I Ain't No 50/50 Type Of Chick

30. Jayceon

CHAPTER THIRTY

JAYCEON

“ I still don’t understand why he asked you to accompany me to this meeting. It ain’t like yo’ ass helped me get the money,” I said to Maleek.

When I left my crib earlier that day, I texted Boss and told him I had his money and asked when we could meet. Instead of just saying let’s meet up at the same spot that we did the previous times, all he responded with was, “Yo’ brother will bring you to me.” Like, what the fuck? I had only had two encounters with that nigga, and each time, I wanted to go across his fuckin’ head. I was tired of him talking to me like I was a fuckin’ child, and I damn sure didn’t like the fact that I had to be around Maleek’s Uncle Tom kissing ass. We still weren’t on good talking terms, and although I hated the distance between us, I didn’t like the person he ‘suddenly’ turned into when he was around that nigga. But as they say, the things people will do for money. But hell, who could I talk about? I was slowly becoming an example of that.

“Nah, I didn’t help, but I’m curious how you got it. Six kilos is a lot of weight to get rid of in the amount of time he gave you. So, how did you do it?”

I raised my brows as if he really thought I was going to tell him that shit.

“I got it. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, aight. Just make sure you let Boss know you got that shit on your own too, so if some shit pops off, I won’t have no dealings with the consequences that will follow,” he said, sounding like Cali.

The old and not so desperate me would’ve never easily accepted that kind of money from some niggas I didn’t know, especially ones who knew where I lived. For some reason, I couldn’t get that product sold for shit. Not even the homies I fucked with the long way would take a chance on me. Each time I approached someone, I was met with an excuse, some more credible than others, but it felt like someone was conspiring to keep me from making those sales. So, when those men came to me, I felt like it was my last and only hope, so I took the risk, hoping it didn’t backfire on me. I also knew Cali meant well, but again, time was ticking. I just hoped everything worked out in my favor because the last thing I wanted to hear was, “I told yo’ ass so’, especially from her ’cause I knew I’d never hear the end of it.

Maleek eased the car to a stop in front of a small convenience store, then turned the engine off.

“Why the fuck are we stopping here?” I asked, my curiosity piqued as I leaned closer to the window, scanning the surroundings with caution. The neighborhood didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Somebody is about to pick us up,” Maleek simply replied.

“Someone like who, nigga?” I pressed, trying to make sense of what the hell was going on.

“Look, Jay,” he said, glancing at me with a serious expression. “The place we’re going to meet Boss this time is one of his so-called ‘headquarters’ or whatever. As far as I know, the only people allowed there are him and his most trusted soldiers, which are very few. Since neither you nor I have reached that level of trust, he didn’t give me the address. He just told me to pick you up and come here to wait for someone.”

“I get all of that, but he could’ve just told me that shit. I could’ve come here on my own.”

“Again, he doesn’t trust too many muthafuckas. So, since he told me to pick you up, I’m assuming he trusts me a little more than he does you , or maybe he simply doesn’t trust yo’ ass at all.” Maleek clarified, flashing a taunting smirk.

“Too much fuckin’ secrecy for me,” I grumbled.

“You want this money, right?” Maleek asked.

“No doubt.”

“Aight then. Stop complaining.”

Right then, an all-black SUV pulled up next to Maleek’s whip.

“I’m guessing this is them. Now, when we get in the whip and to the place, I shouldn’t have to tell you again not to do or say anything that could get yo’ fuckin’ head blown off,” Maleek called himself schooling me.

I barely had a moment to respond when two muscular men appeared outside Maleek's car, their commanding gestures urging us to get out. “Don’t forget the money,” Maleek said as he pointed to the duffle bag resting by my feet.

With a quick motion, I grabbed the bag and opened the door. As I stepped into the other vehicle, one of the men leaned in closer.

“Hold still!” he commanded as he fastened a blindfold over my eyes, plunging me into darkness.

If Maleek hadn’t briefed me a little on what to expect, I would’ve for sure gotten my ass killed that day for a nigga touching me without my permission.

Once both Maleek and my eyes were covered, I felt the vehicle start moving. The ride was quiet, a little too quiet for my liking. However, I was almost positive that a gun was likely pointed at our heads the entire time. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours before the car finally came to a halt. When I heard doors opening, I assumed we had arrived at our destination.

“Come on,” a gruff voice barked as the same man yanked me from my seat by the arm.

Once outside, I could feel the heat enveloping us, a difference from the chilly air we had just escaped. We walked forward, disoriented, until after a minute's walk, our blindfolds were finally yanked away. Blinking against the sudden brightness, I took in our surroundings. It didn't take long to realize we had stepped into a warehouse.

Soon, Boss swaggered into the room with an air of authority that immediately commanded attention, then took his seat at the desk positioned directly in front of me. Just as Maleek had described him, he certainly didn’t project any friendliness. There was no greeting or even a nod in my direction. So, since he didn't bother speaking, I sure as hell wasn't going to. Despite that, I couldn't hate on the nigga’s swag. He stayed with a sharp suit on. That day, he wore a sharply tailored black suit that spoke volumes about his attention to detail and personal presentation.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I wanted you to meet me here instead of our normal spot,” he finally spoke, leaning back in the chair with his hands behind his head. “Well, you kind of caught me off guard when you texted and told me that you had my money today, a day earlier than you said you would. I would say I’m impressed, but I’m never impressed until everything clears.” Boss straightened up, his expression shifting to one of focus, and ordered, “Bring me the money.” He gestured to one of the niggas who had driven us from the store.

The guy approached with the duffle bag slung over his shoulder and handed it to him.

“Where’s the suitcase I gave you?” His voice was calm, yet there was an edge to it.

“It’s at my crib,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“That suitcase was important to me. It was given to me by someone close.” His tone hardened. “So, I need you to return it ASAP.”

“I gotcha.” I nodded, sensing the urgency in his words.

Boss nodded slowly, then focused on the duffle bag as he unzipped it. After peering inside, he met my eyes for a moment before peeling off his ski mask, revealing his face for the first time. I couldn’t recognize him from anywhere, but then again, even if anyone could, no one knew his real name, not even Maleek. The way Maleek described him, he was a ghost and only appeared in human form when necessary. Nonetheless, with him doing that, I took it as I was officially a part of the team since that’s when he said his ‘face’ would be revealed. However, his expression was unreadable, and it didn’t look like he was inviting me to join shit.

“It’s… it’s all there,” I confidently said, yet a lil’ nervous.

“Yeah, I see that,” he replied coolly.

Without another word, he opened a drawer with deliberate slowness and pulled out a torch lighter and a gun. I understood all too well what they were for. Having grown up in the hood and been entrenched in the game for years, I knew he was likely planning to use the lighter to check if the money was counterfeit, while the gun would serve as my impending penalty if it turned out to be fake.

I ain’t gon’ lie, I was scared as fuck at that moment. Beads of sweat began to form on my brow, trickling down as I struggled to keep my composure. I glanced over at Maleek, who was giving me a look like he knew I had fucked up in some way. In that moment, I kind of regretted not taking Cali’s advice. I should have listened. I also should have taken the time to verify that the money wasn’t fake. I was just so damn eager to get that shit to him that I guess, even if I had belief that it wasn’t real, I was too afraid to be disappointed if it turned out to be, so I didn’t bother checking and just took the risk. However, I should’ve known a man as calculated as Boss would’ve checked for authenticity.

Right when he was about to put the lighter to the money, a call came through to his phone, causing him to halt his movements. Upon seeing who the caller was, his demeanor instantly changed from a frown to a smirk.

“Give me a second. I forgot to silence my phone, but I gotta take this. This is my soon-to-be wifey,” he said, but instead of looking at me, he glanced over at Maleek and then answered the call.

“Hey, gorgeous. Is everything alright?”

No one was able to hear their conversation because he didn’t have her on speaker.

“So, you just called to talk to a nigga ’cause you’re bored?”

By the way he was smiling, his girl was definitely his weakness. He needed to be careful displaying that shit to niggas. Some would’ve definitely used that to their advantage if they ever had a falling out with him.

“Listen, baby, I’m kind of in an important meeting, but I’ll call you as soon as it’s over.”

After they exchanged a few more words, he ended the call.

“Aight, now where were we?” he said, and his nonchalant demeanor quickly returned.

Boss picked up the torch lighter, then retrieved a hundred dollar bill from the bag. As he brought the bill closer to the flame, my pulse quickened. The moment the fire caught the paper, I felt a knot form in my stomach. The bill ignited with alarming speed, flames licking at the edges and consuming it hungrily. Authentic currency burns slowly, while counterfeit bills turn into ash almost immediately. So, it was then that I knew I had fucked up.

Fuck! I silently cursed.

“Not this nigga done rolled up in here with some Monopoly money!” one of the guys blurted, whose voice sounded very familiar.

He, along with some other men, started laughing. Among them, only three of us remained silent: me, Maleek, and Boss. Although Maleek didn't say anything, his silence spoke volumes; that nigga was pissed. Maleek’s brows were furrowed, and his jaw was clenched tight. One of his fists was even balled up in the palm of his other hand, trembling slightly as he struggled to contain his anger. Then, there was Boss. His expression was something else entirely—a cold, piercing gaze that seemed to promise punishment, maybe even death. The look in his eyes was one of pure anger, letting me know this situation was far from over.

In a sudden and forceful movement, Boss emerged from behind the desk, and his hand clamped around my throat with surprising strength. With a quick shove, he pressed me against the wall.

“Muthafucka, do I give off the impression that I rode the short bus when I was in school or that I’m one of those niggas who another nigga can easily get over on?! Like, did you really think I was foolish enough that I wouldn’t check to make sure that shit was legit?! Huh, muthafucka?” His hand pressed firmly into my neck as if to emphasize his anger.

I struggled to find my voice as he tightened his grip around my neck, damn near cutting off my breath and leaving me in a state of panic. I honestly felt like that would've been my last day on earth and the end of everything I had ever known. I glanced over at Leek, and the expression on his face nearly shattered my heart. It appeared that he was on the brink of tears himself. In that tense moment, it was as if we were both trapped in a silent understanding—two souls caught in the same grim reality, contemplating the unthinkable.

As if Boss had a moment of remorse, he released his hand from my neck. I slid down the wall like a bitch, almost in happy tears, while still trying to regain my breath.

Right when I thought I was in the clear, he asked, “Jayceon, do you remember me giving you a glimpse of what would happen if you tried to fuck over me? Yeah, I’m sure you do,” he answered himself. “Well, I’m a man of my word. Handle my lightweight,” he told the soldier who made the comment about the monopoly money. “I’m sure you’ve been waiting to,” Boss included, wearing a smirk.

“Shid, now you know that’s my pleasure,” the nigga said, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

I wasn’t sure if he got a thrill from whooping niggas’ asses or if he was more excited that I was the opponent that day. I didn’t even have time to position myself in a fighting stance before he came over and struck me in the face. I couldn’t lie; that first hit hurt like a muthafucka.

“Ol’ pussy ass nigga!” he grunted while continuously bashing my shit in.

That nigga’s licks to my face and kicks to my abdomen were coming so fast that I didn’t have a chance to try to fight back. If I didn’t know any better, that nigga was a fuckin’ boxer or some shit based on the way he was beating my ass. His licks also started to feel personal, as if he was beating my ass for something I knew nothing about.

“Enough,” Boss ordered.

“Bitch ass nigga,” the nigga whispered before he drew back, huffing and smirking with a sense of accomplishment while I was curled over in excruciating pain.

In that moment, I recognized his voice or thought I did. It sounded like that nigga Draco whose hair Cali did. Again, I wasn’t sure, though. I also wasn’t in the best or any position to try to whoop his ass, but in due time. Boss then strolled over to me with ease. Once near, he kneeled next to me.

“Right game, wrong muthafuckin’ nigga to try to play that shit on! You know, for some reason, I’m in a good and forgiving mood today, maybe because I’m anxious as hell to call my girl back. See, if I were to kill you right now, that would take up too much of my time because you wouldn’t have a quick death… oh, no. And since me and my girl’s time is limited these days, being that she can’t talk to me as much as she’d like, nobody cuts into her time when she is available to talk. So, here’s what I’ma do. I’ma give you one last chance to redeem yo’ self. This isn’t a redemption for you to qualify to get back on the team. Nah, you only had one shot at that. This go round, it’s for your life.

You have three days to come back here with either my money or drugs. Either one makes me no difference as long as it’s the real shit. If I don’t receive so much as a text from you by Saturday night at 11:59 with you telling me that you got either, I’m killing you and yo’ brother, and I can guarantee that y’all faces will be all over the news that following morning with your family mourning y’all deaths. So, if you have an inkling that you won’t have either by then, I suggest you go ahead and discuss with yo’ mama or whoever about how you want y’all funeral to be laid out. But if you manage to get that fake ass money, which I’m assuming you thought was real, in a decent amount of time, I’m sure you’ll work extra hard to get my money or product to me in a timely manner in exchange for your and your brother’s life. Seventy-two hours. That’s all you gon’ get, nigga! Get this muthafucka out of my face!”

One of the niggas picked me up roughly and practically dragged me back to the vehicle, but not before putting back on the blindfold. The ride back to Maleek’s whip was just as quiet as going to the warehouse, only then, I felt it was more tension between Maleek and me. Once we were back in his whip, he didn’t say a word to me the entire ride, but he didn’t have to for me to know that he was pissed.

Once we pulled up to my crib, I faced Maleek.

“Leek―”

“Jay, just get the man his money or his products back to him… on time. That’s all I gotta say.” He then shifted in his seat and looked at me intently. “Just know, if you don’t, though, you won’t have to worry about Boss killing yo’ ass because I promise you that I will. At least I’ll go to heaven or hell knowing it was me who took yo’ life and not another nigga. Now, get the fuck out of my car and go clean yo’self up.”

I couldn’t even trip about Maleek being mad at me. That time, he had every right to be. As I carefully eased out of the car, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen, forcing me to clutch it tightly. The discomfort was unbearable, and I found myself torn between which was worse—my throbbing face or the agony radiating from my stomach. I paused outside the door, steeling myself for the confrontation with Cali and my face that I had yet to check, but based on the pain, I knew it was fucked up. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. Of course, Cali was chilling in the living room. The moment she caught sight of me, a wicked smirk spread across her face, and she leaped from the couch.

“Greed, in the end, fails even the greedy,” Cali quoted, shaking her head. “I told you, nigga. I told you,” she added with a hint of satisfaction lacing her voice. “Damn, you done got your ass beat twice in a week! Somebody got you real good this time. Let me see it!” Cali eagerly leaned forward, reaching out with amusement to inspect the damage.

I swatted her hand away.

“Aight, Cali! Damn! What do you want me to say? That you were right? Fine, you were right!”

I hated to admit that shit, but there was no escaping the truth. Part of me wanted to accuse her little boyfriend of this mess, but deep down, I wasn't one hundred percent positive. Sure, he had a similar voice and shared the same skin complexion as the nigga, but without solid proof, I couldn’t pin the blame on him conclusively. Still, I wasn't going to count him out.

“But, look, I’on want to talk about that shit,” I added.

“Fine!” Cali tossed her hands up and retook her seat on the couch.

I went over to the stove to see what she had cooked. When I lifted the lid off the skillet, I was met with the sight of shrimp pasta.

“Why would you make this when you know I’m allergic to shrimp?”

“I know. That’s why I made it,” Cali replied, shrugging insensitively with her eyes focused on the TV.

“For real, Cali?”

With a slight twist of her body, she turned to face me on the couch.

“Jayceon, the food available in that kitchen is not tailored to your personal preferences. Besides, the way your face looks, it seems as if you’ve gotten ahold of some shrimp already today. And just to clarify, you paid for a hair retwist earlier, not for a meal. If you would like a separate meal prepared for you, or if you want to continue with your hair service, you need to settle your payment first. I accept various forms of payment, including debit cards, credit cards, and cash, but the cash has to be real and can't be counterfeit.

“You also owe me four hundred dollars. I used the money you gave me earlier at the store, and of course, it was rejected. I’m sure you are aware of the reason behind that issue. Please take care of your debt as soon as possible.”

If Cali wasn’t a female, and I wasn’t in so much pain, I probably would’ve hit her ass that day, but I really didn’t have the energy to go back and forth, tussling with her.

“Oh, and make sure you sleep your ass up here tonight! I don’t need no blood on my sheets!” she shouted as I was headed to the bathroom.

After popping two Percocet, I winced as I examined my bruised and bloody face in the mirror. The swelling around my eyes made it almost hard to see, but I could still catch glimpses of the damage—deep purples and reds marring my skin. A bitter anger boiled inside me. Once I found a way to get either Boss’s money or the drugs back, I was determined to find out which one of those niggas did that shit to me. My thoughts quickly turned to that Draco nigga. I was definitely looking into him first.