The Legend of Johnny Hustle: Crown Me King (22 page)

“Okay, honey.  Boy am I glad that I stopped in to see you.”  She wiped the sweat from her brow, exhaled and said, “I feel much better now.”  I walked to the door and made sure she could get used to handling large sums of cash.

“Sugar, what are we suppose to do with all of this?”  Red asked, putting the stacks into the bag.”

“Put a hundred thousand to the side and hand me the rest in another bag.  I can’t believe I make the kind of money I do.”

Red walked over, kissed me on the head, and said, “Sugar, now you know why I’m a better thief than actor.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Things were really moving; I had to make sure that I was on my job in every aspect from that point forward.

$$$

I threw on the all leather outfit that Renee bought for me and headed out the door.

“Proverb, what’s the word?”  I stated while entering the store with the duffel bag full of cash on my back.

“The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is servant to the lender.  What up, home slice?  You up early.”  He was staring into his loupe to check the authenticity of the heavy diamond covered watch in his hands.

“What’s that?”  I asked, leaning my face over to stop the diamonds from blinding me.

“Cartier.  You like this, homeboy?”  Proverb asked while ending his inspection.

“Brother, that looks like it cost more than I can afford.”

He slid the diamond-encrusted watch across the glass counter and said, “Keep it.  It’s slum, but it’ll fool some jewelers like it fooled you.”

I slid the bag of cash over to Proverb and slapped the fake watch on my wrist.  I couldn’t believe it was a fake, but back then, there was so much more about hustling that I still hadn’t learned.

“Still no sign of PeeWee?” he asked, filled with concern.

“Nope.  A hustler got hustled, I’m glad me and you is square though.”

Proverb smiled.  “Yeah—fo’ sure, but never forget that nobody can be trusted and the best hustlers get hustled.  Charge it to the game.”

I thought of PeeWee and said, “Yep.”  I then accepted the gift, and headed out to the Deuce.

“Yo—yo-yo,” I heard someone say behind me.  When I cautiously looked behind me, it was the one person on crutches that I did not want to see.  “Phil got bills and he trying to make a mill.  What up, baby?”

I had gold plates on me and I had to get to the bank quick.  I tried to make small talk when I asked, “What happened to you?”

He looked down at his crutches and puffed on his cigar.  In a sympathetic voice he said, “Yo Gee, for real-fo’real.  I got shot in the ass twice.  Not once baby, but twice.  One in each but-tock.”  His eyes opened as if he were reliving the events. “Yo—some brolic kid with gold fangs came in the park with this other kid, and they started busting at me.  I know it was dem kids that I chased off, but you know what was bugged out?  The kid aimed right at my ass, Gee.  Something up wit dat, Gee; I think the dude was like a homo serial killer that didn’t want my ass to work no more, Gee.”  He then pounded on his chest and said, “But the god made it, Gee, and I still got that dope out there, but I don’t be telling nobody.  For real-fo’real.  Keep it on the hush-hush tip baby.”

Why I stopped for Phil I didn’t know, but I was grateful that Webb didn’t kill him.  Before I had a chance to say anything, he started all over again.

“Yo Gee, I’m taking down seven crackers right now on the driver’s license tip.  Here they come.  If you want to get down, come on.”

I watched as Phil made ten privileged White kids who wanted fake driver’s license hand over $200 apiece.  He handed them permit application forms from the DMV, and then walked them into the photo ID shop in the middle of the block.  Once there, the kids paid for their pictures to be taken.  Phil walked out with the pictures, the cash, and the application, while the kids stood in front of the movies for him to come back.  As I walked away, I shook my head thinking how those marks would be there all night while Phil partied with their cash.

$$$

On my way back to the hotel, I was walking up the Deuce and Cashmere was circling the early Mid-town traffic.  I ducked down for him to see me, and when our eyes met, he waved me over like he was looking for me.  I raced over to the Benz, jumped in, and he said, “I’m heading back to Cali and wanted to hang with my man before it’s all over.  Want to head uptown to Pan-Pan’s for breakfast, you with it?”  I thought of all the times we had together and really didn’t want them to end, so I rode with my man uptown.  I checked the time, and when Cashmere saw my arm glistening, he said, “Damn.  Bling—bling—bling.  You frostier than a hoe on her wedding day.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah well, let me tell you ‘bout this lady last night, playa.  She tried to play a playa and tempt me with ass without the cash.  Man, I had her strip down, and blew her mind without taking my clothes off.  Had her sticking her fingers every which-a-way ‘til she went crazy.  I’ma put that in the book and perfect it.”

My wheels started turning when we reached 110
th
on Lenox Avenue.  “Yeah, what’s the key with that freak-off scene?”

“Playa, it’s simple.  Talk to her, let her put her hands where she likes it, and make sure she don’t touch you.  Sex is mental, playa; get in her head and she will be anything you want her to be in bed.”

We pulled up to Pan-Pan’s.  Cashmere turned stepping inside into a performance.  When we reached the cramped, world-famous breakfast spot, we ate buttered waffles, turkey bacon, and eggs.  After eating, we walked outside across from Harlem Hospital, and I thought I was seeing things.  Crissy was walking my way wearing a gray sweat suit, black high-top Reeboks, and a full-length Shearling coat.  Her jaw dropped when she saw me.  Before she reached me, Cashmere whispered, “Don’t get mad, playa, be an even playa.  Use one of them cons you be running to put that fine hoe in a position where she can hand over some paper, and then leave her stranded.  Think on your feet, playa.  That’s why you the con man, and I’m the mack.”

“Hi, John,” Crissy smiled, already pushing my buttons.

Action!
Went off in my head and I pulled her over to the side. “It’s Johnny Hustle now.”  I flashed the slum Cartier and her eyes danced on each piece of glass.  “When you want some of my time?”  I asked, lacing my voice with honey.  “I know you still want me.”

She looked over at the Benz, then at Cashmere, and then back at me.  “I just dropped my friend off at the bus terminal.  He out of town for the week so what’s up?”

I looked over at Cashmere, winked, and said, “Take my car and enjoy the sun, playa.  Make sure you give me a call so I know where you park it.  Oh yeah, I want to meet Pierre when I come out to the coast.  Tell him about Johnny Hustle.”  I turned to Crissy with love in my eyes.  “Right now, I got to handle some unfinished business.”

Cashmere hit the car alarm while Crissy and I walked a few paces into the luxury apartments of Lenox Terrace.  The doorman looked at us strangely as she smiled her way by him.  When we reached the white-walled spacious apartment, Crissy said, “Have a seat, I’ll be right back.”

The apartment was almost an exact duplicate of the one she and I had in the Bronx.  The same Seaman’s furniture, the same color television, and the same his-and-her champagne glasses against the mirrors on the living room wall.

Crissy returned dripping wet with a purple towel wrapped around her naked mid-section.  “You want me to make you some of those cheese eggs you like?”

I smiled with my mind on the prize.  “Nah, I want you to tell me about your man.”

“What you want to know about, Kev?” she asked with a devilish grin.

I stared at her fine body and immaculate toes and patted the leather couch for her to sit.  I then laid all the cash I had in my pockets on the table, making sure she saw the hundreds on top.  Then I started to elevate my mark.  “You can tell me later.  Right now I want you to sit over here and give me what I really like.”

Crissy’s face lit up.  She took long steps to the couch.  Before her naked butt was firmly planted in the seat, she was fumbling for my zipper.  With no hesitation, Crissy swallowed me.  I had to catch myself.  I pulled out of her mouth and removed her towel.  "Get on the floor,” I ordered, and she didn’t hesitate to comply.

“You gonna take me back?” she asked when the back of her head rested on the carpet.

I thought about Cashmere’s advice and wanted to know if his antics would work for me.  “Just as long as you do what I tell you to do.”

“Okay,” she uttered, aiming to please me.  Once money was involved, I knew Crissy like a book.

“Put both of your nipples in your mouth.”  Crissy followed my orders, licking her pert nipples like she was being paid for it.  “Okay, yeah, now I want you to touch yourself.”  Her eyes closed as her hand trailed its way down to her middle.  She bent her fingers and pressed play on her wet button.

“Umm, um, I like this, John.”

“It’s Johnny Hustle, bitch!  And call me by your man’s name.  Play with yourself and call out Kev’s name.”

Two of Crissy’s fingers started stabbing into her middle.   She held her sugar walls apart with one hand and then moved the other hand in circles on her clit.

“Kev!  Oh-Kev!  Give it to me, Kevin!” her eyes opened, “Like that, Johnny Hustle?’

“Yeah, just like that.  All for Kev in Kev’s house.  Now get on your knees,” I ordered, anger fighting to take over my hustle.

“Now what?” she asked, as her hands moved into her pleasure zone.

“I want to see a finger go in and out of your butt, while the other hand is inside of you.  Try to fit your hand inside of you.  One finger at a time.”

Crissy complied, diminishing any respect I could ever have for her.

“Oh yes, Kev!  Yes, baby,” she moaned as her body rocked into convulsions.

She collapsed and then trembled onto her back.  I knelt by her side, holding the finger she had in her rear.  I then put it to her lips.  “Lick it for Kev and Johnny Hustle.  Lick it all up, baby.”

Crissy’s eyes darted to the cash, then back to me.  “You gonna take me back?”  I nodded and she gladly licked her stench from her fingers.

“You want to be my, bitch?  You want me to take you back?  So you can drive my Benz, wear my furs, and have the whole world, baby?”

“Yes, John—oh, I mean, Johnny Hustle.”

I ripped my belt from my waist and turned it into a noose.  I slipped the circle of life and death around her neck and then pulled it tight.

“Bark, bitch!  Bark like a bitch if you want me to take you back.”

“Ruff!” Crissy barked while on all fours.  “Ruff-ruff-ruff!”

“Louder!” I yelled, walking her towards the bathroom.

“RUFF! RUFF-RUFF! RUFF-RUFF-RUFF-RUFF!” she complied.  Prompting me to take things a step further.

I stopped at the toilet bowl.  Crissy’s forehead furrowed like I was out of my mind.  That day I was.

“I want to take you back.  But I need to know you gonna be a good little bitch.  I can change your world today, but if you gonna be a bitch, then you got to do what bitches do.  Drink out of the toilet!” I commanded.

Her sulking eyes looked up at me.  “How much,” she asked with trembling lips.

I had to stop myself from smiling.  “Just a cup full for Johnny Hustle, baby, and you mine for life.”

Crissy stared at me, searching for the lies that I never told her in the past.  She looked at the water in the toilet, then back at me.  I held my homemade leash and flashed the fake diamonds like she was taking up too much of my time.  Instantly, a hungry glimmer flashed in her eyes.  Diamonds were Crissy’s best friend.

“Good girl,” I commended her when she swallowed hard gulps.  I thought of the day she left me stranded.  How that pain led me to Times Square.  I flushed the toilet on her head and removed my belt from her neck.

I left her in the bathroom as I put a plan together in the living room.  She came out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth.  It was time for phase two of my hustle.

I lovingly smiled at Crissy, held her in my arms, and then kissed the top of her head. “I want you to come live large with me, but you got to invest in what I’m about to do,” I said softly.

I could feel the smile against my shirt.  “What I got to do, boo?  Come on John, I mean Johnny Hustle, I see you Big Willie now.  Take me back.”

“What about your man, Kev?”

She looked up into my eyes.  “What about him?  You the only man for me.  We can live better than we ever been living.  Come on, baby.  We can do this.”

It was hard to contain myself.  I was surely a natural hustler.

“This is what we gonna do, Crissy.  I know your man is paid, or you wouldn’t be with him.  I need some paper so we can fly away to Puerto Rico.  From there, we flying on a private jet to Cable Beach in the Cayman Islands.  I’m about to drop off a half a million down there.  I got a crib and the whole nine down there.  All it needs is a wife inside.  I’m doing big things now, baby, just like you told me to.”

“Can I come?  Please, baby, take me back.”

I looked at her like she should have known better.  “Why you think I came up here?  You been haunting my dreams since the night I saw you at the club.”  I kissed her on the cheek.  “I live in Mid-town.  I didn’t have to come way up here just to eat breakfast.  That’s what I pay my maids for.  I came all the way up here hoping to see you.  I let my man drive my Benz away because I didn’t want him to see me begging you to come live with me.”