Chapter 4 #2
I jogged up the stairs and tapped on the door a couple of times.
I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my shorts and surveyed the neighborhood.
Bro lived in Jamoca City, MI, one of Everly’s most prominent black neighborhoods.
To stay in Jamoca, you had to make crazy bread.
Which wasn’t a problem for bro. Obviously.
The thing about it was, the governor didn’t give a fuck about blacks, so the property tax and the price tag on everything out here was outrageous.
I didn’t too much give a fuck about Jamoca, although it was a nice ass spot for blacks, I was cool on it.
There was a target on Jamoca City. It was just about twenty minutes outside of Brickhaven. All the young hitter niggas swung around this way to steal from their own people. Was easier to hit them than it was for them to go across the bridge to hit the rich white muthafuckas.
After standing there for a couple, the door opened and Kiss let me in. Before stepping in, we did our handshake.
“What up doe, fool?” I spoke, with a smirk. “Got company?”
He exhaled and ran his hand down his head. “Hell yeah. She on her way out this bitch tho’.”
“Mmph,” I said, coming out of my Jay’s. “Say you got that old thang back huh?”
“You know that bitch never left. She was in her feelings. Had to fuck some sense in her big ass head.”
“Who you talkin’ about, nigga? Ramani asked, wearing a frown. She eyed me up and down. “Hey X.”
I chucked my chin. “Mani. What’s good?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Definitely not that nigga,” she said, rolling her eyes at Kiss.
On her way to the door, Kiss grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. “Shut yo ass up. It’s a lot good about a nigga.”
“I can think of one thing and one thing only,” she mumbled.
I walked away.
Didn’t give a fuck about what he had going on. I was cordial with Mani and that was about it. I didn’t have a relationship with any of the women my brothers fucked with. Not because they ran through them like crazy but because I just didn’t give a fuck.
I walked into the kitchen and hit the refrigerator, knowing he’d have a couple of bottles of freshly squeezed juice.
Kiss was like that. Serious about his health.
He kept a refrigerator full of healthy, herbal shit.
If I wanted a shot of fresh ginger or a turmeric shot or some wild healthy shit like that, I could hit his crib for the free.
I grabbed a green juice and closed the refrigerator seconds before he walked in, exhaling. “Swear to God if it wasn’t for the pussy on that bitch, I would have really cut her ass off.”
I snorted. “Pussy gon’ be the death of you niggas, I swear.”
I sat on the barstool, cracked the bottle open and took a sip of it. Frowning, I took it from my lips and looked at it. “Fuck is in this shit? Straight vegetables? All I taste is celery.”
“That’s what it is, nigga. Celery juice,” he said, standing at the opened refrigerator. Reaching towards the back, he grabbed another green juice and tossed it at me. “This one sweeter. Like the green one from Suja, without all the sugar.”
“Whatever the fuck that is,” I said, not knowing what the hell Suja was. I cracked the seal on the new one and took a sip of it. Much better. I downed it within a few seconds.
Kiss sat across from me on a barstool and cracked open a bottle that I could easily assume was carrot juice because of its color. “You watched the news?”
“Bright and early,” I said before burping. “Caught the seven o’clock joint.”
Kiss nodded. “Me too.” He mocked the news anchor. “Brutal killer at large!”
I laughed and shook my head. “She was shook.”
“Every last one of the muthafuckas in Everly shook, nigga.”
News about British and her brother came out this morning.
Two bodies found dangling on light posts in Kingston Hills, MI last night.
Mutilated. Everly County’s most gruesome crime scene yet.
It’d been a few days since I did what I did.
Would have had them out there raw the day after but…
I put them on ice. Waited for the third of the month for a specific reason.
I liked three’s, remember? That was how I handled dirty work.
Every single time I had to do something I wasn’t particularly proud of and needed to deliver a message I waited for the third to make it as public as possible. It was a ritual. My stamp.
Muthafuckas in the hood speculated. They didn’t know what happened exactly, but a few people spotted shorty driving Jada’s whip around the hood then…
a couple of days later, she’s found strung up on a light pole on her block, with her brother the same way, on the light pole next to her.
Both lights purposely busted out. It was hush, of course but the murder…
it had the Christ family written all over it.
A message that was delivered plain and clear.
It was lights-out for whoever that went against the grain.
“Good,” I seriously said, my eyes shifted up, staring across the island at him.
He shook his head, finished his drink and tossed it across the room to the trashcan. “What we on?”
“Need to go to the D in a couple weeks,” I said.
“Something off?”
“Nope. Everything is legit, for real.” I cleared my throat. “Got a feeling tho’. Just need to go put eyes on shit. Feel me?”
He nodded. “Felt. What day? Gotta make sure it ain’t overlapping with shit.”
I smirked. “Second Monday. It’s not. I already checked the schedules.”
He turned his mouth down. “Aight, bet it up then. Trip to the city. We on that. Been a minute since we blessed them niggas with our presence anyway.”
I stretched. “Hell yeah. Well overdue.”
If scheduling allowed it, I liked to pull up to locations to check on things personally.
Yeah, we had people to do quality checks and shit like that, but I preferred to be hands-on.
Before the business picked up, I was very hands on.
On location multiple times a week, various places, using the private jets to carry me where I needed to be.
That was at the beginning though back when we had a clientele list of around five.
That number had since then quadrupled. And while some would still consider that small scale, I didn’t.
I didn’t want to do business with a lot of muthafuckas.
I liked to know who I was connected to. And so far, the people I was connected to was solid as hell.
I didn’t want shit to disrupt the flow of what I had going on so…
if shit with Jay wasn’t solid, I needed Big G to damn near come down and tell me.
Because He couldn’t, I just had to trust my gut, follow my intuition and do my due diligences.