When It All Falls Down 3 - Somebody is Gonna Die: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady)

by Tamicka Higgins

  “Man, you might just have to let that go,” Jackson said. He hadn’t wanted to say it, but he felt as if it were necessary. “I mean, I hate to say it, but it’s the truth.”

  “Let go of what?” Tramar asked. “You talkin’ bout me lettin’ go of my son and shit? Nigga, what the fuck is you talkin’ about with that shit?”

  Seeing that Tramar was clearly angry, Jackson watched his tone as he continued. “I’m just sayin’ that you might have to let that go because if you try to stay in his life, especially with the authorities following you and stuff, you could wind up hurting him more in the long run, especially if you get caught up while he with you or somethin’. I know you don’t wanna do it, and I wouldn’t either. But I was just saying.”

  Tramar could feel Ayana rubbing his arm in an effort to get him to calm down. After a few moments, he did and was back to focusing on the task at hand. “About this Sharli, thing,” he said. “I’m cool with her knowing and shit, but we gotta be sure we can trust her, and we gotta be sure that she can get us to Byron. If she can’t, then ain’t no point in us even having anybody else know what we doin’.”

  Jackson understood and nodded.

  Tramar then turned to Jackson and asked him, “Man, is you sure that we can’t find no other way to find this nigga? I mean, outta all the niggas in Chicago and shit, we gotta be able to find a way to find out something. I mean, y’all must know some of the same niggas. Are we thinkin’ about all the savages we know between the two of us? I mean, I know that I only seen the nigga once, when we was out at his house and shit. But, I do gotta say, that based on the kinda money I think that nigga is probably making, he probably gotta know more people than just his immediate family and shit.”

  Jackson took a moment to pull his phone out of his pocket and scroll through his contacts. Many of his contacts, especially with people out in the streets, were saved under different names just in case he had a chick who liked to go through phones.

  “Well,” Jackson said, hesitantly. “I was thinkin’ about how Byron would even know that we was stayin’ out in them motels out in Indiana. And I got to thinkin’…”

  Tramar and Ayana leaned in attentively, waiting to hear what Jackson was going to say.

  “I had this one chick over,” Jackson said. “And I’m guessin’ that she musta told somebody and shit, because neither of you two did.”

  Tramar bit his bottom lip and shook his head as he watched Jackson come to the same conclusion he and Ayana already had. “Yea,” he said. “I figured that. So, you think that she know somebody or something like that who would know Byron?”

  “I mean,” Jackson said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m startin’ to think so and shit. I mean, I couldn’t think of no other way that nigga woulda known something like that, especially all the way down to details like what town and shit we was stayin’ in, out of all the little towns and shit over in Indiana.”

  “Hold up,” Tramar said. “When we ran up in that nigga’s house on Monday, he had that chick there, and he was about to get it in with her, right?”

  “Right,” Jackson said, clearly confused about where Tramar could be going with such a question. “And?”

  “I think the dude might be one of those niggas who will chase after any piece of pussy that look good,” Tramar said. “That means that we can find some thots and shit out in the street and maybe they know where to find the nigga. Come on, man. You know how these girls are nowadays and stuff. If you follow them and stuff, you can just about find any nigga who fuck around like that nigga Byron probably do. You saw the way he ain’t even care about the chick who was over at his house. It was clear she was just there to fuck and that’s it.”

  “Yeah, man, but I don’t know,” Jackson said. “I mean, I don’t know the girls like that.”

  “Hit up the one you do know and say that you wanna hook up with her again and shit,” Tramar suggested. “When you get her over to wherever you at and shit, we can get that bitch to talk.”

  “Wait a minute, nigga,” Jackson said. “You talkin’ bout havin’ me call her over and basically settin’ her up and shit?”

  “Ain’t she do the same thing to you?” Tramar asked, making his point. “Ain’t she the one who told the very nigga that got you in this mess where you was stayin’ and stuff? Man, don’t be thinkin’ about how the fuck she feel and shit. Fuck her, nigga. Fuck her. We think she might know something that we need, and you worry about settin’ her up and shit. When you get a room and shit tonight, hit her up. Throw some money at her. You know how these women love money and shit. Throw some money at her to get her over to you and shit, and I swear to God she’ll open right up and start talkin’. Shit, for all I care, you can call me over and I’ll hold a gun to the hoe’s face and make her talk. We not playin’ with her. We ain’t got time for these games and shit, nigga. Hit her up.’

  Jackson realized that everything Tramar was saying was true. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that this chick probably was the link – the route of information from them to Byron. Without second guessing it any longer, Jackson sent the chick a text message, asking her what she was doing for the night.

  “Okay, okay,” Jackson said. “I just hit her up and now I’m waitin’ to see what she gon’ say. In the meantime, while we waitin’ on her to hit me back, I think we need to be thinkin’ more about this Sharli thing, nigga. Just in case this chick ain’t so willing to give up the information like we want her to.” He looked at Sharli. “Ayana, do you think that we can work with your cousin without really having to tell her everything?’

  Ayana hesitated, trying to look at such a question as clearly as possible before answering. “Well,” she said. “Sharli got a good heart and stuff, so I know that she really do care about me and what is happening with me and stuff. Like I said, we really are like sisters in a lot of ways, especially since I never had one. But she do like to ask a lot of questions and stuff. I mean, I just don’t see her going along with everything without wanting to know why we was asking her this and that. I’m just keepin’ it real. She is gonna want to know and stuff, and I can’t blame her for that.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I don’t know about,” Tramar said. “Just seem like a big risk.”

  “Well, it’s all a risk at this point, Tramar,” Ayana said, kind of feeling tired of being so nice when things were getting to be so serious. “No matter what happens or who knows, the fact is that they done got your ass on the news. On the news, Tramar.”

  Jackson kept a plain face as he watched Ayana be more forceful.

  “If you don’t see how hard up shit is right now,” Ayana said, “then I just don’t know what to tell you. They know you done robbed two banks, and probably that you connected to the one that Jackson did. After all, Jackson did say that he watched them bust in the doors at both of y’all’s motel rooms. And, as I know you ain’t forgot, you killed a security guard. I know you didn’t really mean too, Tramar, but I’m just stating the facts, I guess. Ain’t nothin’ my cousin Sharli could ever do that would make this situation any worse. In fact, she could probably help us more than she could hurt us. And we can make sure we got details of the story lined up in such a way to where we don’t have to tell her everything but can tell her enough to find out what we need to know and to make sure that it matches up with the news. Shit, she don’t even have to know that I even know where you are.”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said, grabbing Tramar’s attention. “That’s what I was thinkin’, nigga. Have her go to her cousin and shit and see if she can find a connection on her social media that we can use. If there is, like some nigga who she know that know Byron or something that we can get in touch with and get some information and shit out of, the betta. What kinda chick is this chick Sharli? Is she like a good church girl or what?”

  Ayana laughed out loud, covering her mouth with her head. “Far from that,” she answered. “Actually, Sharli is as hood as it comes. The chick love weave and she love doing
hair. I know that if she know somebody that know this Byron dude, then it’s probably some nigga from the street.”

  “Bet,” Tramar said, deciding that he’d heard enough. “I guess like you said, we ain’t got nothin’ to lose by gettin’ with her and seein’ what she know. But, just to be sure, can we get on Facebook and shit and at least try to see if we can see the connection and if it would be one that she know like that. I don’t wanna waste our time only to find that she know this nigga Byron through someone who live far away or some shit.”

  Quickly, Ayana pulled out her phone with a smile on her face. She considered herself to be a social media expert, having had all of the accounts and even being able to accumulate a respectable amount of followers. She quickly logged into her Facebook account, having seen that she’d missed several calls and text messages from Sharli wanting to know why the phone call had ended so suddenly earlier.

  Tramar took the opportunity to get up and go look around for Quan as Ayana was looking through Sharli’s Facebook wall. She found the post of Vivica’s terrified face and the title that said WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU OWE A REAL NIGGA MONEY and did a little more digging to see how Sharli had seen it. Quickly, her searching took her to some guy with gold teeth – just the kind of person who looked like somebody that Sharli would know.

  “Look,” she said, “this the dude that seems to know this Byron nigga.”

  Jackson and Tramar leaned in closer to the screen to get a better look. After looking at one another and shaking their heads, Jackson spoke up and said, “Naw, I don’t think I know that nigga.”

  Ayana turned the phone back toward her as she looked into the screen. She admitted that she didn’t know the guy either. “Well, that’s what we needed to know, I guess, and now we know it,” Ayana said. “Look, I know how you feel and stuff, Tramar, but I think getting Sharli in on this is really going to be the only way we can get to who he knows. I mean, do you really think we need to be hitting this dude, whoever it is, up on Facebook without some sort of connection?”

  “And how is Sharli gonna be that connection without making us look suspicious, Ayana?” Tramar asked. “Huh? How she gon’ do that?”

  Ayana stopped in her tracks, trying to think of a response to Tramar’s question. “Look, Tramar,” she said, then glanced around their booth to make sure that she wasn’t talking too loudly. “I know what you sayin’, but we don’t even know how Sharli even knows this dude. For all we know they could be friends and you two could say you try’na sell something that she know he want or some weed or somethin’. I mean, you know she said who he is to her or whatever, but I don’t know how close they are or how she might know him or whatever.”

  Tramar thought about it for a moment. Against his better judgment, he finally caved in. “Okay, okay,” he said, hesitantly. “Hit her up and talk to her and just be real careful what you say, Ayana. Just be real careful. I don’t want her knowin’ too much. Try to find out and see what she might know already without you havin’ to tell her ass too much about what we got goin’. And if she ask where we at, what will you say?” Tramar himself hadn’t thought of a cover story for that just yet.

  Jackson paused, trying to think of what his answer would be once his phone started ringing. He then realized something very crucial. “Tramar,” he said. “Me and you can’t be usin’ our phones and shit. For all you know, the police could be try’na track that shit.”

  “Shit,” Tramar said, looking down at his phone on the table. “You right. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now that they know it’s us and shit, not only do we gotta get rid of them cars, but our phones could also get our black asses caught too.”

  “Yeah, they could,” Ayana said. “They could. What y’all gon’ do? And when do you want me to call Sharli and talk to her.”

  “Tonight,” Tramar said. “Right now. I don’t mean in here, inside of a fuckin’ Chuck-E-Cheese, but I mean step outside and talk to her and shit. Just be real calm about it. And, like I said, baby, just watch what you say when you talkin’ to her, okay. Me and Jackson gon’ figure out what we gon’ do about our phones and shit.”

  Ayana slid out of the booth and walked toward the end of the aisle. Just as she’d passed the other side of the table, where Tramar sat, he reached out and playfully slapped her on her ass. Ayana walked through the main walkway of the Chuck-E-Cheese, checking on Quan herself. She’d found him playing with a couple of other kids, over by some sort of colorful machine that Ayana didn’t recognize. Ayana quickly waved at him before stepping out into the parking lot. She walked over to the side of the building where they’d parked their cars and stood up on the curb in front. She pulled her phone out, feeling a little nervous, as she scrolled through her recent calls list and tapped SHARLI.

  Chapter 2

  When Byron got off the phone with Tramar and Jackson, he had to nearly stop himself from crushing his phone in his fists. He didn’t like how they’d run in on him and were now acting like cornered animals when the tables had turned. Byron shrugged his shoulders, laughing it off. He’d rather keep the company at his grandmother’s house for a little while longer – let Jackson and Tramar sweat it out and really have to do some work.

  With a blunt in one hand, Byron pushed his head forward from leaning on the back of the couch. Slurping noises and heavy breathing filled the vaulted ceiling living room of his house out in the suburbs. He looked down at Cynthia and Rene, two thick honeys he’d met through a buddy that were looking for a guy to keep them busy. The two girls hadn’t known one another before meeting tonight, but after a little talking, and Byron providing the young ladies a few drinks, the chicks were more than happy to have a little of the man’s attention. He promised that when they woke up in the morning, he’d think about taking them to the mall. And, after a while, Cynthia and Rene found themselves feeling comfortable around each other. They both had done threesomes before, but had never done them with another chick they didn’t know.

  Byron smiled, rubbing both of his palms over the domes of the ladies’ heads. They giggled. Both liked the feel of a man’s hand gripping their heads. Bryon chuckled and lifted Cynthia’s head up off of his dick by her hair. She continued sucking until Byron had slowly lifted her head all the way up until she could look into Byron’s eyes and draw a deep breath.

  “Damn, you really serious about this shit, ain’t you?” Byron said. “Goddamn you can suck dick.”

  Cynthia giggled, feeling a little nervous that she was being praised for her skills in front of Rene. Rene pulled her head up from licking Byron’s balls. She looked at the two of them with a face that said she was feeling competitive.

  “Uh, oh,” Byron said, looking at Rene’s face. “It look like somebody mad or something.” He pointed at his manhood. “You think you can do better than that, Rene? Huh?”

  Rene smiled confidently and nodded her head. Playfully, she pushed Cynthia to the side before doing a female version of a hoover vacuum. The word fuck slipped out of Byron’s mouth at the sensation. His head snapped back, now resting on the back of the couch. “Shit, this shit feel good!” he exclaimed. “Fuck.”

  Rene sucked on Byron as if her life truly depended on it. Byron was handsome, had a nice car, a nice house, a nice body, and money. His dick was decent at best, but Rene could look past that. Soon enough, however, Cynthia was beginning to get jealous. She wanted to show how she could really go in on Byron. There was just no way that she was going to let Rene beat her when it came to sucking a man’s dick. She’d been doing it for so long that she considered herself to be a professional, and this very skill had gotten her to where she could honestly say that no man had ever left her.

  Byron played with the chicks back and forth, watching them each try to outdo one another. He’d told their mutual friend that he was looking for a girl to chill with and who he could come home to and have at his side. As usual, once word got around that it was Byron who was looking for a girl, things changed. He had to practically sort through different offers he got. Some chic
ks even went as far as hitting him up on social media accounts. They wanted the shopping and the nice things, which Byron was more than willing to give if he was getting what he needed in return.

  Byron laughed as he felt the weed and the wine going to his head. Once fifteen minutes or so had passed, his phone vibrated again. He groaned, wishing that he didn’t have to stay so busy to keep this money going. He picked up his phone, knowing that he needed to see if whoever was calling him would be calling him about something important.

  It was Juan calling, which Byron had expected. They were bringing a car to him that he’d just bought before going back over to his grandmother’s house down on the southwest side of Chicago. Byron answered, “Yeah, nigga? What?”

  “We pulling into the yard,” Juan said, hesitantly. “Can you open the door so we can put the car in there?”

  “All right,” Byron said. “Wait a sec. Watch my grass, niggas.”

  Byron looked over at his garage door opener on the wall in the kitchen. It seemed so far right then, especially when he could look down and see two thick honeys gobbling down on his manhood as if it were a nine-to-five job. “Shit,” Byron said. “Who wanna go hit the garage door button for me?” He looked down at the girls, Cynthia giving him head as Rene licked his balls. Without hesitating, Rene got up and headed over into the kitchen.

  “Which one is it?” Rene asked.

  Cynthia went back to sucking on Byron’s manhood as he talked Rene to the right button. When Rene came back over to the couch, she dropped back down to her knees, next to Cynthia.

  “Is somebody coming or what?” Rene asked, looking at the various doors branching off of the kitchen.

  Byron snickered. Rene may have been more subservient but asked too many questions. Cynthia, on the other hand, asked no questions and remained on her knees. “Don’t you worry about that,” Bryon told her, rubbing the back of her head as he pulled it down and closer to his body. “Just worry about what you doin’ right here, okay? This is normal for a nigga like me, so you would just have to get used to it. If I had a chick stop what she was doing every time I got a phone call or had somebody stopping by, she would never get anything done. Just keep sucking on this dick and licking them balls. They not gon’ be here for long.”