Chapter 1
ONE
TWO YEARS LATER
Biggie had always lived in the city, so moving to Lake Elsinore had been an adjustment for him. It had only been a few days since he made the move, and he was bored. He missed his crew. He missed the bustle of the city and bossin’ niggas around.
There was a small crew here he was in charge of, and he had to admit most of them lil’ niggas was aight, but they weren’t his day ones. Still, he had no choice but to stay put, and at least here he could still make money—the thing he was best at.
Tossing the remote to the side, Biggie stretched out on the leather couch and stared at the big screen TV, not caring about the movie that played.
His life had taken a drastic turn when he got word that the law was on to him and his large operation of moving drugs in and out of LA.
Really, he moved drugs all through the West Coast, but he wasn’t about to go bragging about that shit.
He ran a tight ship, and he wasn’t about to go down for nobody.
So, here he was, hiding out and still getting some grind time in while living in this small city.
His iPhone ringing snapped him out of his thoughts. When he saw it was Demo calling, he quickly answered.
“What’s good?”
“You tryna go to the spot and check in on these lil’ niggas?”
“Say less,” Biggie replied, already standing so he could get ready. “Come swoop me.”
Ending the call, without a response, he knew Demo was on his way. He hated talking too much over the phone, and he knew his homie understood that.
Biggie and Demo had grown up together, and they had a bond like no other. Demo really was the only person in the world he trusted for real. His mom died when he was twenty years old, and he never knew his father. He was an only child, but Demo had always been like a brother to him.
Biggie walked up the stairs to his new home, appreciating the new set up he had.
Everything here was more relaxed versus back home in Compton.
Even his home felt like a place he could sit and stay awhile, versus the place he had back home, where the walls were bare, and he had minimal furniture.
This place had two levels, came furnished and painted, and he thought he could maybe buy some art to hang on the walls.
He knew the only reason he suddenly had an interest in interior design was because he had spent so much time within these four walls the past few weeks.
When he made it to the master bedroom, he walked into his walk in closet to grab a pair of gray sweats and the matching hoodie before he walked into the bathroom that connected to the closet and the bedroom.
The bathroom was decorated in a shade of green from a bathroom essentials bundle he bought off . Green was his favorite color because it reminded him of money.
As he prepped for the shower and then got in, he thought about the crew out here and how he could make this city more profitable since he would be staying awhile.
He knew he had to lay low, because if he did shoot correctly, nobody, not even the police, would know where he dipped off to.
Still, Biggie was an alpha—a take charge kind of nigga.
And he was happy as hell Demo called him with something to do today, because he felt an itch to be a menace in one way or another—even if he had to do it on the low.
By the time he got out of the shower, the mirror had steamed up.
He used his large hand to wipe some of the condensation away to look at himself.
He knew he was a handsome nigga. Bitches told him all the time.
His mama made it a point to tell him every day.
He also knew his 6’5” size intimidated everyone around him.
Let his mama tell it, he came out the pussy big ass hell, almost ripping her pussy in half.
Finished in the bathroom, Biggie lotioned his body, before dressing. Just as he put his fresh kicks on, his phone rang.
Seeing it was Demo, he answered, grabbing his wallet, keys, and gun from his nightstand. “You here?”
“Yea.”
“Bet,” he said before hanging up and sliding it in his pocket.
After making his way downstairs, to the front door, he locked up and walked to Demo’s brand new black Range Rover. Both their cars were registered under fake aliases.
“What’s up, nigga?” Demo fist bumped Biggie when he got in before pulling away from his house.
“Shit.” Biggie kept his head forward as he peered out the window. “What these young boys need a visit for?” He was curious to see what the impromptu call was about.
Demo had been tasked with keeping his ear to a row of trap houses they had out this way to see how they could expand and if there were any holes in the operation.
“Got word they ain’t too happy we in the city.” Demo kept his eyes on the road as he steered with one hand.
Biggie’s face frowned up.
“Fuck you mean? We run this shit.”
“That’s what I’m tryna figure out. I don’t know if it’s because they need to tighten up now that we’re here or somethin’ else. I called a meeting to air all that shit out, though.”
Biggie nodded and settled in for the ride. Like he said earlier, most of them lil’ niggas was cool, but there were a few he suspected were making a fuss about their presence.
It didn’t take them long to make it to the block where they had a stash of trap houses.
It didn’t matter where in the world they were, they would find the hood in every city.
Lake Elsinore had a few, but this one was where they set up shop for their operation years back when they first expanded out here.
Demo parked in front of a small white house with gray trimmings that looked like it was close to caving in on itself. A plethora of niggas loitered outside, no doubt waiting for them, and Biggie decided not to wait another second to bless them with his presence.
Stepping out the vehicle, Biggie adjusted himself and his clothes before slamming the door and moving up to the front door of the house.
“‘Sup, OG.”
“How you been, Biggie?”
“What’s happenin’ OG?”
Biggie gave head nods to everyone who greeted him with Demo walking right behind him. When he pushed his way into the trap house, he was met with even more niggas standing around and talking shit. When they noticed Biggie and Demo, they stopped, standing at attention like soldiers.
“The bitches still working?” Biggie asked, referring to the women who worked in the basement bagging their drugs.
“Yeah,” Antonio, the young boy who ran the traps in their absence, said.
Biggie eyed him. He was one of the niggas on his radar.
His attitude seemed to challenge Biggie the few times he had seen him.
He was in his early twenties and didn’t know shit about shit, so Biggie let him rock, but that nice shit was out the window now that he knew there was trouble being stirred up.
Antonio was tall with muscles, but Biggie could fold his ass if it ever came to that. The tattoos on his neck, arms, and even on his face didn’t intimidate Biggie at all, nor did his menacing eyes. Biggie would chew him up and spit him out.
Biggie eyed Antonio for several seconds. Antonio didn’t drop his gaze.
“Tell them to take the rest of the day off,” he nodded slowly.
“Nah, man. We can’t—”
“Aye,” Demo barked before Biggie could say anything. “Do what the fuck he said. I ain’t hear him ask you to do shit. He told yo’ ass. Do as you’re fuckin’ told, lil’ nigga.”
Biggie’s jaw clenched along with his fists as he waited for Antonio’s next move. The young nigga stared between the two OGs for a moment before sucking his teeth and pushing a couple of niggas out the way as he moved toward the door that led down to the basement.
Biggie and Demo exchanged glances.
“Tell all them niggas outside to come in here. Let’s get this shit over with,” Demo said to no one in particular.
A lil’ nigga with locs jumped up from his place in the tattered house to oblige Demo’s command when Antonio came up from the basement with a trail of women following behind him.
“Y’all will be paid for a full day,” Biggie said as they walked out the door.
A few of them smiled curiously at him, and he nodded back, appreciating their beauty and admiring their hustle but knowing he would never fuck any of them. He never mixed business with pleasure.
“What’s this meeting all about?” Antonio asked as soon as the last woman left the house.
Biggie frowned his face up at him and took a step toward him.
“You do realize you ain’t runnin’ shit, right?”
Antonio didn’t back down.
“I been holding these houses down the past three years, so I think I can ask a simple question.”
Antonio was a little too calm for Biggie and a little too comfortable. In a flash, Biggie closed the gap between them, knocking some lil’ niggas out the way in the process, before he grasped the collar of Antonio’s shirt and hemmed him up.
“You got it wrong, lil’ nigga. You can’t ask any questions without my permission. You got that?”
It pissed Biggie off that Antonio still kept his cool.
“You got it, OG,” he said quietly, but it was in a disrespectful way that only heightened Biggie’s anger.
Demo quickly stepped between the two of them, but Biggie didn’t let go of Antonio’s shirt.
“Big, come on, man. Too many people,” he murmured.
Biggie stared Antonio down for a few more seconds before he let him go, causing Antonio to stumble back slightly, but he caught his footing quickly.
While looking at Antonio, Biggie addressed the room.
“From here on out, you report directly to me and Demo. And if anyone has an issue with that, be a fuckin’ man and take it up with me. I’ll respect you a lot more and will probably let you live if you go that route.”
There was nothing else that needed to be said. Antonio had pissed Biggie off, and the only reason he still had breath was because Demo was right—there were too many witnesses. They were supposed to be lying low. Killing someone in front of twenty other people was not a good look.
Biggie turned and walked toward the door.
Niggas parted like the Red Sea. It wasn’t until they were in the truck and Demo pulled away from the curb that he relaxed some.
He didn’t trust a soul aside from the nigga driving the Range, and being in tense situations like that always had him paranoid.
It was clear to him that Antonio didn’t like him and Demo being around, so Biggie would make sure he lost the respect of the entire crew.
Had he been cool, Biggie would have let him continue to oversee the block. His loss.
“You hungry?” Demo asked, and then he chuckled. “I don’t know why I’m even asking.”
Biggie chuckled. He was always hungry and ready to eat.
“What you want?” Demo asked as he got on the freeway.
Flashes of the best tacos he ever ate made by the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on played through his mind.
He wasn’t even sure why, since he hadn’t thought about her in a while.
After they fucked, he thought about her bomb ass pussy and those tacos often, but it had been two years.
He guessed being back in the city resurfaced memories.
“I know a place,” Biggie said, leaning back in his seat. “I’ll tell you where to get off.”