15. Juelz
I can’t believe this shit! Once we pulled up to the warehouse I quickly got out and headed inside.
“What the fuck happened.” I said looking around at the crew.
“I’m good bro, but you gotta watch the tape,” Zelan said to me and they played the video.
I knew this shit was gon’ come back and for Posh to already have a team of shooters that bitch had to been have team.
I was fucking steaming. This bitch knew not to awaken the beast! I’d kill everything moving, when it came to my family! I looked my brother over to make sure he was good.
“I’m good, bro,” he assured me. “You see that shit though? I guess she might try again when she finds out that she missed.”
I was ready to rock this bitch. I had never in my life harmed a woman, and I prayed daily that I never would have to, but my prayer was unanswered because Posh was gon’ die!
“Meek line up the crew and put a million-dollar bounty on her head. I want this bitch, and anyone working with her, I want brought to me ALIVE!”
Fuck the fact that this bitch was related to me and fuck the fact that we killed her bitch ass brother.
That nigga stole from us. Every time I tried to make an exit, something always pulled me back in.
I was never scared to die, but I’d always wanted to protect my family.
They didn’t ask for this life; it was me who got into the streets.
Zel just wanted to do anything that I did.
He always looked up to me, and I wasn’t going to let any harm come his way.
“I want my mother, and daughter heavily guarded until this issue is resolved. My fuckin’ mother better not get a damn splinter in her finger, if she does, you will DIE!” I yelled at everyone. “Update me when you find this bitch.”
I walked out heated as fuck. I needed some pussy; I was stressed, so I was headed to one of my jump-offs to take it out on her.
I sent Asia a text to let her know that I was on my way over.
By the time I pulled into her driveway, I had second thoughts and my mind was back on Ciera.
We didn’t fuck, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
I knew that I had left a little abrupt, and it might’ve come off a little rude. That wasn’t my intentions though.
I sat parked in the driveway for a few minutes thinking on how much I really didn’t want to hear Asia’s whining about me staying the night.
That’s some shit I just didn’t do. I put my car in reverse, backed out of the driveway, and headed toward an after-hour spot, called Jazzy's.
Whenever life started weighing heavy on me, that was my spot.
There was something about sitting in a dimly lit room with smooth jazz playing through the speakers, a good cigar in my hand, and a glass of top-shelf alcohol that always helped me think.
My phone beeped and it was Rock texting me.
Rock: Just checking on you, bro. Making sure you good.
Me: I’m good, I’m about to hit up Jazzy’s.
About twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot at Jazzy's.
The valet took my truck, and I made my way inside.
The live jazz band played softly on the stage while conversations floated throughout the room.
The cigar scent mixed with Teakwood filled the air.
This place was a whole vibe, and honestly, it had become one of my favorite spots to decompress.
I took a seat at a table in the back, and the bottle girl came up to take my order.
“You want the usual, Juelz?”
“You already know.”
She walked off to get me a bottle of cognac and came back placing a glass in front of me along with one of my favorite cigars beside it. I had just finished clipping the end when Rock walked in.
“I see your ass already started drinking without me.”
“I was trying to see if life got any better before you got here.”
“Bruh.” We both fell out laughing before dapping each other up.
Rock took a seat at the table and ordered his usual.
For the next hour, we did what we always did.
We talked shit, laughed, and argued over the Knicks game because his funky ass wasn't a Knicks fan, he was a fan of the Sixers.
That was always a big topic for us to go back and forth about regarding the sport.
After the shit talking, we finally discussed some business.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't thinking about all the bullshit waiting to enter my damn thoughts again.
“You know what this city is missing?” Rock asked before taking a pull from his cigar.
“What?”
“A real elegant cigar lounge.”
I glanced around the room with my eyebrows slightly raised. “Nigga, ain't this one?”
“Nah. This a jazz spot that sell cigars.” He pointed around the room.
“I'm talking about a luxury cigar bar.” He leaned forward, getting excited. “I’m talking, leather chairs, memberships, and private lockers for members. Top-shelf alcohol. Live jazz on Saturdays, sports nights, open-mic nights, and other events.”
I chuckled. “You thought all of this through I see.”
“For years, man.”
“So, why you didn’t do it?”
“Money.” Rick shrugged. “I got bread, but it'll take a lot to kick things off and to keep it up. That's why you should open it nigga. You love this shit, just as much as I do.”
I sat there thinking about what he said for a minute. “Open it up,” I finally told him.
He looked at me with a frown. “What?”
“I said open the shit up.”
He chuckled. “I'm serious, man.”
“So, the fuck am I.” I sat back in my seat.
“Nigga, opening something like that is gon' cost some real cash,” he said glaring at me.
“I know,” I said, sipping on my drink.
“I'm talking hundreds of thousands, Ju.”
“Nigga, I know.”
“You hearing me?”
“Yeah,” I laughed.
He looked confused. “So, why you telling me to open it?”
“Cause I'll give you the money.”
“What?”
“Everything you need, I got you.” He stared at me like I'd lost my damn mind.
“Juelz.”
“I'm serious,” I pressed.
“You'd do that for me?”
“You've been down with me almost ten years. In those ten years you've never crossed me. You've never stolen anything from me. You've protected my family like they were your own. When everybody goes home to their own lives, you the one sending me them random-ass texts at two- three in the morning.”
Rock laughed. “You good, bro?”
"Every damn time, the same text,” I laughed.
“I be making sure you ain't sitting over their bout to off yourself.”
“I know.” I nodded appreciatively. “Z and Meek definitely be checking on me. But Zelan's unhinged ass be like, ‘nigga take the gun from yo head and stop being a bitch, before I tell Ma you still over there crying.’” I mimicked my brother and me and Rock fell out laughing.
“That's definitely his ass,” Rock said downing the last of the brown in his glass. “I appreciate you man, I'll get things started. Thank you.” He smiled.
“No need to. I'm investing in my brother from another mother.”
He lifted his glass. “To our brotherhood.”
I picked my glass up to toast with him. “Brothers for life.”
Neither one of us knew it then, but this very conversation changed our lives and bonded us closer together.
I didn't really have any best friends. Meek was technically my brother’s best friend and mine by default, but that was my brother through and through.
However, Rock was my brother too. He was secretive in certain aspects, but I hoped that one day he would really open up and tell me what was really going on with him.