After scrolling through a few videos that either weren’t exciting or were too much for me to even think about trying, I found one where the girl was cute and the guy was kinda built like Street. In my mind, it was us, and I was trying to put myself all the way in the girl’s shoes. When that night came and I was put on the spot, I wanted to be able to perform. I paid attention to how she sucked his dick, took his dick, and threw her pussy back on him when she wanted more of his dick.
When a text alert interrupted the porno, I had to hurry up and wipe the pre-cum from between my legs with my panties and then put on a new pair.
Imani: Open the door. I’m coming up the block.
Me: Okay. Be down in a sec. Don’t ring the doorbell.
The fact that I’d gotten moist meant I was really ready to have sex . . . well, at least to me. Even if I didn’t perform like ol’ girl, I was sure I’d still give it up without telling him to stop out of fear. Clearing the browser history on my phone, I hurried out of my room and to the door to let Imani in.
Imani’s mom didn’t care that my parents were unconventional or that my dad trapped from the first level of our house. As long as I promised to do her hair for free, she let Imani come over without a problem. I was cool with that, especially since I’d made a few dollars off her coworkers from her modeling my styles at work. It hadn’t been much, but if I kept hooking her up with freebies, I thought I might build up a real good clientele.
“Damn, you weren’t playing about getting out of the house,” I greeted my girl.
“Yup, you know it. Your house is a vacation spot from my boring-ass house. My mom got so many rules that I don’t know if I’m living in a halfway house or the Army,” she joked but was dead-ass serious. “She said she wants three free styles for letting me come early, by the way.”
Trinity might’ve gotten into my ass on several occasions, but she didn’t ride me hard like Imani’s mammy rode her. Imani could barely go places, didn’t have name-brand clothes, and was talked down to on a regular like she wasn’t shit. The only reason she got to come over here was because her mom benefited. I did her hair, and she’d borrowed a few dollars here and there from my mom before. Now that Imani could work, though, she’d be the one chipping in on the bills when her momma was short. That shit right there I most definitely couldn’t relate to.
My ass whippings came with gifts, shopping sprees, and money. The only reason I was waiting on the 18 mark like a junkie in need of a hit was because I wanted the right to tell my parents no without consequences. I had a rebellious soul that was waiting to break out. Imani, however, was passively waiting on her eighteenth to disappear. That was where she and I differed. I wasn’t groomed to run.
“Hey, bae. I got a big bag of stuff together for you. Remind me to give it to you before I leave later,” I reminded her. I always gave Imani my hand-me-downs instead of throwing them in the trash. And if we were at the mall and I was in a friendly mood, I’d cash out on her a few outfits to walk out of the mall with, too. Me looking out for her had always kinda been my thang. You couldn’t put a hashtag of stinginess behind my name, especially when it came to my best friend.
“Aw, thanks. But don’t be trying to sweeten up because yo’ ass gonna be out gettin’ the dick while I’m watching your li’l brother. I’m cool. There’s a Sisterhood of Hip Hop marathon coming on in an hour.”
“Great. Now I really don’t feel bad. Fair exchange ain’t robbery.”
My mom kept a fridge of food, thanks to the government. They gave us $500 a month for the three of us, plus we stayed buying stamps from custos who couldn’t pay for their drugs with cash. There were three kitchens in this house, and each pantry, shelf, and fridge was stocked to capacity. After grabbing us some snacks and a soda pop each, we retreated into the living room and watched TV. Cable was another thing Imani’s momma couldn’t afford for them to have. I swore I couldn’t survive with Netflix and Hulu alone, and she wouldn’t have even that if it weren’t for me giving her my login and password.
While she flipped through the channels trying to find something to watch, I busied myself, texting her how things were gonna go down ahead of time. Once my parents left, I wouldn’t have time for much talking. My boo was on standby only two minutes away and ready to pull up. After I’d texted him that we were on for tonight, he’d anxiously responded by sending another dick pic with the caption, We’ll see. I wanted every second I was secretly stealing to be dedicated to showing him how ready I was. I didn’t know why, but I felt like tonight was my time to shine or to step the fuck back and grow up a li’l bit more.
CHAPTER 6
CALVIN
I’d been in the basement hooking up a few bags for Porsha to sell tonight while the wife and I were at the cabaret when I heard her little friend scurrying up the driveway. Imani was so consumed by her phone that she had not noticed me coming from the side door. I waited until she went inside with Porsha before moving from behind the dumpster and taking a seat on the porch. I didn’t like dealing with my daughter’s friends. Because little girls could cause a lot of trouble for a man like me, I never gave them the chance.
“Five dollars, Cal. All I need is a five-dollar credit until the first of the month.” One of my regular custos begged for me to give him a credit on the cheapest packages of rocks I sold.
“You know I don’t do credit, nigga. Either come with my money—and it can be in all pennies if you got it—or stay the fuck from around here and outta my face, rollie.” I called most of the heavy-hitting fiends around here rollie because they stayed high. In the hood, once you were stone-cold gone off the drugs, you were always rolling anyhow.
“I’ll have it when my check comes. You can be on the porch waiting for the mailman with me,” he pleaded one more time.
“Ay, on the real, rollie, quit mafuckin’ talking to me about credit before I silence ya ass for good. I already told you what it was around here, so be gone with that shit. I’m done talking.” Whipping my heater from the waistband of my pants, I loaded one up in the chamber, then looked him square in the face. “Five, four, three . . .” He ran away before I finished my countdown.
Terrified of feeling the heat of a bullet ripping through his flesh, he pissed his pants before being able to leap up and run away. I didn’t care about scaring a regular away. He wasn’t doing me any good today, and if I gave him credit, he’d never want to pay again. I didn’t get into the dope game to make friends. I got in it to make money.
Sitting back down on the porch, I set my pistol by my side and lit up a blunt. I’d been with Benzie all day and hadn’t smoked once. Though I’d put my piece in a nigga’s face with my li’l man strapped in the car seat and sold dope underneath where he slept, I didn’t want him mimicking me getting high. I wanted to raise a li’l monster, not a young ’head.
When I first got in the game, I was a young OG who had the stamina to bang with niggas twenty-four hours a day. I built a kingdom from a few grains of sand. I was seeing my family eat and live better than I did as a child and could have even imagined. At the same time, I kept the law off my back and bullets out of my body.
But every man has their day if they stay in the game. Old men were supposed to retire and live off the fat of the land at some point in life. I wanted to live out my life to spend my riches. My goal was to oversee my operation from another angle—out of the hood. I wanted to give my wife some peace out in the ’burbs with some wealthy wives, walkin’ a foo-foo dog or some shit. I wanted to give Benzie a big-ass backyard, playscape, and maybe a pond with some ducks in it. And I wanted to give Porsha her own li’l spot in a gated community away from all the bullshit the hood could bring to her life.
There was only one large hole in the plan, and that was that my team lacked the strength they needed to stand without my hands-on leadership. Though Street was trying to take a step on his own, coming at me like he wanted to grow my team and our revenue, he did not make me feel like he was going to be