A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles (27 page)

BOOK: A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles
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“Hey, T,” everyone said in unison.

I walked toward the small conference room, and everyone followed and took a seat. Stacks had had this room specifically built so he could conduct business. Even though he was a dope boy, he ran his operation like a Fortune 500 company. There was no half-stepping allowed. I took my seat at the front of the room where Stacks would normally be seated.

“As you all know, my man, your leader, has caught a case. He’s going to be down for a minute. That ain’t stopping shit ’cause business will run as usual. Actually a little stricter because, well, you know how niggas try to get over,” I said.

“Question?” said Zoot, who’d been listening attentively.

“Yes, Zoot,” I said.

“We already heard you’d be handling business in Stacks’s absence. I mean, I mean no disrespect, but you his bitch. You ain’t sold no dope in years. Niggas ain’t gonna respect no bitch,” he said. Everyone nodded in agreement except Jetta. I knew I had to do something drastic to make these Negros not only respect me but become believers. I reached back as far as I could and pimp-slapped him. It shocked the shit out of him. He wanted to hit me back but he looked at Jetta, who had a look on his face like,
Try it if you wanna
. He looked back at me, saw that I had my hand firmly placed on my Glock, and changed his mind.

“Now if you see a bitch, bitch nigga, handle your business,” I said. “I’m the same bitch who fronted your ass your first eight ball when you and your little crew was still beating the block. I’m the same bitch who put you up on my man Stacks, and I’m the same bitch who’ll take your ass out if you don’t cooperate! Stacks put me
in charge. I know the game, and I have his best interests at heart. I won’t cheat you ’cause cheating you would be cheating myself. Now y’all niggas are either in or out,” I said and didn’t blink.

Carlos was the first to speak, which surprised me because he was the one I thought I’d have the most trouble with. “T, we all understand and we’re down with the movement. Please excuse Zoot. He’s been a little uptight since he heard about Stacks. We all think you’re more than capable of handling things.” He sounded convincing. I looked at Jetta and he gave me a nod, letting me know it was cool to pipe down for a second.

“All right, listen up,” I said. “Frog and Rick, I need you to go out and collect on all your tickets in the Bluff. I don’t want you extending any credit for a while. Carlos, I need you to continue to hold things down on Boulevard in Fourth Ward, but you need to be on time with your shit. You’re generally late but I want you caught up to speed. Delano, Sweet Meat, and Jake, continue with your BI on the east, west, and Fulton Industrial side. Everything should be lovely if you follow my rules. This shit ain’t about me. It’s about us. We’re family, ain’t nothing changing. We all got to eat, so let’s get this money so we can break bread. Any questions, concerns, or feedback?” I asked. No one said a word. “Well, in that case, this meeting is adjourned.” As everyone left the room, they gave me hugs and goodbyes. Zoot stayed back. I could tell he wanted to speak in private, so I waited until everyone was out of earshot before I spoke. “What is it? Is there something you needed to say?” I wasn’t concerned about him thinking I was soft. I knew I’d bruised his ego.

“Look, I apologize. I didn’t mean to get out of pocket earlier. It’s just that I’ve been real loyal to Stacks. I’ve always looked up to him, and you, for that matter. I respect everything y’all are doing. I ain’t trying to cause no waves, but you gave everyone a job but me. Why is that?” he asked.

“ ’Cause you’re gonna roll like I roll. You’re rolling with me. I
need eyes and ears, so you’re going to be my direct connect,” I said.

“So that’s what’s up,” he said. “I got you, Momma. I’ll hold it down with you. I always knew being with Stacks would pay off.” He was so excited. He said his goodbyes and rushed off to meet his partners. It’s too bad he didn’t have a clue. You have to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Zoot had already proved he wasn’t family by questioning my fitness to lead the crew but I wasn’t going to let him know any different. As long as he thought he had the upper hand, he’d continue to do what he does best. Fuck up. He was known to screw up from time to time. Stacks had let that shit slide. He blamed it on youth, but I wasn’t feeling that shit at all. I already knew I had to watch everyone closely. Now that the order of business was out of the way, I could plan for the remainder of the evening.

Detective Morgan was meeting me at a place in Midtown. The condo actually belongs to my girl, Moet, who dances at Magic City, a strip joint. She uses it as a spot to entertain tricks. Since Morgan was the ultimate trick, he’d feel right at home.

Two Can Play the Fool
 

M
oet had purchased the condo in Atlantic Station, a prominent area in the heart of Midtown, which was a sight for sore eyes. The name of the complex was Twelve, and it was a modern-style building with high-end décor and loft-style living. Moet had truly outdone herself. When niggas stepped into this place, they knew they had to empty their pockets. I had chosen this spot because I knew better than to have Morgan in my own place. If Stacks caught wind of my activities, he’d kill me. Plus I didn’t want anyone on
the streets to get the wrong idea seeing me talking to the po-po. At this point, there was no turning back. I knew it was risky business, but I couldn’t let Stacks go to prison without a fight.

When I arrived at the condo, I quickly set the atmosphere for the evening. I lit candles throughout and put on light jazz. Kenny G was my shit. On the way over, I stopped at Publix and bought some precooked food from the deli. I quickly took it out of its containers and put it in pots and pans. I wanted him to think I’d spent some time in the kitchen. Then I set the table. I made sure to have my hidden camera set up. And the batteries were charged in my tape recorder.

Morgan rang the doorbell at exactly 10:30. I took a deep breath and prepared to play the role of my life. “Lights, camera, action,” I said to myself.

Opening the door, I put on my biggest Colgate smile. Even though he was the police, he had a street swagger. He had his role all together. Had I not been with Stacks and had he not been a pig, I might have been enthused. But that wasn’t the case. “Nice place, real nice,” he said. He looked around the place like the true Dick Tracy he was.

“Thanks, I aim to please. After Stacks and I split, I needed something a little more me, I guess. It’s not as big as our mini-mansion but it’s mine,” I said, trying to sound meek.

“It’s certainly impressive, and so is the scent coming from those pots in there. Girl, tell me you didn’t come straight from the precinct and start throwing down?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. I realized that after a hard day’s work, you might have an appetite. I decided to cook you a li’l something something,” I teased, noticing that he was definitely impressed.

“Well, damn, Taylor, you’re a woman of many talents, aren’t you? Not only are you beautiful but you can cook too. Now that’s what I’m talking about. I’m glad you’re a real woman. I’m so tired of these new-millennium wannabe Beyoncé bitches who want to
be independent yet still dig in a man’s pocket asking them to pay their damn bills,” he whined.

“Honey, I’ve been cooking since I was six. I had no choice. My momma didn’t have no money for restaurants or shit like that. We were poor but somehow we made it. Sometimes all we could make was a wish sandwich,” I said.

“A wish sandwich? I never heard that one. How do you make it?” he asked.

“You take two pieces of bread, mash them together, and wish you had some meat.”

He got quiet for a moment and looked sad. “Damn, girl, you were poor, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, we were, but look at me now. I made it out in one piece,” I said, changing the subject. “Come on, let’s have dinner. Go ahead and have a seat. I’ve already set the table.”

When he saw the setup, he was impressed again. I could tell by his gestures that he hadn’t expected all this. He probably thought he was going to come over, hit this ass, and bounce. Well, it ain’t gonna happen, Cap’n. But I was going to let him think whatever he wanted to. It didn’t take him long to gobble down the fried chicken, canned glory greens, candied yams, and macaroni and cheese. “This shit is delicious. It’s so good, it makes you wanna slap your momma!” he raved.

I giggled silently to myself. He was a simple-ass mark. There was no way in hell I could’ve gotten away with disguising a Publix meal as homemade with Stacks. He could tell the difference between frozen, canned, and fresh vegetables on the spot. I had tried that once and he’d damn near lost his mind.

“Let’s go in the living room, where we can make ourselves more comfortable,” I suggested. He was so eager he damn near hopped and skipped there. I followed him to make him feel like he was in control. He sat on the sofa and patted the empty space next to him, prompting me to take my place beside him.

“So tell me how you got involved with a loser like Stacks,” he said.

“Well, I didn’t know he was a loser when I met him. He was suave, cool, and seemed to have his shit together,” I said.

“Oh, I’m quite sure he did have it somewhat together. Hell, I’ve been trying to catch him for years, but no matter what, he always got away. However, I busted one of his crew members a few months back. I thought I was going to have to rough him up in the interrogation room. Boy, was I wrong. As soon as we got his scary ass in the room, he damn near pissed on himself.” He laughed out loud. The alcohol seemed to have loosened his tongue. I pretended to be amused and laughed along with him.

“I never thought Stacks would have a leak in his inner circle.” I coaxed him so he’d keep talking.

“Oh, he sure does. His name is Zoot. What kind of name is that? These guys kill me trying to be hard. Get ’em in a six-by-nine cell with a bunch of hardheads and they turn soft as butter. Most of these dudes don’t stand a chance alone. Zoot was a weak motherfucka. He gave me some info on Stacks that seemed to check out. So I cut the nigga loose ’cause I knew I could use his ass later on down the line if need be.” He was in the zone now. He couldn’t shut up. He’d confirmed for me what I’d already suspected. Zoot was the talkbox of our clique. He had to be dealt with accordingly, but everything would happen in its proper time.

“Well, Detective Morgan, I hope you got his ass. Stacks has been getting away with shit for as long as I can remember. He got a slap on the wrist for that aggravated assault charge. It’s time for him to be put away. He tried to dog me and take my kindness for weakness,” I spoke clearly and distinctly. I wanted the recorder to pick everything up.

“Taylor, call me Derrick. I’d like to think we could get beyond the bullshit. After all, we’re getting to know each other better.”

“Sure, I can feel you on that. Anyway, how do you plan on getting
Stacks? I mean, if you have nothing solid, how will you put him away?” Here he was, Mr. Big-Time detective, and he couldn’t even see that he was being played. He thought he was playing on my broken heart, but all along I was playing on his ego.

“Babe, I’m tired of low-life thugs getting away with breaking the law. I’m fed up with the little sentences the judges keep giving these repeat offenders. Every day I go out and fight crime only to see these scumbags make more money than I’ve got saved up for my pension. Well, I got your boy Stacks. His gig is up. Fuck the rules. Hell, ain’t nobody playin’ by ’em anyway. I planted the guns on his ass. He already had one in the car, but his boy Jetta was willing to take that rap. He outright claimed it but I wasn’t going out like that. I planted my trusty throwaway on him too. Imagine his surprise. Do you know that his partner was willing to take that rap too? Unbelievable, the power he has over these dudes.” Morgan was really irritated, but I was ecstatic. I could hardly contain myself. I’d gotten him to admit to setting up my man.

“So, Detective Morgan, you set Stacks up? Damn, I bet he’s in there shitting himself. You know he’s on parole. That’s a five-year minimum for a convicted felon.”

“Well, if you ask me, five years ain’t long enough. Enough about him. Let’s talk about you,” he remarked as he moved closer. He started rubbing one of my breasts and kissing my neck. I could smell his hot drunken breath. The thought of a pig this close to me was more than I could stand.

“Baby, don’t you have a girlfriend?” I asked between gasps. Morgan was horny as hell, and he’d let his guard all the way down. There was no shame in his game. He was all over me like white on rice.

“No, what I have is a nagging-ass wife. She’s a royal pain. If it wasn’t for my kids, I’d have left. Enough about her. Let’s concentrate on me and you.” He thought he was kicking game.
Typical
nigga
, I thought. Right on cue, I realized he’d given me a way out of this mess. I had to bring my A-game skills to the table.

“Derrick, I thought you had a girlfriend. I didn’t realize you had a wife. I don’t do married men. Especially men with children. I’m not a home wrecker. I could never live with myself if I broke up your home, even if your marriage is on shaky ground. I refuse to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. There’s no good karma in something like that.”

“Damn, man, you mean to tell me you got my dick harder than a motherfucka and all of a sudden you get a case of morals? You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Look, Derrick, I’m sorry. I really mean that. I’m not one of those females who tries to work a man up and leaves him hanging. Seriously, Stacks had my mind all fucked up. It took me a while to get back to a place in my life where I felt normal. If shit is really bad like you say at home, maybe you guys should get some counseling. I know it helped me.” I sounded like some wounded, pathetic, weak ho.

“Hey, it’s cool. I need to get out of here before I change my mind and jump your bones. For the record, do yourself a favor and don’t go near Stacks. Leave those street-life thugs alone. You seem to be a decent young woman with a good head on your shoulders. Be more selective when choosing the next time,” he said before getting up. He picked up his keys and walked toward the door.

BOOK: A Woman’s Work: Street Chronicles
13.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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