by Yoshe
“Damn, I have to pee,” the tipsy Sheba announced, putting her drink on the table in front of them. “Watch my drink, girl. I’ll be right back.”
Brandi nodded her head and watched as her friend walked toward the restroom. When she turned back around, an extremely attractive gentleman was sitting on the right side of her.
“How you doing, miss?” the man said, extending his hand.
Brandi shook his hand. “I’m fine and yourself?” she asked, surprised that she hadn’t tried to run the man away.
The man smiled. His perfect white teeth gleamed in the dimly lit lounge bar. “I’m fine now,” he replied, licking his lips. “I’m sorry to intrude but I couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous you were from where I was sitting. I just had to come over here and tell you that.”
Brandi didn’t know where the guy came from but he definitely had her attention. “Aww! That’s sweet! What your name?” she politely asked.
“Kane Porter.”
“Oh, okay, Kane Porter! I’m Brandi Wallace.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Brandi. Mmm. That name definitely fits you.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, Kane stood up. “Look, babe, I would love to sit here and talk to you all night but I know that you came out to have a good time. If I give you one of my business cards, can you give me a call tomorrow? Maybe we can do brunch and get to know each other a little better with less noise and lot less company, of course.”
Brandi nodded her head. “Sure, Kane. I don’t have a problem with that.”
Kane went into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and handed her one of his business cards. He waved at her and walked away as quickly as he came over to her.
Just as Kane disappeared into the crowd, Sheba came back from the restroom.
“Brandi!” the excited Sheba said. “Girl, guess who I ran into near the bathroom?”
When Sheba stepped to the side, Sean was standing there. Brandi almost spit out her drink.
“I told him that we were just talking about him today,” Sheba added.
Sean stood there, starting at Brandi and smiling from ear to ear. “What’s up, Brandi? How you doing, babe?” he asked.
Brandi instantly hopped up from her seat to give Sean a big hug. “Hi, Sean! How are you? Long time, no see, man!” She couldn’t believe that she was actually happy to see the man who had broken her heart. It has to be the alcohol.
Sean kissed her on the cheek. “How have you been, sweetheart? Funny I see you here,” he said, yelling over the loud music.
“I know, right? Sheba convinced me to come out.” When she looked in Sheba’s direction, she was dirty dancing with a gentleman a few feet away from where they were standing. “What are you doing out tonight?”
Sean pointed to the VIP area. “Just hanging out with a few of my boys!”
Brandi nodded her head. “Oh, okay! That’s cool. I’m just here, having some drinks with my girl and you know, enjoying the scenery.”
Things began to get awkward between the two and for a few seconds, they were at a loss for words. Sean was the first to break the brief silence by pulling out his cell phone.
“If you don’t mind, can we exchange phone numbers?” he asked. “I would really like to keep in touch with you.”
Brandi was a little skeptical about that but couldn’t resist the pleading look on Sean’s face. That was the same face that used to always win her over.
“I don’t see why we can’t do that,” she said, as they put their numbers into each other’s phones.
After their transaction, Sean kissed Brandi on the cheek again. “It was really good seeing you, sweetheart. I’m gonna definitely give you a call.”
Brandi sighed as Sean walked through the crowd. “Yes, please do that,” she said to herself.
After leaving Brandi, Sean walked back to the VIP area. While he should have been happy to see her, he was having some mixed emotions. The love that he thought was nonexistent had definitely resurfaced once he saw Brandi in person.
Sean grabbed the bottle of tequila from the table and poured himself a full cup. He quickly guzzled it then plopped down on the couch and held his head in his hands. He knew that he couldn’t let temptation get the best of him; he was a married man. But Brandi looked so damn good.
Meanwhile, Rasheed took a moment from the women to check on his friend. He patted Sean on the back. “What’s up, man?” Rasheed asked. “You a’ight?”
“Yo, Rah, I just saw you-know-who, man,” he said, slightly slurring from the effects of the liquor.
“Saw who?” Rasheed asked, with a hint of confusion in his voice.
“I just saw Brandi, man. And damn, she looked so good!”
Rasheed frowned. “What do you mean, you just saw Brandi? Where is she at?” he asked.
“She’s out there in the crowd somewhere,” Sean said, pointing to the packed dance floor.
Rasheed smiled. “Okay, so you saw Brandi, here at the Hive. What happened?”
“Well, I ran into her friend, Sheba, as I was coming out of the bathroom. She was the one who recognized me and walked me right over to Brandi.”
“So how did you feel about seeing her?”
“I’m pissed, man!” Sean said, through clenched teeth. “Here I am, married to Milan and then I run into this bitch!”
“So when are y’all fucking?” asked the curious Rasheed.
Instead of being annoyed by Rasheed’s off-color questioning, Sean rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say anything about fucking her, man!” He took another swig of the tequila. “Now that I’ve seen her, I really don’t think that I’m over that chick, man.”
“I knew that you weren’t over her, man! I knew it!” Rasheed said, pounding his fist into his hands.
At that moment, Kane came over and slid in the seat next to the tipsy Sean. “Just met me a new honey to add to my stable!”
Rasheed snickered. “I bet you did, player!”
Kane sucked his teeth. “Now why a dude gotta be a player, Rah?” he asked, in a slurred voice. “You never know, this broad just might be the one for me!”
Sean snapped out of his daze. “You mean to tell me that a player like you wants a real woman now?” he asked with a look of amazement on his face. “Damn! I’ll have to make a toast to that shit!” he said, slightly raising his cup in the air.
Kane threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Man, fuck you, you fake motherfucker!”
Sean was too deep in his thoughts to reply to Kane’s potshot. All he kept asking himself was one question: is it possible to be in love with two women?
Chapter 5
It was seven o’clock Saturday morning when Dollar pulled up in front of a bodega on Livonia and Georgia Avenues in East New York. Fresh off a road trip from Raleigh, North Carolina, Dollar was in serious need of some relaxation and a cigarette. In the passenger seat of his Infiniti truck was none other than his right-hand man, Peeto. Peeto was fast asleep and snoring like he was at home in his own bed.
After driving all the way back to New York, the worn-out Dollar attempted to wake his sleeping friend. “Yo, man, wake the hell up!” Dollar said, nudging the husky Peeto with his elbow. “You’ve been sleeping ever since we left the Maryland House, man! Why don’t you go in the store and get a brother some smokes?”
The startled Peeto opened his eyes. He spent a few seconds trying to get a clear visual of his surroundings. “Come on, man, I’m sleeping! Go get it yourself,” he said, wiping the drool from the side of his mouth and lying back in the seat.
Dollar gave Peeto another shove and reluctantly got out of his truck. As he headed toward the entrance of the bodega, the drowsy Peeto rolled down the window to try to make a request. Dollar ignored him and walked directly into the store.
Inside of the bodega, Middle Eastern music was blasting. Dollar put his hands over his ears and walked to the back of the store, grabbing an Arizona Sweet Tea out of the freezer. He walked up to the register to
pay for the drink and get a pack of cigarettes.
“Hey, Money Man,” said the young Pakistani co-owner from behind the counter.
“What up, Habib?” Dollar said, his voice smoother than honey. He put the cash on the counter and Habib immediately reached for a pack of Newport 100s to give to him. “What kind of music is that, Beeb? That shit louder than a motherfucker!”
Habib laughed. “This ‘shit’ is on the top ten music list in my country!” Dollar began cracking up. “Anyway, what you been up to, man? Haven’t seen you around in a while,” he asked.
Dollar sighed. He opened the pack and immediately lit up a cigarette on the spot. After the first puff, he felt a whole lot better. “Ain’t shit, man, I’ve been down South with Peeto for a few weeks,” he replied. “What’s been good with you? How’s the biz for you and your fam?”
Habib shrugged. “Shit real slow on this end,” he replied. “One-time keep fucking with us, you know,” he added, referring to the NYPD.
Habib took money from another customer for a purchase. Dollar didn’t speak again until after the person walked out of the store. Habib’s father, Adnan, and two older brothers were into all kinds of illegal ventures. One of them was smuggling guns, which had become a family business. Getting weapons and ammunition was not a problem for Habib and his family of crooks and they were well off because of it.
After the coast was clear, Habib reached behind the counter and pulled out a silencer. He put it in Dollar’s hand.
Dollar inspected the silencer and smiled. “This is what I’m talking about, man! Nice!”
Habib smiled too. “I’m glad you’re pleased, man. Do you wanna buy it?”
Dollar sucked his teeth. “Of course, I’m pleased, Habib. Everybody knows that you Akbars got the best ammo in the hood.” He handed him the silencer back. “But I don’t need nothing right now, man. I’m done with the gun shit.”
Habib shrugged his shoulders and tucked it in a secret compartment behind the counter. “If you ever need something, you know that I got you, Dollar, man. You’re the peoples.”
Dollar gave Habib a pound. “No doubt, Beeb. Listen, I’m out, man. Tell Pop Dukes that I said good looking out but I’m a retired gangster.”
Habib smiled and gave Dollar a head nod. “I feel you, man. That’s a good look. You know how to reach me though.”
“No doubt.”
Dollar walked out of the store and back to his truck. When he got back into the driver’s seat, Peeto was snoring again.
“Damn, you fat motherfucker!” Dollar yelled at his big-bellied friend. “You’re still sleeping, man?”
Peeto lifted his head and eyes instantly popped opened again. He let out a loud yawn while giving Dollar an evil look. “Hell yeah, man! I’m tired as fuck!” he said.
Dollar chuckled and pulled off. He was worn out too and in desperate need of a hot shower. He couldn’t wait to drop Peeto off and head back to his condo in Queens.
As Dollar rode through the potholed streets of East New York, he began to reminisce about the old days. He had robbed more people than he could count on the street corners of Schenck Avenue, Jerome Street, and Hegeman Avenue, to name a few.
Dollar thought about how many people were the victims of his wrath back then. He could practically see the images of their distressed faces and still hear their voices, as they begged for their lives. Some of these people were lucky; they were spared from his murderous rage. Then there was the competition. They were the ones who hated Dollar and his crew. Most of them didn’t get away unscathed.
Dollar’s guns had always been his most loyal allies, his comrades. He couldn’t recall any gun that he ever owned—from .25-caliber Saturday Night Specials to a 9 mm Sigma—ever failing him.
Then one day, after some serious consideration, Dollar decided that it was time for him to hang it up. He thought about all of the felonies that he committed. He picked a certain lifestyle and he had to commit certain crimes in order to survive the rough streets.
Now that he was a forty-two-year-old man, Dollar deemed himself too old to participate in the criminal exploits of his younger years. But due to the exploits of his past, Dollar was a lonely man. He didn’t know who or even how to trust anyone, which was why none of his relationships with women ever materialized. Even his parental skills were questionable. Because he was an orphan growing up and never had a real family, he was unsure of how to relate to his one and only child. Now his fifteen-year-old son was calling another man Daddy.
The only thing that Dollar had to show for all of the mental, physical, and emotional duress over the years was a safe filled with lump sums of money, a condominium in Forest Hills, Queens, and a successful trucking business. To some, those material things may have been enough, but to Dollar, he still felt unfulfilled. He would trade it all just to have someone special to share it with.
Dollar stopped at a red light. While he waited for the light to change, he began thinking about his deceased friends. He smiled to himself as he relived some of the good times that they all had together growing up; life was just one big party for them back in those days. But that was a long time ago and life was not about fun and games anymore.
And then there was that secret. It was a secret that had been eating him up for the past seventeen years.
In the late eighties and early nineties, the streets of East New York, Brooklyn, was popping. Even the 75th Precinct patrol officers were corrupt back then, leaving the residents of the community with no real protection. They lived in fear for their safety every day. During this violent era, one of Dollar’s most loyal friends, twenty-one-year-old Gator, was gunned down and murdered in 1993. It was then that he, Maleek, and Peeto decided that they had to leave Brooklyn and move out of town; things were getting too hot in New York.
By the early part of 1994, Dollar and Peeto were more than ready to desert the concrete jungle. A move to the South sounded perfect for the trio of friends. After all, they felt there wasn’t any reason for them to remain in New York City anyway; they had no real family there. On the other hand, Maleek had plenty of family. For one, he had two children. He had a seven-year-old daughter and a young son by the name of Shamari. But for some reason or another, Maleek still seemed very anxious to leave his children and family behind. And he did just that without one iota of guilt.
His children weren’t the only ones who were left behind. Brandi, who was his girlfriend at the time and the mother of his son, didn’t go along for the journey.
Back then, the twenty-year-old Brandi was a pretty girl from Bedford-Stuyvesant who was tough as nails. At least, Dollar thought she was. She was definitely a sight for sore eyes and the fact that she could roll with the best of them made her even more appealing to Dollar. But upon seeing how she was head over heels for Maleek, Dollar began yearning for that kind of love too.
Dollar saw how Maleek disrespected Brandi on a regular basis and he didn’t like it one bit. But because Maleek was his friend, he quietly remained on the sidelines, watching how everything went down between the couple. During some their physical altercations, Dollar would come to Brandi’s defense. His urge to protect Brandi made Dollar realize that he was slowly but surely falling in love with her. And if Brandi was with it back then, he wouldn’t have had one problem with crossing Maleek just to be with her. But to his disappointment, Brandi only looked at him as a big brother.
The three friends decided that they would take off to the state of Virginia. Once they were there, they made a home for themselves in Virginia Beach. In the meantime, they took the Portsmouth, Norfolk, and Hampton drug trade by storm, eventually making a name for themselves.
It was late 1994, during the Norfolk State University homecoming, when Dollar finally was introduced to Smokey Wilson, a Virginia native who was also heavy hitter in the drug game. He had the Peninsula on lockdown; anything coming in and out of those parts had to be done with Smokey’s consent or pay a heavy price. Dollar and Peeto formed a great rapport with Smokey, who w
as more about making money than beefing with the Northerners. But the jealous-hearted Maleek did not click with man. And Maleek’s city-boy arrogance and exaggerated confidence did not sit well with a laidback country bumpkin like Smokey.
That was when Dollar’s feelings about Maleek began taking a turn for the worse. Everything about Maleek started to annoy the serious-minded Dollar. Maleek’s flashy personality and bad habits became a serious issue, as well; even the sound of his voice became bothersome.
As the months and days went on, it became harder for the ornery Dollar to hide his contempt for the person who at one time he considered a brother. He realized that Maleek’s attitude wasn’t new; the man had been feeling himself ever since the influx of money started flowing. And Dollar felt that it was only a matter of time before the younger Maleek turned his grandiose attitude against him.
One day, during the spring of 1995, Dollar and Maleek were cruising on Interstate 64 in Norfolk. Brandi called Maleek on his cellular car phone while Dollar remained silent and listening to the pathetic telephone conversation. He shook his head as he overheard Brandi’s desperate pleas for Maleek to be a part of their son’s life. But unfortunately, the self-absorbed Maleek wasn’t having any of the guilt trips that she tried to lay on him.
“Maleek, I need for you to come home! Shamari has a slight touch of pneumonia and I don’t know what to do!” Brandi yelled into the speaker phone. “Please, your son needs you! I don’t know why you’re acting like this!”
Maleek turned on the signal to pull over on the side of the highway. He looked at Dollar and made a pointing gesture at the phone.
“This sorry bitch is getting on my nerve,” he whispered to Dollar. Then he got back to his phone call. “Yo, bitch, fuck you and that fucking baby!” he yelled at her. “If you were any kind of mother, that little motherfucker wouldn’t be sick, now would he? And fuck is you calling me for? I’m out of town getting money and I ain’t coming back to Brooklyn no time soon! So deal with it, bitch!”
“Why are you talking about our son like that, Maleek? He’s your got damn son, too!”