Dollar Bill (4 page)

“Please, it's me: Tommy. I know all your business. Shawanda, Tish, Monique: all hoes. Don't none of them fuck for free and you with one or the other every other day of the week.”

“I don't be fucking them tramps. I might let them sucky sucky, but that's it.”

Tommy twisted her lips up and said, “Umm hmm, yeah, right,” as she continued counting her money.

“For real!” Dollar defended himself.

“So you ain't spending no money on them?” Tommy asked with an underlying self-concern.

“I mean, shit, I done bought 'em some DQ or something, but I ain't never took one of them bitches out nowhere big or nothing like that.”

Tommy began to laugh and replied, “I'm just fucking with you, Dollar. Calm down.”

“So Ral trickin' tuff, huh?”

“Ral is trickin' his new money with every ho who gets a whiff of it. Whatever portion of Ral's money that don't get stuck down some ho's G-string, he puts in his arm.”

“Word?” Dollar asked, puzzled.

“Nigga, please. Where you been?”

“Why you ain't said nothing before now?” Dollar said, becoming serious.

“Shit, I thought you knew Ral was on that stuff. Everybody know. If you pull your nose out from under them hoodrats' asses.”

Dollar stood up and began pacing across the living room floor.

“You're kidding right?” Tommy laughed. “You really didn't know about Ral?”

“I ain't had time to babysit muthafuckas. I been making sure my family is taken care of and planning our next hit and shit.”

“Relax,” Tommy said. “Ral is a grown-ass man. What he does is his business.”

“No,” Dollar snapped. “What that fool does is our business. We the same muthafucka. If he fucks up, then we fucked up. I can see his ass now wrapped up in some bomb-ass pussy running his fuckin' mouth. Damn, T, you should have hollered at me on this.”

“You know Ral likes street candy. Quit acting brand new. You also know that the last thing Ral is ever gonna do is tell some trick his business, especially after what happened last time.”

Dollar and Tommy sat in silence, giving each other a knowing look.

“But that fool got a pretty nice hunk of change. That ain't safe for him if he fiendin' like that.”

Tommy looked at Dollar and sighed. She balled her money up and placed it back in the bag. She knew what had to be done. She went into her bedroom with the bag in hand and came back out with car keys in hand. “You ready to go save that fool from himself?” Tommy asked as she shoved her braids up into a baseball cap.

“He ain't no good to the clique strung out,” Dollar replied.

“A'ight,” Tommy said. “Then let's go find this fool so I can get back to counting my shit.”

Dollar and Tommy exited her house, jumped in her car, and scoured the streets until they learned that Ral was over at a house party on Twenty-sixth and Connecticut. Some cat named Chico was throwing a party at his mom's crib, which he did every time she worked graveyard shift. That's how he made his lunch money: a lunch that consisted of clothes, weed, and hoes.

“Three dollars, niggaz,” the li'l Martin Lawrence lookin' dude at the door said to Dollar and Tommy as they approached the house.

“I'm just looking for somebody,” Dollar said. “I don't plan on staying.”

“What the fuck we look like?” the little dude at the door said. “This ain't missing persons. I said three dollars.”

Tommy sucked her lips, pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the dude. He took the ten and waved his hand as to give Tommy and Dollar permission to enter.

“Keep the change,” Tommy said sarcastically, realizing that's what he'd intended on doing anyway.

“Thanks, my man,” the dude replied to Tommy.

She was used to being mistaken for a guy so she just proceeded through the door.

The male R&B group Jodeci's “Come and Talk to Me” remix was blasting through the speakers and niggaz was blazin' herb in every corner of the room. Tommy and Dollar shifted through the crowd of mostly high-schoolers. It didn't take long for the two to find Ral. He was in the half bath in the basement sticking a needle in one arm while some chick was sucking his dick.

“This shit right here is the muthafuckin' life,” Ral said as he put the needle down on the sink and allowed his head to fall back. After only a few seconds he could barely keep his eyelids open. His mouth hung open as he began to moan at the almost immediate sensation of the high and the nut that erupted down the chick's throat.

“Now give me some, baby,” the girl begged. “Now give me some blow, baby.”

The girl wiped her mouth of any of Ral's cum that had managed to escape and removed the rubber band like object from around Ral's arm. She then placed it on her own arm. She picked up the needle from the sink that Ral had placed there and prepared the meal for her veins.

“Kick mud, ho,” Tommy said, as she and Dollar entered the cracked door.

The girl was in a trance as she flushed her veins with poison. Just then Tommy and Dollar realized that Ral was sitting on the toilet with his limp dick hanging out of his pants.

“You want some too?” the girl said to Tommy, extending the needle to her.

“Hell naw! I don't fuck wit' no drugs,” Tommy replied.

“No, baby, I mean do you want some of this here?” The girl pulled up her cheetah-print mini tube dress, lifted her leg, and allowed her nicely trimmed triangle to show. “You can get up in this hole for some blow. I do whatever you want me to: 'round the world, golden shower; you can even shit on me as long as you ain't got the runs. I'll fuck your friend too. It's good. You won't be sorry. Ask Ral here.”

The girl winked at Tommy as she let the needle drop on the floor. She placed herself in a straddling position on top of Ral and began to laugh as if she was watching Richard Pryor's
Live on Sunset Strip.

Beyond the point of disgust, Tommy grabbed the girl by her hair and yanked her from off of Ral. The girl began to scream and attempt to escape Tommy's clutch.

“Look here, Little Red Riding Every Dick in the Hood. If I ever see you around my boy again, you gon' be wearing your nipples as earrings. Pass it on to your other trick-ass friends.” Tommy turned the girl loose and flexed on her, daring her to try something stupid.

It wasn't that serious as far as the chick was concerned. She straightened up her dress and went on her way. She brushed by Dollar, but not without him getting a free feel of her fat ass.

“What the fuck you doing?” Dollar asked, turning his attention to Ral.

“Nothing, now that you two cock-blockers are here,” Ral replied.

“I'm serious, man,” Dollar said. “Is this what you doing with your loot? Is this what you call your muthafuckin' come up?”

“I was trying to get up and cum, but you two fools—” Ral attempted to joke before Dollar grabbed him by his throat.

“You think I'm playing? You think this shit is a game?” Dollar shouted as Ral began to turn blue.

“Yo, D, let him go, man,” Tommy said as Ral began his attempt to peel Dollar's fingers from around his neck.

“All those years of dreaming on the playground. We finally get just a little bit of loot and this is what you do with it,” Dollar said becoming emotional. “Man, don't you want shit out of life? Or do you wanna end up like your mother?”

Suddenly Ral found the strength to escape Dollar's clutch. He tried his damnedest to take Dollar on but his little ass was no match. They tussled until Tommy managed to pull them apart.

“Don't ever talk at me about my mama!” Ral shouted.

“Will you two fuckin' stop,” Tommy said. “You supposed to be boys. This is bullshit!” Tommy's eyes welled up with tears. Her frozen spirit wouldn't allow her to cry in front of anyone. She angrily pushed Dollar and Ral and stormed out of the bathroom.

Ral and Dollar remained in the bathroom breathing heavily from the energy they had used up tussling with one another. Finally Dollar spoke. “I'm sorry I talked about your moms, man,” Dollar said, holding out his hand in apology.

“It's cool,” Ral said, shaking his hand.

Dollar pulled Ral toward him and hugged him. He then pulled away. “Let me know now if this is the life you want,” Dollar said. “Tommy and I are putting our lives on the line to get out of the muthafuckin' projects. We don't want to have to leave you behind, man. But if this is where you want to be, just say the word. If we know to expect this shit, then it won't be as disappointing.”

“I want shit, man,” Ral said, getting choked up. “I want out too. I want out too.”

“Then the drugs, the hoes, man, you got to give it up,” Dollar said.

“It ain't that easy, Dollar, man,” Ral said, putting his head down.

“Shit ain't never been easy, but we've managed to overcome it, right?”

Ral nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Come on, let's go find T,” Dollar said.

Dollar and Ral found Tommy waiting outside for them in her car. Dollar got in the front seat and Ral got in the back seat. None of them spoke a single word. Dollar put his hand on Tommy's knee. She tried to ignore him, but no woman, not even Tommy, could ignore Dollar's touch.

Tommy sighed and looked up into Dollar's radiant brown eyes. Still, no words were spoken. None had to be. Their eyes said it all.

Just as easy as the money came, it was going. The three couldn't resist spoiling themselves with some name-brand fancies such as shoes, clothing, and jewels. FUBU, Gucci, Lugz, and Figaro became necessities.

Before Dollar could start working on setting up their next job, the police were beginning to link the trio to the killings in Columbus. Eyewitnesses reported seeing the rental car leaving the scene of the crime. The plates were traced back to Budget Car Rental, where the vehicle had been borrowed.

A couple of detectives made their way to Indiana to question Bubbles, the girl who rented the car from Budget for Dollar. They shook her up so bad, threatening to charge her as an accessory and put her daughter in a foster home, that she gave them everything on Dollar except his blood type.

When the detectives arrived at Dollar's mother's apartment, she told them that her son was at work. She told them that they would be wasting their time with any questions they might have had for him because her son was a good child and didn't even as much as hang out with the wrong crowd.

The detectives waited outside the apartment in an unmarked car until they spotted Dollar walking up the porch. Dollar never saw the detectives approaching him.

“Dareese,” one of the detectives said to Dollar. “Are you Dareese Blake?”

“Yes, uhh, no, uhh,” Dollar stuttered. His smooth, suave stance must have only worked when dealing with females.

“Are you Mr. Dareese Ramelle Blake?” the second detective asked. “Aka Dollar Bill!”

“I'm Dollar,” Dollar replied.

“We need you to come with us. We'd like to ask you a few questions regarding a robbery and triple homicide.”

The detectives might as well have punched Dollar in the gut. A sharp pain darted through the pit of his belly. Dollar's head began to spin. He was dizzy to the point of fainting. There had to be some mistake. No way was this shit about Cartel and his boys. What did anybody care about some low-life criminals? No, this had to be about something else, some local shit. Yeah, it had to be. He hadn't been involved in anything local. He'd made it a point not to be, so he had nothing to worry about. He just needed to stay cool and calm.

“Will you come with us, please?” the detective asked Dollar.

As Dollar's eyeballs floated about the sockets, for a split second he thought about running. Did he have the strength? Where would he run to? Where would he hide?

“Dareese, Dareese,” Dollar's mother began to shout from their living room window.

Dollar turned and looked at his mother in the eyes. It was as if her worst nightmare was manifesting right in front of her eyes. Dollar refused to make it worse by attempting to run and forcing his mother to see him get shot in the back and die right before her eyes. That would be the final straw for her. That would be the death of her for sure.

By this time, one of the detectives had sensed Dollar's temptation, pulled his gun out and placed it hard against Dollar's back.

“Go for it,” the detective threatened Dollar. “I dare you to try to run. Every time your mother comes outside, do you really want her to see her son's blood stains in the cement until the rain washes it away? Go for it!”

Dollar took in a deep breath and then exhaled. “It's okay, Mama,” Dollar said. “It's nothing, Ma. I'll be back in time for dinner.”

“Dareese, baby, what's going on? Klein, Klein,” Dollar's mother began to call to Klein who had been in the bedroom studying.

“What's wrong, Mama?” Dollar could hear Klein asking. Shortly thereafter, Klein's head peeked through the window. “Dollar, Dollar,” Klein shouted.

“It's okay, man,” Dollar replied. “You take care of Ma. I'll be home soon.”

“Dollar, Dollar!” Klein continued to shout. “What's going on, man? Where they taking you? Please, Dollar. Please don't leave us. Don't you leave us too.”

Dollar could hear Klein's voice cracking. It was breaking his heart. He wanted to break down right then and there, but he had to pull himself together.

“Who does the King of Diamonds represent?” Dollar said to Klein.