the do’s and don’ts of the game. After the death of Damien’s mother, he gave his protégé some time to grieve and get his mind right, but today it was time to black on his grind. Dwayne saw Damien smoking a Newport on the corner, and pulled up to the curb.
“What I tell ya about fuckin’ with them cancer sticks Dame?”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man,” Damien said, and got inside the car.
“How’s ya girl?”
“She’s straight. The pussy is still all good.”
“You good?” Dwayne asked him. He was still trying to feel him out and see where his mind was at.
“Man, I’m ready to get this money. Where are we heading to?”
“We’re gonna head over to the block. We need to check in with the niggas and make sure everybody is on point.”
“Cool. Yo you got that Ready to Die shit in here?”
“That Biggie? Hell Yeah.” Dwayne pressed the play button on the CD changer and Biggie’s Gimme the Loot started to thump from the speakers. Biggie’s hypnotic baritone vocals started to flow, and both Dwayne and Damien started to bob to the beat. As they drove through Harlem, Dwayne took mental notes of a couple of unfamiliar faces putting in work on corners that belonged to Bishop.
“You see that shit?” Dwayne asked him.
“See what?”
“Them,” Dwayne gestured to three dudes on the block hustling.
Damien nodded. “Yeah, I see ‘em.”
“Mutha’fuckas know this block belongs to Bishop, and they out here violating.”
“So what we gonna do about that shit? You need me to regulate them niggas?” Damien asked with murder in his eyes. Dwayne knew if he gave Damien the word, them niggas would be dead by sun down.
“Naw, this is Benny’s block. I’ve told him about these Haitian niggas moving in on our territory, and he ain’t doing shit about it.”
“Why not? You can’t let niggas violate like that. The next thing you know everybody will be moving in on our shit.”
Dwayne pulled off and headed over to his block. As they pulled up, they saw Benny holding court with six of the men that worked under Dwayne. Benny was not only a leg breaker and extortionist, he was also a bully. He was 6 foot 2 and 300 pounds of fat, black, and u
gly, and he used that to intimidate dudes. Benny liked to browbeat his workers. Dwayne hated when he tried that shit with his men. Benny was fucking with one of Dwayne’s workers named Ricky. Benny called him Mouse because he was small and he spoke with a bit of a stutter.
“So how much skins you hittin’ Mouse,” Benny taunted him.
“I…I…I get mine,” Rick said.
“I…I… I get mine?” Benny said mimicking him. “You don’t be getting shit nigga!” Benny yelled and the homies laughed. “Ain’t no female gonna fuck with a nigga that be stu…stu…stuttering and shit. Can you just imagine how this nigga would be with a bitch? I bet he be stuttering while he’s eating pussy! Fuck around and give a bitch a circumcision!”
Ricky was humiliated. It didn’t even matter that he did have a girlfriend. Whatever he would say, Benny would still clown him anyway. Benny was Bishop’s main man from back in the day. Benny was 39 and still acted like an 18 year old. As much as he wanted respect like Bishop, he could never get it. His motto was that he’d rather be feared then respected so being an asshole was his thing.
Dwayne and Damien walked up to the fellas, and Benny looked at Dwayne and smirked. Dwayne didn’t like Benny at all. As far as Dwayne was concerned, Benny was just dick riding Bishop for everything he got. He didn’t have the brains to run shit.
“What’s up Dwayne? I see you got your little nigga with you.” Benny said. Damien just stared at him, unmoved by his words.
Damien didn’t know too much about him, but he knew he was a pussy. and if Dwayne gave him the word he’ll bust a cap in his head along with the Haitian niggas on their block.
“What’s going on Benny?”
“Nothin’, just here fuckin’ with Mouse over here. Where did you find this little funny looking nigga at? He can’t even talk straight.” Benny said and laughed.
“Don’t worry about Ricky. He does what I need him to do. What’s up with your corners, Benny?”
“Ain’t shit up with my corners nigga.”
“Really? How come Damien and me just saw some Haitians standing on your block slangin’?”
“Them niggas ain’t shit. I’ll handle them niggas soon enough.”
“When?” Dwayne asked him.
Benny didn’t like the way Dwayne would question him like that, especially in front of the fellas. As far as he was concerned, Dwayne should have respected or feared him as much as he did Bishop.
“Don’t be questioning me, Dwayne. I said I deal with them niggas when I’m ready to.” Benny said in an irritated tone. He didn’t intimidate Dwayne at all.
“Well make sure you handle that shit quickly. You don’t want Bishop to find out what’s been going on in his backyard.”
Benny glared at him pissed.
“I said don’t worry about that shit. I got it.”
“Well, that’s all that needs to be said then.” Dwayne calmly responded. “Don’t y’all niggas got something to do?” Dwayne said to the fellas, and everybody went back to work. Ricky smirked to himself as he went back to work. Damien had his hand near his gun, and was ready to dump out on him. Benny motioned to his two niggas that he was ready to go, and they walked by Dwayne and Damien.
“I’ll see you later, Future King.” Benny taunted him as he walked by.
Damien wanted to kill him right there and then. Dwayne simply nodded and watched as Benny got into his black GMC truck with his niggas and drove off.
“We’re gonna have to merk that fat nigga soon ain’t we?” Damien asked.
“When the time is right, Benny will be dealt with. Let that nigga live for now.”
Dwayne and Damien got back in his Benz and drove off to their next spot. It was a bodega in Spanish Harlem that Bishop owned. The shop was a front, and they were pumping heroin out of. It had only been a few weeks since they opened, and business was booming. Dwayne had three men and a female called Nikia that worked behind the counter. Nikia was cute little light-skinned chick with big titties, nice lips, and a fat ass. Her hair was brown with blonde highlights, and was shoulder length. She was a hood chick that was good with numbers, and kept everything tight for Dwayne. Damien and Dwayne came up in the bodega, and Nikia smiled at Dwayne.
“What’s up Dwayne baby, you came here to see me,” Nikia asked as she licked her lips.
“No doubt ma. How’s business today?”
“Like clockwork. What’s up Dame?”
He grinned. “Chillin’ ma.”
“What’s up baby?” Nikia asked Dwayne.
“I was hoping you could tell me? What’s going on with Benny’s block? Who’s these new niggas I’m seeing?”
“You mean the Haitians?”
“Yeah.”
“Word is a dread called Papa Glock is moving in town, and locking down 110th.”
“Benny’s block?” Dwayne asked as he walked behind the counter over to Nikia sitting on a stool. “How long has this been going on?”
“Couple months from what I can tell.”
“Months,” Damien said surprised. “That’s not good man.”
“Benny should have shut the door on them from the beginning.” Dwayne said. Nikia went into the back, and then comes back with a duffle bag filled with money. She handed it over to Dwayne.
“Feels like it’s been a good week.” Dwayne said, feeling the weight of the bag.
“Like I said, it’s like clockwork.” Nikia caressed Dwayne’s arm. She sat back on the stool. “Listen Dwayne, the way I hear it, it sounds like Benny might be charging them Haitians rent. I know that’s your boy…”
“He isn’t my boy.”
“Well that’s what I hear niggas saying.” Nikia said to him.
“Thanks for the heads up ma.”
“I can give you more than a heads up Dwayne. Just let me know when you wanna come through.” Nikia said as she parted her thick thighs and Dwayne smiled.
“I’ll holla at you soon ma.” Dwayne caressed her thighs and walked out with Damien.
“Damn, shorty wanna give you the pussy bad. You gonna hit that?”
“I already have. Nikia is a nympho, she loves dick. I’ll get up with her later, but right now we got a situation we need to take care of.”
“Benny’s corners?”
“Yeah, we need to shut that shit down now.”
“Consider it already done my nigga.” Damien said with a smile.
At 110th Ave. and Lenox Ave., right down the street from the historic Lenox Lounge, drug dealers were open for business. 1 a.m., and fiends were coming to the corner street pharmacist for their prescription of rock, dro, or dope. Harlem was open for business 24/7.
“Whatcha need son,” a young dude called Starr said to a fiend looking for his next high. Starr fashioned himself somewhat of a hood star. He rocked diamond earrings in both ears and a Yankee jacket. He was the general running things with two other young men selling drugs with him. After getting a twenty from the fiend he gave him his rock and walked back over to his boys. They were all of Haitian descent, but were born in New York.
“Yo Starr, when we gonna merk that fat nigga Benny?” one of the dudes asked.
“As soon as Papa Glock gives us the word son. We run this mutha’fucka!” Starr yelled.
“No doubt nigga,” the other young man chimed in and said.
“Word is bond son, we’re gonna be running this city soon. Fuck Benny and them other niggas he runs with,” Starr said.
“I heard that nigga Bishop got Harlem on lock son.”
“Fuck Bishop too! I ain’t running from no nigga. That nigga bleeds just like the next nigga.” Starr was a very animated and vocal type of dude.
At 18 years old, he had a long rap sheet of arrests, and had done a short stint in a juvenile detention center. Starr was a career thug in the making. Papa Glock saw his potential, and made him make a deal with Benny to sell on his block for a small fee. As the young men continued to discuss their rise to power, a black Chevy Impala with dark tinted windows pulled up to the curb.
The window rolled down and Starr walked over to serve his new customer.
“Whatcha need homie?”
“You got that dro?” Damien asked, sitting on the passenger side while Irv drove.
“I got whatever you need baby.” Starr replied confidently.
“Yo, let me get that son.” Damien and Starr exchanged money and drugs in a close handshake.
“Whatever you need my nigga just come through. We run this city baby.” Starr said and stepped away.
“I’ll remember that, my nigga.” Damien said as Irv pulled off.
Starr went back over to his boys to hold court. Two minutes later the black Chevy Impala came back around the block. Starr saw the car coming back and smiled.
“Damn, they back for more.”
The dark tinted windows rolled down and fear replaced the smile that was on Starr’s face as he saw an AK-47 pointed at him. Damien was scowling at him with his hand on the trigger. Starr started to backpedal, and the AK-47 erupted, hitting Starr in the chest and making him backflip on to the pavement. One of Starr’s boys didn’t even have time to react as his face was blown off and blood and gray matter splattered against the wall. The other young man was able to reach for his gun, but was quickly cut down by the barrage of bullets ripping open his chest and knocking him back. Mayhem and carnage were unleashed in less than ten seconds.
“We run this city mutha’fucka!” Damien yelled and Irv pulled off.
Starr and his crew were left with their blood and guts spread out on 110th Ave. His dreams of becoming a hood star were now ended, and he was now just another statistic in the streets.
The next morning, Dwayne was back on his block, standing next to Damien and drinking a cup of hot chocolate. A copy of the New York Times in his other hand. Page four had an article titled, THREE BLACK MEN GUNNED DOWN ON LENOX AVE. Irv and Nard were there with them on the block. A black GMC truck came flying around the corner and stopped behind Dwayne’s red Mercedes. Benny hopped out of the truck and slammed the door. A frown was on his face, and his eyes zeroed in on Dwayne. Two other men get out of the truck as well. Benny made a beeline toward Dwayne. The vein in his forehead pulsed as he stood face-to-face with Dwayne. Benny’s men were flanked behind him on either side. Dwayne smiled at Benny’s posturing.
Born Sinners Page 8