A Gangster's Girl (6 page)

Looking at each other in disbelief, we laughed and said in unison, “What goes on in Cancun, stays in Cancun!”

The next day, it was time to head home. I had a great time, but I was ready to go. Believe it or not, I had started to get homesick. We arrived in Norfolk about 7:00
P.M.
and were home in no time. As we approached the door, Vegas noticed that it was cracked.

“Shhhh, be quiet,” he whispered. “Hold on. Don't go in.”

He pushed the door open a little and I managed to catch a glimpse. My condo was trashed! Furniture was turned over and stuff was everywhere. The anger must have been written all over my face because Vegas immediately put his hand over my mouth.

“Shhhhh. Don't say shit.”

It took all I had to keep from screaming. He rushed to the car and retrieved his gun from the trunk.

Just as Vegas entered the house, the burglar stopped in his tracks, standing right before him. Vegas held fire as he looked the young guy in his eyes. He recognized the teen as one of the young runners from out the way. He knew the kid was working for someone else so he decided to spare the kid's life. He had a better plan for payback in store.

In a matter of seconds, the kid ran out through the French doors. We looked around but found nothing missing. A lot of my furniture and expensive paintings were destroyed, though. I never thought I would need my homeowner's insurance, but that incident certainly made me thankful I had it. After examining the condo we went to the garage, and that's when I lost it. I certainly wasn't keeping quiet then.

“My car! My fucking car!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as tears welled up in my eyes. My pride and joy had been vandalized! They stole my rims, my TV from the dash, my system, and destroyed my interior.

“I'm calling the police!” I yelled while searching though my bags frantically for my cell phone.

“No!” Vegas snatched the phone from my hands. “Look at this house. It's obvious this was a drug burglary. If we contact the cops, all it will do is make our spot hot. Don't worry, baby. I'll handle this shit.”

After Vegas convinced me not to contact the police and assured me he would take care of things, I calmed down somewhat. Then I noticed a very worried look on Vegas' face.

“Baby, what's wrong?” I asked.

“I feel responsible. I should have never brought this shit around you.”

Even though none of Vegas' associates ever came to our home, he still felt like the break-in happened because someone thought he had money or drugs in there. He pointed out how the burglar searched in odd places like the toilet, washer and dryer, under the mattress, and in the closet paneling. These were places people would normally hide drugs or money. Not to mention there were plenty of things in the house worth stealing and those things weren't even touched.

We called the insurance company, locked up, and headed to a hotel at Waterside. Once we were checked in and settled in our room, I questioned Vegas.

“Baby, why didn't you shoot when you saw the burglar?” I was certain my man was thugged out, so I knew it couldn't be because he was scared.

“Well, I recognized that li'l nigga who broke in our crib,” Vegas explained. “He's too young for me to bust up, so I got another plan. Now get dressed. Dress comfortably and wear dark colors. You're coming with me.”

I did as Vegas instructed and followed him out to the truck. We drove to one of his boy's houses and traded off the truck for one of his cars. Vegas mounted a pair of 30-day tags on the car.

“You ready, baby?”

“Yes, I am,” I responded eagerly showing my man I could be his down ass bitch.

“Well, jump in the driver seat,” Vegas said as he handed me the keys. He lay on the floor in the back seat and directed me to the location of the guy's hangout. Once I reached the area, Vegas pointed him out.

I drove up to the group of guys and said, “Excuse me. Do any of you guys know where Berkley is?”

The young kid who had robbed us was the first to respond. This was working out perfectly. “Yeah, it's about five miles away.” He started giving me detailed directions. Pretending to be confused, I used my sex appeal to persuade the young boy to get into the car.

“That's a lot for me to remember. Do you think you can ride with me out there? I'll pay for a cab to get you back, or you can just stay at my crib if you like.”

Hearing exactly what he wanted to hear, he jumped right in with no hesitation. He had no idea what was in store for him. When he got in, I immediately hit the lock. Vegas sat up quietly and put the gun to the back of the guy's head.

“Look straight ahead. If you turn your head in either direction, I will blow your fucking brains out. Got it?”

“I got it, man . . . I got it,” the terrified little boy said.

Vegas knew the boy was working for someone. “Who in the fuck sent you to my house? I know yo' punk ass don't have the balls or the brains to come up with that shit on your own.”

The guy was so scared that he told Vegas everything. “Man I'll tell you everything. Please, just don't kill me. Niggas on the streets is hating, man. They mad 'cause you got all the parks on lock. Bear paid me to break in and steal yo' stash and money and shit. I wasn't trying to do it, man, but I had to do it to clear an old debt I had with him. Come on, Vegas, it's part of the game.”

With those last words, Vegas became infuriated.

“What, bitch?”

Vegas pistol-whipped the young boy in the head. Blood splattered against the car window.

“What the fuck you know about the game? Li'l nigga, you don't know shit. Have you moved any keys? As a matter of fact, have you even seen a key? What about raw? Have you even had any raw? You been on this corner for years, man, pushing nick, dimes, and caps. You ain't shit, nigga. You haven't even entered the game, bitch.”

After a little more terrorizing and a spit in the face, Vegas let the guy go. He put so much fear in that little boy's heart, he would never think of crossing Vegas again.

After the break-in, Vegas didn't waste any time buying a new house. We paid off the balance owed on my condo and quickly moved into our new five-bedroom house in Church Point. We lived near all the stars, from entertainers to athletes. The house was gorgeous. It was on the water and surrounded by a huge wrought iron gate. There was a three-car garage and a huge backyard. In the backyard was a deck with a gazebo, a boat ramp with his and hers Jet Skis, and a large pool.

The inside of the house was like a small palace. Our bedroom was separated into two sections. The first room had a huge bay window with a beautiful view of the water and was equipped with a Jacuzzi in front of a fireplace. The other section of the bedroom consisted of our bed, closet and bathroom. Our TV rose from the foot of the bed at the push of a button, and our walk-in closet was the size of a small bedroom. The closet had a rotating rack and compartments for shoes, hats and bags. The bathroom had a standing shower separate from the tub. The tub had a built-in whirlpool. There were also his and hers toilets and sinks. The living room had a huge, vaulted ceiling with skylights, a marble floor, and a beautiful fireplace.

The entrance of the house opened to a winding staircase on each side that led to a loft overlooking the living room. We even had a theater room with a wall projector and surround sound, a weight room where I could practice my shadow boxing, and laundry chutes in each upstairs bathroom that led directly to the laundry room.

Before we knew it, summer was over and it was my birthday. We were spending so much time working on the house that we hadn't had time for anything else. So, when Vegas suggested that I should take the day off on my birthday, I agreed.

By noon, we were out of the house. We jumped in the truck and he blindfolded me. He drove for about fifteen minutes before stopping. Then, he helped me out of the truck. After helping me take a few steps, he removed the blindfold.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! I can't believe it!” I screamed. “Thank you! I love you so much!”

I jumped up and down for joy like a kid on Christmas day. I couldn't believe it. It was my dream car. When I originally mentioned it to Vegas, he told me it was out of our price range.

How did he do it?
I wondered.

In front of me sat a red Lexus SC 430 with a huge bow around it. I had been in love with that car ever since the first time I saw it. Immediately, I jumped in. The interior was all white leather. There was a single TV in the dash, twenty-inch Sprewell rims, light tint and a fully customized system.

“Follow me to the Lexus dealership,” Vegas said as I adored my new car.

When we arrived there, I ran into my ex-boyfriend. This guy had treated me like shit our entire relationship. He knew I depended on him for so much during our relationship, so he used it to his advantage. There were times he would try to make me feel obligated to do certain things because I needed him so much. With all these things in mind, I was happy that this time I was the one shitting on him. He had a stinking look on his face when Vegas and I drove up. I just smiled at him and walked right past as if I didn't know him. Once I got over to Vegas, I pointed out my ex-boyfriend. Vegas looked at him and laughed.

“You used to fuck with
that
wack ass nigga?” He couldn't believe someone like him had me gone.

Still laughing, Vegas walked off and talked with an older white guy for a few minutes before handing him an envelope. Then, the white guy handed him an extra key and the title.

There is no way Vegas purchased this car in cash,
I thought. But I wasn't about to ask any questions.

I was one of the first people in the area to own that car, so you know I had to shine. I pulled up in front of all the hottest clubs in the area full speed so the Sprewells would keep spinning when I came to a stop. That was the shit! It looked like I was floating on air when I would pull up.

The more I adored my car, the more my conscience would eat at me. I loved my car, but I still wondered how Vegas was able to afford it. So, I did a little research of my own. It turned out the white guy at the dealership made a little business transaction with Vegas, and that's how he was able to get the car for me. At that point, I knew there wasn't anything Vegas wouldn't do for me.

Christmas followed my birthday. I purchased Vegas a two-way pager, an Xbox game system and an earring so big it could have made him part of the Cash Money Millionaires. It was platinum and covered in princess cut diamonds. He bought me a red mink and some matching red alligator boots, which he special ordered from the Mauri catalog. They were knee-high with pointed toes and graphite stiletto heels. But the best gift of all was my puppy!

“Oh, my goodness!” I said as I burst into tears. He bought me the cutest tan cocker spaniel.

“Her name is Prissy. She reminds me a lot of you. I hope you like her.”

“I think that name suits her perfectly,” I said as I picked her up. She wore a diamond collar with the name “Prissy” around it.

Later that night, it was time for the Annual Baller Christmas Gala. This was like the Players' Ball, but with a gangsta twist. This was the time for all the area ballers to show off their girls, jewels, clothes and rides. Vegas wore a deep royal blue mink, matching gator boots and belt, and a mushroom-colored suit underneath. I wore a dress of the same blue that dipped in the back to just above my butt crack. The front was sheer, and my private parts were covered only by a small rhinestone design. It was gorgeous.

We pulled up to the red carpet that lay in front of the hotel and stepped out of the stretch Mercedes. I must say, we were the hottest couple there. The party was off the hook! The music was great, and they gave out all sorts of door prizes. They gave away a DVD player, surround sound system, and a TV. One girl even won fifteen hundred in cash.

Throughout the night, I noticed a number of the local hustlers whispering in Vegas' ear. “Look, man, give me a call so we can do some business,” they would say. Amongst those was a hustler who went by the name of Bear. He wore a gray suit with pink gators and a matching scarf on the outside of his suit coat. Bear had no idea that Vegas knew he paid the young punk to break into our place.

“Vegas! What's up, baby?” he said as he dapped him up. “How you doing, Miss Lady?” He said as he gave me a seductive smile. I didn't speak. I just smiled slightly.

Bear turned his attention back to Vegas. “Shit is rolling on the streets, man. What cha gon' do? I'm trying to get you on my team, nigga.” Vegas arranged to do business with Bear.

“Baby, why are you talking to him like everything is cool?” I asked after Bear walked away. I didn't understand why Vegas would work with someone who had set him up.

“It's all part of the game, baby,” Vegas explained. “It's safer that way. I prefer to keep my enemies close.”

After a night of socializing and showing off, we headed home, pissy drunk. Vegas couldn't keep his hands off me during the ride home. The slightest touch was turning me on. My head was spinning as I lay back with my legs cocked open. Vegas buried his head between my legs, making me moist with every kiss. He pleased me exactly as I imagined he would when I masturbated in the lawyer's office on my first escort assignment. In fact, it was even
better
. His tongue was wet and warm inside me. I grabbed the back of his head as I came in his mouth.

By the time we reached home, we were both drained beyond belief.

 

 

New Year's followed right behind Christmas, of course. Instead of celebrating, Vegas had become quite annoyed over the past few days. It had been months since he had heard from Red. We were straight living off the stash, and he was worried about what the future would bring.

“I think you should get your mind off money for a while, baby. Let's go to DC to celebrate the New Year,” I suggested, sensing his frustration.

He agreed and we headed to the club. We arrived at about eleven o'clock New Year's Eve. The club was packed. The line was wrapped around the corner. In front of the club was an entourage of nice cars lined up for valet parking. The valet parking was provided only for a selected few. I'm not sure what made us so special, but I guess our abundance of cash flow had a lot to do with it.

As we approached the entrance, a huge, dark guy said, “A hundred dollars starting here.”

Vegas paid the man and we headed straight to the VIP room. Once we entered the VIP room, we sat at a table and the waitress ran over.

“Hey, Vegas! What are we having tonight?” The boney little waitress asked as she smacked on her fruit-flavored bubble gum. Vegas ordered a bottle of Cristal to pop after the countdown and a few drinks for us to sip on until then.

With only seconds until the start of a new year, we all began the countdown.

“Five, four, three, two, one . . . Happy New Year!”

Bottles began to pop everywhere. We clanked our glasses together in a toast and followed it with a long, passionate kiss. Confetti dropped as the DJ played
Auld Lang Syne
and everyone sang along.

“I love you, baby. And as long as I walk this green earth, you'll never have to worry about anything.”

“I know, baby. I love you too.” I wondered what Vegas was thinking as he spoke those words.

While everyone celebrated, Red walked up. Was it me, or did it seem that he always popped up at the wrong time?

“I gotta holla at you, man. Take down my new number and hit me up,” he said in Vegas' ear. Vegas took out his phone and entered Red's number, then Red left.

We partied for another hour before heading for the hotel. We were extremely drunk as we waited for our car. We were damn near to the point of having to hold each other up as we waited for the valet to bring our car around.

“What the fuck is this?” We heard a woman yell from behind.

We turned around and there stood Vegas' baby's momma. She was all in his face, yelling and screaming.

“You all the way up here and you can't even call or try to come see your kids?”

Not wanting a confrontation and especially not wanting her to ruin what had been a perfect evening so far, I grabbed for Vegas' arm and said, “Come on, honey, our car is here.”

That must have really upset her, because she turned to me and pulled out a blade. Before I could react, Vegas grabbed her and slammed her against the hood of the car.

“Bitch, you done lost yo' damn mind!” He strangled her and continuously banged her head against the hood of the car. He was choking her so terribly that her eyes began to roll to the back of her head. I could hear her gasping for air. Vegas wasn't himself. His eyes were cold and still. I was afraid he was going to kill her. I began to yell frantically.

“Vegas, baby, please let her go! You're going to kill her, baby! Let her go!” It was as if he had been taken over by some sort of demon. I begged him to stop as the police rushed over. They immediately tackled him to the ground face first. I cried hysterically as they cuffed him and placed him under arrest. I followed them to the police station so I could immediately post bail. I waited hours in the cold jail before they informed me he would not be released.

The next day, I headed home alone. The ride was long and horrible. I was tired and worried. I arrived home around four in the afternoon. As soon as I walked in the doors of our big, lonely house, the phone was ringing. I rushed to answer it.

“Hello . . . hello?”

“You have a collect call from—” the operator began to say. I immediately accepted the call. It was Vegas.

“What's up, baby?”

I was so happy to hear his voice.

“The charges were dropped, but I'm being transported back there for probation violation because I was out of state. I spoke to Bear and we came up with a way to continue business. I'm going to need your help, baby.”

I knew Vegas wouldn't be able to get things done without me, so I agreed. “I got you. Just tell me what to do.”

“Just keep a lookout for the mail,” he said.

In a couple of days, I received a letter from Vegas with instructions. I was to be the backbone of the plan. It was my job to get the product and give it to his brothers. Once a week, I would meet Bear and pick up the raw heroin. I would spend hours in the basement mixing the product to form a missile that would blow the fiends' brains. I had to be sure to add just enough cut so that the dope wouldn't be weak. Once my mixture was right, I would fill the caps one by one. Normally, Vegas would have someone else do the capping for him, but he didn't trust them enough to send me to them alone. Once the package was complete, his brothers would sell them by the bundle and give me the money as they pumped it.

Vegas was expedited to Norfolk jail a few days after I received the letter. He was convicted of the violation and sentenced to sixty days. Just as he instructed, I picked up the product once a week. After a while of this, I began to notice Bear coming at me incorrectly. One day when I went over to his home, he had the lights dimmed, music on and drinks out.

“Why don't you stay and have dinner with me?” he suggested as he grabbed the package.

“No, thanks. I'm in a hurry,” I said, aggravated.

“Okay, but you're missing out. You really look nice today. That outfit really complements your body.”

“Thanks, but I have to go,” I said curtly.

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to tell Vegas, and planned to do so when he called later that night.

“Hi, baby.”

“What's up, ma? You sound stressed.”