White Lines (41 page)

One day he brought her along with him when he went to Park Hill. He still had control of most of the drug trade out there, and he was in the area to check up on his crew. He took Jada with him to the stash house, and she waited in the living room while he talked to his man in the kitchen. Jada seemed jumpy, almost nervous, and Born couldn’t figure out why. He didn’t see her slip two crack vials into her pocket when his back was turned, and when they left she seemed a whole lot more relaxed. As they exited the building, they ran into Jamari and Wizz standing
in the lobby smoking weed with a couple of local niggas. Born had almost forgotten about the allegiance the two of them had formed. He’d been so focused on getting money, mourning Dorian, and worrying about Jada, that he’d forgotten about these two clowns. He smirked as he escorted Jada past them and out of the building. Once outside, the two of them climbed into his car.

Born pulled off, and they headed home. But back in the building lobby, Jamari and Wizz watched him drive away, and exchanged glances. Both of them held a grudge against Born. Wizz was still resentful that Born had snatched his turf right out from underneath him. Now Dorian was dead, and Wizz felt the playing field was level now. He was ready to go to war with Born.

Jamari had stood in the lobby watching Born usher Jada to his car. He had once been Born’s friend, had once wanted to be just like Born, to have the same respect and admiration that Born got in the hood. As he watched Born put his beautiful girlfriend in his car, Jamari was jealous. He stared at Jada’s golden skin and pretty face. Her ass poking out of her BeBe jeans. He had lust in his eyes and jealousy in his heart, as he watched Born drive off with Jada. Wizz wanted war. But unbeknownst to Born, Jamari wanted Jada.

It was two days later, and she was back at it. Jada nervously hurried through the apartment toward the door. She knew that Chuck could come back at any minute. She turned the knob and sucked in her breath in shock when she saw a man standing there. He seemed startled by her reaction to him, and she apologized, realizing that he was only walking past the apartment on his way to the elevator.

“Excuse me,” she said, apologetically. “You scared me a little.” She was relieved that it wasn’t Chuck or one of the other workers—or even worse, Born himself! She spent more and more time these days worrying about whether Born’s eyes behind his back would catch her in the act. She found herself constantly looking in her rearview mirror when she was driving, fearful that she was being followed. Whenever she got high at home, she was constantly peeking out of the blinds and searching
the house for imaginary hidden cameras. Jada was growing paranoid.

Jamari smiled at Jada. “I’m sorry about that. I never meant to scare you.”

Jada was glad that she had on her shades, since she didn’t want the stranger to recognize her. The elevator came, and they both boarded. The doors closed on them, and Jamari turned to Jada.

“You’re Born’s wife, right?”

Jada’s eyes widened in horror. Who was this guy, and would he tell Born that he’d
seen
her there? How would she explain it? “Yeah,” she said, simply.

Jamari nodded. “He’s a very lucky man, knawmean? ‘Cuz you’re gorgeous.”

Jada relaxed, hearing this. She smiled. Surely this man was no friend of Born’s. All of his cohorts and henchmen would have known better than to speak to Jada this freely. They all knew that the penalty for crossing the line with Born’s wifey was death. Jada thanked the stranger just as the doors opened to the lobby.

“Have a nice day,” she said.

“You, too.” Jamari watched her scurry toward her silver Acura, and drive off. He licked his lips in anticipation, and walked away.

And that was how she met him. He was just some guy waiting for the elevator. The next time Jada went back, she saw him again. He started flirting with her more and more, and it made Jada feel sexy. Not that she wasn’t happy with Born. She was. And she never cheated on him. But everybody respected Born, and Jada was one hundred percent off-limits. No one would disrespect Born enough to say something slick to his wifey. So it felt good to meet somebody for a change who wasn’t afraid to say, “I don’t give a damn who her man is. She’s fine!” Jada would talk to Jamari for a few minutes each time she ran into him. She should have figured out that he was watching her. That he knew what she was up to. But she was too focused on getting high. Jada had started to use crack again.

It was at a party in 1998 that Jada’s mask was taken off. Jada was
sweating like a runaway slave. She was on the dance floor at a local nightclub, Prodigy, in Staten Island, dancing all her worries away. She was tired of feeling bad about her crack use. She enjoyed the rush, the surge through her body that she felt when she was high. She was dancing away the pain, and she didn’t give a damn what song was playing or who was watching.

At the bar, Wizz elbowed his boy Jamari, and nodded toward the dance floor. “Ain’t that your girl? That’s Born’s wifey. The one you’re always telling me is so fly, and all that shit. She high as hell right about now, nigga. Look at her.” Wizz was in hysterics, doubled over with laughter, as he watched Jada’s performance.

Jada was doing the running man, the cabbage patch, the tootsie roll, the wop, and the robot in consecutive order. She seemed to be on a trip all her own, as the deejay played Lil Kim’s “Crush on You.” She was dancing to a beat that no one heard but her. Shante, her old friend, was sitting at a table close to the dance floor with some of her girls. She laughed at Jada, too, and said to one of her friends sitting beside her, “She been buying us drinks all night, so don’t y’all bitches let her see us laughing!” They all laughed, and slapped hands in agreement, with Jada deaf to their mockery of her.

Jamari shook his head, although he couldn’t help but laugh as well. “That’s a shame. You can’t tell me that nigga don’t know she smokin’. Why he don’t get her some help, clean her up? She’s a pretty girl.”

Wizz blew him off. “Nigga, please. The bitch is a crackhead. She got no class to be out here, half dressed like that, doing all that jumping around.” He looked at Jada as if she disgusted him. She wore a tight sweater with no bra, and a denim miniskirt. Her Jimmy Choo shoes were in her hands as she danced like she was at an audition for
Krush Groove.
“She’s supposed to be his wifey, and he ain’t taught her nothing. She’s out here off point, spending all kinds of money, with all that mouth her man got, and all the enemies he done made. She lucky I don’t snatch her stupid ass up and extort that nigga.” Wizz talked big shit, as usual.

“All I’m saying is, she seems like she needs help. Born ain’t got no
time to see when somebody else needs help. Everything gotta always be about him. The nigga’s so busy trying to be the man his father once was that he don’t see his own shorty slippin’.” Jamari stared at Jada making a complete ass of herself. “I used to look up to the nigga and shit, but then he had to act like I couldn’t eat the same way he was eatin’. Like I couldn’t floss like he was flossin’. He didn’t want to share the wealth, ‘cuz that nigga thinks he’s somebody special.” Jamari stared at Jada like she was the only one in the room. “He ain’t fuckin’ special. Nigga think shit is sweet. He ain’t even gonna see me coming.”

Wizz looked at Jamari and wondered if he knew how stupid he sounded. Wizz wanted to bring the war right to Born’s doorstep, and go toe-to-toe for control of Park Hill. He hoped to ambush Born in Park Hill with his team of hitmen, and shoot it out once and for all. But Jamari kept talking about some plan he had. Some big thing that Born wasn’t gonna see coming. Wizz shook his head, and knew that soon he would proceed with his own plan for war, rather than wait for Jamari’s big plan to work out. They both laughed at Jada until she walked, breathlessly, from the dance floor, headed toward the bathroom.

Jamari stood and watched her disappear behind the bathroom door, understanding now why she was constantly sneaking into her man’s drug lair. When he first noticed her waiting for Born’s workers to leave before going inside the spot, Jamari thought she might be taking money from him, even entertained the thought that she was fucking one of his workers on the low. But now he knew. She was stealing crack, and Born must not know that she was smoking. Jamari knew Born well enough to know that he would never stand for Jada using drugs. This was Jamari’s trump card.

Jada underestimated Staten Island’s street buzz. Word traveled fast about her performance at the Prodigy, and it was Jamari who did the honor of bringing it to the man himself.

Jamari went to a card game that Chance was having. The setting was familiar territory for everyone—Chance’s mom’s house in Arlington. The whole crew was there, and to Born it felt like old times again. Jada didn’t come with him this time. She was at home, sleeping so soundly
that none of Born’s efforts to wake her were successful. So tonight he’d gone solo to Chance’s card game, and spent the evening talking shit and making money. But when Jamari arrived, Born stood to leave, and he passed Jamari on his way out. As usual, Jamari was all warm smiles and kind words to Born’s face, asking how he was doing and sincerely seeming to care. Born answered Jamari, but looked at him as the has-been, as the wannabe that he was. Born kept his comments brief, and tried to pass his former friend by.

But Jamari called after him. “Yo, I saw your wifey up in Prodigy the other night. She looked like the Energizer Bunny in there, my nigga. She was dancing so hard and sweating so much, but she didn’t care who was laughing. She was in her own little world. Knawmean?” Jamari grinned as he said it.

Born looked at him, wondering why every time he looked at Jamari all he saw was a snake. He looked at him like he was a piece of shit. He walked away without commenting on what Jamari had told him. But, as he left, Born replayed it over and over in his head. “She was in her own little world.” Born had been told that Jada’s car was being spotted more and more often in Park Hill. At first he worried that it might be another man. But hearing Jamari’s words, Born’s heart sank, and he wondered if she was getting high again. She couldn’t be, he told himself, shoving the thought to the corners of his mind. But he didn’t forget it.

Instead, he watched her. He picked up on all the things she did and said that were suspect. He took note of all the inconsistent behaviors, and began to piece together the puzzle. Dorian’s words on the night of his birthday party rang in his ears constantly:
“Keep your eye on Jada. Pay attention to her. Make sure she’s keeping her nose clean.”

Born’s heart began to break ever so slowly, as the truth began to reveal itself. About three weeks later Born took Jada along with him on a trip to Park Hill. He said he had to pick up some money, and to handle some quick business, and then he would take her out for dinner. She was looking forward to it, since it had been a while since she had been in the mood to do something like this. She’d been more and more depressed, and Born had been spending more time away from home. Jada hoped
that this would be like old times between them. She longed for life to return to how it had been in the beginning for them. She wanted to feel like she was the thing that was most important to Born, more important than the wealth and the status.

Inwardly, Born was tormented. He knew the truth in his heart, knew that she was using drugs again. He recognized the signs now, and he had retreated from her in order to spare himself the pain. They hadn’t spent quality time together in a very long time.

She followed Born upstairs, to the same stash house that she was stealing from on a regular basis now. It felt awkward coming here with him, after all the times she’d been there stealing his work over the past several weeks. He opened the door, and she followed him inside. Chuck sat on the couch in the living room watching the large television. Born greeted Chuck and the other worker, Omar, who stood in the kitchen with a beer in his hand.

Born left Jada out front with his workers, while he went to the back room where his goods were kept. He stayed back there for close to ten minutes before emerging with his nostrils flaring. “Which one of y’all niggas is stealing from me?” his voice was booming, and Jada’s heart paused momentarily.

She knew that she had been at the apartment earlier in the day, when she was supposed to be going to the nail salon. Jada had taken what Born was so obviously angry about. This time, instead of her usual one or two, she had been bold enough to take five cracks from the stash. She’d thought that it would be days before Born came here to check on his stash. She wanted to kick herself now for being so greedy and leaving such an obvious deficit.

“Which one of y’all niggas is skimming off the top?” Born looked enraged.

Chuck looked stunned, and nervous. He looked at his boy Omar, and hoped for both their sakes that he hadn’t stolen from Born. Omar looked just as at a loss for words, and Born grew more agitated with each second that his questions went unanswered. He looked at Chuck, and drew his
.40 caliber. He pointed it at Chuck, and saw the fear in the young soldier’s eyes. Chuck wasn’t ready to die yet.

Chuck started begging for his life. “Yo, Born, I swear, man. I didn’t take shit from you. I swear,” Chuck said, nervously.

Born shook his head, unmoved. “Then who you had up in here with you?” Born swung the gun toward Omar, who trembled in fear. Born looked irate. “You stealing from me, Omar? Huh?”

Born’s eyes were narrowed angrily, and Omar shook his head no, emphatically. “I just came back today from Delaware with Dorian’s brothers. You know I wouldn’t steal from you, Born.”

Born listened to reason. Omar had been one of Dorian’s most trusted soldiers long before he died. Omar’s loyalty had been put to the test time and time again, and the young man had been proven trustworthy. Born knew deep down that Omar wouldn’t steal from him. He turned his attention back to Chuck.

“So, you got some explaining to do, my nigga. I put you in charge of this spot.
You!
You’re the only one that got keys to this muthafucka besides me! So I want you to tell me who been stealing my fuckin’ work.”