Criminal Minded (10 page)

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Authors: Tracy Brown

BOOK: Criminal Minded
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One day while Olivia was visiting with me, Zion came to see me, and by the look on his face I could tell he was troubled. I asked what the problem was.
“Lamin,” he told me. “The block is hot right now.” Bodies had started turning up in Shaolin, and the police were sniffin’ around the victims’ most recent enemies. It didn’t help that the nigga that allegedly shot me was found dead along with two of his cohorts in a wooded area on Travis Avenue. All three had gunshot wounds to the head. Word on the street was that Zion was right on the authorities’ radar. “Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with us ’cause everywhere we go, the boys got their eye on us.”
I felt bad. I was not in a position to do anything to help my partner in crime.
Zion continued. “I had to let a bunch of workers go from Shaolin. I kept Kilo and Don from the Harbor, R. J. and Banks from Now
Born, and Shane from the Hill. But everyone else got a pink slip. Now I’m focusing most of my energy on Brooklyn. But niggas in Brooklyn have more options than these guys on the Island. Brooklyn ain’t payin’ that much for a brick. I’m gonna have to make some trips out of state.”
A warning bell went off in my head. Zion had never taken those trips by himself. We had always been a team. Suddenly, the shit got flipped and I was laid up in the hospital and Zion was out there on his own—holding down his money
and
mine.
“We never make them trips alone,” I said. “I don’t feel right with you being down there without any backup.”
Zion shrugged. “Ain’t no choice, La. We gotta get this money, and it’s too hot in New York right now. You ain’t in no position to go nowhere. So I gotta make this trip by myself.”
“I can go with Zion,” Olivia spoke up. She had been sitting quietly in the corner soaking up our conversation. Up to that point, she had been listening quietly but all of a sudden she had the solution to all our problems.
“What good would that do?” Zion asked frowning.
“I could play Lamin’s role. You show me the ins and outs, and I’ll play my position. I’m a fast learner, plus I’m his sister and it’s my job to have his back.” Olivia was trying real hard to sound convincing. I wasn’t having it.
“Hell no!” I tried to sit up in bed but the pain that surged through my back like
fire
reminded me of them two slugs. I laid myself back down nice and slow. “My baby sister ain’t gettin’ involved in the game.”
“That’s the fuck it, Lamin! I’m not your ‘baby’ sister anymore. I’m grown, goddamn it, and ain’t nobody in this room a baby.” Olivia had a point but I did not appreciate her tone of voice. “Lamin, you’ve always been there to hold me down. From the second I could walk, you’ve been holding my hand. All my clothes, jewelry, and money came from you. I want to hold
you
down now, La. Zion needs a partner. You’re out of commission. I don’t do shit but watch Erica Kane’s triflin’ ass all day, so let me help you.”
As hard as I tried to come up with a rebuttal, I couldn’t. Zion seemed to come up empty, too, ’cause he shrugged his shoulders and looked at me. “Ain’t nobody else we can trust with something like this, La.”
I shook my head. “Gotta be somebody else.”
Olivia folded her arms across her chest. “Who, Lamin? Lucky? You gonna turn ‘Miss Goody Two-Shoes’ on to a life of crime?”
Zion chuckled at the thought.
I chuckled a little, too, even though it hurt to laugh. Finally, I said, “Olivia, I don’t feel right about this at all!” I let out a heavy sigh and stared at my beautiful grown-up sister for a long while. “If anything happens to you …”
“Kill that noise, Lamin. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me. Zion’s got my back.” Olivia winked at Zion and he smiled like a shy adolescent. I was startin’ to wonder what the unspoken conversations they were having was all about, but Lucky came in before I could question it. She greeted Zion and Olivia and then came to my bed.
“Hey, handsome,” she said, smiling. She leaned over and gave me a kiss, and that shit had me smiling, too. Zion and Olivia were right on cue. They rose to leave.
Zion gave me a pound. “Yo, La, I’ma get up witchu tomorrow. Right now, let me go show Olivia what time it is. Get some rest.” I nodded and bid my friend good-bye.
Olivia hit me playfully in the arm. “Love you, Lamin.” She blew me a kiss and off they went.
I said a prayer that nothing would go wrong. ’Cause if it did, I would never forgive myself.
a lot to learn
I took Olivia through all the steps involved in running an
empire. The same way I had schooled Lamin once upon a time, I was now schooling her. She picked it all up quickly, too. I showed her how to use baking soda to cut the product to maximize the profit. Before I knew it, she had that shit down pat, and I was wishing I could be half as good at it as she was. I brought her around the way and introduced her to the workers—first around my way in Brooklyn and then out in Shaolin. They all respected her to the fullest on the strength of Lamin. Then it was time for the biggest challenge—showing her ass how to drive.
Olivia liked to act like she had the world all figured out. If you tell her she can’t do something, she will break her neck—literally—trying to prove you wrong. In a way, I admired that quality in her. But on the other hand, that shit can be dangerous.
I made the mistake of telling her that I was going to
teach
her how to drive.
“I
know
how to drive, Zion. Lamin taught me.” She was offended.
I laughed at her. “Lamin taught you how to drive to the store and to the beauty parlor. I’m gonna show you how to drive when you need to get away from the boys.”
“What boys?” Olivia looked confused.
I shook my head in frustration. It was times like this that I wondered whether or not she was cut out for this shit. “THE ‘BOYS,’
Olivia! Five-oh. The jakes. The boys in blue. Po—po …” I was tired of explaining simple shit to her!
“Alright, Zion, damn! I get it!” she yelled. “You always try to make me feel stupid.”
“Then stop sayin’ stupid shit!”
“I ain’t sayin’ stupid shit!”
“Well, stop asking stupid-ass questions, then!”
“I wouldn’t have to ask stupid questions if your stupid ass would explain shit right the first time!”
I had to smile to myself. Olivia never backed down for shit, and I loved that about her.
“C’mon!” I barked. She followed me pouting like the spoiled brat that she was.
Time to show her a thing or two.
When we got to the car I threw her the keys, and she caught them with one hand. That was impressive for a girl whose nails were always perfectly manicured. She didn’t look like the sporty type, but Olivia was a tomboy at heart. But she had to be the loveliest tomboy I’d ever seen.
She hit the power locks, and I opened the passenger side door, while she climbed into the driver’s seat. She put on her seat belt, adjusted her mirrors, and all that shit they teach you in driver’s ed. I guess I was supposed to be impressed, but it would take more than that to make me amazed. I told her to drive to Forest Avenue. She did, and the whole time she was obeying the speed limit, following all the rules. When we got to Forest Avenue, I told her to turn right, and soon we were at the red light in the turning lane headed for the expressway. Olivia had panic written all over her face. I saw the little beads of sweat falling on her face, despite the fact that the air conditioning was pumping frigid air through the vents. I smiled, satisfied to know that this girl who was usually so sure of herself was now sweating bullets and nervous.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, trying to hide my joy.
Olivia swallowed hard. “Zion, I never drove on the expressway before.”
Her voice was so low that I pretended to strain to hear her. “What?”
Olivia was pissed now. “I
said
, I never drove on the expressway, Zion!”
The light turned green. “Well, you will now,” I said. “Make this left and just follow the car in front of you.”
Olivia looked like a deer caught in headlights as she slowly turned the steering wheel. The cars behind us pressed their horns at her slow ass, but Olivia was determined to maintain her thirty-mile-per-hour speed.
“You have to speed up,” I told her. She said nothing and continued cruising toward the expressway. Soon we were set to merge into the long line of cars that were boarding the Staten Island Expressway. Instead of putting on her signal and finding an opportunity to get in the lane, Olivia stopped dead in her tracks. The cars behind us were really honking now!
“OLIVIA! Get in the lane!” I yelled.
Olivia shot me a treacherous look and hit the gas, turning the wheel so far to the left that the car jerked forward and into the left lane cutting off a Honda Civic. The driver … son looked like he was gonna lose control of that Civic! But he didn’t. He blasted his horn and yelled all kinds of shit at us. Olivia, like a true New Yorker, gave him the finger and kept right on going. Now, we were on the expressway. Olivia’s right leg, her driving leg, was shaking and trembling from nervousness. We were in the slow lane, but Olivia was still going thirty miles per hour. Cars were switchin’ lanes and givin’ her dirty looks. I laughed out loud when an old lady passed us in her car and yelled, “Sunday driver!” at the top of her lungs. Olivia didn’t find shit funny.
“Zion, what the fuck are you laughing at?”
I composed myself and decided to show her how to drive for real. “Shut up, and listen for once, Miss I—can—drive!” Olivia was heated. I didn’t care. “Get all the way over to the last lane.”
“That’s the fast lane, Zion!” she protested.
“No shit! Get in that lane.”
Olivia put on her turn signal and kept driving, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.
“Ma, you can’t wait for somebody to let you in!” I told her. “You have to
make
them let you in.”
“How?” she asked me, looking all frustrated.
I felt a little sorry for her. Just a little. “You gotta trust me and follow my directions,” I said.
Olivia nodded.
“First of all, pick up some speed,” I told her. She pushed the gas until the speedometer read sixty. Her leg was really shakin’ now. “Now after this white car passes, get in the next lane.”
Olivia looked in the rearview mirror. “But there’s a red car right behind it, Zion. How do I just—”
“Just do what I say!”
Olivia was hardheaded as hell! The white car passed, but she didn’t hesitate like I thought she would. She turned the steering wheel and eased into the center lane between the white car and the red car. “Good,” I told her. She smiled.
“Now put your signal on again and get in the fast lane.” Olivia’s leg was jumpin’ again. She looked in the mirror and I swear she had a million chances to get in that lane, but she kept hesitating! I sighed loudly.
“
Olivia!
If this is gonna work, you gotta listen to me and never second-guess what I’m telling you. Five-oh could be hot on our trail and we could have bricks in the backseat and burners in the glove compartment. If I tell you to make a move, you gotta make it, or both of us could end up dead.”
“I know that, Zion …”
“You don’t know SHIT about this game, Olivia!” I was all out of patience. “Stop acting like you got it all figured out. You’re just a new jack in this shit. Enough niggas done found themselves six feet under thinking they know shit when they don’t. Now, just learn to listen to what I’m telling you, or you can go back to high school!”
Olivia had tears in her eyes but I didn’t care. She had to put down
some of that pride before that shit got us in serious trouble. “Now,” I said, making sure my seat belt was secure. “Get in the fast lane!”
She did. And she never let a tear fall from her eyes. Now we were gettin’ somewhere. “Go faster,” I told her. “Keep your speed at seventy and stay in this lane.”
About five minutes later a Grand Am passed us doing at least eighty miles per hour. “Follow him,” I told Olivia. She looked at me and started to protest, but she must have thought twice about it. She followed the Pontiac.
“Stay on his tail and just go a little slower than him,” I said. “That way, if the boys are around, he’ll be the one they pull over and not us.” She listened, and every time he switched lanes, I made her do the same. When we got to the Verrazano Bridge, I told her to relax and reduce her speed. We crossed the bridge and I let her drive the rest of the way to my house at a normal speed. When we got there I showed her the art of parallel parking in New York City, and Lesson Number One was complete. When she took the key out of the ignition she looked relieved. She laid her head on the steering wheel and sighed.
“Welcome to Hustling 101,” I told her. I got out of the car and headed to my house. Olivia followed.
Zion made me sick! Actin’ like he’s the king of all hustlers. I was pissed! Every time I stepped on the gas, my heart raced faster and faster. When Zion made me switch lanes, I felt my life slippin’ away from me. I was scared to death. But as we entered Zion’s house, I was starting to feel better.
Zion went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I plopped down on the sofa and my mind went back to the night we spent together after Lamin was shot. I hoped that we could do a replay of that night. He came out of the kitchen with a forty-ounce in his hand. His Karl Kani jeans hung low on his waist and he looked so sexy.
“So what’s the next step?” I asked him. “I know how to drive a
getaway car, I know all your police terminology, and I cook like Betty Crocker. Now what?”
Zion shrugged. “Now we get on the grind. I’m gonna bring you with me to Maryland this weekend to do some business. Until then, you just need to stay out of trouble and practice drivin’.”
The phone rang and Zion went to answer it. From what I could hear of his conversation, it sounded like he was talking to a female. I wasn’t sure, but his tone had softened and his voice was low, as if he didn’t want me to hear what he was saying. When he took the phone into the kitchen, I followed, undetected.
“I told you I got company, Donna. I’ll call you later on when I’m not so busy …”
Donna? Who the fuck was Donna?
“Come on, ma. Don’t be like that,” Zion was saying. “I got my hands full right now, but you still my baby.”
That was all I had to hear. I stormed into the kitchen and snatched the phone out of Zion’s hand before he even knew what happened.
“Bitch, who the fuck are you?” I screamed into the receiver. “Don’t be fuckin’ callin’ Zion—”
Zion snatched the phone back from me and yelled, “What the fuck are you doin’?”
I ripped the whole phone out the wall and turned around to see him looking shocked. “Who the fuck is Donna, Zion?”
Zion laughed as if he was amazed by my boldness. He still seemed pissed off, though. “Olivia, that shit is none of your business. You can’t come in my house and start hangin’ up on people—”
“Why can’t I? You’re disrespectin’ me! Talkin’ to a bitch on the phone while I’m sittin’ here …”
“How is that disrespectin’ you, Olivia? You ain’t my girl!”
“Well what am I then, Zion?” I hated him and loved him at the same time at that very moment.
Zion seemed to be lost for words. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as if he suddenly had a headache. “Olivia, come on, baby girl. Don’t put a nigga under pressure like that …”
“Tell me what I am, Zion!” I was inches away from his face and I could feel his breath as we stood eye to eye.
“Olivia—”
“What?” I demanded, my voice echoing off the walls of his spacious kitchen. “What, Zion?”
Zion grabbed me by the back of my head and pulled me close to him. His mouth engulfed mine, and I felt liberated and turned on by his roughness. He tore off my shirt, ripping a few buttons off in the process, and I matched his intensity as we kissed. Soon, we were headed for his bedroom leaving a trail of clothes and buttons, sneakers and Timbs behind us. The minute we entered the room, Zion picked me up—scooped me in his arms like I was as light as a feather—and threw me on the bed. My head hit the pillows and before I knew what hit me, Zion was on top of me. Zion’s lips were inches from mine and he smiled. “This is what you want, right?” he asked me.
I smiled back at him. “Hell, yeah,” I said and kissed him. His mouth felt like paradise, and I massaged his dick as I tongued him. Zion and I were like fire. He rolled over on his back, pulling me on top of him. Now the tables were turned, and I straddled him. Zion put his hands behind his head and grinned.
“Let’s see whatchu all about,” he said. I showed him. I rode Zion like a pony, and he couldn’t help but love it. His body was exquisite, and his light skin looked so good against my dark-chocolate hue. Damn, he was fine! He licked his lips and enjoyed the ride. The more I looked at his six-pack and his muscle-bound chest, the harder I rode him. The phone on the bedside table kept ringin’, and I knew it must be that bitch Donna. I reached over and picked it up. Zion didn’t stop me. Instead, he smiled as I pressed the talk button. “Hello?” I answered, breathless.
“Who the fuck are you?” Donna asked. But from my point of view she was in no position to be asking questions. I continued ridin’ Zion, and his moans were very audible. I smiled and spoke into the receiver. “I’m the bitch makin’ him cum right now, Donna. That’s who the fuck I am!” I put the phone down on the table, allowing her
to hear what I was doing to Zion. I continued my rodeo routine, windin’ my hips and grinding my shit into him so good that he couldn’t help tellin’ me how good it was. I thought he was gonna bust at least twice but he didn’t. Instead, he turned me over on my side and spooned me, holding on to my nipples and telling me how good my pussy was. I came immediately, and that’s what he was waiting for. Zion came as well, and we were drained, laying breathless with our bodies intertwined.
Neither of us spoke. We lay there, neither of us wanting to break the silence that was awkward and perfect at the same time. Zion touched a strand of my hair, wrapped it around his finger gently, and just looked at me. I looked in his eyes then, and swore I saw my future. But he looked away and continued to play with my hair. I reached up and touched his face, tracing the outline of his goatee and his thin mustache. My fingers came to rest on his lips and he kissed them—each of my fingers one by one. I knew then that I would always love Zion. There were no words, yet it was the most intimate conversation we had ever had. He kissed my neck and then licked down toward my breasts. And just when I thought Zion couldn’t take me higher, he did. Over and over.
By the time I fell asleep that night in Zion’s arms, he had given me three orgasms and I had given him two. We slept, both of us feeling safer with each other than we’d ever felt before.

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