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Authors: T. Styles

Tags: #Fiction, #Urban, #African American

A Hustler's Son II (7 page)

BOOK: A Hustler's Son II
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“Don’t get smacked, Shawty,” I frowned. I had to put her in her place.

She cleared her throat and said, “Well how you gonna make money wit’ me then? Cuz in case you ain’t noticed, I’m a dancer. And I do ‘aight by myself.”

“For starters…I’ll pay you. There’s more than one way to make cash. You ain’t always gotta dance on stage. I’ll give you more than you was gettin’ paid in there for one night.”

“For doin’ what? I don’t want or need no pimp.”

“I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout trickin’,” I assured her.

“Well what I gotta do and how much you gonna give me?”

“It depends on how much you willin’ to help me. Can we go somewhere and talk privately?” She looked me over tryin’ to detect any sign of me being crazy. She couldn’t see it even though it was there. I smiled and grabbed her hand. She smiled back. “Come on. Just gimme a few minutes of your time baby girl. If you ain’t feelin’ it, you can say no and be on your way. Deal?”

She shook my hand. We stepped off. Together. We went to a small lounge a few blocks down that served food. I told her what I needed and what I was willin’ to pay. She looked scared at first but later agreed.

“Are you sure this’ll work?” She pushed her food aside. Her appetite was lost. “I heard stories from the other strippers ‘bout how dangerous they are.”

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you,” I said, lookin’ into her eyes. “Trust me.”

She smiled again and I knew I had her. Finally I would be able to get her to do what I needed. What was fucked up was that some of the money I would pay her wit’ would be her own. I paid Jelly, her so-called friend, to clip her money while she was on stage. Jewels ain’t have nothin’ to do wit’ that shit. So what it may’ve been wrong. I needed this chick’s help. Luckily for me it ain’t cost much.

Monday, 8:15 pm

****

Sometimes havin’ family can make you soft, and I’m as hard as they come.

-Jarvis

The night air was cool as they walked up to Jarvis’s sister’s home. At first he was going to drop Kenosha off but she refused saying she’d rather stay by his side. And because he knew that she was aware that nothing positive would happen if she stayed, that made him like her even more. The small green house in Queens looked peaceful under the night sky, but Jarvis was no fool. There was nothing close to peace inside. Still, he entered using his spare key and Kenosha stayed close on his heels.

The door creaked as Jarvis pushed it open. The television was on low yet he could hear Mary J. Blige’s melodic voice coming from its speakers. Directly across from the door sat his family, bound and gagged. And when he looked at his sister’s face, he saw her tears dried on her face while his nephew sat visibly shaken. The door closed softly behind them as he focused on the strangers standing on each side of the couch.

“You must be the
man
!” a tall, half burned dark skin man laughed. “When you didn’t come, I was startin’ to believe all that shit they said ‘bout you.”

“And what’s that?” Jarvis asked flatly.

“You know. That you don’t give a fuck ‘bout nobody but yourself!”

Jarvis ignored the comment and fixed his eyes on his sister again and the young man who was standing behind the couch over his nephew. The duct tape was bound tightly around their mouths.

“Did you bring my money?” the older stranger asked, stopping his stare.

Jarvis nodded yes and tossed the navy blue duffle bag he had in the middle of the floor. Kenosha eyed the bag wondering if money was really inside. She’d been with him from the moment he got the call and was pretty sure it wasn’t. She did witness him stuffing the bag with some contents in the back of his trunk, while he spoke on the phone.

“Everything you asked for and deserve is right there,” Jarvis said, coldly, pointing to the bag.

“Deserve huh?”

Jarvis smirked.

“Pick it up and open it,” the burnt man said to his accomplice. The younger man was much shorter with light skin. Having the same eyes, despite their physical differences, it was apparent they were related.

“Okay,” he said hustling from behind the sofa to grab the bag. When the bag was opened, the young man’s mouth dropped in fear when he saw a bag full of newspaper. He lifted the bag from the floor and showed the older man.

“What is it?” He asked, seeing the boy’s expression then snatching the bag.

“Paper?” he mumbled.

“What?”

“It’s paper, dad.” He said grabbing a fistful and showing him.

With rage in his eyes, the man shot Jarvis an evil stare. Kenosha backed up against the front door attempting to get out of the way.

“Do you realize what you just did?”

Jarvis’s sister wept. She knew her brother could be stingy but would’ve never thought he’d take things so far considering their lives were on the line. Jarvis reached behind his back slowly lifting up his shirt. The man was so disturbed at Jarvis’s lack of respect that he hadn’t noticed his small action. But when he did, Jarvis pulled his weapon and aimed. The burnt man placed his arm around his sister’s throat and hoisted her up off the sofa, cutting off most of her air circulation.

“Put the fuckin’ gun down before I kill her!” Kecia clawed at the man’s forearm but it didn’t lessen his grip.

“Who you workin’ for?” Jarvis asked ignoring his threat.

“You ain’t askin’ no fuckin’ questions!” he pointed his finger at himself. “I am!” the man yelled, as sprinkles of spit touched his sister’s nose. He tightened the grip around her throat, causing her face to turn red. “Who you think you fuckin’ wit’?”

“I asked you a question, mothafucka! Who you workin’ for?” He took one step closer to the stranger. “Is it Koni?” He took another step. “Or is it D-9?”

Jarvis had wronged so many, that he wasn’t sure who was after him. And the only reason he picked Koni was because he fucked his wife then got her strung out on cocaine a few years back.

“You shouldn’t fuck so many people outta they money.” The man said hysterically. Jarvis could tell he was trying to pump himself up to put in work. “Now either you get me my money….or I’ma slump your family.”

Jarvis with his hammer still aimed, smiled. Then he pulled the trigger hitting his sister in the middle of her forehead. When he shot her, he aimed the barrel at the stranger. In disbelief, the stranger allowed her limp body to fall on the floor. He took a few steps back from her body, staring in horror. When he looked at Jarvis, he had a smile on his face.

“You crazy!” the man exclaimed. “You fuckin’ crazy!”

While he was talking, Prangsta and Spikes came rushing upstairs from the basement. He didn’t know that Kecia had a small door which led from outside in the laundry room. It was obvious he was an amateur. Their abrupt entry startled the stranger causing him to mistakenly drop his weapon. The moment Prangsta and Spikes saw Keicia’s body spread out on the floor they violently grabbed the two from behind.

“You want me to murder his ass?” Prangsta asked, as he wrapped his arm around his throat. Spikes grabbed the younger man. “Let me do it, man!” Kenosha was stunned because she was certain Jarvis killed his sister on purpose.

“Not yet,” he eyed his nephew who was visibly distraught.

Jarvis walked up to the burnt man as Prangsta maintained the grip around his neck.

“I’m gonna ask you again,” he said softly. “Who sent you?” The man was silent at first but then his demeanor changed. It was evident that he was petrified.

“I don’t know his name. He gave me the lick and said he’d meet me for his five percent.” That bothered Jarvis. He hated the idea of someone trying to play him.

“What did he look like?”

“He was tall, dark skin and older. Maybe ‘bout forty. That’s all I know! On my mother! I wasn’t gonna hurt your family, man. I’m just tryin’ to feed my seed. That’s it!”

“Hey, Jarvis…Ice said that the dude who stuck him up looked the same way.”

Jarvis?
Kenosha thought.
It can’t be!
Her mind was on speed as she focused on his features. She could see why Janet got with him.

“You had to use my name, huh?” Jarvis asked disgusted with his lack of ethics.
“Sorry, man. I figured we was gonna hot they asses anyway.” Jarvis shook his head.
“Go ‘head, nigga.”

Prangsta proceeded cautiously and said, “He was talkin’ to some dude who said on his mother, he was gonna keep stickin’ you until he takes back everythin’ you took from him. It may be the same dude who keeps robbin’ our shops.”

“I can’t believe one nigga causin’ all these problems!” Jarvis said, frustrated as he took his right hand and placed it on top of his head. It seemed a little inappropriate to disgust business over his sister’s dead body but that was the nature of the man. “But that’s what it sounds like.” Jarvis mind raced.
Who the fuck is this nigga?
Jarvis looked back at Kenosha who appeared calm despite being slightly nervous. Then he looked at Prangsta and said, “Kill ‘em both.”

Prangsta grabbed the man and he and Spikes were both on their way down the stairs when the stranger said to Jarvis, “Can I ask you a question before I die?”

“No fuck that shit!” Prangsta yelled pushing him toward the basement.

“Hold up…I never deny a dead man his final wish,” Jarvis interrupted. Prangsta turned the man around so that he could look Jarvis in his eyes. His son could be heard weeping at his fate was soon to come. “What you wanna know?”

“Did you kill your sister on purpose?”
It was silent as Jarvis took a few moments before answering his question. Prangsta and Spikes gave one another befuddled looks.
After a few minutes of silence Jarvis said, “What you think?”

After his response Prangsta and Spikes took both men downstairs and killed them. Jarvis grabbed his nephew and walked out the door with Kenosha.

 

 

 

Monday, 9:15 pm

****

Who need a job when ya got a rich nigga?

-Kenosha

Drivin’ through the streets of Brooklyn changed what I originally thought. That all projects was the same. There was something about Marcy Projects that pulled my breath. The big red buildings appeared larger than life under the night sky and people seemed to be possessed by its power.

“Gimme a sec, Kay,” Jarvis said without waiting on my response.

He grabbed his nephew’s hand and they exited the May Bach. The child looked about ten years old. Jarvis appeared unnerved that he’d just killed his mother, and that his nephew was still physically and mentally shaken. Once outside the car, he stooped down and gave the little dude orders I couldn’t hear. What could he possibly have wanted from a child at a time like this? When Jarvis walked back to the car, without his nephew, I figured I’d get my answer. But where was his nephew going?

“You aight?” He asked.

I nodded yes as I watched his nephew disappear within the darkness of the buildings. Although he asked me a question, I could tell he cared less about my reply. And then I remembered. He was Jarvis.
Kill him now and put this all behind you.
I thought as I stared at the back of his head while he looked out of the window. My mind went into overdrive until Jarvis turned away from the window and looked me in my eyes.

“You know I fucks wit’ you right?”

“I guess…uh…why you say that?”

“I just do.” Silence. “I can tell from the gate you not a stranger to this shit. Right?” He sat back in the seat and appeared to be reading me. I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m serious. Any other bitch woulda been complainin’ or askin’ to go home. You different. Why you different, Kay?”

“I’m no different than any other girl,” I lied.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked flatly. His demeanor went from cold to hot. “The shit you witnessed tonight shoulda had you vexed. Am I gonna have to kill you? Did somebody send you to get to me?” Why would he suddenly ask me who was I? Could he hear my thoughts? Before I could give him a response he chuckled loudly. “I’m just fuckin’ wit’ you,” he boasted. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, though! You probably thinkin’ “
This nigga crazy as shit
”.

I was. But…I gave no response.

“Trust me,” he continued. “I can spot a snake. And if you were out to get me, you would’ve been dead a long time ago.” His statement sounded like a promise. “And there’s no need in me tellin’ you not to disgust what you saw tonight with anyone. You already know the consequences that could carry.”

“It was none of my business.” I told him. He smiled. I didn’t.

His nephew was on his way back when Prangsta pulled up in a white Ford pick-up truck and got inside the May Bach. Before chatting with Prangsta, his nephew got in and handed him a wad of money. He looked sad.

“That’s all he had. He said D9 got the rest.” His nephew muttered.

Jarvis looked frustrated.

“Good job, lil man,” He rubbed his head. “And don’t worry ‘bout that shit back at your crib. You gon’ be good now. I’ma take care of you. Believe that.”

A tear fell from the child’s eye.

While they talked, Prangsta stared. I could tell he was trying to figure me out and I wanted him
not
to waste his ugly time. The driver suddenly pulled off.

“Everything taken care of,” Prangsta looked at me one last time. He was talking to Jarvis.

“Good. Don’t tell nobody the details of tonight, especially Kyope.”
Prangsta nodded.
“So boss…what’s up wit Lil’ Brian? Why he go into Marcy?”
“To get my money,” he snickered. “They may want my life but they not gonna fuck wit’ a kid.”
I’m not gonna lie, puttin’ the kid into harm’s way rubbed me wrong.

We made a few stops and Jarvis did other shit that amazed me. Apparently he was looking for someone who owed him money. And when he couldn’t find him, he found the person’s mother instead.

BOOK: A Hustler's Son II
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