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Authors: Ace Gucciano

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Urban, #Genre Fiction

Money & Love Don't Mix (2 page)

BOOK: Money & Love Don't Mix
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“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, do ya thang, dawg. Shit, I wish I had it in me to get up and do that shit sometimes cause this weed shit be up and down, and I can’t ever get ahead like I want to.” Smoke stressed while grabbing a pack of Newport’s from his pocket and firing one up.

“Naw, I ain’t sayin’ something was wrong with him gettin’ a gig, Smoke. I’m just surprised to hear him, of all people, say he’s tryna get one.” Dre uttered.

Trouble was putting his new clothes on hangers and hangin’ them in the closet but stopped to turn back to his friend.

              “Shit; we’re only young for so long, ya feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you homie, I feel you! Say no mo’!” Dre replied.

              “Yeah, you said a mouth full, playboy… I ain’t mad at ya’, do yo thang! At least that way one nigga out our circle will be legit.” Said Slick.

              That night, once Maniac showed up, they headed down to Diamond Lounge Strip Club. As soon as they made it inside, Slick got a VIP section and ordered five bottles of Rosé, two cans of pineapple-orange juice, and a hundred piece lemon pepper wing platter.

              “Any chick in here you want to dance fo’ you, point ‘em out or call ‘em over here and I got you…matter fact, here.” He reached into his pocket, grabbed a stack of ones and gave it to him. “Turn up on these muthafuckas, playboy. Let ‘em know you in this bitch!” He said as he took a sip from his bottle of Rosé.

              Smoke had two chicks dancing for him and Dre had three, but as they looked towards Maniac, Slick recognized a look of disgust.

              “You a’ight, playboy?”

              “I’m a’ight, I was just in deep thought. I’m gettin’ tired of robbin’ muthafuckas and livin; lick to lick still stuck in the hood. All da money I have seen, I’m supposed to be on my feet and have big shit poppin’ by now.”

              “I’ve been tellin’ you that fo’ da longest, playboy…But, I’ll tell you what I’ma do. If y’all boys wanna get down, I’ll show y’all boys how to make some real money so y’all can sit on yo ass all day and still get paid.” He saw the facial expression on Maniac’s face change instantly. “But, I’m only gonna do it once so y’all betta pay attention and take in as much as you can, cause I promise ya, I ain’t doin' that shit again. This game to be sold, not told!” Slick stated to Maniac and Trouble.

              Maniac’s demeanor changed the moment Slick began to talk, feelin’ he had a new hustle and didn’t have to live from one robbery to the next.

              “A’ight, Bet!” When y’all gonna be ready to give us the game, cuzzo?” Maniac eagerly inquired.

              “Class starts first thang Monday morning over my crib at 9:00am, don’t be late!”

              “Slick, I ain’t gonna be able to make it, sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime but I’m going to find me a job Monday. I can’t come back to--,”

              Maniac started hitting him on the arm, interrupting him, “Look, Look!”

              A thick 5’9, caramel toned female was making her way over to where they were. She had a pair of voluptuous breast and was thick in all the right places.

              “Shawty been eyeing you for a minute, cuzzo, she on her way over here. Remember what we told you, dese brawds aggressive.”

              “Hey, what’s up? My name Cierra and I’m the baddest bitch in here!” She came with a bold approach and then began dancing for him without seeing if he even wanted one.

              He looked her from head to toe, observing her flawless body for a moment, before pouring himself a shot of Ciroc. He downed it with a cocky, arrogant attitude as if he didn’t even notice her. His reaction was unusual and nothing like she was used to, normally guys would flock to her but the nonchalant attitude broke her down.

              “Well, damn, no response!? I’m sorry bae, but I recognized something different so I tried to get you before da’ next bitch got a chance to. I’m just bein’ honest!” He chuckled at her outburst as he took another shot.

              “First of all, I ain’t ya bae! Second, if you knew who I was and the type of nigga I am, you wouldn’t even come at me the way you did. But I respect you fo’ that now that I know you’re crazy.”

              “Mmm, well you must have a helluva a rep out here if a bitch can't even approach you…who are you supposed to be anyway; am I even able to ask?”

              “You can ask whatever, but if I tell you,

I’d have to kill you.”

              They continued challenging one another back and forth the rest of the time they both were there. Before the night was over, Trouble had her in his room and was eight inches deep between her thighs.

 

Chapter 2

Monday morning, Trouble woke up around 5:30, the time of his prison’s wake up call, and his body was adjusted to getting out of bed at that time every day. He got up, did a routine work out of 500 push-ups and crunches before taking a shower. While in the shower, he began thinking of places he could go in search of employment, but suddenly he had the idea of catching the Fox News at 6:00am to see if they’d air anything.

              After watching for a few moments, he heard the Unites Parcel Service was having a job fair tomorrow for anyone who would love to load and unload trucks, no experience needed. He quickly got up, grabbed a pen and sheet of paper and continued listening to the reporter as they spoke more about the job.

“Anyone interested stop by the United Parcel Service on Pleasantdale Road in Doraville, Georgia, tomorrow between the hours of 9:00am to 11:00am.”

Once he finished writing all of the info, he thought to himself,
Shit, working at UPS loading and unloading ain’t all that bad when I think about it, shid!! Plus, I ain’t gotta worry ‘bout being embarrassed cause nobody will see me workin’…yeah, that’s the move! I’ma get Slick to take me on up there first thing tomorrow morning. As a matter of fact, let me call his ass and see what he got going on this morning.

He got the phone and began to dial his number, but before he could finish, the news caught his attention.

“Last night in College Park, officials made an arrest at this residence in which they believe this suspect, known as Mr. Sean Bradley, had been charged with numerous counts of theft by deception, financial ID, fraud, and tax fraud. He is being held in Clayton County Jail without bail where he’ll remain until his court date. We’ll have more details on this case tonight at 6:00 pm as the case develops.”

Trouble couldn’t believe what he heard and said to himself,
Damn, I was just wit this nigga the other night. They finally freed a nigga after all these years and now the only nigga in my circle that got something going on gets locked up. Goddamn, I ain’t even been home a week yet…What the fuck!
His mother came storming in his room with a dramatic approach.

“I just your friend on the news, and he’s facing some very serious charges.”

“I know, I saw it, too, ma.”

“Oh really?  Well, I’m letting you know now if you get in some shit, you on your own!  I ain’t got no more tears for a nigga that don’t wanna be free.”

“You trippin’, ma.  I mean you ain’t even give me a chance but steady drawing ya’ own conclusions. What’s up with that!?”

“What’s up with that! I’ll tell you what ain’t up  and that’s yo’ black ass coming home, getting back up with the same niggas you got locked up with ten years ago the same day you were released.  I hadn’t even spent a full twenty four hours in your presence yet, but you back in the streets with them niggas. Fool, they don’t love you, I do!”

“Ma, I feel everything that you’re saying, but how do you think I feel ‘bout going back to jail.  I ain’t trying to be in a place where someone gotta tell me when to eat, sleep, and piss ever again.”

“Okay son, now I don’t wanna see you out there selling drugs like Smoke and Dre. Their parents may not give a shit, but you’re my only son.  I couldn’t stand to come visit you when I knew I had to leave you at that place once the visit was over.” She began to cry and he quickly grabbed her wrapping his arms around her.

“Aww, mom, stop crying everything is gonna be a’ight, I promise!  I’m done with the streets.  I was done once I got arrested ten years ago, only a fool makes the same mistake twice and I’m far from that.  That’s why I’m using my greatest asset to find me a job, determination.  So tomorrow, I’m going to this job fair UPS is having first thing in the morning.”

“Oh really?” she happily inquired.

“Yeah, ma; I saw it on the news right before they started talking about Slick.”

“Okay then son, that’s a start you need me to take you?”

“Uhh—as a matter of fact, I do need you since Slick won’t be able to.”

“Alright great, make sure you--” She quit talking as they both looked out the window to see who was knocking on their front door. As she noticed Maniac, Dre, and Smoke, she said, “Now, don’t forget what we discussed, only a fool makes the same mistake twice!  At times, being associated with your friends can cause you to become your own worst enemy by allowing them to easily influence you.” He smiled making its exit from his room, but before he went downstairs to open the door he turn back to his mother.

“I feel you, ma, but you, as well as my dad, and everybody else know me as a dedicated leader not a follower. That’s how I ended up with the most time, remember?”

“Ugh, so I guess that’s what made you a leader huh?”

He couldn’t reply, he just ignored her, made his way downstairs and opened the door.

“What it do, homeboy?” Dre greeted.

“Yeah, what you got going on this morning, cuzzo?” Maniac said while Smoke, who was on the phone, threw up his deuces.

“Shit, I ain’t really got nothin’ going on right now.. why y’all boys up so early, it ain’t even 9:00 am yet?”

“We ‘bout to get up wit Slick, you know he said classes start today if we wanted to learn da game remember? Shitt, I wasn’t able to sleep last night from thinkin’ about this shit.” Maniac replied.

“Me either, dawg!” Smoke said as he hung up the phone. “Yeah, we ‘bout to turn up out here on these niggas,” said Dre.

At that point, Trouble knew none of them had caught the morning news, so he shut the front door and spoke up.

‘Let’s walk over to the basketball court, I need to holla at y’all boys.”

As they began walking, Smoke said, “What’s up, what you gotta holla at us ‘bout, dawg?”

Trouble figured it was gonna be worse than telling a kid he failed on the last day of school once he let them know what was up. So, he stopped walking, looked each one of them in the eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Damn…I hate to be the one to break the news to y’all but Slick got locked up last night. The police raided his shit.”

“What the fuck?! Can’t win for losing out dis muthafucka cu
z
!”

“Bruh, you sho’ that was him?!” Dre asked.

“Come on, my nigga. I know what bruh look like, I ain’t been gone that long,” Trouble replied.

“Since you seen that shit on the news this morning, I should be able to pull it up on their website. What station that shit was on, dawg?”

“Fox 5, my nigga.” The moment her answered, Smoke immediately went to the Fox 5 news and weather application on his phone. He kept scrolling down until he noticed the headline for Slick, then pressed play on the attached video. The four of them silently watched and listened as the news reporter spoke.

“Last night in College Park, officials made an arrest at this residence in which they believe this suspect, known as Mr. Sean Bradley, had been charged with numerous counts of theft by deception, financial ID, fraud, and tax fraud. He is being held in Clayton County Jail without bail where he’ll remain until his court date. We’ll have more details tonight at 6:00 pm as the case develops.” Once the recording ended, Maniac frowned, shaking his head and snapped.

“Fuck we gone do now? Bruh was our only come up, our only way out, something gotta give, something gotta give now!”

“We need to go holla at ‘em and make sho’ he a’ight in there,” said Smoke.

“Hell yeah! Cause I know he ain’t gone like bein round all dem niggas,” Dre stated.

“Wells shit, y’all boys wanna gone up there now while it’s still early?” Trouble asked. They all agreed to head on up to the jail to visit Slick, but Maniac, who didn’t wanna be bothered, went another direction saying he’d catch back up with them a little later.

Trouble, Dre and Smoke caught the Clayton County Transit up to the jail to visit Slick. On the other end, Maniac had just approached his townhouse, four buildings away from Trouble’s place. He peeped two Hispanic men getting out a Nissan Altima and head inside with two duffle bags. The house they went into was directly across from where he lived, so he hurried inside to get by his window so he could wait for them to come out. An hour passed and neither of them had come out.
Them bags looked kinda heavy, them muthafuckas had to have a lotta money, or a lotta dope in ‘em…Yeah, y’all muthafuckas done fucked up lettin’ a nigga like me peep anythin' bad as I need to come up,
Maniac thought to himself.

Maniac knew for a fact this was gonna be their come up, but everything was gonna have to be done smooth and quick as possible. There could be no mistakes or fuck-ups because of it being so close to where he laid his head.

$ $ $ $ $ $ $

              The moment Slick took a seat at the visitation booth and grabbed the receiver, Trouble spoke.

              “Bruh, you know you made the news, don’t you?”

              “Yeah, them niggas in the room told me when I first came in.”

              “So, when they gonna take you to court, do you can get you a bond, dawg? Cause this shit ain’t you,” Smoke asked.

              I don’t know, playboy but I’ma need a lawyer cause I got sixty-four counts of theft by deception, sixty-four counts of financial ID fraud, and sixty-four counts of tax fraud. Plus, they told me all of my bank accounts have been frozen, so I’ma need y’all boys to put some money together and get me a good lawyer ASAP!”

              “I got ‘bout six hundred dollars and a half ounce of kush to my name Slick,” Smoke stated.

              “Shit, you got more than me. I ain’t got but three hundred to mine since I re’ed up last night,” said Dre.

              “Shit, I know you ain’t got nothin', Trouble, yo’ ass just got out…So, what y’all boys gonna do? Let me know something, Don’t leave me—,” Before Slick could finish expressing himself, his time ran out which caused the receiver to lose its connection. So, he hung up and headed back to his dorm.

              Once the bus arrived, they all got on and took a seat.

              “Damn, I miss my dawg! Shit don’t even seem the same without ‘em.”

              “Fo’ real, we gotta get ‘em up outta there before they try and give him time. At least if he got out on bond he can keep putting his court dates off until the case get old and they end up comin’ with a good plea or some probation.” Dre stated.

              “Yeah, that shit sound good, Dre, but in reality when yo’ door get kicked in on that type of charge, nine times outta ten they got somethin’ on you. Y’all talking bout getting em out, well, first of all we’re gonna have to get a paid lawyer to file a bond hearing fo’ him. That’s money we ain’t got and second, to pay da’ bond…Bruh, just gonna have to sit tight and see what happens when he goes to court.” Trouble expressed, but noticed how Smoke and Dre looked at him confused once he was done. “Why da’ hell y’all lookin’ at me crazy, y’all must got another way to come up wit some money!?” The rest of the ride back to Lexington Square, they all remained quiet, contemplating on how they could help free Slick.

$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $

Meanwhile, back in  Lexington Square, four hours later the two Hispanic guys finally made their way back out to the Nissan Altima. One of them nodded his head saying ‘What’s up’ to Maniac, who was sitting on his porch smoking a blunt of kush while the other guy said, ‘What’s up, Ese?!’

“Aye, what’s up Migo?” He replied, but in his mind he said,
Fuck y’all speaking to me fo’. Soon as I catch y’all muthafuckas slippin’, I’mma lay y’all ass down.

BOOK: Money & Love Don't Mix
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