End of the Line (5 page)

J-Rite woke up thinking about the awful news Asia had delivered about Buzzy, and the blessing Leesa had dropped at her feet. She only had a small amount of product left, and, of course, the ticket money that was now all hers to keep. Since she was sitting on so much free money, so to speak, she decided to pass on her good fortune. It was incredibly windy and J-Rite feared a tornado warning was about to be announced. Not wanting to run the risk of getting caught in a brewing storm, instead of going to the corner store to send Mike Mike’s good-begging depressed ass a few dollars, she used the Western Union app on her cell. After receiving the confirmation information online, she texted it to him. As she expected, Mike Mike started calling, trying to beg her to come back to Detroit, but as usual, Jessica pushed
Ignore
. She wanted to help him because they struggled together when times were hard; nothing more, nothing less. She always thought he was going to be the love of her life, but after being away from him for some months, she realized she didn’t even know what love was.

Next, she called Raven, hoping to get her hustle hard ducks in order.

“What up doe, Ms. J-Rite? Ms. Moneymaker!”

“Shut up, girl, what’s up your way?”

“Same old shit. I’m struggling taking care of these damn kids and my grandmother.”

“Okay, then, fam. How are the kids and Granny?”

“They all good. The kids bad as hell, and you know Granny; still straight bugging on how I live my damn life. But enough about me. I heard you’re still up the way, shooting the Rapids.”

“Yeah, Raven, that’s why I called you. I got some real hellava shit cooking up this way. I mean, some
major
paper on the floor.” J-Rite was beyond geeked as she spoke. “It’s the kinda lick we always used to talk about back in the dressing room when shit was slow.”

Raven could just about feel her friend’s excitement through the phone. “Damn, girl, are you serious? It’s a hit like that?”

“Yeah, we just gotta put in a li’l bit of work. I need your help. In a few weeks, I need you to come up here for a while. You think Granny will watch the kids?”

“Shidddd, with money on the table, her old crazy ass ain’t got no choice!”

They each laughed about Raven’s determination to hustle or die and caught up on the other hood gossip that J-Rite had missed out on while being in Grand Rapids. Raven even had some firsthand 411 on Buzzy getting busted since the feds had apprehended him down at the club smack-dab in the middle of getting a lap dance from their homegirl, Wild Child. After finally ending their conversation, J-Rite smiled to herself thinking about her immediate future.
Hell, fuck, yeah! Shit ’bout to change around here. Shit really, really about to change.

* * *

By midafternoon, the storm had blown over. Ready to get in the streets and grind out the rest of the, as well as the last, package she’d be getting from Buzzy, J-Rite grabbed her cell and stuck her gun down in the small of her back as she got ready to cook up. Since the building where she lived at was big and the people were always in and out, the conniving drug diva figured that she could cover her tracks, and the police would never be the wiser. She, like most people who were breaking the law, felt they had the game and how to win it all figured out. J-Rite, having been a product of the hood since birth, was no different. She’d learned how to cook dope from Hutch when just a preteen. Having skipped school one day, she crept over to Hutch and Leesa’s early, thinking the house would be empty. When the truant youth walked into the two-story dwelling, Hutch was preoccupied in the kitchen. He heard the door close and came to see who it was with gun in hand. J-Rite was, of course, startled at first.

“Dang, boy! Why you got that mask on your face like some bank robber or something? You think you a doctor?” she smartly quizzed Hutch while walking toward the kitchen. When she entered, she saw Leesa standing and a whole bunch of dope on the table.

“Hey, li’l bit, you don’t need to be in here,” Hutch advised, walking up behind his sister, pulling at her shoulder.

“Wait, hold up, Hutch. Show me how to cook dope too.”

At first, the older, overly protective sibling was reluctant, but he knew she was going to find a way to learn one way or another, so he decided to show her. And like they say . . . the rest was history.

After J-Rite was finished cooking, she broke the drugs down into nickel rocks. Packaging them in small baggies, she then put her “work” in her bootleg Gucci book bag. With a few on her person, she was ready for the evening customers. As if on cue, when she got outside, Rhonda and Sean were sitting on the porch drinking a bottle of cheap wine.

“What’s up, y’all?”

“Shit, baby, just chilling. You want some of this?” Rhonda asked, holding out the bottle as if J-Rite would ever take shit to the head behind either one of them.

“Naw, girl, I’m good. But look, I got a hookup for y’all.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” Sean inquired, not willing to do anything for a hit like Rhonda.

“For every fifty y’all bring me, I’ll give y’all a free one. Plus, a free bump now to get y’all out of the gate.”

“Yeah, I like that shit!” Rhonda replied, knowing she was bold.

A few days had passed before J-Rite was completely sold out. Rhonda had earned her just due spreading the word how good J-Rite’s sack was. The Detroit-born and -raised hustler’s clientele had picked up extremely fast. Counting her funds, she then decided it was time to buy a car and stay out of the cabs where she could get got at any time. With cash in hand, she found a lot that had a no-questions-asked policy. If you had the money, you’d be good to go; in and out.

J-Rite pulled up to the bus station. Elated, she saw Raven standing with her hands on her hips next to two black-and-yellow trimmed suitcases. Five foot seven, caramel skinned with perky breasts and an apple-shaped butt, Raven was dressed like she had left straight from the strip club the night before and jumped right on the Greyhound. Unfortunately, no matter how hard her granny had tried, Raven suffered from absolutely no home training.

“What’s up doe, Jennifer?” J-Rite joked, using her girl’s government name.

“What up, Jessica?” Raven returned the favor as they both laughed and hugged.

“How are those babies doing? Granny ain’t bugging?”

“They good, with their bad asses. And yeah, she was trying to go on me, but I went harder. I mean, shidddd, here I am; up here hanging with your crazy ass about to get paid outta of minds.”

“Hell, yeah, I heard that!” J-Rite knew Raven wasn’t gonna let her down.

“So you like living up here or what, ’cause a bitch like me thinking about relocating some damn place with a better school system and less crime? Hell, I’m the only hustler and criminal my bay-bays need to be seeing act a fool.”

“Yeah, it’s tight, but I can’t front. I miss home, and, of course, the club,” J-Rite confessed, helping put the suitcases in the trunk.

“Fuck the D and that brass pole! You ain’t missing nothing but a bunch of bullshit! So tell me, what’s up with this money? I’m ready to get it pumping!”

“Me, you, and Leesa are gonna hook up in a few.”

“Cool, I ain’t seen her in like forever. How she doing?”

“She’s all right. Let me call her now and see what’s good.”

After talking to Leesa, they headed to the local steak house where they agreed to meet and discuss business.

“What up, girl?” Leesa greeted Raven while hugging her.

“How you been, Leesa?”

“I’ve been good. How the kids doing?”

“They are all right. They’re getting big. They at home with my granny.”

Each female ordered what seemed like everything on the menu. Finishing their meal, they had a few drinks, then got down to the business at hand.

“Well, look, I got the work in the car, so we can be out whenever y’all ready.”

Standing in the parking lot, the trio made a pact to not stop slinging until they each had enough cash to live comfortably for the next few years. Leesa then looked around to see if there were any prying eyes. Cautiously, she opened her trunk, removing a medium-size brown paper bag.

“Hey, real talk. Y’all let me know how this shit is. Oh yeah, I was so busy yapping about this work, I almost forgot to tell you. I got the house, J-Rite. The movers over there now putting all the stuff in. So I’m gonna get at y’all later.”

Parting ways, the girls stopped at the store to grab some blunts and a bottle of dark liquor.

“You already know I got that Detroit fire for us to blaze,” Raven bragged as they were headed to J-Rite’s place.

“That ain’t shit, girl! I got that Kush on deck.”

“That’s what’s up, J-Rite; either/or. As long as I get high tonight that’s all that matters!”

* * *

Putting her groceries in the car, Leesa was lost in thought about how long it was going to take to get her money right. When she closed her trunk she took notice of a guy walking her way. On guard immediately, she wished she had her gun on her hip.

“Excuse me, miss, but I think you forgot your bag.”

Leesa looked the guy top to bottom sizing him up.
Damn, he sexy
. He was six foot four, dark skinned, with grey eyes, a low fade, and a goatee. But his beauty still didn’t stop her from being standoffish. “Naw, that ain’t my bag. I mean, that’s not my bag.” He smiled, still holding the bag in his hands. “What’s so funny?”

“I mean, hey, I’m not a college professor. You don’t have to speak proper English to me.”

“Is that right?” she gave him the serious side eye.

“Yeah, I think you’re gorgeous no matter how you talk.”

Leesa held her laugh in. She didn’t want the tall, dark, handsome stranger to know she found him and his compliments flattering. “Well, thank you, but like I said off rip, that’s not my bag; nice try, though,” she giggled, walking to the door of her car.

“Oh, this ain’t your pair of stockings or pack of razors?”

That was her bag. She must have forgotten, so now she had to eat crow. “Oh dang. My bad. I’m sorry, can I have my bag?”

“How about this . . . You can just give me your phone number. That way, we can call it even.”

It had been years since Leesa lost Hutch. Sadly, she was still holding on to the memories; yet, she knew she needed to move on. Hutch would want her to be happy; however, today would not be that day. “Sorry, I can’t. I’m married,” she proclaimed, holding up her hand to show a ring Hutch had given her one Valentine’s Day.

“Oh, I apologize. Please forgive me,” he said, holding out her bag so she could easily take it.

Leesa took the bag and got in the car. She didn’t want to start dating again. Even though it had been years since the love of her life was killed, her emotions were still running high. Besides, if she did start dating, would she be betraying Hutch? Would J-Rite be mad at her and think she was unloyal to her big brother? As thoughts raced through her mind, Leesa figured that the best thing for her to do was to stay single and chase that money.
Maybe when the time is right, me and J-Rite can talk, and I can see what she thinks.
When Leesa pulled up to the house, the mover’s trucks were gone. She walked in her new house and exhaled.
Now I just gotta maintain by any means necessary.

* * *

J-Rite and Raven were both buzzed, but not enough to slip on taking care of business. Spreading everything they needed to hook up on the table, they were interrupted by the sound of J-Rite’s cell ringing. Rolling her eyes after seeing it was Asia, J-Rite answered, knowing she was about to hear more of the same: Asia practically begging to be down. Hearing out the worrisome womanizer Asia, J-Rite hung up with a headache. “Yo, Raven, peep this shit out. That was the trick Asia that used to run with Buzzy. She wanna hook up and get money with us. She keep calling me about it almost every other day, like a stalker.”

“Well, what you gon’ do?” Raven asked while puffing on a blunt, then passing it to J-Rite.

“Hutch used to always tell me that money and bullshit don’t mix. And I know damn well Asia on some bullshit! She be on some flashy shit I ain’t with. She gonna bring a lot of attention I don’t want or need, making us all hot,” J-Rite said, blowing out weed smoke.

“Well, you know what you gotta do then.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna tell her I’m good for right now, and if she can’t deal with that, fuck her! She ain’t gonna fuck up my money. I might hit her back when we finish doing what we do and give her the bad news.”

They went over to the kitchen and started handling their business. J-Rite was glad that she didn’t have to show Raven how to cook dope. All her babies’ daddies were drug dealers, so that trait was passed down.

“You know, girl, I think I’ma get a house up here for me, the kids, and Granny. Detroit getting more ruthless and rotten as the days go by.”

“Yeah, that’s what’s up. I mean, I ain’t gonna lie, I miss the city and can’t wait to get back home.”

“Yeah, and to Mike Mike?” Raven quizzed, giving her girl the side eye.

J-Rite knew Raven was trying to peep her out and laughed. “Naw, fool, not him. I mean, I ain’t mad at his dumb ass no more for having no real hustle in him; some niggas is straight lame like that, and he one of ’em. Besides, Mike Mike ain’t trying to step up and be no real man I need him to be. He just wanna play that damn game, smoke weed, and pop them pills he takes for depression. I’m tight on all that.”

“Oh yeah,” Raven sarcastically replied with a smirk.

“Yeah, girl, I need a real damn man; not a boy.”

Raven slowly shook the Pyrex and grinned. “Oh, you mean like ole boy Dino you said you met the other day?”

J-Rite didn’t verbally respond. She just played off the question and kept it moving.

After what seemed like forever, they were done cooking. J-Rite called Leesa to tell her what they’d hooked up while Raven, who had the munchies, made a run, pulling up in the parking lot of KFC located only a few blocks away from J-Rite’s apartment. “Damn, this bitch packed in the inside,” she mumbled getting out of the car. Waiting what seemed like an eternity, it was finally her turn. Raven stepped to the counter and placed her order. Heading out the door, a short stocky guy held the door open.

“Hey, you,” the man spoke in a flirtatious manner.

“Oh, hey,” Raven responded.

” My name is Benji, and yours?”

“I’m Raven, nice to meet you.” She licked her lips while holding her bag of chicken in one hand and her soda in the other.

Raven thought Benji was really something to look at. He was light skinned with green eyes, had long hair, and a baby face. He looked no older than twenty-one.

“How old are you?” she blatantly asked, blushing.

“I’m twenty-two. Why? I’m too old for you?”

“Yeah, right. Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll call you.”

“Oh, we gonna play that game?”

“Play what game? I’m gonna call you; seriously,” Raven exclaimed.

Not trying to act brand new, Raven knew exactly what Benji was talking about. Women would get a guy’s number, and then would never call them. It wasn’t only a thing that a woman did to men. Men also did it from time to time. As Benji stood looking at Raven, he was hoping that she wasn’t going to play him like that, because he really wanted to get at her. Not just because of her looks and body, but he felt a certain way as he stood there with her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about her that made him want to get to know her better.

“Look, if you give me yo’ number I will call you. I’m too grown to play games, so let me get that number so I can go handle my business,” she said, leaning on one leg.

“All right, ma, I hear you. Let me see yo’ phone.” She handed him the phone, and he put his number in it, then handed it back. “The ball is in your court.” He walked inside the restaurant, leaving her to enjoy her meal and the rest of her night.