Chapter 3 #2
I chuckled. “Oh yeah, I stole that shit from her dumb ass.”
Bully paused and bussed out laughing.
“Nigga, you ran off on that bitch?”
I smirked. “Hell nah…I walked out to my car, fuck you talkin’ ‘bout run?”
We laughed as Bully shook his head. “What’s the moves for the day then?”
“We feed the streets, you take ya cut, and my girl get ha ring.”
Bully nodded. “Say less, my nigga. I’ma send out a message and get me a snack.”
While his big ass walked off to do that, I hopped in the back of my car, pulled out the baggies and the scale that Islah put in the duffel for me, and started to break that brick down while lookin’ at rings on my phone for Islah.
I felt good, like I was moving for a purpose other than paying bills and lookin’ good. I was laying a real foundation with my girl that was built on trials and tribulations.
As I multitasked and was in my thought, I got a notification from Islah.
There were more houses. With a smile on my face, I stopped everything I was doing and looked them over, with one of them catching my eye.
It was in a nice side crib in the hills, away from the block, but that didn’t matter to me.
I scheduled a showing time, which gave me enough time to put some shit together.
Once I saw Bully come back, I was about to hop out when I saw him walkin’ to my driver’s door, opening it, and hopping in.
“Nigga, what the fuck your big ass doing movin’ my seat?”
“Nigga, I thought you said we were gettin’ to the money? Break the shit up, and we gonna hit these licks.”
“Well, shit nigga, let’s go then.”
Me and Bully together were like Shaq and Kobe, Future and Drake, even fuckin’ Jay-Z and Kanye in his prime with this dope shit.
Our phones rang like Christmas bells back-to-back.
The more I cut the brick and bagged it up, the more our phones screamed, fiends ready to get their fix, and once either of us answered our phones, Bully yelled, “We in motion, baby, and charging delivery!”
The first few stops were light, but by midday? We were activated, no lil’ orders. Niggas were buying to make money off my work, and we were out of crack, but the duffel bag was full of green.
“Damn, we out for the day?” Bully asked.
I shook my head. “Hell nah, nigga, take me by the crib.”
Our phones was still goin’ off while we were on the way to the house to re-up. We were both tellin’ niggas we were comin’ back. While I was smiling ear to ear, thinking about the look on Islah’s face when her nigga comes through bigger than she expected.
When Bully got to the complex, I hopped out quick, running up the steps and unlocking the front door to see Islah sitting in the living room.
“Damn, baby, you good?” she asked as I went straight to our bedroom.
“Yeah, baby, just needed to re-up. I’ma be in late tonight,” I yelled as I filled another duffel bag. “You want me to order you some dinner?”
I walked back out, and she looked at me strange. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded as I walked over to kiss her.
“Yeah, baby, I’ma order you some dinner, be lookin’ for it.”
She nodded as I rushed out, phone in my hand, placing a delivery order for her favorite pizza spot. I hopped back in the back of the car.
“Go ahead to the first drop, I’ma get this shit right.”
Bully drove off, and we were back active in every hood. From the Bloods to the Crips to goddamn MS-13, I was welcomed—I was respected. And pause, I gave them that good shit.
I was never on edge around them niggas, but something had the hair on my arms standing up, and it wasn’t the Cali breeze.
It was instinct.
Every time we stopped the car, I felt it. A pause too long, a car that stayed parked but always around when we were, a face that stayed looking in our direction too long.
I felt like somebody was counting my moves, maybe watching, maybe waiting. And shit, I couldn’t tell if I was just paranoid or trippin’, but either way, I put that feelin’ to the side and finished servin’ the fiends until we were out again.
On the way back to the hood, I broke Bully off with his cut and stared at all the money I made in a day.
“Man, can you imagine when I get this new load from OG? We walked with this shit, but we ‘bout to skate with that new shit!”
Bully looked at me through the mirror. “Whenever you are ready to slide, my nigga, I’m with you.”
When we got back to the block, niggas were still holding down the corner like they were really seeing plays today. We hopped out, and I walked around to the driver’s seat.
“What you finna do?” Bully asked.
I looked around. “I gotta handle something real quick. If Islah comes out, tell her I had to hit a lick.”
Bully shook his head. “Iight, nigga.”
I pulled off, putting the address in my GPS and heading up to the hills.
The city lights started to thin the higher I drove. I pulled up to the property, and the house was amazing to see in person. I could see why Islah liked it. As I turned around to look at the view, a few things caught me by surprise: no noise, the streets were cleaner, and the air felt… different.
“Hello, are you Mr. Maxell?” a voice from behind called out.
I nodded and walked over to her with both duffel bags in my hands.
“I’m so glad you made it. Let me show you inside,” she said, trying to make small talk.
I walked through slow, looking at every inch of it.
In the kitchen, I could picture Islah cookin’ her ass off.
The master bedroom had large windows, and I could see me fuckin’ her in front of them.
The backyard already had a playground that I could see myself with a blunt between my fingers, pushing my kid on the swings.
I could see what she was trying to get to, and I wanted it. I wanted all of it.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
The smile on the realtor’s face, which she had been holding the whole time, was slowly fading into disbelief.
“Excuse me?” she said low.
I walked over with the duffel bags in my hand and dropped them at her feet.
“I believe that is the full asking price. You can count it to make sure.”
She looked at me, then back down at the money as she picked it up.
“Ummm… Give me a few minutes, sir.”
“Take your time,” I said with a smirk.
She walked back to the kitchen, and I walked around the living room, responding to niggas still waitin’ for that white girl and checking on Islah.
After about ten minutes of texting back and forth with Islah, I heard heels tapping across the floor in my direction. I turned around, and Ms. Realtor Lady had papers in her hand and a huge smile on her face.
I signed every page without reading it twice and handed them back to her as she handed me the keys.
“Congratulations, Mr. Maxell.”
The metal felt cold in my hand, but my chest was warm than a mothafucka.
I walked the lady outta my shit and drove back to the hood. I had exed a task off my list and was laying down the foundation that Islah wanted.
By the time I got back around the way, I was ready to lay up, to decompress with my girl and finally breathe. I hopped outta my car, stretching for a second, when that feeling came over me again, and I looked around.
I didn’t see anyone, but I heard a click, almost like a camera click.
I reached for my waist, not even knowing where to aim. My chest was tight, but I was ready to protect mine.
But when nothing made a move, no car doors opened, no niggas rushing me from the shadows, I took my ass up the steps. I wasn’t gonna wait around for trouble.
When I walked inside, the house was quiet. I took off my shoes, dropped my keys on the living room table, and walked back to the room.
As soon as I opened the door and she smiled at me, everything in my chest softened.
I instantly took off my clothes and fell into bed with her. Islah kissed all over me as I hugged her tight.
“I missed you, baby,” she said.
I held on to her tight. “I missed you, too.”
Islah put on a movie, and I laid on her, listening to her heartbeat to calm my nerves.
I had a feeling niggas were comin’ for me…my feeling was never wrong.