The Game Don't Change

by Mazaradi Fox

  Ten minutes later, the girls hopped out of the shower looking like three porn stars. DeMarco had a fetish for baby oil on fat asses; his dick stood up like an arrow.

  “Girl, look at his tattoos,” Kee-Kee whispered to Tia.

  “So this is what we gonna to do for you, daddy. We gonna play doctor and fix your problem,” Michelle said as she started rubbing baby oil all over DeMarco’s body.

  “What y’all lookin at me for? Y’all not gonna help me?”

  “Hell yeah,” Kee-Kee said. She was always down for whatever.

  “Here, pour some in my hand,” Tia said, then started rubbing DeMarco’s dick and the top of his stomach. Michelle began sucking it and Kee-Kee was licking the side of it like a lollipop. After fifteen minutes of them tag-teaming his dick, DeMarco laid Michelle out and began fucking her pussy slowly.

  “Give it to me, daddy. Give it to me harder. Show these bitches why you my daddy,” she moaned.

  “Come on, give me some!” Kee-Kee couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Pass me that cup.” DeMarco took two more sips and then started fucking Kee-Kee. As soon as DeMarco put his dick in her, she started cumming.

  “You like that?” he said, laughing as he glanced over at Tia, who was looking a little lost. “Oh, you thought I was gonna forget about you? Hell no I wasn’t,” he said to her.

  Tia wanted DeMarco to hit it from the back while Michelle kissed her and Kee-Kee ate her pussy.

  “This what I’m talkin about,” DeMarco said, feeling like he was in heaven.

  Michelle was showing him she was a real bitch, and her homegirls were down by all means.

  DeMarco soon had Tia damn near going through the headboard.

  “Okay, enough, I can’t take it nomore,” Tia said as she came all over DeMarco’s dick.

  * * *

  Jazz, Cash, and Rah were in the club popping bottles like they’d won the championship game. Chicks from all the local towns were all over them.

  “Damn, Jazz, this is the life,” Rah said to his older brother.

  “We gotta get money like DeMarco and Cash,” Jazz replied while getting a lap dance.

  “Man, I’m tryna fuck somethin!”

  “Man, you don’t know where you at? Follow me.” Cash took Jazz and Rah to the Boom Boom Room. “Which one do you want? Black, Chinese, white, or Indian?”

  “I want her,” Rah said, pointing to a white chick.

  “Can I help you, sweetheart? What would you like?”

  “Shit, I’ll start off with a blow job.” Rah couldn’t believe what money could buy.

  “Wow, we gotta try that again tomorrow,” Rah said when they exited the club an hour later. “But now we gotta check on DeMarco.”

  * * *

  DeMarco and the girls were out like a light when Cash and Rah knocked on the door to make sure everything was good. DeMarco woke up only to say that he would holla at them in the morning, then went back to sleep.

  The boys stayed up all night talking about their episodes.

  “Man, we better get some sleep. You know that nigga DeMarco is gonna wake up on some other shit,” Cash said.

  The next morning, DeMarco showered and brushed his teeth before agreeing to take everyone to the mall.

  “Light that up, Michelle, and pull something out for me to wear today. I’m tryna do the Polo sweatsuit with these Jordan’s,” DeMarco said.

  They bought so much shit at the mall that even the security guards were following them around the place like they were rock stars.

  Kee-Kee whispered to the girls, “Shit, this is the life I wanna live.”

  Michelle looked back at the girls and said, “I told you! We in dis bitch!”

  “Daddy, check this out. Tia and Kee-Kee know these guys they fuckin from Miami who be holdin a lot of bricks,” Michelle said.

  The girls couldn’t wait to get back to the room to put DeMarco on to some niggas they knew who were trafficking drugs from Miami to North Carolina. Leaving DeMarco was the last thing on their minds; they were all in it for the long haul.

  “When they pick up, how much coke they got and where the stash houses at?” DeMarco asked.

  * * *

  After the girls broke it down to him, he couldn’t believe how many bricks they said the niggas had. He thought surely they must have a Mexican connect. Once DeMarco had the info, he devised a plan that was sure to work.“Y’all know what to do, so don’t fuck this up! I’ll call y’all when we ready.”

  Later that week, Rah and Jazz jumped on the highway and met DeMarco with his team. Just as planned, they ran down on the stash houses while the dudes were across town and caught them for ten bricks.

  As soon as DeMarco got back from the jux, Tia’s phone started ringing.

  “Hello, who dis?”

  “Have you seen my crazy-ass sista?” Black yelled into the phone.

  “Hold on,” she said, passing the phone to Michelle.

  “Where the fuck you at? I almost got killed because you fuckin wit that nigga DeMarco at your house!” he screamed.

  “DeMarco?” Michelle said.

  “A’ight, keep playin stupid. Where the fuck you at? I’m not askin you again.”

  “I’m out wit Tia and Kee-Kee. I’ll meet you at ma’s house,” she replied.

  “Yeah, well, hurry up, because you got niggas thinkin that nigga kidnapped you or somethin.”

  “Boy, bye. Ain’t nobody kidnapped me. I’m on my way.”

  From the look on Michelle’s face, DeMarco knew she wasn’t going to set him up. Plus, she’d just put him on to ten bricks.

  “So what you want me to do?” she asked.

  “This what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna drop y’all off at Kee-Kee’s house and when y’all get finished, hit me up. Remember, y’all on the team now, so silence is golden,” DeMarco said.

  * * *

  When they pulled up to Michelle’s mother’s house, her brother and his whole team were waiting on her. Michelle took a deep breath and got out of the car.

  “Where you been? I told you stop fucking with Kee-Kee and Tia!”

  Smack.

  Black hit Michelle so hard she saw birds and stars at the same time. She kneeled down because she thought she was going to pass out.

  “If I was gonna help you, I’m definitely not helpin your punk ass now!” she shouted.

  “Look what this nigga did to me! And he shot Man-Man. You better help us find that nigga.”

  “I don’t know where he at,” she said.

  “Shoot, that’s the problem with y’all lil’ fast-ass girls, lettin niggas come from out of town and take over shit.”

  “Come on, girl.” Michelle jumped into Tia’s car and they quickly drove off.

  “I hate that nigga,” Michelle said, as she wiped her tears away.

  * * *

  About a week later, DeMarco’s phone rang. “Yo, wassup?” he asked.

  “DeMarco, where you been? I called you over a week ago already. I got it set up wit your lawyer for you to turn yourself in,” India said.

  “Turn myself in?” he said, as he thought about not getting out if his escape from Tryon showed up.

  “You’re my baby. You know I ain’t gonna leave you in there, plus I’m not trying to lose that good ol’ dick. They’re gonna have your bail at $150,000. I already spoke to your aunt, she’s gonna sign for you and we’ll get you right out.”

  “So when is all of this supposed to happen?” DeMarco asked.

  “I tell you what, I’ll call your lawyer and hit you back.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  In no time, DeMarco was back on the streets just like India said. He felt untouchable since the escape didn’t show up and it was his first time getting locked up out of state.

  Jazz and Rah stared at the bricks all night like they were presents under a Christmas tree. DeMarco’s phone started ringing; it was Michelle.

  “Daddy, where you at? Are you a’ight? I was calling you all day.”

  �
��I’m good. I had to turn myself in for that bullshit.”

  “Can you believe that bitch-ass brotha of mines had the nerve to slap me in front of his pussy-ass friends?” she said, with anger in her voice.

  “He did what? Oh, don’t worry, he really fucked up now.”

  “Come get us, daddy, I’m at Kee-Kee’s aunt’s house.”

  “Cool, I got you. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  But DeMarco first had to stop and check on his Auntie Sheena.

  * * *

  “Boy, is you a’ight?” Aunt Sheena asked, as he walked through the door.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “I have been waiting to see you. I was just telling your uncle that you have to be careful down here.”

  Auntie Sheena was from New York too, but had moved to North Carolina years earlier.

  “Well, some boy keep callin you named Skip or somethin like that. And what did I tell you about givin people my number? You know you don’t live here?!”

  Auntie Sheena didn’t play about people coming or calling her house. Her favorite line was, Ain’t gonna have nobody run up in my house, but if they do, I got somethin for their ass. Auntie Sheena was gangster!

  “A’ight, I got you,” DeMarco said.

  “I’m dead-ass serious, boy, don’t play with me.”

  DeMarco gave his aunt a hug, kiss, and passed her a knot as big as Patrick Ewing’s left foot. Then he picked up his phone and dialed Skip’s number.

  “Who dis? DeMarco?”

  “And you know,” DeMarco replied.

  “Man, I heard about you way upstate! Boy, you the talk of the jails. Niggas said you doin your thing. When you comin to get a nigga?” Skip asked.

  “Me and my niggas got this shit on lock-down here!”

  “I want in!”

  “Did you see Bizzy?”

  “Yeah, I saw him last week at parole.”

  “Yeah, niggas still on papers?”

  “Man, fuck all that, I’m down there. Them niggas gotta catch me if they can.”

  “Okay, get at Bizzy and I’m gonna tell Killer C to put you on a plane tomorrow.”

  “A’ight, bet, we there.”

  DeMarco needed real niggas with him because he knew that from now on, there was no turning back.

  * * *

  The next day they caught the plane and arrived in North Carolina a couple hours later.

  “Damn, my nigga, it looks crazy down here.”

  “Shit, did they starve you in the joint? You skinny as fuck,” DeMarco said to Skip.

  “DeMarco, you know I don’t get fat. I’ve been skinny all my life.”

  “What’s the verdict, Bizzy?” DeMarco asked.

  “Man, you know me.”

  Bizzy wasn’t the type who talked a lot, but he was down for whatever. DeMarco started to put them onto what was going on and how things were run down there. “I got a spot where y’all can rest. Tomorrow will be y’all first day on the job.”

  * * *

  The money was coming so fast that Skip and Bizzy had to buy a notepad to keep track of the numbers they were bringing in.

  “Who are these pretty young ladies?” Skip asked DeMarco.

  “These are my besties. If you fuck with them, you got problems with me.”

  “Nah, I’m just saying, they are fine as wine. How y’all doin?”

  They just looked at him and rolled their eyes.

  The streets were definitely talking now. The whole area knew about DeMarco and his crew, and to top it off, he had half the niggas and bitches in pocket. The clubs wouldn’t jump off until DeMarco and his crew showed up. Bottle after bottle, they were buying it up. Sometimes the club owners had to go to other venues in the area to get more bottles. Those half-ass hustlers didn’t have shit on these Queens niggas. They even had police trying to get on their team. See, Skip was always a hustler and that was right up DeMarco’s alley. He came down with that dub-up shit: when you bought a hundred, he would give you two hundred, so he changed the game and this made him that nigga. Skip had a chick named Kai from New York who taught him the game for real, but she had to cut him off—she said he wasn’t ready for a real chick like her. Man, that chick was a keeper! The nigga lost his mind fucking up with her. One time he lied and told her he’d bought her a ring. DeMarco ran to Zale’s Jewelers and bought it for her because he knew that with her around, Skip would be on his A-game.

  Niggas don’t miss a good thing until it’s gone, DeMarco thought to himself. Shit, I’m glad I gotta chick like that, don’t no shorty come before LaLa. Ain’t nothing better than a real bitch. Skip couldn’t wait to go back to New York and show the hood how he came up, but DeMarco had him chill because Skip was his man and he didn’t want him to get knocked.

  DeMarco and his crew started getting larger than large. Niggas were scared to fuck with anybody else but them. If they didn’t have the work right then, they would wait for them to get it. All the niggas who grew up in the area were sick besides the ones down with DeMarco and his crew; the fiends and young hustlers wouldn’t buy weight from nobody but them.

  * * *

  Black couldn’t stand DeMarco. He was taking money from them and he had popped him and his man. So, he decided to call a meeting with the local hustlers that weren’t fucking with DeMarco and his crew.

  “Here’s how it’s gonna go down,” Black explained. “We got to get this nigga DeMarco and his guys out our town. We gonna start robbin all of this nigga’s workers, and nobody gettin work from nobody else except me. But give me a week,” he concluded as he and Man-Man walked away with two big-ass niggas.

  No questions asked, Man-Man knew just what to do. He gassed the black van up and jumped on the highway. Black had some cousins from Connecticut who were gangsters.

  * * *

  After a long drive, they finally made it to Connecticut and pulled up into his cousins’ driveway.

  “Oh shit! Big Black, wassup? What the fuck you doin up here?” said one of the cousins. He had like twenty niggas standing around him like he was Scarface and shit.

  Black and his cousin walked inside the house.

  “Damn, nigga, tell me what’s goin on. You good?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DeMarco had to take a trip to New York because LaLa was beefing about how he hadn’t seen or spent any time with their newborn daughter Nia, since she was born.

  “Guess who’s home!” DeMarco called out as he entered the crib.

  LaLa looked at him and whispered, “Shhhh! You gonna wake the baby up.”

  “Come here, girl, show me some love.”

  “You come here,” LaLa said with a smile.

  “How you and my baby girl been doin?”

  “Nigga, please, she in the room. Go and check on her yourself. She looks just like your crazy ass.”

  DeMarco walked into the bedroom and saw his pretty angel laying in her crib sound asleep. He took her out and laid her onto the bed next to him.

  LaLa had that Lil’ Kim look and older guys were on her heels. Plus, she showed DeMarco how to do his own thing, so money was nothing to her. Not saying she didn’t want the paper, but loyalty was her shit. LaLa had always dreamed of moving out of the projects, but DeMarco didn’t want her to. Since he was always running the streets, he didn’t want her and the baby at his house by themselves. He figured it was better if she moved back home with her moms.

  “Get up, DeMarco, let’s go get somethin to eat. I wanna go take family photos at Sears and the baby needs some individual pictures too.” LaLa was young, but she was all about family.

  They headed out to Green Acres Mall and must have taken at least a hundred pictures. They even bought the small circle picture to go inside a locket. He was so happy to be spending time with LaLa and his baby girl for the first time. DeMarco loved the shit out of his daughter and always wanted to make LaLa happy because he knew without LaLa putting him onto so much shit, he wouldn’t be where he was.

  “Come on, let’s
go to Macy’s. I saw some stuff I wanna get for the baby.”

  DeMarco wanted to buy everything he saw for LaLa and his girl.

  “DeMarco, ain’t that Killer C and some chick in Foot Locker?” LaLa asked.

  “Oh shit, girl, you still got that hawk eye!”

  They walked over to where the couple was standing, looking at the sneakers on display.

  “Nigga, run your shit!” DeMarco said playfully to Killer C. “I could have had your ass.”

  “Oh shit! What’s good, my brotha from another motha? When you got back?”

  DeMarco looked at him and smirked. “I told you, I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Yeah, but wassup, though?”

  “Ain’t shit, my nigga, just came to get a few things.”

  “Damn, LaLa, you don’t play any games with all those bags. I haven’t seen you since DeMarco left.”

  “Yeah, I’m in the house taking care of my baby.”

  “Yo, she a keeper, DeMarco. Let me see little Boops. She gettin big, yo. She looks like her daddy.”

  “You mean just like her motha,” LaLa said and rolled her eyes.

  Killer C called the salesperson over and asked him if they had Baby Jordans.

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Well, give me two pairs of every Jordan that you have for my goddaughter.”

  “You mean two pairs of each?”

  “Yeah, did I stutter?” he replied.

  It took a few minutes for the clerk to gather all the shoes and ring them up. “Okay, that will be $2,100.28.”

  “Here you go, and keep the change,” Killer C said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You welcome. Just remember my face next time.”

  “No problem, I got you.”

  “By the way, who this pretty shorty with you?” DeMarco asked.

  “Oh, this new joint is Candy, she from Uptown. You know me. I don’t do the Queens thing.” Killer C always felt like he needed to have something exclusive. Plus, he didn’t trust the chicks from Queens or Brooklyn. “I’m sayin, what’s your next move DeMarco?”

  “I’m gonna spend some quality time with the family, but I’ll get at you in the a.m.”

  “Okay, cool.”