by Tracy Brown
Jada opened her eyes, and looked into his. There she saw acceptance and understanding. She saw someone who didn’t judge her, and it made her want to cry. Born touched her so firmly, and so intensely, that she couldn’t help moaning. He kissed her body, even the scar that she hated so much. Then he put on a condom and made love to her as no man ever had. He told her again and again that she was his pretty girl, that she felt so good. She watched him touch her like she had never been touched, and kiss her in places that made her insides scream. For Jada, even though she’d had sex with many men, with Born she experienced intimacy for the very first time. It felt like redemption. Born connected with something deep inside of her. As they lay rocking to a rhythm all their own, it seemed as if theirs was an unmatched synchronicity. Jada responded to him, felt beautiful with him. And they filled each other’s voids after all.
Afterward, Born reached over and grabbed a small bottle of Hennessy that was still sitting on the nights tand from the night before. Taking a swig, he exhaled deeply and looked at Jada lying beneath his snowy white sheets, and puffing silently on a cigarette. Her silhouette was perfect under the thin material, and all of her curves were amazing. But beneath that sheet, Born had seen the truth.
Jada looked into his beautiful eyes. She looked at his thick, sexy lips, and recalled what those lips had done to her battered body only moments before. She relaxed.
Born playfully nudged her chin with his fist. “No matter what happens,” he said. “Promise me we’ll always be friends.”
Jada wasn’t sure how to react to that. Was “friends” all that he wanted to be? Was he already regretting having sex with her? “I promise, I’ll always be your friend.”
Born smiled at her. “I’ll always be yours, too,” he said. “Friends till the end.” He lay there, trying to keep things in perspective. Sex didn’t necessarily have to change anything, he reasoned. They could still be best friends. But despite his efforts to convince himself that friendship was enough, he couldn’t help but feel for the tarnished young woman he lay beside.
She slept in his arms that night, in his bed, with their legs laced together. Born watched her sleep, wondering how she had managed to soften his hardened heart when it came to drug addiction. He thought about his father. He thought about how disappointed he had been in Leo when he was alive and getting high. Born wondered why he was now considering a relationship with someone going through the same struggle. But there was something different about Jada. She had sworn to him that she was finished with drugs. She only smoked cigarettes now, and drank only socially. The truth was, he loved her company, and he loved her—period. He didn’t know how he’d let it happen. He never wanted to love her. She wasn’t the type of woman he wanted to give his heart to. But he couldn’t help it. She completed him. They made love again when the sun came up.
Her fingertips had lightly brushed the skin on Born’s face on that cold February morning as he woke her up. His mustache and goatee had been stubbly to the touch, and she loved it—she thought he was the closest thing to perfect. Born’s eyes searched hers with an intensity that made her heartbeat quicken. It seemed like he was looking beyond her dark brown eyes and peering right into her soul. She felt vulnerable with him staring into her eyes that way. She was afraid of what he might see there. But she felt silly for feeling like that. The night before she had made love to Born for the first time. She had exposed herself to him, body and soul, and there was nothing to hide anymore. Jada wondered if she should break the silence that had fallen between them. Searching her mind for something to say, she continued to caress his face. But it would be Born who broke the silence, though not as romantically as she may have hoped.
“Don’t ever hurt me, Jada.” He said it without a smile on his face, just a serious look, and an even tone in his voice. “I let you in. Don’t make me regret that.”
Jada looked away, unsure how to respond. She shook her head, her eyes locked on Born’s bare chest. “I won’t hurt you,” she said, firmly. “I would never do that.”
He kept staring at her, though she no longer met his gaze. He was wondering how she had managed to penetrate his emotional fortress. The tainted creature before him had managed to melt his heart. “You can’t look me in my eyes,” he said.
Jada frowned and looked directly at Born, determined now to show him that she could. “That’s not true. I look you in your eyes all the time.”
“But not for long,” he said. “You always turn away, like it makes you uncomfortable.”
Jada shrugged her shoulders, and stared back at Born. “Maybe it does a little bit. Because I’m afraid you won’t like what you see.”
Born smiled, ever so slightly, and kissed her softly. “I love you,” he said.
Silence fell between them for several profound moments. A broad smile spread across Jada’s face, and she battled the urge to pinch herself. What he’d said to her was like a dream come true, and it felt to her, at that moment, like those words coming from that man were exactly what she’d been waiting for her whole life. “I love you, too.” She felt like the happiest woman alive.
Jada was by his side and in his bed from that day on. She was his baby girl, his weakness. And she adored the ground he walked on.
She moved into his place, and they were official. Jada became Born’s other half. She traveled in and out of state with him. She rode shotgun when he went to make deliveries. When they went out to parties or concerts, Jada held his gun for him, since bouncers rarely searched the women. She even watched him bag up his drugs on occasion, and he watched her like a hawk. He was waiting for her to slip up, putting her face-to-face with the drug that had had her twisted not so long ago. He was testing her to see what her reaction would be when she saw it. And Jada passed the test. She was committed to staying clean, and he was so proud. He had almost expected her to slip up, but she never did, and that impressed him. Born wasn’t one to trust easily. His trust came in layers. He had trusted his father, his friend Jamari, and trusted Simone. More often than not, he had been let down. So he didn’t trust Jada easily. Women had burned him before, and he was slow to let his guard down fully at first. But little by little he began to let Jada chip away at his doubts. He put all his faith in her, and she was determined he never regret it.
Jada was by his side step by step. She was earning Born’s trust and stealing his heart as she helped him put together an empire that niggas would try to duplicate for a long time to come. Born introduced Jada to his mother, and Ingrid prepared dinner for them when they came over to her house. Jada felt special when Ingrid told her that she was the first young lady Born had brought home to meet her since he’d moved out years ago. Knowing that Miss Ingrid was the most important woman in Born’s life, Jada knew it was a big deal that he had introduced them. She knew that she was officially “in.”
On the way home that night, Jada looked over at Born as he drove. When he met her gaze, she smiled at him. “Thank you for trusting me, Born. I know that’s not easy for you. But you trust me, and you love me. That means so much to me, baby. It really does.”
Born smiled at her. “I do love you and trust you,” he said. “And I believe that you won’t make me regret that. I really feel that you won’t let me down. I’ll bet the house on that.”
Jada was so happy to hear him say those words. She was fiercely determined not to ever make him regret the confidence that he had in her. Night after night they made crazy love, and plotted how together they would take over the world one block at a time. It was the sweetest thing, the love they shared, the dreams they had. And for once they found contentment in each other’s arms.
20
PARTNERS IN CRIME
Bitches hated on Jada hard for being with Born. They would look at her all greasy, and roll their eyes at her when she and Born walked into a room together. He was that nigga around the way, so all the broads wanted him for themselves. Even Shante. She would tell Jada things, and warn her not to trust Born. She made Jada think t
hat he was lying to her, that he had other girls. Shante kept telling her, “Don’t think that you’re his one and only. Remember, Jada, trust no one.” And at first, Jada doubted him. She brought a lot of what Shante told her back to Born. And he made Jada see her friend for what she was. Shante was still smoking crack, still boosting, and she was hating. She had a man, but he was hustling backward. The nigga sold weed, but he smoked blunts like they were cigarettes. So seeing Jada with Born—who was taking her on shopping sprees and trips, and keeping her looking fabulous—made Shante sick. After a while, Born didn’t want Jada hanging with Shante anymore. He didn’t want her around someone that jealous and that was still smoking. In fact, she was the person Jada had started smoking crack with. Born convinced Jada that Shante wasn’t a real friend. So she let go of that friendship. She stopped calling Shante, and Shante stopped calling her.
Jada didn’t have other friends. It was just her sister, Ava, and no one else. By then Ava was attending the University of Pennsylvania, and she was on the right track. Jada spent all her time with Born, and they became partners in crime.
Born was still connected to Dorian, the guy from Brooklyn. He was dealing costly fish scale in assorted quantities. He also sold cheaper cook-up cocaine and did business with small-time hustlers as well. Dorian had been in the game for years, and in all that time he had never seen anyone hustle the way Born did. The kid was relentless. Born was never short with money, and often came back to re-up long before Dorian thought he would. He had never seen the young hustler with a crew, or with any henchmen. He worked alone, and Born was making lots of money—and bringing Dorian big money in return. They began to form a mutual admiration for one another’s style. Then a situation arose that intensified that sentiment.
Dorian found out that there was a plot to set Born up. Another hustler from Staten Island was talking too much, and news in Dorian’s circle had traveled faster than the speed of light. Dorian heard from more than one reliable source that a hustler named Celly from Stapleton was after Born’s spot. Celly was trying to lock down the island with his wholesale coke and heroin trade. But Born was making it hard, with the top spenders in the game spending their money with him instead. Celly couldn’t beat his prices. So rather than find a way to compete, he wanted to take the competition out of the game.
Dorian liked Born, and admired him, because he reminded him of himself when he first got into the game. He saw the hunger in Born’s hustle. Born seemed like an example of how to play the game rather than to allow the game to play you. He was never in the police’s radar, and never unfair to those he did business with. He got his money, and kept it moving. But what Dorian admired most about Born was the fact that he worked alone. He stood firmly on his own two feet, with no crew behind him. Born knew when to be loud, and when to be low-key, and Dorian liked what he saw in the young hustler. Celly, on the other hand, was a hater and a rat bastard. One of Dorian’s boys had been locked up with Celly, and told him that the nigga was snitching. Nothing was worse than a snitch to Dorian. He and Celly had no love between them, only business. And even the business Celly brought to Dorian was sporadic. He didn’t cop from Dorian nearly as much as Born did. Celly only talked big. So it was a pleasure for Dorian to alert Born to what was about to go down.
He discussed the situation with Born, telling him to watch his back. Born didn’t take such things just at face value. For all he knew, Dorian could be throwing shit in the game, just to get rid of a thorn in his own side. So Born did his homework. He put his ear to the street, and sure enough, he was able to confirm it. In a borough where all the hoods combined would equal only half of Brooklyn, news traveled easily. Born was grateful to Dorian for possibly saving his life. He had been the first to tell him what was brewing, and no one knew when Celly was planning to strike.
Two weeks later Celly was executed in his kitchen, along with his uncle and his brother. Never one to pay someone else to do his dirty work, Born had pulled the trigger himself, and he did it discreetly. He simply ambushed Celly’s little sister as she came home from school. He snuck up behind her, and made her open the door. Once they gained access to Celly’s house using her key, Born held the ten-year-old girl at gunpoint until her brother finally came home. Celly, his uncle, and his brother were met with immediate gunfire, and may never even have known who caused it. Born left Celly’s little sister tied to a bench in Tompkins Square Park. By the time the police found her, she was too petrified to tell them about the man who had killed her brother and uncles. Their bodies weren’t discovered until the stench from the decomposition drew the neighbors’ attention. It was a crime that rocked the borough, and one that made niggas think twice about what they said. Everybody knew that Celly had loose lips. He never cared what he said about anybody. Though many suspected that Born had been behind Celly’s murder, the dead man had far too many enemies for anyone to know for sure. From that point on, Dorian and Born had a great business relationship, as well as a blossoming friendship. Dorian remained professional. But he had a soft spot for the thoroughbred he saw in Born.
Usually when they did business Born came by himself. He had been buying weight from Dorian, and cutting some of it down into twenty-and fifty-dollar quantities, while the rest he sold in ounces. But now Born wanted to discuss something else. He wanted to change the game, and he felt that he had a proposition that Dorian would be unable to refuse. Born invited Dorian to bring his wifey, Sunny, along to dinner with him and Jada. Dorian accepted, figuring that whatever Born had on his mind might be interesting. He gladly brought Sunny along to balance out the equation.
Dorian told Sunny that one of his “clients” wanted to come and meet with him. Never one to divulge too much information to Sunny at once, he explained that the client was bringing a female friend with him, and that she should get dressed and put on her finest shit. He was taking her out for a night on the town. Sunny understood that this meant that the men would discuss business while she was expected to keep the female entertained. This would probably be a close working relationship between Dorian and this other party, because bringing wifeys into the equation always signaled that big business was being conducted: Dorian bringing Sunny along on business was a sign that this client was welcome in his cipher. She couldn’t wait to see who it was.
When they arrived at Calalou’s, the best West Indian restaurant in Manhattan, Sunny was surprised to see that Born was the client Dorian had been talking about. She had seen Born on only a handful of occasions. He seemed serious and no-nonsense. He was polite and not nearly as gutter as some of the others she’d seen. But her opinion didn’t matter much. If Dorian was meeting with him, he must be alright.
Sunny walked in wearing a cream-colored Gaultier dress with beaded Lauboutin sandals. Her short, light-brown hair was cut perfectly and slicked back off her softly made-up face. Her haircut was edgy, a look one could only pull off if she were as stunning as Sunny. She looked like she belonged on a runway. Dorian looked just as regal. But that would have been the case regardless of what he wore. Dorian was a tall and well-toned, brown-skinned brother. He had a neat mustache and goatee that accented his juicy lips. His eyebrows were thick and dark, his nose in perfect proportion. Dorian was clearly older than Sunny. But they made an amazing couple. He was dapper in a tan pair of slacks, Stacey Adams footwear, and a simple, brown button-up shirt. He spotted Born sitting at a table in the back with his lady, and he led Sunny toward them.
Sunny would always remember the first time she saw Jada. There was something about her that she liked instantly. Jada was a stunning brown-skinned beauty with a delicate smile. She wore her hair upswept, accented by bangs cut to precise perfection. She wore a shimmering silk bronze-colored halter top paired with sexy tight jeans. Instinctively, Sunny looked at Jada’s shoes as she and Born stood to greet them, and saw that she wore a pair of Gucci slingbacks. Nice. Sunny had the meanest shoe game in town, and she could see that Jada’s wasn’t bad, either. She took in the Gucci alligator bag that sat
on the table beside Jada, and Sunny concluded that Born was keeping his girlfriend well appointed. Sunny didn’t hate at all, because she knew that no one in the room had more money than Dorian did. Born himself was decked out in a pair of baggy black jeans, Wallabies, and a crisp white linen shirt. Born never really dressed up, and even though the venue this evening was an upscale restaurant, he still kept it somewhat gangsta. Sunny was a fashionista, so seeing Jada laid out so impeccably made her warm up to her immediately. They exchanged smiles and a handshake as they were introduced, and then they sat and began their evening.
“So, what y’all feel like eating tonight?” Dorian asked, in his heavy baritone. Sunny put her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together under her chin as she waited for the answer.
Born sat back and looked at Jada as if he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. Jada shook her head, smiling. “I want to apologize up front for how my baby eats in public!” She scowled at Born, and he laughed. His lack of table manners had not changed.
Dorian laughed as well, and looked at Jada. “Okay, I can tell that you and Sunny got a lot in common,” he said. “She stays on my case about shit like that.” Looking at Sunny, Dorian grinned, and said, “While we’re issuing warnings, let me tell you right now that Sunny don’t know how to bite her tongue,” he said. “I keep reminding her that everything you think don’t need to be spoken. But she don’t hear me. So let me apologize now for whatever comes out of her pretty little mouth.”
Sunny rolled her eyes at Dorian, and then looked at Born. “So I guess we’re the ones with the fuckin’ problems, huh, Born?”