by Wahida Clark
Then he thought of Janay and Big Choppa. Had they figured out the relationship between him and Mr. G, or somehow learned it was his shooters that had carried out the hit attempt on Janay and Boomer for Mr. G? Big Choppa was no one’s fool, and his daughter was just as sharp. But finding that out would be impossible. He and Mr. G would have to tell on themselves. And then it hit him.
Briggen.
Had he sent the team at him because he had taken Shan from him? Because he had betrayed him? He may’ve been locked up, but he knew Briggen’s reach was long and real. All three were valid choices, so he knew he needed to lay low until he could figure out his next move.
Nick headed straight to Shan’s once he was back in the city. He needed to see her and tell her what was on his mind. Besides, he missed her. He knew Shan was a good girl and wifey material, and he wanted her in his corner. Especially if she agreed to his proposal. When he got to her place, he noticed a mint green BMW 650 with Jersey license plates parked behind her Infiniti. His first thought was, it’s a nigga—his blood pressure heated up his ears. She said she needed space, but he’d be damned if that included space enough for a nigga to be laying up in a place that he kept up.
Nick rang the doorbell, and when it wasn’t answered instantly, he rang it again. He started to ring it a third time, but Shan peeked out, saw him, and opened the door.
“Nick, what’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” he replied, moving past her with swiftness and entering the living room.
Instead of a nigga, he was met by two sexy pairs of eyes looking back at him. One chick had Brianna lying across her lap, and the other was holding a rattle. The floor was strewn with torn wrapping paper and ribbons, as if presents had been opened. Shan came around the corner and sat back down.
“Nick, these are my peoples, Courtney and Michelle. Y’all, this is Nick!”
They all exchanged pleasantries, but remembering the look on Nick’s face before he saw the females, Courtney remarked, “Don’t worry, Nick. That’s me out front.”
When Shan caught on, they laughed, and even Nick had to join in. “Naw, yo, I wasn’t on it like that. I’m just sayin’,” Nick smirked sheepishly.
“Oh, we know exactly what you was ‘just sayin’,’ ” Courtney snickered.
Nick liked the two chicks’ swagger. They definitely didn’t have a dyke vibe, but their vibe said they weren’t on some gold-digging shit either. They struck him as straight-up go-getters; he just didn’t know how right he was.
After they left, and she put the kids to bed, Nick and Shan kicked back on the couch, her feet up in his lap as he massaged them gently.
“Nick . . . Did you really think I had someone up in here . . . like that?” Shan asked, but her expression stated the real deal. Nigga, come on. Be for real.
“No, I’m just leery of strange cars,” he said.
“Yeah right.”
He started to tell her about the shoot-out, but something told him not to. Instead, he began with the subject that was really on his mind.
“So, did you think about what I said about making some moves with me?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t go into detail. You just said you thought it was time that I made some moves with you. And then you said, keep an open mind.”
“Well? Did you?”
“Nick, just tell me what you need me to do,” she replied with a hint of impatience.
“Look, with this fuckin’ case I’m under, I can’t move like I need to. But shit still gotta flow. I need somebody I can trust to hold shit down for a while,” he explained.
“Hold what down?”
“My connect,” he answered, getting straight to the point.
Shan looked at him. “You mean—”
“Ma, believe me. It will be free money for you. I’ve got everything in place, so you ain’t gotta ever touch nothin’ but money. It’s just that. I ain’t tryin’ to introduce nobody to my connect. Believe me, Shan, in six months, you’ll see more money than you’ve ever seen in your life,” he emphasized, needing to seal the deal.
He definitely had her attention. Shan knew her little stash wouldn’t last much longer. She needed a source of income. But . . . drugs? And he trusted her enough to turn her on to his connect? She now had a whole new respect for Nick.
Shan took her legs out of his lap and sat up. “But . . . Nick, I don’t know anything about moving weight,” she protested weakly.
He slid closer to her.
“You don’t have to, baby. I’ll be right there, just in the shadows. I got you. By the time I’m finished with you, they’ll call you the Doña,” he joked, making her giggle.
“Why me, Nick?”
“Because I trust you,” he replied, caressing her cheek. “You are all I got. And like it or not I’m all you got. Period. Real talk, I want to spend my life with you, Shan, and I’m starting here and now. It’s no coincidence how we were brought together. And look at all we’ve been through. We can continue to build this together, baby. All you gotta do is say yes.”
“Nick . . .” she whispered as he kissed her neck.
He playfully mimicked the duo Floetry. “All you gotta do is say yes,” and continued his soft kisses down into the V of her cleavage as he slid her blouse off her shoulders, and then down over her breasts. He then began to lick and tease each nipple.
“Don’t,” she whimpered, but her body was singing another song. “You said not until I was ready.”
He ran his tongue ticklishly along the length of her torso until he met the fabric of her jeans. He unbuttoned them, unzipped the zipper and slid them down along with her thong as he continued his full-body tongue massage.
“Oh, Nick, that feels so good. I—” Her voice caught in her throat when he began to lick and suck on her clit.
Shan instantly arched her back to meet his tongue, putting her hands on his head and gripping his head.
“Oh my God! What are you doing to me?” She gasped as his tongue unleashed all of her pent-up passions, passions she was scared to release because she didn’t know where they would lead her.
Nick sucked her pussy until she melted in his mouth and screamed his name.
“Fuck me,” she panted. Her pussy was on fire.
He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough, so she helped him, using her feet to take his pants down. He plunged into her wetness, and the first thing she felt was that delicious curve in his dick. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper.
“Oh, baby, I missed you, I missed you,” she groaned, gone in a zone as he stroked her spot over and over. They had only fucked once before back when she was a teenager. And then as if they had an unspoken agreement, they fell back after she had the baby. Nick told her nothing else would happen until she felt ready.
Part of her held back, the part that felt guilty, the part that still loved Briggen. But the part that craved Nick, that wanted to embrace all that he had to offer, opened up wide and welcomed him inside. When he did explode inside of her, and she lay content in his arms, she knew only one thing . . . she was caught up. What if Briggen found them? What if she got pregnant by Nick? Who would she choose? Was Nick right when he said they were destined to be together?
• • •
Janay let the music wash over her, totally immersing her body in it. She swayed gently and sang along from the depths of her heart.
“Never could have made it, without you.”
The large North Carolina Apostolic church was packed with worshippers who felt the same way, but for different reasons. Janay squeezed her eyes tight and thought about her whole life, from Shadee, to finding him with a man, the attempt Skye made to kidnap her, her prison stint, to getting shot.
“I could’ve lost it all. But now I see how you were there for me.”
Tears ran down her cheeks as she remembered the searing pain of the bullets that just missed her spine and could have paralyzed her for life. Her first thought had been revenge. War. Bloodshed. But somethin
g inside her stood up and said, “No!” A no that reverberated like the horns of Jericho inside her soul and brought down her gangsta walls. She attributed the transformation to Jesus, and she planned on spending the rest of her life thanking him.
The services concluded, and she led Marquis out of the church. She didn’t interact with too many people. She may’ve loved the Lord, but she hated the fakeness and hypocrisy of many churchgoers. Outside, she headed to her Lexus until Marquis yelled, “Uncle Born!” He let go of her hand and dashed off toward him.
Born grabbed Marquis and put him up in a playful chokehold. “What’s good, nephew?” Born smiled. Even though they were really cousins, Marquis had always called him Uncle Born, and he enjoyed it. “Dang, you’re getting tall. How old are you, fifteen?” Born joked.
“I’m eight. So you takin’ me to play basketball?” Marquis eagerly inquired.
Born chuckled. “We’ll see,” he said, putting him down.
When Janay approached, Born gave her a hug. The minute she saw him she knew what it was about.
“Hello, Born. How are you?”
“Hot,” he joked. “This Carolina weather is too humid for me.”
“You get used to it.”
“Either that or leave.”
Janay chuckled. “That too.”
“I went by the house. Boomer said you were in church.”
“And?”
“And what? I just came to check on you,” Born replied.
“Is that right?” Her left eyebrow rose.
“Besides, I could smell Boomer’s famous fried chicken.”
“All the way in Detroit?” She twisted her mouth playfully, and then they both laughed.
But the innuendo was clear: What are you doing here?
When they got back to Janay’s house on the outskirts of Charlotte, Boomer had the place smelling like a soul food restaurant. He had made fried chicken, candied yams, glazed ham, macaroni and cheese, greens, corn bread, and mashed potatoes. He did this every week at the behest of Janay, because all that they didn’t eat went to a nearby shelter.
After dinner, Janay and Born went out by the pool to relax on the patio. He saw an ivory chessboard with the pieces arranged as if a game was in progress.
“You play?” he asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.
“You wanna find out?” Janay teased, good-naturedly.
They sat down and set the board up.
“So what brings you to Charlotte, Born?” Janay probed.
“Business.”
“Thinkin’ about expanding?”
He shrugged. “Just curious,” he smirked.
“Well, whatever business you have, I wish you the best,” she told him.
He decided to play a queen’s pawn opening, and she adopted the queen’s Indian defense.
“Who taught you to play?” Born asked.
“Which game?” Janay joked.
“Both.”
“Then you already know the answer.”
“He definitely taught you well. That’s why I came to see you before I made a move out here. I needed to see if I’d be steppin’ on any toes.” Born attempted to bait a trap, offering her a piece which would’ve given him a strong positional advantage.
“If you are, they won’t be mine,” she told him.
He respected her game. “Come on, Janay. This Born. I know that bullet won’t keep you down. You go too hard.”
He made a careless move with his knight and left his queen’s side vulnerable. She made the most of it and pinned his knight and queen with her black bishop.
“Listen, Born, this ain’t because of fear of a bullet. This is real with me. The Lord is real to me. When I walked away, I didn’t look back. Period. Now, I go hard for the Lord,” Janay broke it down to him.
Before he could respond, her phone rang. She looked at it. Prison call.
“Excuse me,” she said, getting up and walking toward the pool.
She pressed five and the automated system put Choppa through.
“Hey, baby. How are you?”
“I’m good, Daddy. How are you?”
“Your ol’ daddy is hangin’ in here. You just comin’ back from church?”
“Yep,” she told him.
“Did you pray for me?” He chuckled.
She smiled, knowing it was his way of asking, did she still love him.
“Always, Daddy.”
“Yeah, well, you need to pray for that sister of yours. She gettin’ married.”
“She told me. But you say it like that’s a bad thing.”
“That’s because it’s to Dark.”
Janay stopped walking around the pool. She had peeped game as soon as Crystal told her the news.
“Well . . . if that’s what she wants to do, to each his own,” Janay remarked, but she couldn’t keep the hint of worry out of her voice.
“She needs you, ’Nay.”
“She needs Jesus, like we all do,” Janay shot back.
Man, fuck Jesus, Choppa started to say, but instead, he said, “Your sister needs you, ’Nay. I need you, the family needs you.”
Janay sighed hard. “Really, Daddy? You’re going to try to use her marriage to convince me to change my mind? Wow!” She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Baby, I’m just sayin’—”
“I know what you’re sayin’, but if that’s all you have to say, then ain’t no need to continue this call.”
For a moment neither said anything because they both were stubborn, locked into their own sense of right.
“Let me speak to Boomer,” Choppa grumbled.
Janay took the phone over to the driveway where Marquis had taken Born to shoot basketball.
“Marquis, here. Take the phone to Boomer,” she instructed him, and Marquis ran it inside.
“Listen, I can see you have a lot on your mind. Just know I’ll be around a lot more, so if you change your mind—”
“I won’t!” She snapped, a little sharper than she should have.
Born held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Don’t shoot.” He chuckled, and then gave her a kiss and a hug. Before he walked away, he turned back and said, “I left you in check. We’ll finish the game soon.”
“I bet we will,” she remarked. Janay turned and headed in the house, mumbling, “Lord, give me the strength!”
• • •
It was February and snowing but the sun was shining. All of the Saturday afternoon lovers were out and about where Dark and Mook met in Campus Martius Park. Mook had been one of Cisco’s top soldiers, but once Dark made his move, he had been treating Mook as his leading right-hand man. He was young, ambitious, and dangerous, but now Dark wanted to be absolutely sure of his loyalty.
“Yo, maine, shit ’bout to get real deep. I’ma ’bout to take this whole shit to the next level. But I need good muhfuckas around me, muhfuckas I can trust. Feel me?” Dark explained.
Mook nodded. “No doubt, I feel that.”
“And real talk, I fuck wit’ you because you saw the situation. You knew I had to do what I had to do and you rolled wit’ me,” Dark remarked, referring to the Cisco murder.
“Yeah, yo, fuck that nigga. Nigga was pussy. He was holdin’ us back.”
“Indeed, but now, some mo’ shit holdin’ us back, and I need you to handle that.”
“What up, though?”
“The Oak Ridge Crew,” Dark replied, looking at Mook to see how he would react. “I’m talkin’ about all them Tennessee muhfuckas—Rob, Mac, Darnell, Reggie, and Cisco’s two cousins Dana and Wes. They gotta go. Every one of ’em. They fucked wit’ Cisco, so one day, if they get the chance, they might wanna even the score. Fuck that! So I’m cleanin’ house. Startin’ a whole new family, and you the foundation. Tell me what’s good.”
Mook knew exactly why Dark was coming at him with the move. Mook had come up with Cisco’s people. He wasn’t related to any of them, but they had been a crew longer than he and Dark. Dark was
an outsider, and even though he was the boss, the crew wasn’t really his. Dark wanted to know where Mook’s loyalties lay, and he wanted blood to prove it.
“Yo, Dark, I fuck wit’ you too. You a real muhfucka, and what you askin,’ it’s a done deal, but—”
“Everything after but is bullshit,” Dark jeweled him. “You either wit’ me 110 percent or against me 110 percent. No buts, no fence-walking. So what’s good? You still got some buts?”
“Naw. I’m good,” Mook said without hesitation. Then he got straight down to business. “Now, real talk, hear me out. Them other niggas can eat a dick, but Mac is a muhfuckin’ soldier. We gonna need somebody out in Oak Ridge that understands how shit run. So leave Mac in place. I’m vouchin’ for the nigga. And since I feel like you respect my G, respect my judgment,” Mook proposed.
Dark thought about what Mook said. It made sense, but he didn’t want to leave loose ends. A few moments later, he came up with the solution.
“I’ll tell you what. If Mac wanna fuck wit’ me, then bring him the move I’m bringin’ you. You handle half them niggas, and Mac handle the other half. He gotta get his hands dirty too. Feel me?”
“Fair enough.”
“And remember, Mook. You vouched for the nigga, so he your responsibility,” Dark warned him, looking him straight in the eyes.
Mook met his gaze and nodded, but in his heart, he felt like he had just made a deal with the devil.
Dark’s phone chirped with a text. He checked it and smiled. It read:
Mission accomplished. You owe me big.
• • •
Choppa sat in the back of the gym in his wheelchair, watching the young men go hard on the court. They were going so hard that some were shirtless and still their bodies glistened with sweat. A couple of players were extremely talented. Even LeBron James talented. The only difference was they had made a bad decision, and now they were stuck behind bars for the decades they should’ve been making a name for themselves in the NBA. Subtly, he shook his head. Life rarely played fair. So a man had to make his own luck. Choppa had done that, but now looking death in the face he wondered what it all meant.