Lucky quickly returned from the back carrying a garbage bag halfway filled with money. “How many?” he asked, quickly reloading his TEC-9.
“About nine, ten,” Quick replied as he aimed his 9 mm toward the door.
“Let’s go out the back door,” Lucky suggested, and him and Quick dipped out the back door just as Frank’s goons were entering the front door.
Once the two made it outside, they sprinted through the grass until they reached the hooptie.
“Here. You drive.” Lucky tossed the keys over to Quick as he hopped in the passenger seat.
Quick got behind the wheel, turned on the car, and gunned the engine. As they drove past the house, Lucky hung out the window and squeezed the trigger on his TEC-9 and shot up the front of the house as the hooptie disappeared into the night.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” Lucky said with a smile. He knew the garbage bag in between his legs held at least ten grand. Going back for the money was risky, but he felt he did what needed to be done.
Quick parked in front of Lucky’s apartment and turned the car off. “We did it,” he said, turning to face Lucky.
“This is only the beginning,” Lucky said, and the two men got out the car and went upstairs to count up their earnings.
“Why Me?”
Tiffany kept on glancing up at the clock, with only thirty more minutes left until her shift was over. Today wasn’t one of her better days. Not only was her feet hurting, but her period also decided to show up today, on top of her not knowing where she was going to rest her head. She might not have known where she was going to stay for the night, but the one thing she did know was, she wasn’t going to stay with Blake, not one more night.
Tiffany was on her way back to the kitchen when the manager Mr. Richardson tapped her on the shoulder. “You free to go home early tonight,” he told her, and he disappeared in his office.
Tiffany smiled from ear to ear as she clocked out, grabbed her coat, and headed out the door. At first she found herself speed-walking, until she remembered that she no longer had to rush anymore.
She went inside the train station to keep warm as she tried to think about where she was going to stay for the night. “Fuck it!” she said to herself as she hopped on the train. She didn’t have any place else to go but to her mother’s house. That was the second-to-last place she wanted to go, but what other choices did she have?
When her stop came, Tiffany stepped off the train and power-walked toward her mother’s building to get out of the cold. As she walked up to the building, she noticed the regular local drug dealers standing around, looking cool and cold at the same time. They all spoke to her as she entered the building.
As usual the elevator wasn’t working, so Tiffany had to take the steps. She reached her mother’s floor, exited the staircase, and headed toward her mother’s door. Tiffany took a deep breath as she stood in front of her mother’s door for a few seconds before she finally knocked on the door.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Tiffany heard some feet shuffling on the other side of the door, followed by locks being unlocked. Then the door swung open. Brenda stood in the doorway, looking her one and only daughter up and down. “Fuck you doing here?”
“I need to stay here for a month or two.”
“Damn!” Brenda huffed. “I don’t get a hello, hi you doing, or nothing?”
“Hello, Mother,” Tiffany said dryly.
Just by looking at her mother, Tiffany could tell she was high and drunk. Tiffany and Brenda fought like cats and dogs, the main reason she had moved out at such a young age.
“Now how long you said you need to stay here for?” Brenda asked, thumping her ashes from her cigarette right on the floor.
“Just a month or two. Please?”
Brenda examined her daughter’s face for a second. “Hmm. I see that man of yours still beating yo’ ass.” She stepped to the side so Tiffany could enter.
“Thank you,” Tiffany said as she entered her mother’s house. She knew her mother would never let her hear the end of this, but it was either deal with her mother’s bullshit or get her ass beat by Blake. She thought about staying at her mother house and quickly told herself, “It could always be worse.”
“Fuck you standing there like a lost puppy for?” Brenda said loudly. “You know where your room is,” she said as she returned to her company, who sat at the kitchen table playing a game of spades while The Temptations hummed through the radio’s speakers.
Tiffany walked down the narrow hallway until she reached the room she had called hers once upon a time. Inside the room was a twin-sized mattress that laid on the floor, a dresser, and an old-school nineteen-inch TV that sat on top of the dresser.
Tiffany sat her purse down and went back out into the living room. “Excuse me” Tiffany said.
Brenda and her company, who had cocaine, alcohol, and cigarettes resting openly on the table, looked at look her like she had lost her mind.
“Can I help you?” Brenda said, rolling her eyes.
“Where do you keep your sheets so I can make the bed?”
“Sheets?” Brenda echoed, and she laughed way louder than she had to. “I don’t got no sheets. I don’t know if you can tell or not, but I don’t have a lot of overnight company.” Brenda returned her focus back on the card game.
Tiffany walked back to her room, cut the TV on, and laid down on the naked mattress that rested on the floor. She looked around the room and silently began to cry. Her life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Some nights she would just pray to God and ask Him why He had decided to make her life on earth a living hell. “Fuck this!” she said to herself as she wiped her tears away. “If it ain’t a way, then I’m just going to have to make a way,” she told herself. The only problem was, she didn’t even know where to begin.
Quick looked up and down the block for any signs of police as he made a hand-to-hand sale right out in the street. It had been two weeks since the hit on Frank, and him and Lucky had yet to hear anything from Turf or his peoples.
“I’m telling you,” Quick began. “We better hear from this nigga Turf soon, or else.”
“Or else what?” Lucky laughed as he watched his breath fog up in the cold. “All we can do is wait. At least we got that money from Frank’s crib.” Lucky was trying to be cool about the situation, but inside he felt the same Quick did. Only, he had a little more patience. “Turf is a man of his word, so he’ll show up,” he said, speaking in faith.
Quick was about to finish complaining, when Lucky and him saw a black Escalade pull up. Whoever was in the tinted vehicle didn’t bother to get out. Instead, they just beeped the horn, signaling for Quick and Lucky to make their way over to the vehicle. Quick and Lucky made their way over to the truck. Before they even reached the truck, the sounds of Young Jeezy could be heard blasting from the Escalade. The driver’s window slid down, and Quick saw Wolf sitting behind the wheel, and Major Pain sitting over in the passenger seat, bobbing his head to the beat.
“Get in,” Wolf said as the tinted window rolled back up.
Quick and Lucky hopped in the backseat, happy to finally be out of the brutal cold weather.
“Damn! Y’all niggas been out there all day?” Major Pain asked with an I-don’t-know-how-y’all-do-it look on his face.
“Trap or die,” Quick replied, rubbing his hands together. He was excited to finally be about to meet Turf. He had heard plenty of stories about the man, but now he was about to see if he was what everybody said he was.
“Well, today is y’all lucky day,” Major Pain told them. He lit up a blunt. “Welcome to the family.”
“Welcome to the Family”
Wolf parked the Escalade in front of a church and let the engine die. Quick and Lucky both looked at one another, but neither man said a word. They followed Wolf and Major Pain inside the church and upstairs to the last door on the right.
Wolf knocked on the door, and seconds later a big seven-foot, 300-p
ound, all-muscle monster answered the door.
“Damn, nigga!” Wolf huffed. “Get ya big ugly ass out the doorway,” he joked as the foursome entered the nice-sized office.
“Fuck you! You peanut-head muthafucka!” Goliath capped back.
Quick and Lucky stepped inside the office and saw a man that favored the rapper Plies standing over in the corner on the phone. The man they called Turf wore a white long johns shirt with three chains around his neck and a Reds fitted cap on his head.
A Spanish girl sat behind the desk. Only, she wasn’t dressed like a secretary, but more like a stripper.
“Yo, I’ma call you back.” Turf hung up the phone and turned his attention on Quick and Lucky. “So these the two that took care of that old head for me?” he asked, already knowing the answer to his question. He walked over and gave both Quick and Lucky dap, looking each man in the eye. “I appreciate what y’all did for me.”
“It’s nothing,” Quick replied.
Turf smiled. “I could use a few good men on the team.” He paused to pour himself a drink. “I don’t fuck with no bitch-ass, scary niggas, so if y’all ready to get busy, then y’all in the right place.”
“We hungry,” Lucky said. “So whatever you need us to do, just let us know.”
“It’s a lot of money out here, gentlemen,” Turf said, looking at both men. “Y’all ready to get it?”
“No doubt,” Lucky replied with a smile. He knew Turf had found the right men for the job.
Turf was about to take a sip from his glass when he looked up at a smiling Lucky. He asked, “Something funny?”
“I’m just happy to be a part of the team,” Lucky explained. “That’s all.”
“Good,” Turf said as he turned toward Goliath. “Pay these brothers so we can get up out of here.”
Goliath dug down in his pocket, pulled out a ten-thousand-dollar stack, and tossed it to Quick. “Make sure y’all don’t spend that all in one spot,” he said with a smirk.
“We’ll try not to.” Quick smiled, happy to finally have a large amount of money in his possession. He quickly divided the stack of money and handed Lucky his half.
“I hope you guys like to party,” Turf said.
Once everyone was outside, Turf and Goliath hopped in a Range Rover, while Wolf, Major Pain, Quick, and Lucky hopped back in the Escalade.
Quick sat in the backseat, a relaxed look on his face. He was just thankful that he could make money and not have to stand out on the corner anymore, especially in this type of weather. Whatever needed to be done, he was going to make sure it got done, so that paper could keep coming in. For the rest of the ride, he just stared out the window thinking about his future and how he was going to handle his money wisely.
Lucky nudged his partner with his elbow. “You a’ight?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Quick answered as the Escalade pulled up in the parking lot right across the street from the club.
Before Wolf and Major Pain hopped out the Escalade, they made sure they were strapped. “Y’all niggas need heat?” Wolf asked over his shoulder.
“Nah, we got our own shit.” Quick patted his waistline. Him and Lucky never left home without their straps, just in case anything ever jumped off. They preferred to be safe rather than sorry.
When the crew entered the club, immediately Quick and Lucky felt like celebrities, from all the attention they were getting just because they were with Turf.
“I might can get used to this,” Lucky yelled over the loud music with a smile. Even the way the women in the club looked at him was different; he loved the attention.
Quick took a seat in the VIP section and just watched Turf receive all the attention.
“Yo, come here,” Turf called Quick over. “You see all this?” he asked, waving at the crowd. “Get used to this. I appreciate what you and ya boy Lucky did for me.”
“One hand wash the other,” Quick replied.
Turf grabbed a bottle of Coconut Cîroc out of the bucket of ice and filled two champagne flutes up to the rim. “I got big plans for you and ya man,” he said, handing one of the flutes to Quick. “I just need to make sure y’all ready to get y’all hands dirty.”
“I don’t think you understand.” Quick took a sip of his drink. “Me and my man Lucky been putting in work for years, and we been doing it for free. Now that we going to be getting paid for it now, you don’t have nothing to worry about.” Quick assured him.
Just as bad as Turf needed Quick and Lucky, they needed the money, so it was an even trade.
“Good.” Turf smiled. “Wolf and Major Pain are the two best soldiers I’ve ever met in my life, but”—he paused so he could take a sip—“we all starting to get a little hot, so some new faces are much needed.”
People out in the streets knew not to mess with Turf, and they definitely knew not to mess with his money. Turf had put in way more than enough work, and now it was finally starting to catch up with him. Every cop and detective had him on their list, and was gunning for him. They wanted his head on a platter, but Turf was prepared to die before that day ever came.
For the rest of the night, the crew just got their party on like it was no tomorrow. Turf had his twenty-four-hour bodyguard Goliath go out in the crowd and pick out twenty of the prettiest women in the club and bring them back to their VIP section.
After about four drinks, Quick was feeling nice. A brown-skin woman with dreads sat next to him, keeping him company. The woman had a pretty face, but Quick was more concerned about the woman’s huge ass that looked like it was going to rip through the black spandex she wore.
“Yo, what you said your name was again?” Quick asked with a light slur.
“Ivy.” The woman grabbed another bottle of Coconut Cîroc and refilled her and Quick’s glass.
“Damn! You must be trying to take advantage of me tonight,” Quick said, openly flirting with the woman. He could tell that Ivy was feeling him, and he too was also liking what he was seeing.
From what she had told him, she was a teacher, she had her own crib, she was single, and most importantly, she didn’t have a baby daddy or a crazy ex-boyfriend. Seeing he didn’t have a place to live since Kat had put him out, Ivy looked like she was going to be Quick’s next move.
“What’s going on over here?” Lucky said, coming toward the couch where Quick and Ivy sat. “And who is this?” He reached for Ivy’s hand.
“This is my new friend Ivy,” Quick replied with a smile.
Lucky looked Ivy up and down for a second before he replied, “Good money,” he said as he gave Quick a pound.
As the two stood talking, Major Pain walked over holding two iced-out chains in his hand. “Y’all are officially a part of the team now,” he said, handing Quick and Lucky both a chain.
Quick smiled as he examined the iced-out cross that rested at the end of the chain before he put it around his neck.
Major Pain gave Quick and Lucky both a pound followed by a hug.
“So,” Ivy said once Quick sat back down, “what do you guys do for a living?”
“Well, you know,” Quick began, “we got a few businesses popping, and we’ve been expanding a lot lately,” he said, trying to sound like a legit businessman.
Ivy laughed loudly. “You don’t have to lie to me, Quick. I’m not one these bougie booshi chicks. I’ve heard what Turf does for a living, and I don’t have a problem with that,” she told him. “Shit. These crackers ain’t giving us shit, and a real man ain’t just gon’ just sit around broke. So, trust me, I totally understand how you live.”
All Quick could do was smile after that last comment. He loved strong black women, and Ivy appeared to be just that. That alone only made him want her more.
Just as Quick was about to reply to what Ivy had just said, he saw Kat walk up in the VIP section headed in his direction. He sighed loudly, knowing some dumb shit was soon to follow her arrival.
“Why the fuck you ain’t been answering my calls?” Kat said loudly as she
stood in front of Quick. Her eyes briefly took in his company then came back to him.
“Fuck is you talking about?” Quick huffed, not wanting to be bothered with this foolishness right now.
“Oh, what, you too busy to answer my calls now?” Kat asked as she turned and looked down at Ivy. “Is this bitch the reason why my calls are being ignored?”
Ivy chuckled at the ignorant woman that stood before her. She took her hand and began rubbing the back of Quick’s head as she smiled back at Kat.
Quick knew Kat was about to flip the fuck out, so he hopped up off the couch. “Yo, why you sweating me?” he said in an annoyed tone.
“Why I’m sweating you?” Kat said, her face crumpled up. Her hand quickly shot out and slapped Quick across his face for trying to play her.
“Bitch!” Quick growled as he grabbed Kat by the shirt.
Before shit got out of hand, Goliath came over and escorted Kat out of the VIP area while she cursed at the top of her lungs, struggling to free herself from the big man’s grip.
“Sorry about that,” Quick apologized to Ivy, as Lucky and Wolf broke down laughing. He was embarrassed by the way Kat had showed out.
“It’s okay,” Ivy said over the rim of her champagne flute. “If those the kind of women you used to dealing with, then you going to love me,” she said confidently.
Quick smiled. He could tell just from how Ivy reacted when Kat came over acting up that she was a good, mature woman.
“I’m feeling your hair.” Quick reached out and touched a few of Ivy’s locks.
“Thank you,” Ivy replied with a smile.
The DJ then suddenly directed everyone’s attention to the front door. “My main man Sosa is in the building!” he announced over the mic.
Everyone’s eyes then went toward the entrance. Sosa entered the club wearing an all-black, short-cut mink with the hood over his head, making it hard to see his face, and behind him was his ten-man entourage. Sosa was close friends with one of the rappers from Dipset, so he was looked at as a celebrity, when really he was nothing but a drug dealer.
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