Around the Way Girls 8

by Tina Brooks McKinney

  Kevin had been working on his master plan for a long time—five years and one month, to be exact. Nothing and no one were going to stop him from rising to the top and taking his rightful place back in his organization, the Cypress Crew. He was ready to get back to running the block, but the stakes were much higher this time around. He wanted his turf back in Brooklyn and he had plans to take over Colonial Heights. He used to be known as the boy from the block with a very large knot. Well, he was back.

  “I got you a phone. It’s in the glove compartment.”

  Kevin opened it. He smiled. His phone wasn’t the only thing in the glove compartment. His big sis knew what it was. She knew what he was coming back to: the mean streets. He placed his hands on the Kahr K9 semiautomatic pistol and pulled it out of the glove compartment. This shit is beautiful, he thought as he marveled at the deadly piece of steel.

  “Yo, you crazy for bringing this shit up here, sis.”

  “Shit, I would have been crazy not to bring it.”

  Kevin knew she was right and he was more than glad to see that her head seemed to be in the right place. He guessed he had finally convinced her that she needed to stop buggin’ out over that wack-ass cop. He reminded her of how close they had always been as siblings and that her loyalty to her family was always to come first. He didn’t understand what the hell would make her want to fuck with a cop in the first place. Then she was talking even crazier than that; a street chick wanting to turn police. Who had ever heard of such a thing?

  The silver Lex glided down the Cross Bronx Expressway as Kelly bobbed and weaved her Lexus through the crazy New York City traffic, listening to Rick Ross. It was Saturday afternoon and everyone seemed to be out on the road. Kevin took in the scenery of the city. He was so used to the dreariness of the pod and the hole that anything was better. He had almost forgotten what the outside world looked like, and more than that, what it felt like.

  “Yo, you aight?” Kelly asked, loudly

  She knew this was a big day for her brother. They both had been highly anticipating his release and now it was here. She knew he had to be bursting at the seams, ready to get back into everything and get shit poppin’, but she also wanted him to be easy. It had nothing to do with Dante, it was just how shit was going down on the streets, period. There was a lot more larceny and shady shit going on with niggas and niggas was not to be trusted.

  “Yeah, I’m great.”

  “What you over there thinking about?”

  Kevin was thinking of all of the contacts he had to line up to get the supply of what he needed. His boys were already waitin’ on his call. He was definitely fucking with heroin. That shit was a definite money-maker and money was the only thing that was going to gain him back the power on the streets. That nigga Siggah wasn’t shit. But Kevin wasn’t going to let one monkey stop no show; he was about to find out what Siggah’s man Bing was all about. If he smelled bullshit, he was going to keep it moving, but for right now, this was the only train that was coming into town that he knew of, so he pretty much had to ride it.

  “Thinking about all the shit we about to get into. I hope you’re ready, ’cause a nigga tryna’ live a champagne life,” Kevin told her as he reached for his new Verizon cell phone.

  Kelly hoped that she was ready too. She believed in her brother’s ability to get it poppin’ on the streets again and that was honestly what she was afraid of. Kevin always liked to floss. He brought too much attention to himself. There was nothing wrong with being fly, but Kevin was just too flamboyant with it. He carried around way too much money and he was always flashing it in people’s faces. That’s what made them niggas rob his crew member Rich back in the day. Kelly silently hoped that in all the time her brother had to sit it down in prison that he had taken the opportunity to review his past actions and that he had realized his past mistakes.

  “So this duck you been fuckin’ wit’, he straight laced or he go to the left?” Kevin asked, wanting to know if Kelly’s man took bribes. Yeah, he hated the police, but he had no problem using the pigs for what he needed them for. If they had a cop on the payroll, they would have extra protection and shit would really be all good.

  “I ain’t fuckin’ wit’ that nigga no more, and nah, that nigga is as straight as they come.”

  “Shit, we gettin’ ready to see so much paper even a straight pig’ll wanna get some,” he said with bravado.

  They had made it back to Colonial Heights. Kelly had parked the car and they tried to make their way to the building, but Kevin had gotten mobbed at least three times by people who had missed him and who hadn’t seen him since he had gotten locked up. He had spent a lot of his time in Colonial before he got locked up. He had pretty much started Buddah out, that’s why he felt perfectly comfortable taking his place.

  He heard a host of people telling him, “Damn, son, you lookin’ good” and “Good to have you home, homeboy.”

  They had finally made it into the building and into the elevator. They had a few heads in the elevator who knew him also.

  “Damn, it stinks in this muthafucka,” Kevin said with his face twisted from the sour smell of the piss.

  “Well, baby bruh, some things will never change,” Kelly told him, smiling.

  “You lookin’ fresh dressed like a million bucks, my dude,” one of the dudes said, while giving Kev dap.

  “Aight, aight,” he replied.

  They stepped off of the elevator and left behind some of Kevin’s additional fans. Needless to say, his ego was on swoll. He knew he was home now. He was in his element. He was “the man.”

  “Hey there,” Dora said, flirtatiously while sticking her undone head from behind her apartment door. She never knew Kevin, but she had heard a lot about him and wanted to see what the big deal was. After seeing him, she was immediately on his dick.

  “Hey, how you?” Kevin asked.

  “Oh, I’m fine, and so are you,” she eagerly declared.

  “Down Dora, yo’ stinkin’ ass don’t miss a beat, do you? You could probably hear a pin drop with that wack-ass crack you on,” Kelly said, fucking with her.

  “Yeah, like when I be hearing you in there playin’ wit’ ya’self.”

  “I bet you do, you freaky bitch.”

  Kevin laughed as the two ladies who quickly drew claws. Kelly unlocked her apartment door and they stepped into the dark apartment.

  “Surprise!”

  The lights suddenly flipped on and captured Kevin’s reaction. He was definitely surprised, all right. He had no idea his sister had all of this up her sleeve. All of Kevin’s close friends including the members of the Cypress Crew, had gathered for a little surprise get-together to welcome her brother home. She had platters of fried chicken, fried fish, and jerk chicken, and cases of Heineken and Guinness floating around the place—all of Kevin’s favorites. He saw a big cake on the table that had a picture of the both of them right before he got locked up. Kevin tried not to show his emotions, but the look on his face said it all. His sister truly went all out for his homecoming.

  Trey Songz’s “Bottom’s Up” came on and the men were graced with yet another surprise, as three thick-ass strippers ran out of Kelly’s bedroom and immediately went to work on the men in the crowd. They grinded and slithered their fat asses all over the members of the Cypress Crew. The men were prepared as they flourished the ladies with bills. Kevin wasn’t thinking about tricking on no fucking stripper. He had much more important things he had planned to do with his money. He got a condom from one of his boys, grabbed the thickest, cutest one of the three and took her into the room his sister had fixed up for him to stay in until he found a place of his own.

  “Yeah, baby, don’t stop the show; dance for me,” Kevin told her as he took a long swig of his Heineken. The cold liquid tasted so good to him. It had been a long time since he had had an ice-cold beer.

  The mocha-complexioned cutie dropped it low and placed her finger in her mouth and slid it into her pussy and then back into her mouth.
She then stood up and wiggled her fat ass all in Kevin’s face as he sat on the bed.

  “Yeah, baby, do that shit, ma, I’ma beat that pussy up. A nigga been gone for a minute,” he told her as his eyes rotated with the shake of her ass. He grabbed onto her thunder thighs and pushed his freckled face between the fleshy cheeks of her chocolate ass and inhaled her femininity. He wanted to thank his sister at that very moment for knowing her baby brother so well.

  Kevin turned the honey around to face him. He opened his jeans and revealed more of a tree trunk than a penis.

  “Oh shit, oh hell no, no wait,” the stripper cried out in protest.

  “Uh-uh mama, ain’t no waitin’ now.”

  Kevin pulled her down on to his bed and held her wrist tightly with one of his strong hands, put on the Magnum his boy Leek had slipped him, and slid his dick into the stripper’s hot hole.

  “Aw damn, aw shit, ya’ shit is aight, what’s your name?”

  “Cheyenne.”

  “Cheyenne, oohh Cheyenne, you got some goodness, ma, oh yeah, you wanna suck my dick, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I can, if you payin’.”

  Kevin continued to stroke her pussy hard.

  “Come on, baby, don’t be like that, let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours, a nigga just comin’ home. I’ll get you straight later, you know who I am.”

  She didn’t know who he was and she didn’t care, she was about her paper and niggas understood that if you wanted extra services it would cost extra. He must have been gone for a long time if he thought she was giving him head for free.

  “Maybe you can go and borrow the money,” she said as he dug her pussy out.

  I know this bitch ain’t just tell me to go borrow some money, Kevin thought.

  “Turn over,” he told her.

  Kevin entered her from the back. His gigantic dick invaded every piece of her hole as he fucked her. He slapped her ass harder and harder.

  “Oh yeah, you’re pleasing me now, there you go,” he told her as he worked toward his nut. He slapped her ass as hard as he could and pushed her facedown into the pillow.

  “Ah, ouch, you’re hurting me,” she said loudly.

  “Fuck you, bitch, don’t you ever tell me to go borrow money. I don’t pay for pussy, bitch. Real niggas fuck for free.” He continued to pummel into her. “Give me two days and I’ll be able to buy and sell your ass, ah, ahhh, ahhhh, yeah bitch,” Kevin said as he came.

  He pulled his dick out of her and rolled the rubber off.

  “Now get the fuck outta here wit’ yo’ trick ass so I can be on to the next muthafuckin’ one,” Kevin told her as he placed his dick back into his pants and zipped it up.

  The female did as she was told as she grabbed her things up and quickly put them on. It didn’t take her long. All she had on was a thong and some frilly little top. She burst into Kelly’s living room where her girls were still doing their thing and getting their dough. She looked back and saw Kevin coming out of the room. She said fuck the money and her girls and frantically raced past Kelly and out of the apartment.

  “What the fuck,” Kelly said, as the girl nearly took Kelly’s shoulder out of the door with her.

  Kelly turned to see her brother bragging to his boys and grabbing his dick. She guessed that the chick was scared by her brother’s anaconda. Oh, she knew her brother was hung; she used to change his diapers when he was a baby.

  “Yo, y’all niggas hurry up with these ladies. We got some business to discuss,” Kevin told his boys.

  Kevin and the other members of the Cypress Crew partied with the strippers for another hour before he stressed the importance once again of them getting down to business. Kelly paid the woman who catered the affair and took care of the two hostesses who came to help keep the food trays circulating. The boys had laced the strippers with plenty of bills, plus she had hit them off with a base of 250 dollars each, so they were straight. It had been a long Saturday and night. Kelly was tired and ready to lay it down.

  “Yo, baby bruh, you need me?” she asked, wearily. Kelly knew that Kevin needed to kick it with his crew and she felt that they needed to bond as men, without the presence of a female.

  “Hell yeah, I need you, you my big sis,” he said, feeling no pain. The few beers he had had already soaked into his system.

  Kevin commanded everyone’s attention as he brought his first meeting of the renewed and renowned Cypress Crew to order.

  “I just wanna say it’s good to see all y’all niggas again, man. I ain’t want nobody to come see me when I was locked up, but it’s real good seeing y’all right now,” Kevin said.

  “You too, man,” Rayvon said.

  “No doubt,” Leek added.

  “Yeah, yeah, no doubt, Leek, my man, that’s right, ain’t no doubt we about to take over these muthafuckin’ streets. This city is ours. Colonial is ours and our turf out in Bed-Stuy is ours.”

  His men agreed while Kelly listened.

  “And I’m tellin’ y’all niggas right now. I don’t want to hear shit about no fuckin’ police. Unless they tryin’a be down wit’ us, them niggas don’t exist to me. We gotsta get money, fuck da police,” Kevin chanted.

  “What we gotsta do?” Rayvon asked, sauced up.

  “We gotsta get money. Fuck da police,” Leek confirmed.

  “That’s right my niggas, and yo, word to my dead muva, if I see that punk-ass bitch-ass police that fuckin’ deaded my life for five years, I’m gon’ dead that nigga for good.”

  Chapter 11

  Rude Awakening

  It only took three months for Kevin and his crew to fully get back on their game. People had been telling Kevin that there was a recession. Kevin and his crew was seeing about 30 thou’ a week; he didn’t know what a fucking recession was. Rayvon had his coke connect in Brooklyn and Bing was in the Bronx serving his purpose. His heroin connect was more than on time. They moved the work out just as quickly as the work came in. The Cypress Crew was well on their way to fulfilling his prediction of them taking over.

  Interestingly enough, once the drugs started flowing through the veins of all of the fiends in the hood, Kelly being a possible snitch didn’t matter. Shit, it was her brother that was hooking up the hood and that’s all they cared about. Even the niggas that had mad love for Buddah were on the program. Drugs and money had a way of making everything all right in the hood.

  There was a bit more of a police presence in Colonial Heights after Chop’s death and Buddah’s arrest, but that didn’t stop the men from operating. They were just extra careful about it. Kelly was positioned at the very front of the building. She sat on the bench all day and damn near all night and all she did was look out. She saw everyone that came in and out. Leek was positioned in the basement for any surprise visitors. And Rich was the alternate. They had headsets letting each other know who was moving and where.

  Kelly watched as squad cars rode back and forth trying to cause a panic, but she wasn’t pressed. One word on her headset and everything would be shut down. The main issue was dealing with the undercovers that they still managed to squeeze through. She had sent two away in this day alone and it was only one in the afternoon.

  “Ay’ Leek,” Kelly said, as she positioned the mic of the headset.

  “Yeah, what up Kells?”

  “I need to take a break,” she told him. Kelly had been in front of the building since 5 AM.

  “A’ight, I’ll call Rich and have him come down.”

  Inside his sister’s apartment, Kevin sat in his room, counting money, “Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one; twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, two; twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, three.”

  Rich watched as he counted and counted and counted. Kevin couldn’t believe all of the money they were seeing. If he wasn’t mistaken, he had just counted nine stacks and the working fiends hadn’t even copped yet. Kevin’s mouth contoured into a sinister smile as he thought about his current financial position. Rich was smiling also. If Kevin was straight, then his
team was straight also.

  “Rich,” Leek called.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rich responded. His headset was in place and he was ready to be instructed.

  “Kelly needs you in front.”

  “Aight.”

  “Yo, you good?” Rich asked Kevin before he turned to leave.

  “I’m great,” Kevin said, contented.

  Rich left Kevin alone with his money and with his thoughts. Kevin’s mind darted back to his years in prison and how he dreamed of all of what was now in front of him. He was the muthafuckin’ man, in his own opinion. Who the fuck could come straight out of prison and do what he did in ninety days? He could see the champagne-colored ‘10 Mercedes S500 that was on somebody’s car lot just waiting for him.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the slamming of the apartment’s front door. Kevin immediately ran out strapped with his new Kahr K9. Once he saw that it was only his sister, he put the weapon in the waist of his Sean John jeans.

  “Ay, sis, what up?”

  “What’s up is you and all of these muthafuckas all up in my crib fuckin’ my shit up,” Kelly yelled as she ripped her headset off.

  “What you talkin’ ’bout yo?”

  “I’m talkin’ about all of these fuckin’ scales and shit, residue, cigar wraps and Black and Milds all over the fuckin’ place. Niggas in here eatin’, ain’t nobody washin’ no fuckin’ dishes. I’m out all day and night and I come in here and can’t even take a fuckin’ shower ’cause y’all niggas ain’t cleanin’ up the tub when y’all done. This shit ain’t workin’.”

  ‘The fuck it ain’t workin’! Take yo’ ass in my room and look at all that cash and you’ll see how much this shit is workin’.”

  “Kevin, this is my crib, yo, not a fuckin’ drug house or no trash can.”

  “Who cares; we getting’ mad fuckin’ money. And put your fuckin’ headset back on.”

  “Yeah, Kev, I know we gettin’ money, the entire block knows we getting money, that’s the fuckin’ problem. Yo we need to get out of Colonial. This shit is too hot.”