Chapter Twenty-Eight
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania A few days later...
Veronica poured another glass of wine and passed it to Charles. It was his fifth drink of the night. She sat down beside him and placed her arm around his shoulders.
"So, Charles, what’s this big secret you been holding back?"
Charles sat there, his drowsy eyes staring at nothing but empty space; his posture slumped, as if he would fall over and go to sleep at anysecond.
"It...It was...a...long time ago," he answered drunkenly, looking into her beautiful face and eyes, then over at his friend Jeffrey, who was passed out across the bed. "I...don' think I should...say any...anythin' 'bout thiz," he mumbled.
Veronica placed her hand on Charles's sagging dick and her mouth to his ear. "Baby, don't you worry, you can tell me anything. Your secrets are safe with me," she cooed seductively.
Charles felt his dick growing and swelling in Veronica's hand, thenswallowed his fifth glass of wine in one gulp.
"You promise me...that...you...you...won't...ever tell a...a...single soul," he asked, his eyes drooping more and becoming even more glassy as the alcohol flooded his bloodstream.
"I promise," Veronica answered, her soft lips nibbling his earlobeand neck.
"It happened in West Virginia," he started. "Me and my father... was...out campin'...with...with...with," he paused as if stuck. "Go ahead, Baby. Take your time," Veronica urged, stroking his
dick.
"We...were...out camping with...my godfather..."
"And who's your godfather?" she interrupted.
"Oh, you don't know?" Charles laughed drunkenly.
"No, why don't you tell me," Veronica whispered softly in his ear. "He's big in Washington...very...very...big!"
Veronica sat on the edge of the bed, listening, as Charles told her his darkest secret. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She sat spellbound, rubbing his dick, convincing him to tell her more and more until he finally slumped down beside his drunken friend and passed out; but not before the tale was told. Afterwards, Veronica sat there speechless, staring at the round clock on the wall. Behind the clock was one of the miniature video cameras she had hidden around the room. She sighed with the weight of her secret knowledge then smiled because everything that happened inside the bedroom was safely on video and audio tape. This, she knew, was worth a fortune!
Los Angeles, California...
Allen and Peaches were standing outside the house when Pamela pulled up and parked her brand new BMW convertible. They watched as she got out of her car and walked toward them. Pamela was dressed to impress in a white silk blouse and a pair of designer blue jeans that emphasized herhourglass figure.
Allen, smiling, walked out to meet her. He gave her a brotherly hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Hey lil' sis, how's everything been going?" he asked, leaning back and looking into her eyes intently.
"Everything has been fine," she said, looking over at Peaches and rolling her eyes.
"Are you nervous about the wedding?" he asked.
"A little," she answered. "Sometimes it still feels unreal to me," sheadded.
"Well, I want you to know that I'm happy for you. Mouse seems like a nice guy and it's obvious he loves you."
"And I love him too," Pamela replied, smiling, dreamy eyed. "And so does Face," she added.
As Allen and Pamela stood there talking, Peaches rolled her eyes andwent into the house. Just the sight of Pamela made the hatred she felt towards her escalate even more. It took everything she had to control it.
Mouse and Face sat in the middle of the bed counting a large pile of loosebills. Pamela was out getting her hair and nails done, as she did weekly. Mouse watched Face as he sat back and counted the money and wrapped it in thick rubber bands.
Since the first day he had met Face, he had been very impressed withhim. In many ways Face reminded him of himself when he was the sameage.
"Put all the ones 'n fives in the sneaker box," Mouse told him.
"I know, I know, and put all the tens, twenties, fifties and hundreds in the duffle bag," Face nodded.
"So, what happened with your friend, Qunicy?" Mouse asked, curiously.
"He got to do some time in the juvenile hall for stealing that car," Face answered.
"Do you see how easy it is to get yourself caught up in some bullshit?" Mouse asked, placing a stack of bills in a money counting machine.
"Yeah," Face said, nodding his head.
"See Face, so many young black and brown men are getting caught out on them streets. You always have to be careful and think about whatyou're doing."
"I will," Face said smugly. "I'm ‘a be one of the smart ones."
"Just remember Face, the greatest tragedy in life is not death, but rather living without a purpose. Without a purpose life has no meaning, nosignificance, no hope. It's activity without direction, events without reason. Pointless. And most of all…life becomes motion without any truemeaning. Do you understand me, Face?"
"Yes, I understand you Mouse. I have to set my goals high, then stick with them ‘til I reach ‘em” Face replied.
Mouse smiled and shook his head. "This city better watch out for
you!"
"No Mouse, you said it wrong. The world better watch out for me!"Face said, opening the duffle bag and dropping in a stack of hundred dollar bills.
"Girl, I don't know how you did it, but you got to show me so I can get my man to propose to me," the hairdresser said to Pamela. "I been with Rodney's sorry ass for ten years and he ain't thinkin' 'bout gettin' married!"
"Yeah, Pam, how did you get Mouse to propose?" another womanasked curiously.
Pamela, smiling at the two nosey women, said, "It's easy girls, first you have to treat 'em like a king. Then, you put it on 'em so good that he don't think about nobody but you. If the nigga don't get down on one kneeand ask to marry you, then pack your shit and roll. 'Cause what he won't do, someone else will," she said in a stern tone of voice while the two women agreeably nodded their heads.
"You gotta make a man feel as though he needs you to complete hislife," she continued. "Once a man feels he needs you, he will do whatever it takes to keep you all to himself. The problem is a lot of women don't know how to play their part. Too manywomen want to wear the pants in a relationship. You gotta let a man be a man and you just be the woman over him pulling the strings," she went on as the other two laughed with her.
When Pamela's hair and nails were done and she had paid for them, she waved goodbye and walked out of the salon.
The two women inside watched her climb into her white convertible and drive off. Their eyes sparkled with humor and a little envy at Pamela'sgood fortune in life.
A few weeks later... Inside a house on Central and Imperial highway, Poo and two other men were sitting around talking.
"Fuck 'dat bitch-ass nigga!" Poo snapped as he stood up from the couch and started pacing the floor angrily. The other men just watched as he vented his frustration.
The two men's names were Wizard and Ty-Bud. They were Poo's wild young cousins from the ruthless Nicholson Gardens Projects and both of them were members of the Bounty Hunter Bloods.
"I don't get it, Poo," Wizard said. "Why all of a sudden you hatin on'dat nigga Mouse?"
"Fuck Mouse!" he stated angrily. "Just know that I have my reasons!"
"Hey, I'm jus' askin'. Fuck'em! The nigga's a Crip anyway," Wizardsaid, then laughed and looked over at Ty-Bud, who sat on the couch smoking on a sherm-stick (a cigarette dipped in embalming fluid or PCP). In this case, it was embalming fluid. "Nigga, I'm a Crip!" Poo stated.
"Yeah, but you’s family, and for that you get a pass," Ty-Bud said, inbetween puffs.
Poo walked back over to the couch and sat down. Ty-Bud passed himthe sherm-stick and Poo put it in his mouth, inhaling an embalming fluid cloud of smoke into his nostrils.
"How much money you owe Mouse?" Wizard asked.
"Ten thousand," Poo replied, blowing o
ut a thick cloud of grey smoke.
"We owe him seven thousand a piece," Ty-Bud said.
"How 'bout we don't pay him?" Poo said seriously.
"Yeah right," Wizard said just as serious. "Mouse would come for our heads if we didn't pay him all his cash. The nigga is ‘a O.G.; A true Original Gangster! His soldiers would be out looking for us," he added, reaching for the sherm-stick in Poo's hand.
"If we set him up and get away clean, won't nobody know," Poo said, devilishly.
"So, you wanna knock Mouse off?" Ty-Bud questioned.
"Yeah, why not?" Poo stated. "We can call him over to pick up his money and drop us off some more drugs. Then smoke that fool and keep the cash and the drugs," Poo laughed, his plan coming together. "Ya'll scared?" he added.
"Hell no, fool!" Wizard laughed. "It's just more money in our pockets!"
"Fuck Mouse, anyway! His man Q-Jay killed my lil' homie, Smoke,last year," Ty-Bud vented.
"Ain't the nigga supposed to be getting married soon?" Wizard asked.
"Yeah, to my bitch!" Poo replied. His anger and jealousy was quickly rising to the surface with the thought of Mouse getting Pamela.
"Your bitch?" Ty -bud asked surprised.
"It's a long story. Anyway is we gonna do it or not? If so, I can startputting our plan in motion." Poo said.
"Yeah, I'm in," Wizard replied.
"Me, too." Ty-Bud said.
"Is this all about some bitch?" Wizard asked Poo.
"Hell no, nigga!" Poo shouted angrily. "It's about respect!" "Well, whatever it's about we gotta do it right or this shit will backfire on us. Mouse is still ‘a O.G. and a lot of niggas will be pissed off if they found out us three behind it," Ty-Bud said sincerely.
"Like I said, won't nobody know. Most time Mouse drive around by himself, picking up money and dropping off that work," Poo reminded them, reaching and grabbing the sherm-stick from Wizard. The three sat around discussing the plot to kill Mouse; each had his own reason. As the room filled with rank grey smoke, they all agreed that Mouse had to die.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
West Philadelphia, 42nd and Brown Street...
Hood , Ron Perry, and two of their top street lieutenants got out of their cars and headed towards the small brick row house. They walked past the two huge men standing outside, guarding the front door and continued up the stairs and into a back room. The two lieutenants each carried a black army duffle bag on their shoulder. Inside each bag were large quantities of heroin and cocaine. They placed the bags in one corner of the room on thefloor, then turned and left without a word.
"That's over two million dollars worth of drugs," Ron said, pointing at the bags. "Didn't I tell you things would go smoothly?" he added with asmile.
"Yeah, you did. And you'll be well compensated," Hood smiled, thegreed shining in his eyes as if he had a fever.
Ron and his two top lieutenants had just finished setting up and robbed a Southwest Philly drug boss named Truck. They had caught Truck and one of his men getting out of a brown Acura Legend, and walking towards a house on 55th and Baltimore Avenue.
With their weapons drawn, they had followed the two men into the house. Truck, fearing for his life, had shown them where his drug stash was secretly hidden.
Truck was not a stupid man. He knew it was a no win situation for him; either give up the drugs, or die. It was just that simple, there were no exceptions.
Ron Perry had kept his silenced pistol aimed at the two scared men while his men filled the black duffle bags with Truck's drugs.
The drugs had come from a major shipment Truck had just received from his connect in New York. Now he stood helplessly and watched as it was being stolen. There was not a thing he could do about it.
After the two men had placed all of the drugs in the duffel bags, theystood by and watched as Ron shot Truck's friend between the eyes at pointblank range. Blood, brain matter and bone fragments sprayed the side of Truck's face and shoulder, as his friend’s body sank to the floor and his vital fluidsbegan to pool around the dead man's head. The .9mm had done devastating damage at close range.
Now, scared beyond words and knowing the same thing was about tohappen to him. Truck ran for the window and went through before Ron could kill him.
In fear, Truck screamed the whole way to the window, and the wholeway to the ground, two stories below. He then vanished into the night, limping badly, but alive.
Ron was a little amused that Truck had jumped out the window; but hell, he didn't blame him. He would have tried the same thing, had it been him. At the same time he was also disappointed; now they would have to hunt him down and kill him. That could take hours, if not days.
"You still have to find and kill Truck," Hood said. "We don't need noenemies lurking around," he added, going down the stairs.
"Don't worry," Ron replied. "After watching him for two weeks, I found his major weakness."
"What's that?" Hood asked before getting into their stolen cars.
"The man loves pussy too much! He'll slip up, just like all the others," Ron laughed devilishly.
"Yeah, well let's just hope so Ron, 'cause that's what you said about Jay, too. And he's been running from us for two years," Hood said seriously, his anger beginning to boil thinking about how Jay had been evading the m for so long.
"Jay will pop up sooner or later. Just like Truck."
"Let's hope it's a lot sooner," Hood said, getting his anger back undercontrol.
After Hood and Ron left the house, they walked to their separate cars, got in, and drove off. Ron headed for his job at the 16th District; and Hood went to be with his girlfriend Britney, who was now three months pregnant and his son, Lil' Robbie.
Veronica walked over and handed Jay a hot cup of coffee, then sat downbeside him as he cautiously sipped the steaming brew.
"So, Jay, how have you been?" she asked. "It's been a few weeks since I last saw you."
"I've been fine, Vee. Staying low and watching the watchers," hesmiled.
Veronica could plainly see all the stress and pain in Jay's eyes. Every time she looked into his eyes she saw a broken man. And
Black Scarface
since he was a good friend of hers, it hurt her to see him this way. "You having company tonight?"
"Yeah, I have someone special coming over here tonight," she grinned.
"Who is it this time?" he asked curiously. "A lawyer, accountant, police chief?" he joked.
"No, it's neither. And it's not a him. It's a woman," she smiled. "So. You've been with women before. What's so special about this one?" he asked, sipping on his cup of coffee, looking over the brim at her."She's one of my major client's wife. Tonight will be our second time together," she smiled.
"The guy must be crazy introducing his wife to you," Jay mused. "He don't know," she grinned.
Jay placed his coffee cup on the table and looked into Veronica's beaming face. "So, whose wife is it?"
"It's a secret that I can't tell anyone, yet."
"So, you planning on blackmailing her some day?" he asked.
"Not if I don't have to," she laughed. "Right now I'm being paid very well for my services, but who knows what will happen in the future?" she added, a questioning look on her face. "You know my motto Jay, ‘A broke bitch is worse than a dead bitch'!” They both laughed.
"If you ever plan to blackmail some of those rich white clients of yours, you'll need some solid proof or else it's just your word against theirs."
"Don't worry about that Jay, I got this," Veronica said confidently.
When Jay finished his coffee and stood to leave, she walked him to the front door. Before he could open his mouth to ask, Veronica went into her robe pocket and pulled out a few hundred dollar bills.
"So, you was ready for me, huh?" he smiled, as she passed him the money.
"What are friends for?" she smiled, dragging him into her arms. After they had embraced in a long hug, Veronica watched as he walked away, got in a small grey car and drove o
ff.
Half an hour later, a Yellow Cab pulled to the curb in front of her house and an attractive white woman stepped out, she paid the cab, and walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. When Veronica opened it,the woman smiled and stepped inside. She was a tall brunette with light green eyes and a gorgeous model-like face. They had met while shopping at Sak's Fifth Avenue; one of Veronica's favorite places to meet wealthy white clients. They had exchanged phone numbers and only phone calls for two weeks, and then they met at the Holiday Inn on City Line Avenue and had hot, steamy, vigorous sex.
Veronica had learned quickly that the wife was far freakier than the husband and she had no idea Veronica was sleeping and creeping aroundwith both of them.
After a long explosive kiss, the two women walked upstairs to the bedroom, which was also the recording studio. Veronica slid off her silk robe and lay across the bed waiting for her temporary lover.
The attractive, kinky woman had no idea she was about to be recorded in digital living color by the highest quality equipment on the market, just as her husband had been many times before her. Veronica smiled and welcomed her with open arms.
Chapter Thirty
On Quincy's first day in the juvenile hall, he got into a fight with two members of the Rolling 60’s Crips, and although he didn't back down, thebeating he took made him wish he had.
The Hoover Crips and the Rolling 60’s Crips were arch-rivals, and now that Quincy was a member of the Hoover Crips, he would always beon the lookout for enemies from other gangs.
After the beat-down Quincy made himself a sharp shank to protect himself with. He swore to himself the next time someone tried, or disrespected him they would end up with stab wounds all over their body. And he meant it!
In the meantime he started lifting weights and associating with other members of his gang. All the other members soon learned that Quincy hadplenty of heart. And gang-banging was the life he was willing to live and die for.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania...
Tasha was growing into a tall, beautiful young woman. She was now a fifteen-year-old freshman at Overbrook High School in West Philly. Not only was she an A+ honor student, but she was also a member of the cheerleading squad.
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