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Authors: Trae Macklin

Tags: #FICTION/African American/Urban Life

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BOOK: Flippin' the Hustle
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When he walked through her front door, he tried to kiss her, but she turned her face and gave him a tight embrace. He could tell she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But he knew she was still hurting because of him and expressing it through her standoffish demeanor.

“Have a seat.” She directed him to her couch in the living room and sat on the loveseat across from him.

“I guess the best way to start this is by emphasizing that I never intended to hurt you,” Derrick said.

“Yeah, just my brother,” Naria said, rolling her eyes.

“It's complex. This whole situation.”

Naria folded her arms over her chest. “I comprehend complex issues very well.”

Derrick leaned forward and ran his hand over his head. “I need you to try and understand this in its totality. How I came to be where I could be in the position to go after your brother and how I came to understand that I couldn't do that.”

“Okay.”

“Just like RJ, my life changed when my older brother was murdered.”

“I thought you didn't have any siblings?”

He huffed. “Just hear me out. I'm giving you everything there is to know about me.” He looked into her eyes. “Just promise me you won't tell your brother about this.”

“I didn't tell him what you told me already. Your explanation can't get much worse.”

“Okay.” Derrick continued telling Naria everything there was to know about him. From his mother's health and his career in law enforcement to his relationship with her brother. He could see she was more than amazed and she kept interjecting questions for clarity.

“This is crazy,” Naria said after she had finished questioning Derrick.

“Please, I'm asking you not to tell your brother any of this,” Derrick said. He walked over to the loveseat and sat beside Naria.

She nodded.

“I love you, Naria. It's been killing me to know I hurt you. But you gotta know it wasn't my intent.”

“I know.”

“I would never intentionally hurt you.”

Naria slowly leaned toward Derrick until their lips met. She melted, releasing all the feelings she had been holding back since they had separated. In spite of all the drama, she couldn't deny what her heart was feeling.

Derrick's lips trailed down to Naria's neck. As she moaned, he put hickies on her soft flesh, while fondling her breasts.

“Feels so good,” she whispered in between moaning. Her body was reaching a boiling point. Before she knew it, she and Derrick were almost naked.

With Naria's legs spread wide, Derrick fed his enormous length into her center. He could see her cream coating his tool as he up-stroked.

“Baby . . . Please . . . please don't stop! I . . . love you soooooo fucking much!” she panted through light sobs. “I'm yours! All yours!” she added.

Derrick looked deep into her tear-filled eyes, and felt a barbaric vibe come over him. The sight of her breasts heaving with every stroke, her juices escaping her womanhood, and the tears running freely from her eyes nearly pushed him over the edge. He pulled her legs up and placed her feet over his chiseled chest. Derrick spoke in a voice that made Naria's already dripping wet pussy, become wetter. “Baby, you feel so good, I want to put my everything into you and leave it.” Looking down at her, noticing her vulnerability and fear, he asked, “Are you ready for it?”

“Daddy, I was born ready.”

Derrick plunged his entire being into Naria's moist core.

As her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her mouth abruptly hung agape, Naria was experiencing ecstasy like she had never known. After all of their drama, makeup sex was what they both needed to confirm their love for each other. But in the back of her mind, Naria felt her allegiance to her brother required that she tell him the truth about Derrick.

*****

RJ hadn't talked to Tony since they'd left Jamaica, yet, he knew that once the boat hit the shores of the US, he'd be one of the first persons contacted. Although he'd been out of the states for a little less than a month, the streets were buzzing with his anticipated retaliation. Shay hadn't got back to him since he'd laid the offer down to him. This led RJ to believe that either Shay was afraid of Quis, Biggs, and Hakeem, or he was on their side.

RJ didn't want to resort to his animalistic tactics concerning the matter. Yet, if nothing transpired in the next few days, he would. Just the thought of lacing up his old battered Timbs and going to war filled him with a sense of despondency. It wasn't that he feared anything or anybody. However, the fact that none of his original crew members were intact bothered him. Sherm had gotten himself murdered, because he couldn't follow simple directions. Damien was probably somewhere filling the Feds in on his entire operation as he knew it, and Lil' Roy, his childhood friend, executed in front of his daughter.

The only people he had close to him were Eli and Tree. Tree had proven to be an ally to RJ. However, in the wake of impending war, if he didn't display undivided loyalty, RJ wouldn't hesitate to leave him slumped over a steering wheel with a bullet to his head.

Although his sister had fallen in love with the tall charismatic Virginia native, that wouldn't stop RJ from exacting his murderous intentions on anybody against him.

Chapter Fourteen

Derrick
had been at Naria's apartment for nearly a week, planning his next moves. Naria came and went, going about her normal routine. He had stressed the importance that nobody know of his whereabouts.

RJ had been calling her, demanding that she tell him where Tree was. Nonetheless, a woman in love would lie, steal, and cheat to protect the one who possessed the key to her heart.

Derrick's money and drugs tallied somewhere in the neighborhood of a quarter of a million dollars. Although he wanted to just take the money and run, there was an unending bond brewing between him and Naria. He also wanted to somehow make the agency he once worked for so vigilantly pay for so easily ousting him.

*****

It had been nearly a week, and RJ hadn't heard from anyone. Shay hadn't returned any of his calls, nor had Tree or Eli.

Tony had called, and the boat had landed. RJ was due to meet Ox and Oateek in two hours to receive a shipment of drugs worth nearly ten million dollars.

RJ dialed Naria's phone number one final time. He nearly hung the phone up after the first ring, remembering that his sister was at work. But someone picked up.

“Hello,” a familiar voice answered.

“Tree!” RJ yelled into the receiver.

“Yeah. What up, son?” Derrick replied casually.

“What's up with you, man?” RJ asked, full of agitation.

“Shit. I had to go to Virginia to handle some BI. Why? Wassup with you, B?”

“My sister ain't tell you I was trying to get at you?”

“Yeah, yeah, she said something to me when I got in this morning. I was just going to hit you later.”

RJ replied, “Oh, okay.”

“So is everything a'ight? You sound amped, son.”

“Uh, yeah shit's cool, but I need you to roll with me to go meet Ox and them. Can you meet me at my crib in like ten minutes?”

“How about you come scoop me up, B,” Derrick stated, and then hung the phone up. Now that he had made the choice to play the underworld, he had to school RJ on how to stay under the radar. Literally.

*****

Acting on a tip from concerned neighbors, police entered Condominium #3. Once the door was opened, the strong stench of a rotting body nearly caused both officers to vomit into their hands. They ran from the apartment with their mouths covered, coughing and gagging until they regained enough of their senses to summon the CSI Unit. One thing was evident, the body had been in the apartment long enough to decompose.

* * * * *

RJ and Derrick were traveling on Interstate 95, headed toward Jersey.

RJ's cell phone was glued to his ear as he rapped with Eli, while Derrick cringed every time their conversation became so vivid that any Grand Jury in the country would indict the pair. Once their wireless conspiracy became so illicitly clear that he couldn't take anymore, Derrick turned to RJ, and said, “Let me holler at Eli.”

RJ eyed Derrick strangely, until he noticed the scowl plastered on his face. “Hold up, yo. Tree wants to holler at you,” he said into the receiver, and then passed the phone to Derrick.

Derrick put the phone to his ear, and said, “Eli, throw your phone away.” Then without warning, he rolled the window down just enough to fit the small apparatus and let it fall to the pavement. Witnessing his phone break into pieces, RJ looked at Derrick, crazed. “What the fuck you do that for?”

Coolly, Derrick rested his head on the headrest and replied, “Son, you was talking reckless and so was he. If anybody was listening they know where we're going, whom we're going to see, and what we're going to get. TMI,” he concluded.

Allowing what Derrick said to settle in his mind, he asked, “What the fuck is TMI?”

“Too Much Information, son,” Derrick quipped.

RJ smiled. He knew that Derrick was right, and at that moment he was glad to have him on his team. “But you ain't gotta act like I'm slow or something,” RJ said.

“What?” Derrick added.

“I'm saying, son, sometimes you be acting like you the only motherfucker know some shit around here.”

“It ain't even like that, RJ.”

“I hope so.”

Derrick reflected on how RJ seemed to begin taking him as a threat. Since their debates about leaving the game, RJ had been challenging a lot of decisions, advice, and suggestions Derrick made. Derrick knew that subtle things like this were the makings of real drama that took down major crews. He was going to try his best to make sure that they never reached that point. In the back of his mind was a fresh memory of how RJ murdered Trina's cousin in cold blood. There was no doubt in Derrick's mind that RJ could do the same to him.

* * * * *

Quis and Hakeem rode through the city behind the dark tinted windows on the LS 430. The pair rode in silence until they reached their destination, a moderately decorated house. Quis pulled his cell phone out and began tapping numbers. After a brief exchange, he ended the call and folded his phone back into his pocket.

Shortly thereafter, Pauleen sashayed her sexy figure out of the house and hopped in the backseat.

“As Salaam Walakum, Pauleen,” Quis greeted.

“For real, Quis. I've been so far off my deen lately, I'd be embarrassed to Salaam you, okay?” Pauleen replied.

“Only Allah can judge you, Pauleen. Just strive to do better.”

“Insha Allah. Insha Allah,” she replied.

“Now, has that business been handled or what?” Quis asked.

Without replying, Pauleen passed a stack of pictures to Quis and then watched him and Hakeem thumb through the gruesome flicks.

“Not only did I get the job done, I managed to gather some info as well,” she stated, admiring the way the two men's faces contorted as they eyed the sadistic photographs.

“Oh yeah, and what might that be?” Quis asked.

“Seems as if he had a meeting with RJ from Grand Ave about who supposedly did Lil' Roy and whoever was responsible was about to get it,” she said, and then jokingly added, “That wouldn't be either of you, would it?”

Enjoying a hearty laugh, Quis reached in the floorboard and retrieved a freshly wrapped bundle of Benjamins. He tossed them to the strikingly beautiful, but extremely dangerous female in the backseat.

******

After stashing the drugs at an apartment that only Derrick and RJ knew of, the pair began to brainstorm the new order of operations.

“So you're saying that Eli and Lil' John should be our only distributors?” RJ asked, pushing his CL55 through the sparse interstate traffic.

“First of all, slow this bitch down! We are not in no fucking hurry! And yes, I'm saying allow Lil' John and Eli to handle all distributions. You and I can bag and cut the dope ourselves,” he explained. “Therefore, cutting out two entire levels of the operation.”

“You make that shit sound like a real fucking business, man,” RJ replied, chuckling.

In a manner that instantly halted RJ's giggling, Derrick retorted, “'Cause it is!”

RJ turned his attention from the traffic to steal a peek at Derrick's expression. RJ was met with a defiant ice grill. Although RJ couldn't put his finger on it, Derrick had become a lot more serious since they'd come from Jamaica.

“Look, B, if we do this shit right, in six months we both can be sitting on eight digits easily,” Derrick surmised, more to himself than RJ.

“That's attainable. The question is what you gonna do when you get them eight digits?” RJ asked, lightening the mood.

Derrick replied, “First of all, I want you to know that your sister and I are serious, and whatever my plans are, she is definitely a part of them.”

“Tell me something I don't know. If you wasn't serious, I wouldn't allow you to be with her.”

“Allow me?” Derrick laughed.

“That's what I said.”

Derrick noticed the seriousness in RJ's eyes. “You dead ass, huh?”

“That's my sister.”

“I hear you,” Derrick said. “That was another reminder that RJ was a danger to him. The more Derrick contemplated his relationship with RJ, the more he wondered how long it would last.

*****

Cruising down the Avenue in Derrick's newly acquired STSV Cadillac, he and RJ were headed to Brooklyn to meet Lil' John.

Over the last few weeks, Derrick's plan of allowing Lil' John and Eli to be their sole redistributes had been working.

Once the money from their first week sales poured in, the time and energy exerted in cutting and bagging the drugs were well worth it.

Reaching over to the factory sound system playing TI's
King
CD at a moderate level, RJ turned the music completely off.

“You know, sooner or later we're going to have to make a move on them niggas from the Gucci Crew,” RJ stated. “You see what they did to Shay,” he added, as if it was an afterthought.

“Yeah, I feel you, B, but right now we got to focus on getting this money in its highest degrees, and then we can take care of them cats,” Derrick replied. “Right now, it's definitely about the money.”

RJ shot Derrick a sharp glance, and then averted his attention back to the passing urban landscape of Brooklyn. It had been years since RJ had allowed anybody to dictate when and where things got done. The commanding role that Derrick had taken in the operations of things had RJ baffled. Although he'd never taken orders, the Virginia native's insight always seemed calculated and well planned. For these reasons alone, RJ went along with him.

BOOK: Flippin' the Hustle
13.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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