Cigar Bar (2 page)

She began to stroke her face, which also felt good. She smiled and said, “Wow!” No matter what she touched, everything felt so magnificent.

While she was in this mood, Tony took complete advantage. He bent down and began to lick her young, virginal vagina. “Ohhh,” she moaned. “Wow! Tony, that feels amazing.” She had masturbated before but it never felt like this. She thought that she was in heaven. Tony rose up and watched as she writhed on the bed in ecstasy and listened as she begged him not to stop.

Tony climbed on top and slowly inserted himself into her tight, young pussy. Sherry went wild at the feel of him inside her. She began to buck upward wildly, trying to get him to go deeper. They lay in the bed, fucking hard. Tony had lost all sense of time. He cared about nothing but staring down at this young girl and sexing her.

Paulie was still irate and, to make matters worse, he glanced down at his Rolex and saw that it was almost 4:30. He froze. “Hey, what the fuck?! How come you dickheads didn’t tell me it was four-thirty and my fuckin’ sister hasn’t come home yet?”

The men had nothing to say. None of the bodyguards wanted to be the one to get a smack from Paulie, so they kept quiet. Paulie bellowed, “You know something? I think I need another set of fuckin’ bodyguards because you fuckers are worthless!”

He ordered one of his goons to go down the block to find his little sister. “Listen,” he said, “I’m gonna go over here and check on Tony. This motherfucker owes me some money, and I’ll get me a plate from
Mrs.
Santoro. I think I smell some linguini cooking, and nobody does it like she does.” Paulie licked his lips and headed across the street. His men began to follow him. Treating them as if they were puppies, Paulie turned to them and shouted, “Stay!”

Mrs. Santoro was like a mother to him, and even though Tony was a dope fiend, Paulie still treated him like a brother. They were as close as brothers, and he sometimes gave Tony drugs on the house so he wouldn’t get sick. Anybody else would have died before Paulie gave up any anything for free.

He walked to the back of the house, called out to Tony, and peeked inside. “Yo, Tony, you in here, man?” There was no reply, so he decided to go in, head upstairs, and grab a plate of food for himself and one for Sherry. He felt comfortable just walking in since the family had that kind of relationship with him.

After he got the food, he went into the basement. “Hey, Tony, where the fuck are you, man?” Paulie asked as he walked in. He halted in his tracks as he saw a pair of legs in the air and Tony pumping up and down, naked from the waist down. “Oh shit! My bad,” he said out loud as he turned to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Paulie saw something familiar. He looked closer and then he realized what he was seeing: a book bag that looked just like Sherry’s.

As he inched a little closer, Paulie heard a strange noise pounding in his head, and his heart began to beat faster and faster. He felt as though he was a character in a bad horror flick. He thought to himself,
No, no, no! This shit can’t be fuckin’ happening.
Then he heard her moan. It was then that the tears began to fill his eyes and he almost threw up. Paulie was witnessing his sweet, little sister being sexually violated by Tony.

During the time that he was in the room watching what was going on, Tony was completely oblivious; he was high on heroin and the young girl’s sensual body. Finally fulfilling his long-awaited desire to have Sherry just put him over the moon, into the stratosphere, into another dimension.

Paulie pulled out his gun and pointed it in their direction. As he started to walk toward them, tears stained his face. There was murder on his mind.

Just as he got to the foot of the stairs, he heard shouting. “Tony, Tony! Your father needs—” Mrs. Santoro was running down the stairs yelling when she saw Paulie crying and holding the gun. “Paulie, what the hell are you doing with that gun out in my house?” She looked to the right, in the direction of Paulie’s murderous gaze. She saw what he was looking at.

In that very moment, Tony turned and saw Paulie and his gun. “Oh shit!” he screamed.

“What the fuck is going on down here?” Mrs. Santoro screeched.

Just then, Paulie was stuck in a dilemma. He did not want to disrespect his surrogate mother, yet he wanted to kill her son. Tony saw the confusion on his face. He took the opportunity to grab his pants, then jumped out of the bathroom window.

By the time Paulie saw, it was too late. His slow reaction to the situation gave Tony time to escape. Paulie ran to the window and let loose about eight shots that echoed loudly.
Boom! Boom! Boom!

Tony dove into his car headfirst. He owned a newer model, so all he had to do was push a button and the car started right up. He lay down and pressed the gas pedal just as the rear window shattered. Having grown up on this block, Tony could drive blindfolded down if he had to. As he sped down the block, Paulie’s men saw what was going down and began to fire in the direction of the speeding car.
Pop! Pop! Pop!

He almost lost control when he got to the corner, hitting the curb while trying to turn. The speeding automobile did a 360, slammed into two other cars, and got stuck. Paulie and his boys were firing at his car while running toward him but Tony didn’t stop. He kept his hand pressed down on the gas until the car ripped away from the other. He careened out of there, and all the gangsters could see was a screeching car whiz down the street. They had no chance to chase him because Paulie had sent his car down the block earlier to look for his sister.

“Fuck!” Paulie shouted. Then he turned and ran back to the basement. When he got there, he saw Mrs. Santoro holding Sherry’s head and wiping her face with a cold towel.

“Call for help!” she screamed at Paulie. He looked at his little sister with sadness, anger, and disgust. She was high. He thought,
Not only did that motherfucker violate you, but he drugged you up too.

“Paulie, what the hell is going on?” asked Mrs. Santoro.

Paulie could do nothing but stare down at his little sister, who was zoned out, lost in another world. He walked over to Sherry and picked her up. As Paulie walked out of the house, Mrs. Santoro grabbed a blanket from the bed and covered the young girl’s naked body.

His crew was stunned. The guys couldn’t believe what they were seeing. They knew that no matter what, Paulie was not to be messed with. One of them opened the front door for the boss. He walked his little sister in and carefully sat her down on the couch. He was in just as much of a trance as Sherry was.

As soon as he got there, Sherry turned her head and threw up on him several times. He was so distraught that he didn’t even bother to wipe it off. For the first time in his life, Paulie felt powerless. Then his anger grew again, deep within him, and he knew what his next move would be. He walked out and called his crew.

“Listen, fuck the nigger for now. We have bigger problems to deal with, so turn the fuckin’ cars around and find Tony! I want this motherfucker brought to me
alive!
You can whoop his ass, but do not fuckin’ kill him! You got it?”

With that, his crew disappeared, each man cocking his gun as if he was preparing for war. Little did they know, a war was brewing right around the bend, a war that one man had planned on having.

Paulie had temporarily forgotten about the crew in Harlem that he had disrespected over the phone a short time earlier. He incorrectly believed that the man he had insulted would just bend over and take it just like everybody else. But he was wrong. Dead wrong. Paulie was screwing with the GC crew.

Spazo

Spazo was a member of the GC Crew, a gang that he had formed with his partner Ghetto. GC stood for Ghetto Child. They were young boys making a lot of noise out in the streets, and everybody knew who they were. They acted out a lot while growing up. They always got into some trouble and were always fighting. The two were straight-up bad boys until they earned the respect from the people. Now people feared them.

Ghetto was from Newark and Spazo was from the Polo Grounds in Harlem. Ghetto’s family lived in Harlem. The two became best friends, hanging out, traveling around together, and doing dirt until they grew smarter.

They each had their own style. Ghetto was smooth but dangerous, and most people feared him. People knew not to mess with him. His style was fly: jeans and sneakers, sweatshirts and diamonds. He had a closetful of expensive kicks. He drove a black-on-black big-boy Mercedes V-12 with low-profile tires.

Spazo wore expensive suits. He was a dark-skin brother with deep dimples and muscles that ripped through his clothing. He fancied his muscular body, working out every day in his custom-built gym. Women loved the hell out of him. He brushed his hair quite often, forming waves as tight as the ocean. He considered himself a simple man, although he wore $3000 Armani suits and a watch that cost him 10 grand. Spazo was sharp but not flashy. He didn’t need to be flashy. People could look at him and know that his threads cost money. His Audi R8 Coupe was probably his flashiest possession.

Although sharp, cool, and good-looking, Spazo was a killer. He had quite a few bodies under his belt. If Ghetto wanted someone murdered, Spazo usually was the one who handled it personally.

Spazo laughed as he drove his car down the boulevard. He parked his car on 132 Street and 8 Avenue and then walked into a store to grab a Dutch. Wherever he walked, people gave him mad love and respect. He was definitely well known, not only in his hood, but in most hoods. As he stepped back outside, a black Range Rover pulled up, and five dudes dressed in black jumped out.

Spazo split his Dutch down the middle and dumped the cigar tobacco on the ground. The wind blew the tobacco down the street. The men stopped right in front of Spazo as he brazenly rolled his blunt and bopped his head to the song “Riding High” by Faze-O that was playing softly from his car.

As his men stopped, he spoke. “Y’all know that white boy Paulie? Go show him some real-nigga shit.” He licked his blunt, wrapped the paper around nice and snug, lit it up, and got in his car. The men jumped in the Range Rover and drove in the opposite direction.

Spazo’s phone rang. His younger sister Dawn was calling. She was 19 and very beautiful, with long, black hair and cocoa-colored skin. She was coming from Georgia to spend the week with him because it was her friend’s birthday. Dawn had stunning good looks, light-brown eyes, and an incredible body. But she was hiding a secret.

“Hey, you there already?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, “I’m just calling to let you know that the flight was delayed, so I won’t be there until nine tonight. Monique is gonna pick me up, and I’m gonna stay over there tonight. Well, if that’s okay with you.”

He paused, then spoke. “
Monique?
Humph, I don’t know about that. She getting a lil’ wild out here now, and some people think she doin’ dope and shit. Yeah, a couple cats be telling me shit about her.”

“Well, do you really think I’m gonna get involved in that bullshit? If that’s the case, then I’ll just stay home.”

He relented. “Okay, damn! I miss my baby sis. So, listen, as soon as you touch down, call me so I know you’re okay, and then if you need me, just holla. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at her house, cool?”

“Cool. I love you, big brother.”

He pulled away from the curb and headed down the street. He couldn’t help but think about what he was about to do because he knew that he was starting a gang war. But he also knew that he would not be disrespected in any kind of way. He had to make the first move.

• • •

Unbeknownst to him, his sister Dawn was already in New York, and she was hanging with Monique, a girl he didn’t really know that well.

“Girl, come on!” Dawn yelled to her friend as they went out to get a blunt so they could twist up. His little sister had been getting high for a while now, but no one in the family knew. Her girlfriend Monique had told her about an Italian guy who always had thousands of dollars and wanted to hang out with them, so here they were. “Is it just going to be me and you? And how many guys are there gonna be, Monique?” she asked.

“No, Dawn, it’s just going to be one guy and me and you.”

“And what are we supposed to do?”

Monique replied, “Well, he said he wants to have a threesome, and I figured you would be down, girl. Shit, remember how we did Jay? That shit was the bomb, bitch! And don’t
even
tell me you didn’t like it! That nigga had your ass squirting and screaming at the same fuckin’ time!”

“True, but, Monique, a fuckin’
white
boy? I don’t know.”

“Listen, girl, I’m not gonna lie. His dick ain’t as big as Jay’s shit was, but this white boy loves to eat pussy. Shit! He had me screaming like a motherfucker and he wouldn’t stop. I think I came at least five gotdamn times on his face. And get this…he does dope, so his dick stays hard.”

Dawn looked at her and laughed. “Okay! Fuck it! I could use a good pussy lapping from you and him. As they went back to Monique’s house to start their night off with a little get-high, Dawn found herself not saying anything as Monique sprinkled a little crack on top of the weed. She stared at her. “What the fuck is that, Mo?”

“Trust me, girl. Just hit this shit and you’ll find out,” replied Monique.

Without hesitation, the girl lit the blunt that was laced with rock. As she exhaled, she felt as if her spirit left her body and then quickly flew back in. Dawn was in a daze. “Wow!” she said as she bent down on one knee like she was in a huddle.

Monique took the blunt, inhaled, and joined the girl on the floor. They smoked and enjoyed the moment. “Girl, listen here. I think we can get a couple of Gs from this white boy.”

“Whatever,” replied Dawn. She wanted to do nothing but chill and enjoy her high.

Tony

Tony could not believe what he had just done. He knew that from this point on, there was no way he could ever return home. He picked up his Phone and called his cousin.

“Yeah, who is this?”