Chapter 11
CASH “MONEY” BANKS
Stilettos was packed for Clyde’s birthday party. Me, Jelani, Slim, and Fontaine had p to celebrate our boy—but I had another reason for being here.
Clyde used to roll with us heavy before his girl got pregnant a few years ago. Now he owned a barbershop downtown in one of my buildings. Not that I needed an excuse to hit the strip club, but it worked out because I needed to catch up with Nairobi.
She hadn’t hit me up since I bumped into her with Kyree at the Emerald Bar.
I knew she’d been working, but I still needed updates.
Aside from this shit with the Eastland Crew, things had seemingly returned to normal.
Less ODs and no more missing money which meant the New York plug had probably fallen back.
Still, my gut told me that was temporary while he and whoever he was working with were taking time to regroup.
I spotted Nairobi walking the floor with two other dancers. Her tiny neon green bikini top and g-string sat high on her hips, leaving barely anything to the imagination. Fontaine almost choked on his drink when she came into view.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the infamous Banks Crew,” she said, grinning devilishly as she popped her gum. The red light from the stage flickered over her oiled skin.
“Sup—” Jelani started.
“Bambi,” she said smoothly with a wink, stepping into our section.
“Sup, Bambi,” he repeated, trying not to stare too hard.
She sauntered over to me, trailing a finger down my chest as she leaned in close.
“You gon’ have to pay me for a dance, boss man,” she whispered.
Out the corner of my eye, I caught Fontaine’s hand tighten around his glass, jaw clenched. My boy was really gone over her.
“You know you driving Fontaine crazy, right?” I said, peeling a Franklin off the stack beside me.
“That man ain’t worried about me,” she laughed, tucking the bill into her bikini top.
She spun in one fluid motion and dropped into my lap, pressing her back against my chest. The lights flashed overhead as she rolled her hips to the beat of the music.
You would’ve thought she was a dancer for real.
I gritted my teeth, willing my dick not to brick up.
She twirled again, straddling me and looping her arms around my neck.
“Gotta make it look believable. Kyree has eyes in here,” she whispered, grinding slowly.
Fontaine shot up from his seat, nose flaring, like he was ready to risk it all. Slim snatched him back down by his collar before he crashed out.
“You ‘bout to have my boy swinging on me tonight,” I chuckled. “We need to go before he really starts trippin’.”
Nairobi glanced back at Fontaine, slowly licking her lips to mess with him before standing and flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Private dances are five hundred,” she said loud enough for him to hear, and threw one last look his way before strutting out of the section.
I followed behind, careful not to meet his eyes.
“Nigga, don’t be on no dumb shit tonight,” I heard Jelani warn him.
Nai moved through the club like she‘d worked there for years. Yo Gotti boomed through the speakers as we made our way to the private rooms.
Inside, a single pole was mounted on a small center stage. Nairobi sank into a worn leather against the wall, stretching out like she could finally breathe.
“You ain’t right messing with that man’s head,” I said, dropping down beside her.
“He’s drunk,” she shrugged, slipping off her heels with a groan. “Ugh, my feet are killing me.”
She plopped them onto my lap like I was her assistant and let out a satisfied sigh the second I started rubbing them.
“No cameras in here,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I deactivated them before I clocked in.”
“So you got something for me, or you just wanted to finesse a foot rub?” I asked, working my hands over the balls of her feet.
She cracked one eye open. “Can’t it be both?” she teased, wiggling her toes in my hands.
“I should go get Fontaine—I bet he’d be on his knees doing this right now.”
“Hm.” She sat up on her elbows, eyes gleaming. “Wonder what your little girlfriend would think if she walked in.”
I paused, caught off guard at the mention of Jasmine.
Nai clocked it immediately and bobbed her head.
“Ohh,” she said, a slow smile spreading. “You actually like her. That’s cute. But, she’s not a little… common for you?”
I shoved her feet off my lap. If it was anyone else, I would’ve snapped, but she was being petty from me curving her a few months ago.
“Nai, I’m not in the mood for this.”
“Fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “But you owe me big time for this whole thing. Kyree is so fucking wack, I’m tired of pretending I like him.”
I leaned back and remembered how that grimy nigga was grinning in my face at the Emerald Lounge like I was stupid. I couldn’t wait to put one in his head.
“It was me, Genesis, Portia, and this new girl, Poppi,” she continued. “We pulled up to some mansion in College Park.”
“Since when Kyree got a spot over there?”
“It wasn’t his place.”
“He was meeting someone?”
She nodded. “Finally met the New York plug. Some dude named Marcus. He’s apparently a big-time hitter trying to expand down here.”
I racked my brain trying to place the name. It didn’t ring any bells. We never really dealt with niggas from New York like that. Our plug was from Miami—it was closer and less drama.
“Anyway, it was a few niggas from Marcus’s crew, Kyree, and some of your folks that I recognized from the file Fontaine gave me.”
I exhaled through my nose. “So they did tighten up.”
“A little. After y’all handled Rahmel and Daemon, Marcus has been keeping a low profile. But make no mistake—he’s had his eye on Atlanta for a minute.”
“I don’t care where he’s from,” I said. “Shit don’t move here without me giving it the green light.”
Nai stood and drifted over to the pole, hooked an arm around it, and twirled lazily.
“I told you—they think you have too much power,” she said, not looking at me. “What don’t you get, Money? It doesn’t matter how fair you are.”
She stopped spinning to fix her eyes on me. “They’re still salty about what you did to Rahmel and Daemon. And Marcus has them believing he can take you out—or at least carve out a space for them here.”
She plopped back down on the couch and slipped her heels back on.
“You said it was some other BC niggas there. Who?”
“Grizz, Chris, and Derrick.”
My stomach sank. They were dudes I considered family. Grizz ran our trucks. Derrick and Chris had been running with us since they were in high school. They were supposed to be solid. I trusted them. At least I thought I could.
“These niggas,” I muttered, rubbing my jaw.
“Marcus didn’t get into too many details while we were around,” Nai said, adjusting her bra strap. “But… he made a hell of a first impression.”
“How?”
Her brows knitted together. “Poppi’s a little green.
Sweet as hell, but was jumpy all night. She accidentally bumped into him and spilled some shit on his shoes.
It wasn’t that deep. She apologized, of course.
But Marcus blacked out. He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the wall in front of everybody.
He called her everything but a child of God, and was looking around daring somebody to say something. ”
“Kyree ain’t say shit?”
She gave me a dry look. “Come on now. You know that bozo didn’t do a damn thing but stand there like a deer in headlights.”
“So, nobody did anything after he put hands on a woman?”
“Me.” She smiled proudly.
Of course she did.
“I hopped in his face and told him he must’ve lost his mind putting hands on one of my girls.”
“Nairobi…”
“What?” She threw her hands up. “Poppi was hysterical, and the rest of them dudes were useless. I wasn’t about to let some crazy-ass man from New York think he can treat those girls any kind of way.”
“He get physical with you?”
“He tried,” she shrugged. “Puffed up his chest real crazy-eyed like that was supposed to scare me. When he realized that wasn’t doing shit, he started laughing. Talkin’ about some ‘I like you.’”
She shook her head. “The man’s off, Money. Like dead-behind-the-eyes off. He knows the product he’s pushing down here is dirty. He knows about the overdoses—he just doesn’t care.”
I dragged a hand over my chest and tried to rub out the tightness that had settled there. I didn’t respect men who put hands on women—that was pussy shit.
“You think Kyree’s holding anything in his spot?” I asked.
She sighed, rolling her neck. “Probably. He’s dumb, so I’m sure there’s a flash drive, a burner phone, or something. But I haven’t been over there yet.”
“Would you?”
Nairobi crossed her arms. “I’m not fucking him, Money. If it comes to that—add another comma to my fee.”
“Nobody’s asking you to do all that,” I said as I stood and headed toward the door. “See if you can get the girls to go over for another private party. I’ll front the cash if that’s what it comes down to. Have them keep him busy while you go do your little spy shit.”
“We’ll see,” she huffed.
Fontaine passed me as I left the hall of private rooms.
“You cool?” I asked, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m straight, bruh. My bad about earlier, I just—” he slurred, running a hand down his face. “Why you ain’t tell me she was working here?”
“‘Cause she’s not your girl. Since when you keep tabs on how she moves?” I dropped my hand. “Nai’s the homie. We not on anything like that.”
“Anymore,” he mumbled.
I wasn’t about to ask how he found out. I just stepped aside and let him go.
Back in the section, Clyde was drunk off his ass, still making it rain on the dancers.
“You know he went to see Bambi, right?” Jelani said, nodding in Fontaine’s direction as I sat next to him.
“Ain’t got shit to do with me,” I replied, putting my hands up.
Slim leaned in. “How bad is it?”
“Pretty fucking bad,” I said. “Call a meeting at the farmhouse tomorrow. I’ll text you with who all needs to be there. I’m out.”
After what Nai told me, the last thing I wanted was to sit around and get drunk. I dapped them up, and didn’t even say bye to Clyde—he was occupied with a thick one bouncing her ass in his face.
I took my phone out of my pocket as I headed to my car.
Can I see you?
My phone immediately chirped with a notification as I started the ignition.
Future Wife: Hmm, I don’t know. This is giving sneaky link hours…
It’s only a sneaky link if it’s a secret. You keeping me a secret from someone, Jas?
Future Wife: Here you go. Yes, you can come over if your stalker ass isn’t already outside.
I smirked, cranked up the radio, peeled out of the lot, and headed to the only place I wanted to be tonight.