The Day the Streets Stood Still (8 page)

“Damn,” Sean gasped.

“Shit, this ain't nothing, baby boy. Wait until you get a look inside this bitch. Why you think I went all out to dress for the occasion? I will never let God see me slipping,” Adina said, quickly checking her makeup and hair in the rearview mirror.

Sean and Adina were let out of the vehicle and led up a huge set of gold, marble steps. There were so many steps Adina had to stop to catch her breath a few times because of her injury, but with Sean's assistance, she finally made it to the top. The expansive porch that led up to the door was also paved in gold. Sean was starting to see where Fox had gotten his ideas for his new house from.

“Right this way, Ms. Adina and Mr. Sean,” a beautiful, tall, slender, woman dressed in a female tuxedo said, nodding and bending at the waist to welcome them inside.
A female butler? Now that's boss,
Sean said to himself eyeing the woman's long, statuesque legs as they followed her. That wasn't all though. As they entered farther into the mansion, Sean noticed several other drop-dead gorgeous, sexily clad, perfectly made up model type of women who all seemed to serve in different roles—one was dusting wearing a French maid's outfit with a tiny gun strapped to a garter belt on her leg; one was carrying a tray of food wearing a body-hugging dress that accentuated every curve on her body; another had a clipboard and seemed to be taking care of the business of the house her gun holstered on her waist like a cop; and, the one who'd let them in led them through the grand foyer. Sean stumbled a few times because he was so busy looking around. God's mansion had huge, twenty-foot gold ceilings that were decorated with paintings that resembled the Sistine Chapel in Italy. The gold foil paint and detailed art embedded on the ceiling had actually taken Sean's breath away so much that he couldn't keep his mouth closed.

“This shit is unreal,” Sean ogled.

“This is not even the half of this place,” Adina said like she'd been a regular at God's mansion. “You see that?” Adina pointed out a large area to their left between two big Roman-style columns. “Those are all solid gold busts of God at different times in his life,” she told Sean. “He had them all hand made from solid gold. They gotta be worth almost a billion dollars together,” Adina educated him.

Sean blinked a few times because he couldn't believe his eyes. He started toward the museum of God, but his steps her halted.

“God will you see now,” the tall female butler said stepping into Sean's direct path. Sean put his hands up in front of him to let the woman know he had gotten the message she was sending.

Sean rushed back over to Adina's side and they both followed another long-legged beauty to finally meet God.
If this is what heaven is like count me in,
Sean told himself.

Stepping into God's office the familiar aroma of cigars made Sean immediately think of Fox, which immediately dampened his mood.

God's office was bigger than Sean's grandmother's entire house. There were floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves with what appeared to be thousands of books. Even the carpet, with its embedded gold fibers, was more regal than anything Sean had ever walked on. There was a large bay of windows behind God's desk and the view of the mountains was breathtaking from where Sean and Adina stood.

“Your guests, sir,” the female butler announced after they had all stepped into the room. Then she bowed and stepped aside like something out of a movie or television show. There was another girl dressed in an all black leotard and stiletto heels, with her hands folded, standing at the side of the desk where God sat as if she were waiting for her next command. Sean thought it was adorable that she had a gun strapped to her leg as well.

“Ahhh, Adina, my love. I haven't seen you in how long?” God said coolly as he spun his huge chair around to face Adina and Sean. “Still beautiful as ever,” God smiled, blowing out a lung full of cigar smoke. “As beautiful as ever.”

“God, baby . . . it's been way too long,” Adina sang, extending her arms and rushing toward him with a huge smile on her face. Sean shifted on his legs because he was thinking about Fox and how he would feel if he knew Adina had once been God's woman.

Sean watched God and Adina's interaction, immediately wondering if Adina had forgotten about Fox already. Sean eyed God closely, trying to keep a poker face, but also trying to read the man's eyes to see what feeling he got from him.

God was a smooth-faced older man; not so old he would be considered an old man, but older than Fox for sure. God still had a full head of hair, but it was speckled with gray streaks that gave him a distinguished look. Although he was in his home, God wore a burgundy suede smoking jacket with black silk lapels accented by a gold silk ascot at his neck, a huge solitaire diamond pinky ring that had to be at least fourteen carats, and, one of the rare solid gold Presidential Rolexes with the full diamond face.

This nigga think he Hugh Hefner or some shit,
Sean thought to himself as he watched God embrace Adina and slide his hands down over her ass. A pang of jealousy gnawed at Sean's psyche and his jaw instinctively began to rock.

“Who you got here?” God asked unhooking himself from Adina and training his eyes on Sean. God stuck out his hand that was holding the cigar and the gorgeous girl jumped into action. She rushed over, took the cigar from God's fingers and stubbed it out in the ashtray that sat only a few inches from God's hand.

“This here is Sean. He was one of Fox's number ones and he is good people, God. He got a good head on his shoulders,” Adina introduced proudly like she was speaking about her own son. Sean shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably as he felt the heat of God's gaze on him.

“Awful young ain't he?” God asked without blinking or moving his eyes from Sean's face.

“Young, yes, but he ain't dumb like some of them. Fox was looking to make him number one. I think you'll like him. I mean, I know he can do great things if you give him a chance,” Adina replied, smiling at Sean.

“So should I give him a chance only for him to turn around and shaft me like Fox did? I mean . . . that ended up being a waste of my time, Adina . . . you know that,” God said dismissively, easing himself back down into his throne-style chair.

“Naw, baby, I already spoke to him about that. God, I'm telling you, he's ready. I wouldn't put my good name on the line again if I didn't know for sure. He's going to pledge his allegiance to God . . . ain't that right, Sean?” Adina said, shooting Sean a telling glance.

“Let's talk . . . you know, man to man,” Sean replied, sticking his chest out like he was an animal about to fight for territory. He had remembered Fox always telling him to never let what a man has in material things intimidate him into thinking that man is more of a man than he is.

God laughed at Sean's show of bravado like he was being amused by some circus act.

“Have a seat, kid, and let me see if you're a man,” God chuckled. “Adina, give us a minute.” Adina was led out of the room by yet another exotic beauty.

“I'll be right out there if you need me. I got faith in both of you that this will work,” Adina said, winking at God and Sean as she sauntered toward the door. She knew they were both watching her, too.

When she was finally gone, Sean turned back toward God with a stony look on his face. God returned the icy gaze as well. After a few seconds, Sean extended his hand toward God. At first, God looked at Sean's hand like it had something dirty in it, then he softened his facial expression and accepted Sean's hand for a shake.

“So start talking, kid . . . You said you wanted to talk man to man,” God said. With that, the floor was Sean's. It was up to him to convince God to take a chance on signing on as his connect.

 

“Big Mama, keep your eyes closed. Don't peek,” Sean chuckled holding on to his grandmother's chubby arm.

“Don't you let me fall now. I don't like walking where I can't see now,” his grandmother complained as she held his arm in death grip.

“Now would I let anything happen to my favorite lady in the whole world? Just a few more steps and we almost there,” Sean told her lovingly. His grandmother followed his lead, shuffling her feet slowly in an attempt to keep up. Sean's heart melted when he looked at the crown of silver hair covering her head now and her feet that were barely able to move anymore. Sean was becoming more and more aware that his grandmother wouldn't be around forever, so this day meant even more to him.

“All right, Big Mama, when I count to three I'ma take the blindfold off you,” Sean said playfully, finally bringing their steps to a halt.

“Boy, I'm gonna get you if you don't stop playing around soon,” his grandmother came back at him. “I do not like no surprises,” she complained. Sean laughed, stepping behind her and slowly untying the black material blindfold he'd put on her when they'd left her house.

“Okay . . . here we go. Five, four, three, two, look up!” Sean cheered. His grandmother opened her eyes; blinking a few times to adjust them against the bright sunlight. Her eyebrows creased and her lips pursed with confusion.

“What is this, Sean?” she asked, simultaneously placing her hand over her chest as if she was clutching her pearls. “Whose house is this, boy?”

“It's yours, Big Mama. It's from me to you,” Sean said proudly, smiling so wide even his back teeth were exposed. He opened the beautiful, brand new, gleaming white picket fence that surrounded the newly built 2,000–square foot house and ushered his grandmother through. Once she walked onto the freshly manicured lawn with its beautiful rose bushes and sunflower stalks, Sean grabbed his grandmother's hand and dropped the keys to the house into them.

“Oh, Sean! How did you? I can't . . . no . . . oh my goodness, boy!” his grandmother cried, her entire body shaking. Sean grabbed her into a big bear hug and squeezed her as tight as he could.

“You know I told you whenever I made it big, you would be the first person I took care of. Well I always keep my promises,” Sean said getting emotional himself. He meant every word of it, too. Where Sean stood in the game at that moment, his grandmother would never have to worry about another thing in her life.

Sean's introduction to God had put him at the top of the heroin game. At just eighteen years old he had become one of the biggest names in the game. He'd masterminded a human pipeline from Canada to the United States that brought in twelve and a half pounds of heroin each week, which netted a half million dollars on the streets. All of the other street dealers had dubbed Sean, the King, and Sean had become the man to see about heroin because he sold his in its purest form at half the wholesale price of others and he was one of the only weight dealers fronting the drugs on consignment at a slight markup. With that business acumen, Sean had changed the heroin game in his city and all the street bosses were vying for a sit-down with him. He had literally become King Sean: the youngest kingpin in the history of his city and it hadn't even taken a full year.

“Big Mama, you make yourself at home. I have a few errands to run but I'll be back tonight to check on you. Everything you need is inside. You don't need nothing from the old house,” Sean told his grandmother, giving her a big kiss on her cheek.

“Make sure if she needs me or anything, you hit me on my new cell number,” Sean told the lady he'd hired to help his grandmother around the house. He slipped the lady three crisp one hundred dollar bills and walked away.

Sean climbed into his brand new shiny silver Range Rover and took one more look at the house he had bought his grandmother and smiled. “It's what you would've done, Mook. I know it,” Sean murmured. He knew his mother and Fox would've been proud of him. Thinking about them always made Sean think of Sunny, too. Their friendship had fallen off since she had started dating Faheem, but Sean had tried to meet up with her at least twice a month. He looked at the date on his big-faced Rolex and realized it had been almost a month since he'd heard from Sunny or had a lunch date with her.

“That ain't like her,” Sean mumbled under his breath as he headed to his meeting. He pulled out his throwaway cell phone and dialed the number to the cell phone he'd given Sunny the last time they'd had lunch. Sean listened as the phone just rang and rang.

“This is Sunny, if I ain't answer I don't want to or I can't. I'll holla back or not.”

“Corny-ass message,” Sean grumbled as he disconnected the call without leaving Sunny a message. “Probably up that nigga's ass,” Sean spat, letting his imagination run wild. He had heard from the street reporters that Faheem was bad news. Sean was told that Faheem was a low-weight weed pusher, but he had a big-time heroin addiction. Sean had also heard Faheem liked to get chicks hooked and then turn them out. Sean knew it was useless trying to tell Sunny about Faheem because Sean knew his best friend was extremely stubborn.

Sean had been thinking about Sunny a lot lately since he couldn't seem to keep a steady relationship with any of the chicks he was sleeping with. Sean couldn't build a friendship with any female like the one he had with Sunny. The longer he thought about it, his new come up in the streets was nothing without being able to share the highs with her. Sunny had missed a lot of firsts in Sean's life; things he would've wanted to share with his best friend, like buying the Range Rover on his own; buying his newly furnished condo and moving out on his own and now, presenting his grandmother with a fully paid for brand new house. Sean hadn't realized how much he was missing Sunny. He picked up his cell and dialed her number again, but he got the same result—no answer.

“What the fuck is up with you, Sunny? You forgot a nigga . . . best friend?” Sean spoke out loud as if Sunny would somehow be able to hear him.

 

 

Sunny took another swig of the white Hennessy straight from the bottle and the warm liquor and loud reggae music soon took hold of her soul. She swayed her naked body in front of Faheem laughing like a silly schoolgirl. Sunny was flawless—her breasts sat up, perky and ripe on her chest; her stomach was flat as a board and her hips were smooth and round with not one hint of cellulite. Sunny's green cat eyes glinted in the dim light of the bedroom casting a glow over her face that made her look magazine-model perfect.

“Bring ya ass over here, gyal,” Faheem said, rubbing his dick lustfully as he watched her. He had a lot of plans for Sunny. “Come here, gyal,” Faheem whispered.

Sunny could not resist his fine cocoa-skinned face, his cut muscular chest and abs and that sexy Jamaican accent always drove her wild. Sunny reached down and touched her clitoris, putting pressure on it until it began to visibly swell.

“Feed me what I need, gyal,” Faheem demanded as he stroked himself roughly. Sunny took another swig from the Hennessy bottle, giggled, and then stuck her pointer finger into her creamy middle. She crawled over to Faheem and put the same finger into his mouth. Faheem sucked her finger like it was the last thing on the planet to eat. Sunny let out a mouthful of hot breath and her chest began rising and falling with excitement. Faheem had Sunny completely open with his sex game. There was never anything off-limits with them and Sunny felt she had never found her perfect sexual fit until now.

“Beg for it,” Faheem hissed, his accent thick.

“Mmm mmm,” Sunny moaned, refusing his commands. She knew what would happen if she playfully refused. “I don't want it,” she groaned out sexily.

“Oh so you wanna be a rude gyal. You don't wan' to beg for it, huh?” Faheem grumbled getting up onto his knees. Sunny chuckled drunkenly as he threw her down on the bed forcefully.

“You take me for a joke?” Faheem huffed, dick in hand. “Joke me a joke?” he gritted with that Jamaica patois Sunny loved. Then he rammed his dick into Sunny's dripping hotbox from behind with the force of a wrecking ball.

“Ow!” Sunny hollered out clutching handfuls of his Egyptian cotton sheets. Faheem plowed into her from the back with no mercy. The loud clap of their skin slapping together filled the room. Sunny could feel him so far into her that his balls here hitting up against her clit from the back. The slight touches from his hairy beanbags were driving her insane with lust.

“Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” Sunny yelled out. She loved it when he gave it to her rough sometimes. Faheem was so much fun to be around and his bedroom work had her head completely gone. Sunny wanted to be with him every minute of every day. She had left her mother's house without looking back and recently Faheem had cut her visits with Sean all together. Sunny felt like all she needed was Faheem to make her complete.

“Agggh!” Faheem screamed as he reached orgasm. Sunny followed with an intense cum of her own. They both collapsed onto the bed. Sunny rolled onto her side and drew her legs up to her chest. Faheem was so good in bed he often made her curl into a fetal position afterward. He looked over at her beautiful form and smiled to himself. He sat up on his side of the bed and pulled out a small glass mirror. He started chopping his heroin up to get it ready.

“Aye, gyal . . . you wanna try this?” Faheem asked Sunny for the fiftieth time since they had started dating. She didn't even have to look over to know what he was talking about. Sunny had watched Faheem snort heroin on numerous occasions.

“My answer is still the same . . . no, I don't wanna try it,” Sunny slurred, closing her eyes as she listened to Faheem snort like a pig. She wasn't that drunk.

Once Faheem fell back onto the bed, she knew he was gone off the heroin. His eyes were closed and a satisfied smile curled on his lips. Sunny was curious, but she had still resisted the urge to try something as hardcore as heroin.

Sunny eased out of the bed on wobbly legs, grabbed her cell phone and went into the bathroom.

She sat on the toilet and while she relieved her full bladder, she scrolled through her missed calls—all from Sean. Sunny snapped her phone shut and rolled her eyes. She knew calling Sean now would just lead to a bunch of questions about where she's been staying and what she's been doing and why she don't call him and did she go back to school and what is she planning to do with her life . . . blah, blah, blah. She wasn't in the mood for his protective brother/father role right now. Sunny admitted to herself that she missed Sean, but she wasn't going to call him back and tell him that or let Faheem know.

“I'm grown. I don't have to explain nothing to nobody so you might as well stop fucking calling me. I'll call you when I'm ready,” Sunny said out loud like Sean was standing right in front of her.

 

 

“Yo, King Sean, don't let them do me like this man. I . . . I . . . I'm gon' get your paper . . . I swear, man. Just don't let them do me like this,” an overweight, dark-skinned dude name Boogie begged as he tried to use his hands to cover his naked body.

Sean sat calmly, eyeing the groveling mess of a man in front of him. He despised weak men and Boogie looked like a real female at that moment. Sean looked on serenely; he prided himself on being cool under pressure and never getting his hands dirty. Sean's number one henchman, Beans, stepped closer to Boogie with an evil glint shining in his eyes.

“Listen, nigga, King Sean is the only m'fucka on these streets frontin' niggas grams and for half the price of that bullshit y'all was buying that been stepped on a million times and you can't have the king's paper when you supposed to?” Beans growled, so close to Boogie's face the heat of Beans's breath threatened to singe the hairs in Boogies nostrils. “You beggin' now but was you thinking about the king when you was stealing?” Beans spat. Then he drove his bare knuckles into Boogie's fat face, busting his nose, resulting in a stream of blood that seemingly would not stop.

“King Sean took a risk on you, just like he did with the whole city, yet you the only nigga that never pay the king on pay up day and rumor has it you back door dealing, too. So you tell me, as a king, how King Sean supposed to take that? The way we see it, it's like treason 'n' shit,” Beans growled, looking around at his cronies for agreement.

Beans was young and fearless and although Sean was only two years older than Beans, Sean saw himself in Beans a lot of the times.

All of Sean's other crewmembers mumbled their agreement as well. Sean didn't say a word; instead, he inhaled the long toke he'd take from his cigar. He was not fazed by the pure, unadulterated violence taking place a few feet in front of him. Sean was into sending messages by any means necessary.

“You think you deserve another m'fuckin' chance to do the same thing again?” Beans asked through his teeth as he grabbed the fat dude's face roughly so he could look the dude in his eyes. “Kings behead traitors who commit treason, nigga, so I guess you know your fate,” Beans gritted, releasing the slobbering dude with a shove. Beans had something to prove to Sean if he wanted to move even closer to his boss, so this was the perfect opportunity.

“Please, King Sean! Please! I'm sorry,” the fat dude cried looking over at Sean as he cried for mercy. Sean didn't even flinch, blink, or say a word. He seemed bored with the crying and begging show the traitor was putting on.

“We heard you been making side deals with somebody else who is stepping on our territory. We also heard you gave them permission to step on that territory at that . . .” Beans hissed, while Freddie and Ak, two of Sean's other crew members, pulled Boogie's arms so far behind him his shoulders bulged and popped.