Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose (19 page)

Inside of the immaculately kept vehicle was Alvin White, a.k.a. Slim. Slim was a pretty boy from Fieldcrest a.k.a. Brick City, one of the toughest projects in Greenville. At 18, he already had a reputation as a ladies’ man. He was young, looked good, stayed fresh and was getting money so women tended to throw the pussy at him.

As he was getting ready to get out, more than a few girls ran up to his car hollering his name. “Slim, Slim, get me in!” yelled one girl on top of the other. Desperate to get inside and see the show, they were damn near pushing one another out the way. “Say Slim, you can get me in right!?” They knew he was M.B.M. affiliated, so getting in wouldn’t be an issue for him. Slim chuckled but he wasn’t about to pass on an opportunity like this.

“How bad y’all wanna get in?” he asked as he got out of the Chevy. The sly smirk on his face said it all.

Without hesitation, two thick gorgeous brown skinned girls who heavily favored one another pushed up on Slim. Simultaneously, they both grabbed his crotch. “Real bad,” they said in unison. Slim looked at the girls. They looked so much alike they had to be sisters. He grinned. This would be a first.

Three minutes later, the windows to the Caprice were slightly fogged. Slim was in the backseat with his back up against the driver’s side door. The back of his head was against the window. His eyes were closed; his pants were around his ankles. The two sisters had their skimpy skirts around their waists. Neither was wearing a bra or panties. They were in the spacious back seat taking turns sucking on Slim’s dick.

It had been a little uncomfortable at first, but they quickly positioned themselves so they could be a little more comfy. The sisters were pulling out every trick they knew trying to get Slim to bust a nut in time for them to still get inside before the countdown to 2007 began. They looked like bobble heads as they took turns going up and down on his bulging erection. The two sisters began to get really into it, alternating between spitting, sucking, jerking and slurping.

“BOOM! BOOM!” Two successive shots from a Glocc .40 ripped through the back of Slim’s skull. The high velocity of the firearm destroyed half of his brain, leaving the other half exposed. He died instantaneously. The impact from the slugs propelled his body forward onto the two sisters. Their naked bodies were now stained with pieces of brain matter and blood. Their hysterical screams filled the cold December night.

$$$

Back in the Civic Center, the closer it got to midnight, the more live the crowd got. Lil Boosie had worked the crowd into a frenzy with his series of street bangers. Now he was on stage performing the song that had propelled him into the national spotlight: ‘Wipe Me Down.’ It was the last song of his set, so he brought out his homeys Webbie and Foxx who were featured on the hit with him. They tore that shit down! They had the whole crowd rapping along to their verses. Those that didn’t know the words to the verses rapped along with the hook:
Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes/ Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes/Wipe me down!

When Lil Boosie finally got off the stage, there was a 5 minute intermission. DJ Mello was on the wheels of steel keeping the party atmosphere going. A lot of people took this time to catch their breaths and get more liquor and weed in their systems as they waited for the headlining act to hit the stage. After the energetic performance they had just witnessed the next rapper had better bring it.

“Greenville, South Carolina… what’s happenin’!?” a familiar voice drawled through the speakers. As soon as people heard the distinctive voice of the self proclaimed King of the South they rushed the stage in anticipation. The stage was still empty except for DJ Mello. “Say. Greenville, South Carolina, what’s happenin’!? I said… Greenville, South Carolina what’s happenin’!?” The crowd roared. “Is y’all ready to bring this New Year in wit’ me!?” the voice asked. The crowd roared again in response. “Well ok then… Let’s go!”

When the beat dropped for the biggest smash of the summer, ‘Big Shit Poppin,’ the crowd lost their minds. T.I. stormed the stage wearing a white wife beater with a simple chain around his neck with two dog tags on it. There were about 10 members of his Grand Hustle label behind him. It was only 5 minutes before 2007 and the energy in the crowd was electric. T.I. fed off of that excitement and started spitting his verse with an intensity that the crowd had to feel.
“Do it to the maximum/ take it, why you askin ‘em?/ Don’t listen to them suckas when they say you too irrational!”

The crowd rapped along with T.I. word for word as he went all out. It was New Year’s Eve and the multiplatinum rapper wanted to make sure he gave the fans a show to remember. People had liked Plies and had felt Lil Boosie but this is the show everybody had been waiting on. “Hold up. Hold up folk. Kill that music” T.I. said, addressing the DJ. “Now when I say big shit poppin’ I want err’body to say lil shit stoppin,’ ya dig!? Ok, let’s go! Big shit poppin’…” He held the mic towards the audience.

“Lil shit stoppin’!” the crowd roared back.

“Big shit poppin’,”

“Lil shit stoppin’!”

“Ok Greenville, we finna count this bitch down and when we get to one I want err’body to yell Happy New Year as loud as they can as we bring in ‘07 wit’ a muthafuckin’ bang! Ten…”

The crowd began counting down along with Tip “nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one! Happy New Year!!!” the crowd roared. As soon as they got to one, dollar bills began to fall from the ceiling and descend onto the crowd. Different members of M.B.M. grabbed bottles of champagne, popped the corks and began spraying the crowd.

In a celebratory mood, and eager to show these rap dudes just how M.B.M. was getting it in Greenville, P.T. and Stacks, pulled two large black trash bags filled with cash out of the cut. Different members of M.B.M. grabbed handfuls of ones and began tossing them into the crowd along with the colorful confetti and the money that was already falling from the ceiling. Fuck raining; M.B.M. was making it snow off in the Civic Center.

CHAPTER 20

“What the fuck are we gonna do Ant!?” Meka yelled at her brother.

“Huh? What you talkin’ ‘bout Meka?” Ant said, leaning up against his dresser nonchalantly.

“What I’m talkin’ ‘bout? What the fuck I’m talkin’ ‘bout!?” she asked incredulously. “Niggas want us
dead
Ant. Me and mama out on bail. They got Mike jammed up for two bodies. On top of all that yo’ face was just all over the news nigga! You’re one of Greenville’s Most Wanted!” Meka said heatedly.

“Meka, shit ain’t that serious. You trippin’ right now,” Ant said indifferently.

“Not that serious!? Trippin’? Ant, what the fuck is wrong with you? Did you not just see that video they got of you running through the mall… with a gun?” she asked her brother. They had just played the footage on the news not too long ago. Meka was .38 hot, but Glo was in the living room so she was trying her best to keep her voice down. “How long you think you gonna be able to stay on these streets befo’ somebody call crime stoppers on yo’ black ass? Muthafuckas so grimy they’d turn they mama in to get that reward money!”

It was New Year’s Day. Ant D and Meka were in Ant’s room at their mama’s house in Bellmeade. The blinds were closed and the shades drawn. The bright January sun still managed to cast a dim glimmer of light inside the room that early afternoon as the siblings and lovers talked. Shit was beyond hectic in the streets right now and Meka was trying to figure out what to do next.

“Ant, we gotta go somewhere and chill for a minute. At least till shit cool down. We got to.”

“Naw…”

“Naw? What do you mean
naw
Ant?”

“Just what I said. I ain’t going nowhere! I
been
had warrants Meka. That shit ain’t new to me. I know how to move out this bitch. And I stay strapped,” he said lifting up his shirt, revealing the semi-automatic pistol in his waistband. “So if they do come for a nigga they better be ready to hold court right there in them streets. ‘Cause shiiit, one thangs for sure and two thangs for certain. I ain’t Mike. I damn sure ain’t finna let them crackers trap
me
off in they system!” For Ant to even let a comment like that come out of his mouth about their best friend told Meka a lot. He was obviously still putting that shit up his nose. She looked at him and shook her head.

Seeing the look on his sister’s face, Ant attempted to put her mind at ease. “Trust me, the way them M.B.M. niggas is popping up dead, they ain’t even stressin’ us right now. You remember Slim from Fieldcrest right?”

“Sand brother? Yeah. What about him?”

“Shit, I heard one of them Mexicans ran up on that nigga at the Civic Center last night and blew his fuckin’ head off. Slim was a cool ass nigga too. He had a lotta love in these streets. So you know shit finna get real stupid behind that. Before him, them wetbacks had ran up on J.R. and Mario. Trust me, we the last thing on them niggas minds right now,” Ant said laughing.

$$$

Gloria had been staying at the Hilton since the shootout that had taken place back in early December. It was almost a month later. She’d become tired of being cooped up at the Hotel. So when Meka told her she was stopping by the house to see Ant, she jumped at the opportunity to accompany her daughter. Glo needed to pick up a few things from the house, but more importantly she wanted to see how Ant was doing. She hadn’t seen her son in weeks.

Now, she was sitting comfortably on the leather couch in the living room with her feet kicked up. Glo was snacking on some pickled pig feet while she watched TV The New Year’s Day parades were the only things on the local major networks. She grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels before landing on the Gorgeous Harrison Show.

Gorgeous Harrison was a light skinned black woman originally from Greenville. Her name fit her well. She was a gorgeous full figured woman, and classy. More than just a pretty face, she was also extremely intelligent and ambitious. With the help of her husband, she had recently launched her own show on MYTV 40. She often had religious leaders, local politicians and occasionally a celebrity on to discuss issues affecting the black community.

The topic of discussion today was the recent crime wave plaguing Greenville. There had been a recent string of murders that had left several young black and Mexican men dead. Authorities were calling it a gang war, but one of the guests on the panel had a different view.
“For the Mayor’s office and the Sherriff’s Department to release a statement to the media that these murders are the result of gang violence is extremely premature, irresponsible and prejudiced,”
said Ralph Flemming, head of the local chapter of the N.A.A.C.P.

“
Now, I am far from naïve. Do gangs exist in Greenville? Absolutely. As they do all over the country. The problem I have is this: By calling this a gang war, they’re in essence, implying that all blacks and Mexicans are gang members. They’re acting as if this type of behavior should be expected and accepted in our communities! Read between the lines people! The fact that these young men were somebody’s son, brother and loved one is completely forgotten once terms like gang war or drug related are loosely thrown around. And what are the socio-economic conditions…”

As usual, Flemming made some good points but Glo was skeptical about his motives. Flemming was from Nicholtown, a predominately black neighborhood in Greenville. But like so many so called black leaders he was never around unless a camera was. People in the hood were suffering and a lot of folks felt like he was exploiting their pain to advance his own political career.

Gloria got up and walked into the kitchen in her socked feet. The windows had been replaced, but there were still bullet holes in the walls. They were a harsh reminder of the violence that had erupted last month. She opened the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of Grape Kool-Aid. Those pickled pig feet had made her thirsty. She grimaced as she tasted the Kool-Aid. As usual, Ant had used half a bag of sugar to sweeten it. “How many times I gotta tell that boy about using all this sugar?” Diabetes ran in their family and Glo wasn’t trying to get it. She diluted the extra sugary sweet beverage with some cold water from the faucet.

As she quenched her thirst she wondered what her children were up to. She hadn’t heard from them in over an hour. They were usually blasting their music, arguing or cracking jokes on one another. It was unusual for them to be home and for the house to be this quiet.

Glo padded down the carpeted hallway to Ant’s closed door. She still had the rest of the Kool-Aid in her hand. She put her hand on the doorknob and listened for a second. She heard muffled noises. Glo turned the knob and opened the door.

“What y’all do —” Gloria’s words died in her throat. Her eyes got as big as quarters as she stood in her son’s doorway. She didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. Her son had his shirt off and his pants around his ankles. Her daughter had her sweater dress up around her waist and was bent over the dresser being aggressively penetrated from the back… by her son.

Their eyes were closed. They were so caught up in their incestuous act of lust that they hadn’t even noticed their mother standing right there in the doorway watching them. Her heart dropped. So did the glass of Kool-Aid as she put her hand to her chest and staggered back into the hallway. Meka heard the thud and quickly opened her eyes. For a split second, mother and daughter’s eyes locked. Meka saw the hurt. “Mama!” she yelled out, still bent over the dresser with her legs spread wide. Ant stopped mid stroke and opened his eyes as well only to witness the look of shock and pain on his mother’s face.