by Tanya Ridley
But there was pressure buildin’ in the city and it was hard to do business because cops were posted up everywhere. Apparently they had been ordered by the mayor to do a full investigation into the murders because the two pregnant women who were beaten to death didn’t sit too well with him. Even the Governor was on TV pleadin’ for someone to turn us in. They wanted arrests to be made and indictments to be handed down, at whoever was responsible for the gruesome killin’. They were even pushin’ for the death penalty.
But none of that shit scared me. The Mayor, the Feds all those assholes could talk all they wanted. I owned this town, so I was more than certain that nobody was gonna do anything to me.
However, there was one person who was beginnin’ to make me lose patience and that was Diamond’s cousin, Marquez. He was still a fuckin’ headache and wouldn’t back down even after we’d killed damn near all of is crew. I wanted to cut his fuckin’ throat and watch him bleed like a gutted pig. He was becoming a thorn in my side that I couldn’t pull out, so I placed a fifty thousand dollar bounty on his head, giving niggahs the green-light to take his ass out wherever he stood.
But Marquez was just one problem; the cops were becoming such nuisances by arresting and harassing my crew that business had dropped tremendously. I also suspected that I was pregnant with Ace’s baby, because not only was I two weeks late, but my breast felt like a ton of bricks and the nausea was kickin’ my ass in the morning. But I’d been pregnant before, so it was nothing new to me. Normally when I found out I was pregnant, I would be the first person at the abortion clinic, but this time I wasn’t so sure. This was the first pregnancy that I hesitated to get rid of, which was weird to me. Besides, I didn’t like kids anyway, so I didn’t know why I was contemplating about keepin’ it. I hated pregnancy because it always made me weak, and now wasn’t the time. With a war going on and the feds tryin’ to crack down on my organization, I needed every ounce of strength I had, so I kept my pregnancy a secret.
Mr. G. was back in town and he wanted to meet with me and Ace because he’d been hearin’ about all the problems goin’ on and wanted to see me in person. Hopefully he didn’t come at me in a bad way because I’d made his ass a lot of money over the past few months. I showed him that a woman could be as ruthless and business minded as any man, so I wanted my respect. I’d earned it.
Around eight that evening, me, Ace, and one of our goons pulled up to Azio’s a fine Italian restaurant in downtown Atlanta. I’d only come with one goon tonight because I felt safe knowin’ that he was extremely skilled and observant.
When we arrived, the hostess greeted us with a skeptical look. “Can I help you?” he asked in a snobbish tone. His eyes looked past me and landed on Ace and our goon, who were the only males in the entire restaurant without a suit and tie.
“I’m here to see someone,” I said.
“His name, please?” the hostess responded.
I gave him a smirk. “He’s expectin’ me.”
“This is a formal affair, and your guests do not have on the proper attire,” he replied.
“Look here, man. I don’t give a fuck about attire,” our goon barked, causing people around us to gasp and stare at us with a disgusted look. “What da fuck y’all lookin’ at!” our goon shouted.
Of course, Ace never said a word.
Suddenly, the hostess wiped beads of sweat off his forehead. It clearly showed that he was intimidated by our presence, and I couldn’t blame him. If his faggot ass was caught in our part of town, he would’ve been robbed and probably left for dead.
“They’re here with us,” we heard a man say.
As we turned around and looked, it was one of Mr. G.’s men coming to escort us to the table. The hostess looked at us, and then nodded his head for approval, like we really needed it.
On our way to Mr. G.’s table, we noticed the stares of disapproval about our ghetto presence among the upper class. I probably had more than enough money to run with the big dogs, but by the looks in their eyes, I was nothin’ but black ghetto trash lingerin’ in their part of town. I wasn’t even in their league with all the expensive jewelry I had on.
Mr. G. was seated at his private table when we arrived. He was distant from the rest of the crowd with one of his male bodyguards standin’ a few feet away as he ate his meal.
He sat in a correct posture, dining in his five thousand dollar tailor made suit and designer shoes. When we approached he looked up at us, and gestured for me to have a seat.
“You needed to see me,” I said sittin’ down.
He didn’t respond to me right away. He continued eatin’ his linguine and drinkin’ wine, before sayin’ a few words to his bodyguard in Italian. The bodyguard smiled and then glanced at me.
I looked at them and replied, “What the fuck did you say about me?”
“Watch your tongue,” his bodyguard warned.
“Relax, she’s just expressing her concern,” Mr. G. replied.
He then looked at me. “But please, no cursing in this establishment, so leave that ghetto nigger shit at home. You already caused a scene out front.”
I reluctantly held my tongue and focused on business. I knew now wasn’t the time or the place to get violent and ghetto. Even though he was a powerful and a made man, I still wasn’t gonna let him or anyone of his goons disrespect me like that.
Mr. G. took another sip of wine. “Mya, what did I tell you about bringing me problems?”
“Ain’t no problems, everything is still under control.”
“I saw the papers and read about these murders. You made headline news, and now the Feds are involved,” he stated.
“It’s nothin’ that I can’t handle.”
“Little girl, once the Feds get involved, they don’t go away,” he informed.
This pasta eatin’ mutha-fucka was startin’ to piss me off. “So what are you sayin’, Mr. G.?” I asked.
“How does your generation say it, you’re hot right now, too hot for business. You’ve attained quite a name for yourself over the past few months, murders, extortion, and killing pregnant women. I like things to be quiet.”
“I can’t stop people from comin’ at me. I gotta let everyone know who’s in control, who not to mess wit,” I replied.
He looked at me and laughed. “I can’t believe you think you’re tough. There are other ways to handle things. You gotta know how to be subtle. These headline murders, they bring heat down on you and me. Now, my partners are afraid to continue business with you.”
“So are you backin’ out on me?” I asked clenchin’ my jaw.
“I told you that I didn’t like problems or risks,” he explained.
“I wasn’t a risk over the past few months when I made millions for you and your people up north,” I retorted.
“You nigger, bitch,” his bodyguard shouted, looking like he was about to reach for me.
But Ace and our goon, stepped to him, but before anything could jump off, and Mr. G. spoke up. “Everybody calm the fuck down, this is business. No guns, no violence, especially here,” he said, looking around the restaurant.
His boy backed off, and so did mine. “I told you, this city is mine to deal with, and I can handle it myself. Now I need that pipeline to continue business and cuttin’ me off would be a mistake.” “Are you threatening me, Mya?” he asked with a confused look.
“Not at all, Mr. G. I respect you a lot, but you know that there’s tons of money to be made in this city. You would be cuttin’ your own throat if you stop dealin’ wit’ me. You won’t have no one else to distribute for you. I’m feared everywhere,” I explained.
He looked at me and laughed again. “Do you think you’re my only customer in Atlanta?” he asked, taking another sip from his glass. “I have others who work for me, unbeknownst to you, Mya,” he continued. “I never put all my eggs in one basket. You’re nothing but one of many niggers I help make rich, and who help make me rich. I don’t give a fuck about you; you’re just a cash cow to me
. I’m good to you niggers, and don’t forget it.”
His mockin’ smile toward me made me nauseous, and I began to feel sick. I started to feel light-headed. “I need to use the bathroom,” I said, feeling my forehead.
Mr. G. displayed a wicked smiled. “Inside, to your left, the waiter will direct you.”
I rushed out of my seat and walked to the nearest bathroom as quickly I could. With my hand on my stomach, I darted into the ladies bathroom, and made a bee-line for the nearest stall. I dropped to my knees and threw up in the toilet.
“Oh God,” I cried out. At that moment, I wanted to get a hanger and give myself a fuckin’ abortion, but I quickly thought about Ace. The thought of us havin’ a baby was startin’ to sound good to me. Maybe I could be a good mother.
I remained hovered over the toilet for a few moments, makin’ sure I got everything out. I didn’t need anymore interruptions when I got back to the table. It was already embarrassin’ to be in this condition during a critical moment in my life.
I lingered in the bathroom for a short moment, collecting myself, and then exited the stall. I went to the sink, washed my hands and face, and then stared at my reflection in the mirror. Even after throwin’ up everywhere, I still looked good.
I began to think about my relationship with Mr. G. that was obviously startin’ to become a problem. He didn’t respect me, and all he cared about was me makin’ him richer than he already was. In his eyes, I was still a nigger and would never be on his level of power. But the one thing that Mr. G. underestimated about me was that I was a bitch who took risks and didn’t give a fuck. So in his eyes, I may be still a nigger, but this nigger wasn’t a slave to anyone.
When I stepped out the bathroom, Ace was there to greet me. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m good. Is he still at the table?”
He nodded his head.
“Good,” I said, putting a mint in my mouth.
Before I could walk off, Ace grabbed me by my arm. “He offered me your position again. He wants you dead and for you to take the heat for everything that’s happened”
“That mutha-fucka,” I cursed. “Do you trust him?”
Ace shook his head. “No.”
Before walkin’ away he looked at me and said, “You haven’t heard any of this.”
This time, I nodded my head. I loved the fact that Ace always had my back, and made sure that nobody fucked wit’ me. He was the only person who I could trust.
We went back to the table and acted as if everything was still good between us. Mr. G. was still at the table nibbling on his meal like he’d never said a word to Ace.
I took my seat across from him, and tried to subside my anger. “Mr. G. I’m sorry that you’re upset with the way I do business. You’ve made me a rich woman and I’m very grateful.”
“You should be. I bring you niggers up from poverty and make the ghetto rich. But you bring problems, Mya, too many problems. But since I like you, I’ll think about it. Now let me enjoy my meal in peace,” he said, in a very arrogant tone.
I stood up, but as I walked away, I heard him say somethin’ to his bodyguard in Italian causin’ him to laugh.”
I stopped walkin’ and thought about murdering his ass, but decided against it. There were too many witnesses around anyway. So I went my way, thinkin’ to myself, it was either him or me, and it damn sure wasn’t gonna be me.
Later that evening, I was in my bathroom preparing to get in the tub when Ace walked in.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m straight.”
I looked at his handsome features and was tempted to tell him about my pregnancy. I wondered if he wanted to be a father because I didn’t want to be a mother to a bastard child.
“What do you plan to do about, Mr. G.?” he asked.
“Kill him,” I responded harshly.
He smiled and shook his head. “If you do, it’s gotta be subtle, because the Feds are around.”
“That’s cool. As long as he goes, I could care less how it’s done.”
Ace remained in the bathroom with me as I dropped my robe in front of him and slowly approached the tub. Leisurely, I dropped myself into the tub and took pleasure in the warm soothing water that overwhelmed my body.
Ace stood over the tub and stared at me. I wanted his arms wrapped around me to hold me for the night, which was a different affection for me. Since we’d been intimate, I hadn’t cheated on him once. Somethin’ I’d never managed to do wit’ any other man. Ace fulfilled me with everything that I needed in a man. He was a gangsta, and his dick game was spectacular.
As I lay relaxed in the tub, enjoyin’ a moment of peace, I looked up at Ace and asked, “Do you love me, baby?”
“I told you that I’ll always have your back,” he responded.
Hopefully, that’s his way of tellin’ me that he loves me too. I wanted to tell him that I was pregnant, but I remained hesitant. I didn’t want to look weak and more importantly didn’t know what his reaction would be. It’s still not the time, I told myself.
Ace peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He then took off his jeans, followed by his boxers and stood naked with his gorgeous body. His dick hung low like a thick vine from a tree.
He walked toward the tub and slowly got in. His body always got me excited. Once he was in the tub, I straddled him, pushin’ his back against the wall. I embraced him tightly when I felt him enter me. He gripped my neck tightly and pounded his dick deep inside my pussy. He grabbed my ass with a strong grip and fucked me even harder. He was a beast in the tub, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
As the night moved on, Ace was lying on my bed, snoring like he was about to lose his breath, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept racking my brain, thinking about the hit on Mr. G. I knew everyone would think that I was crazy, but it had to be done. I knew he wanted to kill me, so I had to try and get to him first. That’s how those greasy mob mutha-fuckas think. If he thought I was gonna make him tons of cash and then have me replaced so easily, then he was wrong. Mr. G. had made his move, but now it was time to make mine, and I wasn’t going to miss.
I had enemies to get rid of, and a vendetta so strong, that these streets were gonna continue to be bloody, despite the Feds sniffing around.
Chapter 22
Diamond
With Rashad back in town, everything seemed to be going well, but I knew my happiness with him would be short-lived. We fucked like rabbits, and I had the ladies in my shop gossiping more than ever before.
To add to the drama, Marquez didn’t trust him. He couldn’t understand how Rashad had gotten locked up for only six months on a drug charge and was already out. I tried to explain to him that he was my first love, but once Marquez had his mind made up about someone, there was no changing it. Rashad wasn’t the type of man to back down from my cousin, because he was a thug too, so I kept the distance between the two of them.
With Scottie still in Miami, our relationship was becoming more business than intimate. It had been almost two months since I’d seen him. We would talk on the phone, but was distant every time we talked. I knew that meant he was fucking another woman. I wasn’t stupid. I even thought I heard a woman’s voice in the background late night one while he was on the phone with me.
I asked him about it, but he got upset and told me to know my place. So what I thought was special with him, ended out being nothing more than business in the end. I’d made so much money pushing drugs, and trying to run a legit business that I knew the bottom would soon fall out from under me. I was scared. That’s why I looked for comfort with Rashad. Being with him, made me feel safe and wanted, so hopefully when the shit hit the fan, I prayed that he would be by my side to protect me.
One Sunday evening, Marquez and I decided to have lunch together at The Cheesecake Factory. It felt good spending time with him. We’d both been so wrapped up with this street war, making money, and other bullshit that it was good to spend quality time with my family.
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Seeing Marquez seated in front of me in one piece, brought tranquility to my heart. So far Mya hadn’t been able to get close to him, and I was thankful for that.
My cousin looked so handsome in his casual button down shirt and black slacks. For once, he didn’t look like a hustler. We both gave a toast to success and family.
“You know your mother didn’t want this kind of life for you, Baby Girl,” Marquez said.
“Yeah I know, but what was I supposed to do? I grew up around this mess and did what I had to do. Shit, I didn’t fall through the cracks, I was pushed.”
“Well, I know she wanted to see you in college, to see you become a lawyer or a doctor. She even made your brother put some money aside for tuition.”
“Yeah, but that was her dream, not mine,” I stated.
“Yeah, but becoming a lawyer would’ve been a whole lot better than dealing wit’ this shit. I mean, I’m glad that you’re doin’ your thing wit’ the salon; but Baby Girl don’t let this lifestyle become you. I’ve been through it all, and this is who I am, but just to see you come up out of this and move on to something better, would probably make Auntie proud. And I ain’t gonna lie, me too,” he said.
I was quiet for a moment as thoughts of my mother entered my mind.
“Why don’t you call her?” Marquez asked. It was almost as if he was reading my mind.
“I’m scared. I tried calling her a few months ago, but as usual she didn’t answer.”
“Well keep tryin’. I know she’ll come around,” he replied.
“I hope so.” I stared at my grilled chicken and tapped it slightly with my fork. “Do you know what I want more than anything? A family,” I informed him. “Something I haven’t had in a long time.”