Qwess nodded in agreement, all the while starting at Maserati with murderous thoughts.
Maserati saw that he was going to get away with his bullshit and started talking noise.
“Yeah. I told you the niggas was pussy!” he assured anyone who would listen. He took special care to say it within earshot of the reps from the magazine. Qima shot him a contemptuous glare and grabbed Qwess’s arm.
“Could you take me back to our truck? I’m ready to go. I’ve had enough of this.”
Qima snatched Qwess back to reality. He’d almost forgot she was there. Here he was about to smack this nigga up in front of reps from the hottest magazine in hip-hop. That’d be real good for business, he thought.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” He signaled to Flame, who was still trying to get an angle on Maserati and his crew.
Flame reluctantly withdrew and joined Qwess. Together they navigated through the crowd of oohs and ahs back to the Maybach. Before they climbed in, Qwess looked to Hulk. “I’m dead serious. I refuse to let that shit slide. Ya dig?”
Hulk nodded. “You don’t have to. Just pick a better time, all right.”
“No doubt.
Qwess climbed into the driver’s seat and burned rubber peeling out of the reserved parking space.
When they arrived back at Qwess’s house, Qima came inside to talk to Qwess while the rest of her crew loaded the equipment into their Expedition.
“I just want you to know that I’m proud of you for not showing your ass. Most brothers would’ve thought that they had something to prove.”
Qwess nodded. If she only knew the thoughts that were raging through his mind at the present moment.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he agreed.
Qima extended her hand. “Well, I guess this is it. Thank you for showing me a good time.”
Qwess feigned a smile while shaking her hand.
“Don’t mention it. I hope I gave you enough info to go with the cover story.”
Qima chuckled. “Now you know it’s not up to me who gets the cover. Nice try, though.”
Qwess grinned. Qima continued, “I will do everything in my power to see that you do, though. You deserve it.”
With that Qima turned to leave. Qwess watched her switch with a little more authority than usual. Under different circumstances he would’ve had to tap it. But for now his plate was just too full. Qima was cute, but she couldn’t hold a candle to the other chicks he was knocking off. He was on his fourth model, third actress, and still hit one of his old chicks, an R & B singer, from time to time.
Qima was cute, but his plate was most definitely too full right now. Yeah, most definitely.
Chapter 6
Reece walked through the double doors into the visitation room. He saw a lot of familiar faces on his way to the officer’s booth and greeted them with a slight head nod. He showed the officer his identification. The officer told him his visitor was at table H7. Normally Reece would’ve spotted his visitor right away, but due to the crowded visitation room he could barely see three feet ahead. Now that he knew the table, he spotted his visitor right away.
Vanilla sat patiently at the table. When Reece approached the table she stood to greet him.
“What’s up, boo?” She hugged Reece tightly.
“Nothing much. How was the drive up? You have any problems?” Even incarcerated Reece was still trying to control things. He asked about her journey as if he could change things.
“Nah, it was uneventful,” Vanilla replied.
Reece’s eyes roamed over Vanilla in appreciation. She was still gorgeous. She had put on a few pounds in all the right places since Reece had made her stop stripping. Her creamy skin was smooth and soft. Her long hair was pulled up into a ponytail on top of her head. Diamond earrings dripped from her ears, and a huge rock weighed her right ring finger down.
“You look good, girl,” Reece complimented. “You put on a few pounds, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. You like?” Vanilla asked. She whirled around to let Reece see all of her curves. Her small waist made her ass seem larger than it actually was.
Reece nodded with a smirk. “No doubt.” He scanned the visitation room, looking at the room in the corner where they usually had their me-time. “What’s up with what you got on, though?”
Vanilla was wearing skin-tight jeans. She usually wore a dress of some kind so that she and Reece would have easy access for sex. When the urge arose, Reece would set it up with a guard so they could go to a private room when Vanilla visited. Looking at her now, all sexy and thick, he was ready for some action.
Vanilla frowned. “My aunt Flo in town,” she explained.
“Word?”
“Word.”
Reece licked his lips. “Is it on on, or just on?”
Vanilla playfully punched Reece in the arm. “It’s enough, nigga. You ain’t getting no pussy today,” she said. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back next week, and you can knock the bottom out of it. Promise.”
Reece smiled, and they sat down. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he mumbled.
Vanilla came to visit Reece three times out of the month. Reece even paid for her apartment in Richmond so that when he needed her she wouldn’t be far away. Throughout his whole bid Vanilla had been a permanent fixture, holding him down like an anchor. When Reece needed money, she brought it. When he needed drugs, she brought them. When he needed sex, she came. Literally and figuratively. When he needed to convey a message to the streets, she was his female Hermes. No matter how minimal or major the task, when Reece called, Vanilla answered.
It seemed like just yesterday to Reece that Vanilla and her stripping cohort, Cretia, had enjoyed their first threesome with him. In reality, it was more like five years and change. During their numerous encounters, Vanilla had hinted that she was down to put in work for Reece, but he couldn’t see himself putting trust in a woman for anything other than his sexual pleasures. However, Vanilla was persistent. It wasn’t long before King Reece put her to work. During the now-infamous Crescent Crew War, which had cemented his status in the underworld, Reece had used Vanilla to set up a rival. Testing her loyalty, Reece killed the adversary right in front of her to see how she would respond. To his surprise, Vanilla’s heart seemed to be just as cold as his. He actually saw her smile when he killed the man.
Still, his comrades urged him to murk her, too. She had witnessed Crew business, and only Crew members lived to tell that tale. However, Reece vetoed their suggestions. For some reason he felt that she wouldn’t betray him. So, against the behest of his comrades, he spared Vanilla’s life. So far, Vanilla had proved him right.
Vanilla played her position better than some of those same comrades who had advised him to dispose of her. She had become his trusty ride-or-die throughout his whole bid! Even before he came to prison Vanilla had shown her loyalty to Reece. The whole time he was with Destiny, Vanilla was in the background doing things for Reece that he had felt Destiny was above doing. She was Reece’s personal freakazoid. In return, Reece took care of her just as he did anyone who was on his team.
Vanilla reached across the table and caressed Reece’s hand. She gazed into his eyes. “So, are you ready or what?”
“Ready? Hell, yeah. I’m ready!”
Vanilla chuckled. “I know that’s right.”
“Damn right. So, what’s going on out there?”
Vanilla exhaled. “Same ole shit. Ain’t much changed.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So, how’s the club?”
“Don’t worry. The club is fine,” Vanilla assured him. “Qwess comes by to get the money every week. Your money is fine, Reece.”
Reece mocked surprise. “What? I ain’t say nothing about the money. I ain’t worrying about that,” he said, lying through his teeth. He knew damn well if something happened to his money, he was going to flip.
Vanilla pursed her lips in disbelief. “Yeah, right. Anyway, I got a message for
you from Samson. He sent word by some Mexican that he is dealing with now.”
This was what Reece was waiting to hear. Vanilla had taken the four-hour journey to deliver this news in person. Reece knew the government was monitoring all of his communication.
“Is Samson back in the States?” Reece whispered. “What is it?”
“Well, he said he has a surprise for you, but he couldn’t tell you until you get out.”
“Oh, yeah? You seen him?”
“Nah. How would I see him all the way in Mexico?”
Reece paused for a moment, contemplating whether he wanted to let Vanilla in on all the goings-on. He needed to know, so he asked, “Well, the way I hear it, he is not in Mexico.”
“What?!” Vanilla exclaimed. “That’s crazy.”
“Yeah. No shit, but that’s the word I’m getting.”
“Hold up, Reece. That’s crazy. Why would Samson come back? He’s still wanted on murder charges and everything else. I know he doesn’t think just because you locked up, the feds ain’t gonna still want his ass?”
“Nah, like I said, it may not even be true. Ya know what I’m saying? But just keep your ears and eyes open.”
Samson was Hulk’s twin brother and Reece’s bodyguard in the free world. He had been with Reece at the hangar the day he was arrested. When the feds were attempting to bust onto the tarmac, it was Samson who cleared the way for Reece and his woman, Destiny, to board their flight to Mexico. Reece murdered an FBI agent in cold blood so Samson could catch their flight. Reece and Destiny never made it to Mexico; Samson did. He was calling the shots for the Crew now from exile in Mexico. His only line of direct contact to Reece was Vanilla.
“Reece, king, if he was in the States I would know. Trust me.”
“Okay. Just keep your ear to the streets.”
With the finality of that statement, Vanilla moved on. “I’ll be so glad to see you free,” she said, stroking Reece’s goatee.
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
“Because this is not the place for a king.” Reece didn’t know how to take her compliment. The last thing he wanted was a serious relationship, especially with Vanilla. She was cool, but she was not the relationship type, not for someone like Reece. After the ordeal with Destiny, his trust in women was shattered and nonexistent. He would need an angel from the heavens to restore his trust.
Vanilla already knew Reece’s feelings when it came to relationships, so she put his fears to rest.
“Reece, don’t get sentimental on me. I’m not looking for anything or expecting nothing. I play my part because you’re a genuine person. Nothing like the monster everyone perceives you to be. Besides, it’s not like I’m not profiting from our arrangement.” Vanilla tried to sound opportunistic so as not to give Reece a true indication of how she felt. However, there was no way to disguise her love for him. It was evident when she looked at him.
“Yeah, I know that’s right,” Reece agreed. He knew how she felt, but it just could not be. “But listen, Vee,” he told her. “When I walk out these gates next week a free man, I’m going to remember this. All that you’ve done. It means a lot to me. Hell, I thought I would have had to kill you by now.” He said this with such ease that it seemed he was joking. Yet Vanilla knew he was dead serious. “You surprised me, though. I plan on changing the game. Only a few cats know what I plan to do when I touch down—”
“Reece, you know you can’t jump back out there right in the trap,” Vanilla interrupted.
“Calm down. Calm down,” Reece soothed, motioning with his hands. “Have you ever known me to be stupid?”
“No.”
“A’ight then.”
“But everybody keep talking ’bout how when you come home it’s gonna be on, and yada yada yada.”
Reece chuckled. “I feel ya, but I control my circumference. What Reece want, Reece get. A’ight?” Vanilla nodded.
“Good. Now I need you to tell Qwess to be here at eight a.m. sharp, and no matter what he say . . . no parties.”
“All right, I’ll tell him. Anything else?”
“Yeah. What’s up with the lease on the apartment?”
“It’s up next month. You want me to go ahead and start moving?”
“No. I want you to renew the lease, all right?”
Vanilla was confused.
“Just do it. Trust me.” Reece stood. Vanilla followed suit. As they walked around to the vending machine Vanilla asked, “You ain’t get no more letters from that bitch Destiny, did you?”
Reece didn’t answer, so Vanilla continued.
“I hope not. How that cop bitch gon’ shoot you, send you to jail, and then try to act like everything is straight. I better not ever see her. I’ll kill her myself.”
Reece knew she’d have to get in a long line along with everyone else before she could do that. It was hard enough calling off the dogs before. Destiny was a marked woman. She had managed to become the only person to ever infiltrate the infamous Crescent Crew. She had seduced their leader, claimed his heart, then revealed herself to be an undercover federal agent. She had even shot him in order to arrest him. While he was down, Destiny had written him letters every week, proclaiming her love for him, and sending him photos of their child. Reece never responded.
“You don’t have to worry about her. She’ll get hers,” Reece told Vanilla.
Destiny was begging to see Reece. Once he got out, it was going to be impossible to protect her if she insisted on seeing him.
Destiny was only one problem Reece had to deal with upon his release. He actually had a more pressing problem upon release. One he had to play by ear. He knew the Crew wasn’t going to let this other decision stand uncontested, but what choice did they have? Reece was his own man. Reece called his own shots.
Chapter 7
Flame cruised down Murchison Road in his hometown Fayetteville, North Carolina, better known as Fayettenam. He was in his Mercedes SL with his best friend 8-Ball riding shotgun. The top was dropped, letting the beautiful June sun shine on them while they bumped music from Flame’s new unreleased album.
“Damn that beat bumping,” commented 8-Ball. “Who did it?”
“Qwess. I told you he stepped his game up. The nigga retiring from rapping, but he still doing the beats. Shit, nigga getting a quarter mil per track,” Flame explained.
8-Ball nodded his head, then turned the music down. “Yo, man, I been meaning to ask you something, too. It seem like you be kissing that nigga Qwess ass. What’s up with that?”
“Qwess ass? What you mean?” Flame challenged.
“You know what I mean! Qwess tells you not to come to the hood too much, and you don’t. Qwess tell you to cut off childhood friends, and you do it. Hell, you only even fuck wit’ me half the time. It’s like this nigga yo’ daddy or something.”
Flame was partially offended, so he held no punches. He turned onto the campus of Fayetteville State University and pulled into a parking spot. He turned the car off but kept the music on. He looked 8-Ball right in the eye.
“See, it’s like this,” he began. “Ever since I met the cat he showed me love. Improved my situation. And he never broke his word with me. He told me he was going to make me a millionaire. I am—a few times over. He told me to watch out for old friends because they become new enemies. Look at J.D. and them. They got beef because I ain’t get them out of jail for their bullshit. Hell, so far everything he told me has been true. So, until he’s wrong I’ma listen to him.”
8-Ball pondered for a moment, but came right back. “So, you saying fuck the hood. Fuck the niggas that had your back?”
“Had my back!” Flame exploded. “J.D., they was ready to send me to jail over a piece of pussy I ain’t even hit! And they the OGs of the hood. So, imagine what the li’l niggas will do.”
8-Ball was confused. For all his wit, he still wasn’t too bright. “So, what you saying?”
“I’m saying, the niggas that show me love, I got love for them. Otherwise, I
can’t fuck wit ’em. I got too much to lose. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” 8-Ball whispered. He really didn’t understand. He actually thought Flame was selling out, but since he shared his riches with him he didn’t want to rock the boat. Instead 8-Ball suddenly turned the music up.
“Man, fuck all this soft shit. Let’s go over to the park and see what kind of hoes out here. I know we ain’t come over here for nothing.”
“No doubt.” Flame cranked the Benz up, and they rode over to the park.
Broads of all kinds were out around the basketball court watching students and civilians ball. When Flame and 8-Ball rolled up, several heads turned to see the source of the music. Everyone who looked nodded in appreciation of the wide-bodied Benz sitting on twenty-two-inch Lorinser rims. The candy silver matched perfectly with the chrome rims, making the whole car look like it was aluminum.
Flame stepped out with 8-Ball right behind him. They walked to the edge of the court and observed the game. It wasn’t long before girls surrounded them, obviously local college girls.
“Ooh, this is nice. Are those diamonds?” a slim, cornrowed coed asked. Fuck kind of question is that? Flame thought.
“I never seen silver shine so hard,” another female stated.
“Silver?” Flame scoffed. And these are supposed to be the educated broads? Damn, thought Flame. “Naw, baby. This is platinum,” he corrected.
It was apparent these chicks had seen him on videos by the way they were jocking him. Flame had never had problems getting girls before, but since his music career had blasted off it was senseless the way broads threw pussy at him.
He put these chicks in the gold-digging category and treated them as such. A half hour later he and 8-Ball were leaving the park with a sexcapade scheduled for later that night.
Later, Flame and 8-Ball were reminiscing about a previous escapade as they waited for their food at a mom-and-pop rib shack.
“Yo, man, I’m telling you, ball, shit was tight as fuck. Remember the time we was in Japan and the room-service chick freaked us?”
King Reece Page 5