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Authors: Erick S. Gray

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BOOK: It's Like Candy
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Willie smiled. He took the duffle bag and surveyed its contents quickly. “Eight pounds and four keys, it's always good doin' business wit' you, buddy,” Willie said as he passed Eric the cash in return. “You're my number-one guy, E,” Willie added.

Something in Willie's tone of voice made Eric nervous. Eric held Willie's gaze and knew something with this deal wasn't right.

Then suddenly there was a loud shattering sound and the doors to the room came crashing in and Eric heard the frightful sound of someone shouting, “Get down on the ground now! DEA! Get down! Get down! DEA!”

A dozen agents raided the place with their guns gripped tightly in their hands. Eric's heart dropped, and panic showed on his face. He had nowhere to run as he gawked at the agents charging on him with their guns trained at him.

Willie looked at Eric with a sad expression, and said, “I'm sorry, E . . . they had me in a tight squeeze.”

Eric was then forced to the ground and handcuffed. He knew his life was over. He bowed his head and felt he'd failed his uncle, River, and himself. He'd managed to escape prison all his life, but now, being caught with the amount of drugs he had on him, Eric knew it would carry a sentence of up to twenty-five years in prison.

He went off with the agents peacefully.

A few hours later, Eric sat in a bare room, handcuffed to the chair and waiting patiently to be interrogated. He held back his tears and
tried to keep his composure. He thought about a few lawyers he could call. He needed a really good lawyer. He couldn't believe Willie had snitched him out. They'd been in business with each other for a little over a year, and just like that, it was over.

Two DEA agents entered the room, and surprisingly, two FBI agents followed in right behind them with their IDs showing.

Ohmygod,
Eric thought to himself.

One agent came over and uncuffed him from the chair. Eric massaged his wrist as he peered at the agent.

“I'm DEA Agent Merchant, and this is Agent Morris. To be blunt, you're fucked, Eric,” Agent Merchant stated. He was a tall black man with dark hair who was clad in a flight jacket.

Eric stared at the two FBI agents across from him who had their IDs clipped to their dark suits and wore polished wing-tip shoes.

“The four keys alone are enough to put you in jail for life,” Agent Morris stated. He was tall, too, with a bald head and a thick goatee.

“What y'all want from me?” Eric asked. “I know it's something, because we both know I wouldn't be wasting my time sitting in this room with four agents.”

“You're a smart man, I assume,” Agent Morris remarked. “We can help you.”

“Listen, I'm not the one to dance around, but as you can see, the feds are involved in this too,” Agent Merchant said. “Now, this can work out two ways for you. You can become very useful to us and tell us what we need to know, or you can sit there, be an asshole, and go to jail for a very long time. You have a choice.”

“Why are the feds involved?” Eric asked.

“Listen, we ask the questions for now, not you,” Agent Merchant sternly replied.

“Eric, it's not you we're after, you're just the poor sap in the middle of it all. We want your cousin Russell. Now, since he's been home, all hell done broke loose. Seven years ago, your cousin should
have done life in prison, but unfortunately that didn't happen for us, and he's now a free man again, and trying to regain what he once lost,” Agent Morris informed Eric. “We know he linked back up with his old crew, and we know about the war with a rival named Rome. These are dangerous men on the streets, and with your cooperation, you can help get them off the streets and in jail where they belong.”

“This is my cousin we're talking about,” Eric replied. “My family has never snitched on anyone.”

“Are you ready to do heavy time for your family, huh, Eric?” Agent Merchant asked.

Eric remained silent, staring at Agent Merchant.

“Your family has a notorious history,” Agent Morris chimed in. “Your father was Yung Black, and your uncle was once part of the Gorilla Black family. Damn! From generation to generation, it continues. You can put a stop to it. We're giving you a chance here, all you got to do is work with us and you can have your life back.”

“Work with us and we promise you full immunity,” Agent Merchant assured.

Eric let out a slight chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. He was definitely set up. “Y'all are a piece of work. I was set up. Y'all have been watching me the entire time. Let me guess, you knew I was in business with Willie. Y'all bust him, get him to talk and have him fabricate some phony deal with me, and I fall for it, knowing it wasn't Willie's style to fuck wit' the keys. But I'm stupid enough to get caught up in it. I should have seen it coming. I'm your only link to my cousin, and this is the only way to have me snitch out on him . . . by having this heavy charge over my head. I feel pressure by the number of years I'm facing and suddenly take the easy way out,” Eric said.

“See, I told you he was a smart man,” Agent Morris stated. Agent Merchant walked over to Eric, leaned in near him with his hands against the table, and said, “I really hope you're a smart man, because there's no other way out for you.”

Eric sighed, looking pressured. No one in his family had ever snitched or taken the easy way out, and he was reluctant to do so.

But the agents kept pressuring him and pressuring him, scaring him with large sentences and life.

They got desperate, because they wanted Yung Slim with a hardon, and even promised to put Eric in the witness protection program.

Agent Morris looked at Eric, and said, “Look, I know this man is your cousin, but he's not worth going to prison for. I look in your eyes Eric, and I see a nice guy . . . too nice of a guy to go to prison for a very long time. And I assume you know what they do with nice guys like you in prison, Eric.”

“Tell us about your uncle,” Agent Merchant said.

“What?”

“You really care for him, right?” Agent Merchant continued. “Where we goin' wit' this?” Eric asked.

Agent Merchant nodded over to Morris and Morris dropped two glossy photos on the table in front of Eric. “I just received those from the NYPD a few hours ago. You know him?”

Eric stared in shock at the two photos of his dead uncle.

“He was shot twice in his chest not too long ago,” Agent Morris informed him. “I had a friend in the department quickly develop them so you can see the truth about your family. Your cousin is responsible for that, Eric . . . and this is family to him, so you see how he does family.”

“Yo, that's fucked up,” Eric cried out, saddened by his uncle's murder. He then thought about River and feared for her safety.

“Was he alone?” Eric then asked.

“We have one witness who says they saw a group of young men carrying a woman out the door,” Agent Morris mentioned.

Eric knew it had to be River.

“Work with us, Eric, that's all you have to do. . . . Work with us and we can make everything okay for you,” Agent Merchant assured him.

Eric stared at the photos of his uncle once again and said to himself,
Enough is enough
. . .
this shit has got to stop. Fuck family.

Eric nodded toward the DEA agents, giving them his full cooperation. They both smiled. But he wasn't in the clear yet. The feds stepped up, and they dropped another picture in front of Eric, and asked, “Do you know this man?”

Panic and fear engulfed Eric quickly as he stared at a picture of the Snowman.

“We've been investigating him for several years now and, unfortunately, we haven't been able to get a man in close enough to bring him down,” one of the federal agents informed Eric. He was slim, curly-haired, and clean-shaven, with green eyes. “He goes by the name Snowman, and he's a major cocaine and heroin distributor in the northeastern seaboard. Does he supply you your drugs?”

Eric was hesitant to answer the question. He peered over at Agent Merchant, who simply shrugged, and said, “They want everything. You deal with us and you deal with them.”

Eric felt himself getting pushed into a tight squeeze, and he remembered Snowman's dreadful words to him, “You get caught, keep my fuckin' name out your mouth.”

Eric felt his heart pounding rapidly. He knew snitching out the Snowman wasn't just death alone, it was dismemberment and torture, and Eric knew not to take the Snowman's threat lightly.

“We need viable information on him and an inside man,” the federal agent continued.

Eric contemplated the offer. River was heavy on his mind, and he loved her. He needed to get to her and her sister, and he knew that couldn't happen if he was locked away in a jail cell. For love, it was worth the risk. He agreed to work with the feds and the DEA, and became a snitch.

After signing papers and becoming an informant for the law enforcement, Eric was allowed to leave after spending several grueling,
long hours in a downtown precinct. His nerves were shaky, but he felt he'd done what he had to do. He had a plan, though.

As Eric walked away from the building, and got a few blocks away a black Ford Taurus came to a sudden halt in front of him and out stepped Big Red/Officer Gibson. He sternly grabbed Eric by his shirt; twisting his arm and slamming him facedown on the hot hood of the Taurus.

“Where you goin', muthafucka?” Red shouted, pressing Eric's face against the hood.

“Aaaaaahhh, what the fuck y'all want from me?” Eric shouted. “Your cousin a fuckin' cop killer!” Red exclaimed.

“I ain't got shit to do wit that—fuck you and my cousin,” Eric harshly countered.

“What, niggah!”

“Fuck you!”

“I should have put a bullet in your ass a long time ago,” Red shouted.

Suddenly his voice seemed familiar to Eric. He didn't have on the mask this time, and was without his partner. But Eric knew it was him.

“You're a cop?” Eric questioned. “Oh, shit!”

“Where is she?” Red asked.

“I don't fuckin' know. What do you want wit' her anyway?” Red spun Eric around facing him. “I want that bitch.”

“Fuck you!” Eric chided. “She's better off without your trifling ass. I hope she rats your crooked ass out, you fuckin' pig. You steal from me and think you can get away wit' it.”

Red slammed Eric against the car again violently, and said, “Listen here, niggah, I'm the law, you fuckin' hear me? I take what I want. And you or that bitch ain't gonna stop me from gettin' mines.”

“Yeah, whatever, niggah . . . I find River—and believe me, I will—I'm bringing your crooked ass down, and have the DA bring a case against you to the grand jury. You don't deserve that badge. You're a criminal, just like us.”

“Fuck you! I find her, and your little girlfriend is dead and then you're fuckin' next! Don't fuck wit' me, niggah, I'm a cop, but you already know what I'm about!” Red exclaimed.

Red loosened his grip around Eric and stepped back. Eric smirked at the officer. He knew that Officer Gibson couldn't do any harm to him near the precinct building. And he also knew Red was looking for River, because she knew everything about him—she had too much dirt on his underground lifestyle, and her loose lips could sink his ship and put Red in jail for a very long time.

“See you around, Officer,” Eric mocked as he slowly stepped away.

“Yeah, I'll definitely see you around!” Red remarked, shaking his head, knowing what had transpired with Eric and the feds in the building. “You'll get yours—fuckin' snitch!”

30

Who's the bitch?”
.
Snowman asked Yung Slim as he approached with River.

“Collateral,” Yung Slim replied.

“She's cute,” Snowman stated.

Critter was not too far behind.

“I need you to clean this up for me,” Yung Slim said.

“It's already done,” Snowman replied.

Two men walked up to the parked Denali and got in, driving away in the truck. They had to burn it and get rid of any evidence and fingerprints.

“I talked to a few friends of mines down at One Police Plaza, so far the police don't have anything on you,” Snowman informed them. “From now on, you need to keep a low profile, and stay the fuck away from Rome and his bitches.” Snowman then drew on a cigar as he stared at Yung Slim.

Yung Slim laughed, and replied, “My hands are clean, Snowman.” He threw up his arms in a joking manner. “I just might take the dogs for a walk, that's all, and maybe do a little spring cleaning—right, Critter?”

“Right, Slim,” Critter responded, knowing what Yung Slim meant by that.

Everything was set. Yung Slim had made the call right after he'd spoken to Karen.


“Bitch, why you so late
bringing me this muthafuckin' money? You know I gotta check in with Reality soon,” Cash chided, scolding one of Rome's hoes about bringing in her earnings an hour late.

“I'm sorry, Cash, but this one trick was taking forever to come.” Pepper replied. She was glued to the passenger seat and only spoke when she was spoken to.

“Bitch, you know the fuckin' rules, each trick only gets twenty minutes wit' you. If they don't come, you fuckin' leave, unless they're paying you extra to stay. Pepper, don't let this shit happen again,” Cash threatened as he glared at her.

Pepper nodded meekly.

Cash was a ride-or-die soldier and had been in Rome's camp since the beginning. He sat parked in his burgundy Benz and counted money on the corner of 150th Street and 107th Avenue.

Pepper remained seated in her short denim skirt and was quiet as a mouse while Cash counted her share for the night. Rome let out a few girls to work the track, thinking it was safe for them to work and get that money. Rome had Cash and N.O. working security on the tracks and so far the night was going smoothly for everyone.

BOOK: It's Like Candy
11.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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