Guilty Gucci

by Ashley Antoinette

  “No, love. I’m not knocking you. I feel you chasing the American dream. You want your piece of the pie. I understand that, but if you gonna do it why not go all out? Why the nickel and diming?”

  “What do you mean?” Chanel asked. “What, I’m supposed to strong-arm niggas? I’m only one bitch.”

  “And I’m one bitch and that makes two,” Raegan added. It was something that she had thought about for a long time. She had seen Chanel getting money and knew that she could help her take her hustle to an all-new level. Chanel was in it for materialistic gain, but Raegan needed this money. She had so much more at stake. Lisa looked at Raegan like she was crazy dumb. “What, Lisa? I’m dead ass. Niggas do it all the time. Sticking mu’fuckas for they paper. If we can hit just one good lick then we can all be set for a while,” Raegan said. She couldn’t even believe the words that were coming from her mouth, but her motivation was her child. She wanted to give Micah his money back so that he would return her son.

  “I’m for that and that bitch-ass nigga who fucked me up is first on my list,” Chanel said as she wiped her eyes.

  Lisa stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Are you two fucking serious? Raegan ... look at her. She in here smelling like piss, her mouth all busted up and you want to get in on that scheming bullshit?”

  “All we have to do is do it once and do it right. I see those school loan bills that’s piling up on your dresser, Lis. One good robbery will catch you up,” Raegan said convincingly.

  “So what you bitches are bank robbers now? Y’all gonna take a bank?” Lisa asked incredulously.

  “Not a bank. A stash house,” Raegan concluded.

  “Niggas be having at least a hundred thousand in they stash spots. Not to mention the coke that be lying around,” Chanel said, growing excited. This was the payday she had been looking for ... the one that she needed to leave the game alone for good.

  “You bitches are crazy. I don’t want a damn thing to do with this one. Good night,” Lisa said as she walked away from the conversation. She didn’t even want to know too much about it. She couldn’t tell what she didn’t know.

  “We can do this, Raegan,” Chanel said.

  “I know ... I need this money too, Chanel. You know that’s the only way Micah is going to let this beef with me go,” Raegan replied. Her eyes bugged out as she thought of who they would target. “I know a nigga too. He picks up this girl from the rehab center all the time.”

  “How you know he papered up? Just because he’s hustling doesn’t mean he’s doing it right. He could be an ol’ hustling backward-ass nigga,” Chanel asked.

  “Trust me he’s not just doing it for the lifestyle. He drives a Benz, keeps his girl laced ... I saw them tonight at the after party. He’s getting it. I know it,” Raegan said surely.

  “Then let’s do it,” Chanel said as she lifted her hand to give her girl some play.

  Raegan cringed and said, “I’ll give you a high five after you take a shower. You kinda stink.”

  Despite her pain, Chanel burst into laughter as Raegan chuckled too. In the back of her mind Chanel vowed that she would get revenge on the guy who had fucked her up. She would make sure that their paths crossed again one day, but in the meantime they were about to get money.

  Chapter Six

  For the next few days, Raegan made friends with Gucci. She made it a point to find out something new about her boyfriend each day. Raegan’s suspicions were right. According to Gucci, her boyfriend, Jamie, was the perfect lick. Raegan felt bad because she genuinely liked the girl, but her boyfriend had to get it.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” Gucci asked as they sat at the reception desk filing patient forms.

  “Yeah, why do you ask?” Raegan responded, hoping she wasn’t acting suspicious. It was awkward sitting next to the girl when Raegan knew in the back of her head that she was plotting on her man.

  “I saw what happened the other night ... at the after party. Dude was way out of line,” Gucci commented.

  “He’s my child’s father,” Raegan admitted.

  “What? And he fooling on you like that?” she asked.

  “We have a lot of issues with one another. I’m not fucking with him. He took my son away from me,” Raegan said. She didn’t know what possessed her to tell Gucci her business. She kicked herself for being so loose at the lips. She wished that she could take back the words as soon as she spoke them.

  “That’s foul,” Gucci replied.

  “The messed up part is he wants me to pay ten thousand dollars to get my own baby back,” Raegan said.

  Gucci was silent. She could hear the yearning in Raegan’s voice. She couldn’t pretend to empathize with Raegan. Gucci didn’t have children. In fact she didn’t want them. She was too afraid of what her mother’s genes might do to her own kids.

  “For what it’s worth I can tell you love your baby. Don’t let him beat you, girl,” Gucci stated as she stood from her seat. Raegan half smiled as she watched her walk away. Her conscience nagged at her to change her plans but it was too late. Chanel was already in place. She had followed him around for days until he led them straight to his stash house. Today was the day that Raegan gave the go ahead and there was no turning back. With their finances in dire circumstance, it was now or never. They had watched his every move and had his routine down to a science. It was time to set their nerves aside and make this money.

  At the end of the day Raegan left fifteen minutes early so that she and Chanel could already be in place when Gucci’s man came to get her. They watched as Gucci came out of the building and got inside his car and when he pulled off, he never even suspected to check his rearview mirror. He had no idea what was about to take place.

  Gucci sat back in the leather seat and sighed.

  “What’s good, baby girl? You don’t got no love for your man?” Jamie asked as he reached over and palmed her thigh tightly. Gucci leaned over and kissed his cheek, but he turned his head and dodged her.

  “You know what I’m talking about, ma. I just rode all the way across town to pick you up. Come put in some work,” Jamie said as he lifted out of his seat slightly and grabbed his crotch suggestively.

  Gucci wanted to tell him to kiss her ass. That maybe she would want to please him if he approached her differently, but what could she say. She needed him. He may not have treated her the best, but he kept her stable. The cash and gifts her threw her way made life bearable. Without him she would be on stuck. He was her man and she wanted to show him she appreciated the things he did for her, no matter how small. She slid her head between his legs and took him into her mouth, tears filling her eyes. Gucci would have gladly done what it took to please him if he didn’t constantly make her feel as if she had to. With him, it wasn’t a choice; it was a requirement that he had made clear from day one. He held her head and she finished the job as they pulled into her driveway.

  “Go grab you an overnight bag. You’re coming over tonight. I’ll take you shopping in the morning,” he promised. To most girls the offer would be romantic, exciting, but to Gucci it felt like a demand. But instead of standing up for herself she told him to wait a quick minute and ran into the house to retrieve a few items. She was labeled weak minded, not because she wanted to be but because she didn’t know how to be anyway else.

  Gucci avoided his stare and got out of the car with a short good-bye. She was halfway up the walkway when he called her name.

  “Guch!”

  She turned around and walked back to him, standing outside his window. He put his hand out the window and placed ten hundred-dollar bills in her hand. “Pay a bill or something, make sure your moms is straight,” he told her.

  She nodded her head.

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  “Thanks, daddy,” she said as she backpedaled into the house.

  She quickly peeked in on her mother and nodded to the nurse who was on duty.

  “How you doing today, Ma?” she asked as she bent
and kissed her on the forehead.

  Her mother turned her head away and peered at the nurse. “She mean, Gucci.”

  Gucci arched her eyebrows and glared at the nurse. “What did you do to her? Did you hurt her?” she asked directly.

  “No ... no. I just helped her get dressed for the day. She was upset and crying about it, but I would never ...”

  Gucci put her hand up already knowing that her mother was giving the nurse a hard time. She didn’t like to be undressed by strangers. Past ghosts made her wary of everyone but Gucci. “It’s okay, Ma. I’m home now. Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” She was used to taking care of things. Gucci’s mother had relied on her ever since she was a young kid. Significantly disabled, her mother didn’t function well mentally. Southern born she was labeled slow, even the most minute tasks seemed impossible for her to learn and Gucci had always been the glue that held everything together. Gucci was a product of her mother’s rape. A male nurse who had been hired to take care of her mother had molested her for years. The crime wasn’t even discovered until she went into labor with Gucci. There was no way that the sex could have been consensual. Gucci was a product of rape and had been born to a mentally challenged mother. Now here she was at twenty-three, burdened with the task of caring for a woman who had never wanted her in the first place. The man who raped her would whisper in her ear.

  “Ooh this is some good coochie,” he would say.

  So when she gave birth to her baby all she could say was the word coochie, but she was so slow that she mispronounced the word.

  “Gucci ... Gucci,” she said repeatedly. She said the word so much that the nurses put it down on the birth certificate. No, Gucci’s name had nothing to do with fashion. It was a direct reflection of her mother’s rape and it was a ghost that haunted her even to this day.

  If Gucci had the money she would put her mother in an adult facility to make things easier. A professional home could take better care of her mother than Gucci ever could, but with her minimum-wage job at the rehab center she was going nowhere fast. With genetics like hers life wasn’t easy. She inherited an empty head disguised by a beautiful exterior. Her body and face were magnificent, but they were of no value to her. She was simply living, trying to get by as best as she could. Her looks attracted men left and right, but the ones who caught her only took advantage of her. Although she wasn’t labeled mentally challenged, she knew that she wasn’t ever the smartest girl in the room. She knew other girls who looked like she did. They used their assets to get what they wanted. They had established hustles, pulled capers, and put a price tag on their pussies, all of which made life a little easier. Gucci was afraid to grind it out because she knew that she was easily outwitted. So instead she played the back, her confidence too low to ever take the lead.

  “Gucci! Gucci!” her mother shouted from her room. Gucci sighed as she closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the abundance of responsibility that was placed on her. I can’t wait to get out of here. This shit is just too much, she thought. She grabbed her bag and rushed out of the door. She was desperate for a way out and when she finally did escape she would never look back.

  “What is she doing? She never goes home with him,” Raegan exclaimed as they watched Gucci get back in Jamie’s car. “She would pick today of all days.” Raegan looked at Chanel and said, “Let’s just do it another day.”

  “We’re doing it today,” Chanel concluded.

  “Chanel, I work with her every day. She’s cool people. I don’t want—”

  “Nobody’s gonna get hurt, Raegan. We’re just after the money. It’ll be fine,” Chanel said.

  They followed Jamie until he arrived home. He wasn’t smart enough to have a separate stash spot. He broke the number one rule ... DON’T SHIT WHERE YOU EAT ... and although he hustled hard, he was accessible. Now Raegan and Chanel were about to test him. Chanel pulled out two .45s and handed one to Raegan.

  “Where did you get these from?” she asked.

  “A friend of mine hooked me up. I told him I needed them for protection. They’re dirty so if we have to pop a nigga they can’t be traced back to us,” Chanel assured. “You ready?” she asked.

  Raegan nodded as she eyed the house. Her eyes never left it, not even for a second. She hawked it, wanting to make sure she knew exactly what she was getting herself into. When night fell and the shadows of the evening took over the street, the girls got out of the car.

  “Pop the hood to the car,” Raegan said as they got out. “She’ll recognize me. You take the front and I’ll be at the back.” The girls split and as Chanel approached the house she turned the doorknob to see if it was locked. When it didn’t budge, she had no choice but to ring the doorbell. She wore a winter hat and a cashmere scarf that she had wrapped around her face. She looked harmless. Like an around-the-way girl who had gotten herself stranded and was wrapped up to stay warm, despite the Louboutin hooker heels and short designer dress she wore beneath her short trench coat.

  “Who is it?” she heard him yell through the door.

  “Hi ... I was wondering if I could use your phone. My car broke down and I don’t have any cell reception,” she replied.

  Just as she suspected Jamie was soft on a bitch. If a man had come to his doorstep with the exact same problem he would have turned him away, but when he saw the pair of long legs glistening on his doorstep he opened up without hesitation.

  “Thank you sooo much,” she said as she stepped into the house. The only thing that they could see was her eyes.

  Gucci came from out a back room to make her presence known. Scantily clad in her bra and panties she walked into the living room.

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  “Oh my car broke down. I’m just using the phone,” Chanel said. “Oh yeah, and can I ask one more thing? I promise after this I’ll be out of your hair,” she said sweetly as she looked at Jamie seductively.

  “What’s that, ma?”

  “Where’s the money?” Chanel asked as she aimed her gun directly at him.

  Jamie grabbed Gucci and pushed her toward Chanel, then took off for his back door. Thinking he had gotten away, he pushed the door open and ran right into Raegan’s gun.

  “Get in the house,” she ordered as she eased him back inside. He backed up slowly, his eyes searching the kitchen for something he could use to defend himself.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Raegan said. “By the time you make your move, your brains will be all over your kitchen floor.”

  Raegan walked him back into the living room.

  “Fuck.” He grimaced as he shook his head, realizing that it was a setup.

  When Raegan saw Gucci sitting on the couch shaking in fear as Chanel held her at gunpoint she immediately felt bad. She was ready to get this over with.

  “Where’s the money?” she asked.

  “I don’t know what you talking about! What money?” he asked, feigning innocence.

  “You don’t know what we talking about huh?” Chanel asked. She bitch smacked him with the gun. “Don’t play me, Jamie. Where’s the money?”

  “Just tell them!” Gucci shouted.

  Jamie spit blood from his mouth. “Fuck you, bitch.”

  “Go search the house,” Chanel said.

  Raegan ran through the house searching for the bedroom. She tore it up from top to bottom and found nothing.

  “I can’t find it,” Raegan mumbled to herself. She moved from room to room in less than five minutes, but came up short. “Think, Raegan, think,” she said. She ran inside the kitchen and opened up his cabinets. Condiments and jars filled them. She pulled one of the cereal boxes down and opened it up. “Got it.”

  She didn’t give a fuck. She grabbed every cereal box in sight, stuffing it into the empty black duffel bag she carried.

  “Let’s go,” she told Chanel as she rushed back into the living room.

  “Get your ass on the floor and turn around,” Chanel ordered. Jamie didn’t protest and did
as he was told, all the while making threats.

  “I’ma find you bitches,” he stated bitterly.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Chanel replied. She bound his wrists with zip ties and then his feet, hogtying him so that he couldn’t move. “Tie her up,” she told Raegan.

  Gucci watched in horror as Raegan approached her and when she saw the tattoo on her wrist her eyes bugged out in disbelief. She recognized it instantly and when she looked Raegan in the eyes they both knew that Gucci was aware of her identity.

  “Let’s go,” Raegan said as she applied that last zip tie. The girls left out of the front door, ran to their car, and closed the hood before pulling off into the night.

  Chapter Seven

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe we just did that!” Chanel yelled in disbelief as she flew down the interstate.

  Raegan laughed, but nervous jitters filled her stomach. She knew that she had a problem. Gucci knew that she was behind the robbery. Nervous butterflies filled her stomach. “I think she recognized me.”

  “What?” Chanel shot out.

  “There was something about the way she looked at me. Like she couldn’t believe it was me,” Raegan said. “What if she goes to the police?”

  “She won’t,” Chanel said.

  “But what if she does?” Raegan said. “What if she tells ol’ boy it was me?”

  “Now that she might do,” Chanel responded.

  “I have to cut her in,” Raegan concluded.

  “Fuck that. If you cut her in, it’ll be from your own half,” Chanel said seriously. “And there’s no way she can prove it was you. She doesn’t know anything. Don’t get paranoid, girl ... just chill out and think about all that money in that bag. That’ll take all your worries away.”

  The girls sat in the middle of the kitchen floor emptying the cereal boxes. By the time they were done they were $40,000 richer and had a quarter brick in their pockets.