Chapter 9
nine
. . .
Jahsir
Although I grew up on the same side of the tracks as Crimson and Rashad, I went to school with Que.
My aunt and uncle were rich, but there was family tension.
So instead of my mother allowing me and my sister to move in with them, she instead opted for them to pay for my schooling.
This is how I ended up at the same private school as Que.
I saw firsthand how he showed up in all the latest and was doing everything necessary to get attention.
He wanted to prove himself, and that's how we eventually became cool.
Que took notice of me. While everyone showed up with the latest Prada and Balenciaga, I showed up in my Fear of God hoodies or Supreme.
I kept it simple with some white Air Force Ones.
I easily stood out amongst the other students.
When word got around that I was from the low end of Mulholland Falls, my reputation preceded me.
The rich girls wanted a taste of the bad boy energy, and the boys wanted a lesson on being cool.
Most of them were afraid to approach me, with the exception of Que.
He started with speaking, then eventually graduated to short conversations.
The nigga would code switch whenever he spoke with me.
I thought it was hilarious. He wanted a glimpse into the hood world so badly.
Eventually, I introduced him to Rashad. Once I showed him where we hung out, he started sticking around more.
Every so often, Que would show up at the basketball court to shoot with us or pull up in whatever sports car he was driving at the time to shoot dice.
He wanted a lesson in Being a Street Nigga 101.
Hanging around with me and Rashad and fucking the girls on the low end was a crash course. It gave him the validation he needed.
Que was one of the main reasons I didn’t want anyone to know I was in town.
He was conniving and manipulative. He threw the rock and hid his hand every fucking time.
I could never trust him, not fully, at least. I knew he was jealous of me, and Rashad too.
Some niggas are so greedy that they want their world and yours too.
He used us to get a glimpse of the life he admired.
And we used him too; he was just another body for the job.
But that’s when life went left. Bringing him on board cost Dro his life, and Rashad four years of his.
Finding out he was Scarlett's father struck a nerve. It thickened my need for revenge. It wasn’t a nigga in town that didn’t know Red belonged to me.
I didn’t give a fuck about being absent.
You never touched a nigga’s lady, whether they were present or not.
So, at this point, it was time for me to pay Que a visit.
It would take everything in me not to beat his ass.
It would take even more for me not to kill him.
But make no mistake, I was going to end him. It was just a matter of when.
I stepped up to the porch of his mansion. Typical, the nigga still lived home with his mother. I rang his bell, then checked a notification that had just come through on my phone. It was Red.
Red:
Morning, bae. I am trying not to beat a dead horse. But this past week has felt different. Are we good?
I read her text but didn’t respond; instead, I just tucked it back into my pocket.
Women had a way of complicating shit. I couldn’t walk into this meeting with her on my mind more than she already was.
She reminded me of Scarlett, they both made me soft.
And Que was conniving. While me popping up here would be a surprise for him, I still needed to be vigilant.
There's no telling how many surprises he’d have for me.
“Good afternoon. How can I help you?”
“Yes, I am here to see Quincy.”
“Right this way, sir.” I followed the butler in, taking note of their security and the exits.
He led me up the stairs and into another suite that could have been another house.
A light-skinned woman who looked like she had one too many fat transfers greeted me, holding a baby a few months older than Scarlett.
A set of twin boys were also holding on to her leg, but they were much older, three years old at the most. She led me to another room, and that is where I saw him.
The glow of the massive flat screen TV flickered across the sleek marble floors, creating shadows against the high walls of the mansion’s game room.
The scent of beer and weed lingered in the air.
Que’s attention to the game was apparent.
He clicked the controller rhythmically and sank into a plush leather chair.
Call of Duty Black Ops took over the screen, how ironic.
He didn’t even see me, so I made myself comfortable.
“Handsome set of twins you have here,” I spoke up. He paused the game and stared at me. His sheer look of terror and shock told me everything I needed to know.
“Jahsir, what's up, man? It's been a long time.”
"It has,” I nodded. “It's been a very long time. I would ask you to catch me up, but I see you got a lady here, three beautiful kids. Life's been good to you."
"Thanks, man.” He added, sitting up in his seat.
“Parents out of town again. I know how much they love to travel.” I knew everything about him.
He overshared so much over the years, and I collected the information and stored it in the back of my mind.
See, he failed that portion of Being a Street Nigga 101.
You keep your mouth shut. Not one person should know everything about you.
You stay quiet about your moves. But because Que was a boastful muthafucka, he overlooked that advice.
“Yes, traveling again. They’re in Tokyo.” Silly nigga was still messing up. “So, what's up, man? What you need?" he asked
“Just here to collect.”
“Collect?”
“Nigga, you surprised? You can’t be.”
“Aye, man, that wasn't my fault.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and locking my hands together. Cocking my head to the side, I stared him in his eyes. “What wasn’t your fault? Say it. I want to hear you say it.”
“It's been years, Jahsir. The details are fuzzy. Hell, I can’t remember the name of the bitch I fucked last night, let alone some shit that happened four years ago.”
“Well, let me refresh your memory. You managed to get away with more than you were supposed to. I had to lay low, and Rashad got time, and Dro got murked. Now, how does that happen?”
“There were bullets flying everywhere. How is Dro getting killed my problem?”
“You didn’t cover him. He was shot point-blank.” I had to remind this nigga, because clearly he thought I was stupid. Matter of fact… “You must think I’m stupid! Ain’t no flying bullets hitting point blank. Meanwhile, you're out here raising a family, huh? Have your boys met their sister?”
“I didn't steal money from you, Jahsir.”
“Then what the fuck you call it?”
“We knew it was a chance we wouldn't all break even.”
“Breaking even is one thing. You getting away with more than me and Rashad is another. Considering we brought you into the fold, you should have a little more respect. But see, I told Rashad you were a snake. You took his money, mishandled Crimson, and now you’re lacking on your responsibilities to your own child. ”
“Crimson is a grown woman who made grown woman decisions. It's simple.”
By this point I was pissed. He talked about her like she was nothing.
And this is what I was trying to avoid. I didn’t need to be getting off target, because if he said the wrong thing, I’d splatter his fuckin brains all over this tacky ass carpet on the floor.
I bit the inside of my cheeks and calmed myself.
“I’mma make this easy for you. We got away with 720k. Dro died, which means you have his 180, am I right?”
“Jahsir man, it's been years.”
“If you're a real businessman, you’ve had years to triple it. Surely you didn’t spend your money on TVs, alcohol and bitches. You should have no issue paying up. I want my 60 thousand, and Rashad needs his, too.”
“ I don't have that kind of money lying around. I have a family now; I have kids to provide for.”
“How will you provide for them if you're dead?”
“Are you threatening me now? After all we've been through?”
“No, I'm promising you. I can't stand a scheming greedy nigga. Especially one that doesn't take care of their kid. I’m not trying to be in town longer than I need to. You got four months to get my money. I’ll see myself out.”
I had learned the hard way that if you give a nigga room, he’ll think he could take the block.
I wasn’t in the business of handing out free passes, not anymore.
Still, something about the way he looked at me pissed me off.
He acted like I stole from him, and I was the one to put him on.
The betrayal was on him and only him. I didn’t need that money, not even a penny, but Crimson did.
And although I planned to give her the world for the rest of her life, that nigga was gonna pay up.
Punk ass didn’t even entertain the conversation about his daughter.
I slid into the driver’s seat and let out a long breath.
Lighting my blunt, I took a pull. I gave the nigga four months, that was me being more than generous.