Chapter 1 #2
We counted the money from the last lick we hit.
For the last few months, I slowed down on the robbin’ shit, but Sergio had been begging for someone to snatch his shit.
Every time I saw his goofy ass on social media, he was flashing his money and jewelry.
He went live, bragging and showing all the money and drugs in his house.
His actions were so foolish, I assumed it must have been a setup, but it wasn’t.
Logic suggested we run up in his shit, but I declined at first. I figured someone as flashy as Sergio would at least have a tight security system or at least be heavily armed.
Then he fucked around and disrespected Naiari at the local corner store, and I needed to teach him a lesson.
Logic assured me it would be an easy lick, and he never lied.
We burst through the doors of Sergio’s townhouse and walked back out with no issues.
Of course, Logic’s ass knocked him over the head with the butt of his gun, but the rest was smooth sailing.
There were no cameras or alarms anywhere, and he made things even easier for us when he left all his duffel bags out in the open.
Not only did we take the product, but we also grabbed his jewelry.
I knew this cat named Gully who ran a pawnshop out west, and he always made sure to look out for me.
We ended up making a nice little profit after turning in his chains and watches, plus the money we made from selling his work.
We made sure to travel a few cities over to sell the dope, and it paid off in a major way.
We robbed Sergio last Thursday, and we had unloaded all the product and tripled our money.
It was by far the easiest lick I had ever participated in.
After we finished counting the money, we split it three ways and went our separate ways.
There were a few places I needed to hit up, plus I had to drop my money off at my stash spot.
I couldn’t trust my family not to steal, so I paid someone to let me stash my shit at their crib.
It was all the motivation I needed to hurry up and get my own place because I hated depending on others.
When it came to money, you couldn’t trust a soul.
“You ought to be glad a nigga is even here taking care of you and your fucking kids. I go to work every day, working my fingers to the bone, and this is the thanks I get? I can’t even come home to a home-cooked meal while you’ve been sitting on your ass all day!”
“Tone, I’ve been throwing up all day. The only time I got out of bed today was to use the bathroom. I told you I would order you some food, baby. I’m sorry,” my momma pleaded.
My nostrils flared when I heard my mom pleading with that mothafucka.
Ever since he moved in with us, they argued nonstop.
My momma always seemed to attract men like him, and I hated it.
I thought that after her last boyfriend went to jail, it would finally be the three of us—her, my sister Lyric, and I.
Instead, she found herself back with another man who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
“Bitch, I don’t want any fast food. I work hard to keep this house filled with groceries every month.
You’re gonna get your lazy ass in the kitchen and make my dinner.
I don’t care that you’re sick. It’s not like you work a job or bring money into this house.
The least you can do is make sure I’m fucked, fed, and taken care of.
I’m about to run to the liquor store, and when I get back, there better be some pots on the stove!
” The door slammed as Tone made his way out of the house.
I was in the middle of writing a new song when they interrupted me with their bullshit.
Music served as an escape for me. It was the only place where I felt like I could express my feelings without worrying about someone else’s judgment.
I never shared any of my songs with anyone except my close friends, because they were more for my therapy than anyone else.
My homies kept telling me I needed to book a studio so I could lay some tracks down, but I hadn’t made a move yet.
Plus, those sessions cost money, and I needed to stack mine.
Knock. Knock.
“Can I come in?” Lyric whispered as she stepped into my room. I smiled and nodded as she closed the door behind her. We were only three years apart, but Lyric was my baby, and she knew it, too. I would do anything to make sure she was safe and cared for, because no one else seemed to.
She took a seat next to me on the edge of my bed.
I continued to write in my notebook while her head rested on my arm.
She was still wearing her cheerleading outfit from practice.
She begged my mother to let her try out this year, and she couldn’t contain her excitement when she made the team.
Football season hadn’t started yet, but I had promised her that I would be there to cheer her on.
The sounds of light snores caught my attention, and I realized Lyric had fallen asleep on me.
It wasn’t out of the norm for us because we were truly all each other had.
My mother cared more about the love and affection of men than she did about her children.
She wasn’t abusive or anything like that, but she also never protected us.
I had gotten my ass beat by a few of her boyfriends in the past, while she would sit there and cry.
Never once did she speak out against what they had done.
I used to try to protect her from the vicious ass beatings, but in return, she would take them back the next day.
Instead of coming to her rescue as much, I focused on caring for Lyric and making sure she was safe.
I did my best to protect her because I knew if anyone ever hurt her, I would kill them.
I went ahead and laid her on my bed and got my clothes together so I could take a shower. My phone chimed, indicating a new text message. When I checked it, I smirked seeing my best friend, Naiari’s, name.
Cocoa Puffs: Do you like it, or does it make me look childish?
She sent me a picture of her outfit. This was a constant thing with us.
Naiari always wanted my approval, even though she knew how to dress better than all the girls in her class.
She was in her senior year, and for some reason, she obsessed about looking her best. Personally, she would have looked gorgeous in anything she put on, but I couldn’t tell her that, or she would complain that I wasn’t seeing her vision. Whatever the hell that meant.
I replied to her message and told her the outfit was straight.
Cocoa Puffs: Gee, thanks for all your help.
I gave her a thumbs-up, knowing she would be fussing at me about it later.
Ari and I had been friends since I moved to Liberty Heights when I was nine.
After my father was killed in a drive-by shooting, my mother decided the best thing for us to do was leave town.
When we arrived in Liberty Heights, the environment was vastly different from what I had grown used to.
There weren’t any junkies walking the streets or boosters setting up shop on the sidewalk in my hometown, but they were in abundance in Liberty Heights.
Jonah Hills was the next town over, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was in our neighborhood.
That was why we chose to hustle and do our dirt in Jonah Hills.
There were more people with money and nice things.
Although our neighborhood wasn’t as clean or kid friendly, I spent most of my time outside playing, where I met Naiari.
The moment I laid my eyes on the chocolate beauty, I saw stars.
The boys on the basketball court teased me about it and called me a sucka, but I paid them no mind.
She and her friends were jumping rope and singing songs together.
I thought about approaching her, but her presence intimidated me.
She seemed different than any girl I had ever met.
It took me weeks to finally work up the nerve to talk to her, and when I did, it was because some boy was picking on her.
The moment I saw him toss her backpack on the ground, I rushed to her rescue.
I beat that little nigga’s ass until one of the neighbors stepped outside and threatened to call the police.
After I finished, I stepped right over him to help Ari pick up her things.
She remained quiet until we reached her house.
She thanked me for helping her, then scurried up the steps to her front door.
When I turned to leave, she called out to me before rushing back over to me.
Ari threw her arms around me, causing me to freeze in place.
Affection wasn’t something I was used to, so it took me a moment to adjust. From that moment, the two of us became thick as thieves.
Even at a young age, I learned that my looks could give me an advantage.
Women, both old and young, complimented me on how handsome I was.
There were times my friends and I would get into trouble, triggering car alarms and stepping on flowers.
The women would come outside yelling and fussing until they laid eyes on me.
My dad said the Joseph men were blessed with good looks, good dick, and the gift of gab.
I didn’t understand his statement fully until I became a teenager.
My father, Emmanuel Joseph, was called Blue Devil in our old town because of his ocean blue eyes and dark skin, and I was his twin in every way.
Many people often accused him of having contacts until I was born with the same colored eyes.
The kids called me a freak for having weirdly colored eyes in contrast with my deep mahogany skin, but women gave me a completely different reaction.