My Hustler’s Keeper (11 page)

“I love this pussy,” he states with his eyes still closed.

“Joe, what the fuck?!” Mary yells.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be mad. Join the party,” Joe says, grabbing me as I try to push away.

“I’m not fucking her.” I broke from his grip and slid over to the corner.

“It’s either that or get the shit beat out of you,” Joe says, standing up and pulling up his jeans.

“Joe, please. Just let me go home.”

“A’ight, suit yourself,” he says, knocking me to my feet. Causing me to black out.

Hours later I woke up inside the same room smelling like piss.

“This nigga pissed on me,” I say out loud.

“That he did,” Mary says, walking closer towards me.

“You went out with one punch,” she says, laughing.

“And I still got some pussy.” She laughs harder.

“Payback is better than pussy any day,” I tell her.

“You’re threatening me?” she asks.

“Nah, that’s a promise,” I tell her, standing up.

“Well I got a message for you to give to your big bad brother.”

“And what’s that?”

“He should have never touched what belonged to me. And since he wants to play Captain Save-A-Ho, I’ll just take what he loves that most,” she says, pulling out a .22 and pointing it to my chest.

I jumped. But then I charged at her with full speed. 

“No the hell you ain’t!” I yell, pushing her into the wall, causing her to hit her head on it.

Damn, Lord knows I should have been done this
, I think while running up the stairs and out the church.

“Help me, help me!” I begin to scream for my life.

Running down 111st I turning around to that Mary is on my heels.

“Bitch, I’ma kill you!” she yells out, while holding her head.

“Help me!” I yell, jumping into the nearest taxi.

“Where to miss?” the driver asks, starting up his engine.

“Wilmette,” I explain, in a panicked tone.

“That’s too far ma’am.”

“Here,” I say, handing him the money I took from Joe’s pants.

“Now drove this fucking car to Wilmette.”

My Hustler’s Keeper

-15-

SINCERE

“Help me, help me!” I hear someone yell out while banging on the door.

“What the fuck?” I say, reaching for the doorknob.

Springing the door open tears run down my face as I watch my little sister run into my arms.

“Sincere, you got to kill him. He…he...” She tries to get the words out but the tears are blocking her from speaking.

“Shhhhh,” I tell her, placing my fingers over her lips.

“Come inside.” I pick her up and slam the front door.

“Oh my God!” Harmony says, as she watches me lay her on the couch.

“It’s okay ma. She’ll be okay.”

“Were you ever coming for me?” Rayla asks, still crying and shaking.

“Hell fucking yeah, I was coming. I just didn’t know who had you. I was getting the run-around.”

“You took too long Sincere.”

“I know sis. I know.”

“I thought I was going to die,” she says, crying into my chest.

“It’s okay Ray. I swear after I bury Grandma I’ma make whoever took you suffer.”

That following week in the middle of September, I finally lay my grandma next to my grandfather, on their wedding anniversary. After the burial Daniel pulls me to the side, I know he has a lot on his mind. Shit we, all do.

“Bro, you ready?” he asks.

“Always, my nigga. But shit let me finish burying my first lady first,” I tell him.

“I feel you on that. But man this shit is eating me alive. We have to get Rayla to tell us who had her so we can take these niggas off the map.”

“I understand man.”

“Bro, you don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling. My fucking girl is pregnant and the thought of me not being the father hurts.”

“Don’t even think like that Daniel.”

“I try not to but I can’t,” he admits to me.

“I know it ain’t my baby. We always used protection. I told her kill the bastard but doctors say it can kill her if she has an abortion. I’m going to have to look in the eyes of the baby of the nigga who raped her and pretend to be okay. How am I going to raise another man’s child and keep my cool about the whole thing?”

“Bow your head man. Let’s say a prayer to the man upstairs. He knows what to do,” I tell him.

“
Dear God, protect this family and heal us as we try to cope with the loss of our backbone, Grandma dearest. But most importantly protect us on this journey as my right hand and I lay a couple niggas down to rest.  I know it isn’t my job to predict nigga’s lifeline. But it is my duty to protect this family of mines. And with that being said Lord, they must go. I’ll face Judgment Day when my time comes
. In Jesus’ name.”

“A-fucking-men,” Daniel says.

“Now that’s go find these pussy ass niggas,” I say, drinking the last of my grandma’s favorite drink, Seagram’s Apple Vodka, before leaving.

“Lets start with Joe’s house first. I’m sure this nigga knows something,” I tell Daniel.

** ** **

BOOM
!

Daniel kicks the front door of Joe’s home as if he is FBI himself.

“That’s how you kick a door my nigga,” I tell him, stepping inside.

Pop…pop!

Two shots fly past us, causing us to hit the floor. Looking up, getting ready to bust back, I see it is Henry doing the shooting.

“Henry, man it’s us!” I yell out.

“
Us
? Who the fuck is a us?” he asks, still busting gunshots into our direction.

“Sincere and Daniel man,” I say, standing up.

“You two niggas were about to be worm food,” he says.

“Where is Joe?” I ask.

“Shit, that why I’m here. Homie sent a couple of niggas to run up in my crib, scaring my baby mama and daughter. So you know I had to personally deliver the same message back to his ass. But I’ll catch that nigga slipping like grease. He got to come back to that shit hole of a church.”

“You better hope you catch that nigga before I do. I got some questions and I know he can answer them,” Daniel says, leaving out and going towards my Escalade.

“Look man, I got to bounce. But hit my line when you spot homie,” I tell, Henry leaving out as well.

“No doubt,” he says, making his way towards his own ride.

“Where y’all niggas going tonight? Wanna hit up a few clubs with the ladies or go out to eat? It will get our minds off this shit that’s been taking place,” he suggests.

“Hell yeah, I do,” Daniel says, getting out my ride and entering Henry’s ride.

“I don’t think Rayla will be in the mood seeing that we just buried Grandma, but it don’t hurt to ask,” Henry says.

“Count me out. I’m going home. I must take care of some things with your sister first. I have a plan, and I’m hoping it works,” I say before getting into my car and driving away. 

** ** **

“What the fuck Sincere?!” Harmony yells out at me, while throwing knives in my direction.

“You got to be fucking kidding me. You can’t be serious.”

“Yeah ma, I’m dead fucking serious,” I tell her, ducking.

“This is some bullshit.”

“I can’t do this shit anymore. I need some time to clear my head.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” she asks, still throwing shit towards me.

“I just buried my fucking grandmother, my sister is going crazy, and to top everything off the FBI is still on my back. I just need some time to breathe,” I lied.

My thoughts came to me.
I know that Mary is going to find away to get Harmony, which means Joe will be in the mix also. And I need her to follow these niggas by the thread if she has to. I already mapped out the time that I would give this nigga to live. I just need Harmony to keep her in my reach. I am done playing. She has to know something. And this not picking up and then pulling this disappearance act is the icing on the cake for me. Her and Joe are my targets and I will personally blow their candles out like I’m making a wish.

“So what are you trying to say? You think I’m setting you up?” she asks, stepping closer.

“Nah, that ain’t even going through my head right about now.”

“So you wanna break up with me but you can’t give me a legitimate reason as to why?” She has stopped throwing knives and is now standing within arm’s reach.

“I can’t give you one now Harmony. But I know me and you ain’t gon’ work out.”

“So just like that we’re done?”

“Yeah Harmony, just like that.” I watch as her body language tenses up. It’s as if her soul has just left her body, as the tears run free from her hazel eyes.

“When you get it together Sincere, promise me you’ll come back for me.” She says, as she opens the front door.

“I promise,” I reply back with no hesitation. “I love you ma but right about now, I don’t know who to trust. And I’m not saying that you’re the one to blame. But before I go and say some shit I will regret I’d rather we end it now,” I honestly tell her.

“You’re going to regret the day you made me somebody else’s keeper.”

“So what you saying?”

“I’m saying you basically gave another person your queen. You know damn well I’m going to have to marry Mary. And instead of letting me help you, you’re basically throwing me to the wolves. It’s not just about you Sincere. All this drama involves us too.” Her words come crushing down on me like a ton of bricks.

“I love you, Sincere Knight but—.”

“But what?” I ask, cutting her off.

“If going through all of this means losing me then in my heart we were never meant to be at all. You supposed to trust me and allow me to be there for you. Not throw me away like leftovers for another person to come and get. I love you and I know you’re trying to protect all of us. But this is not protecting.” Shaking her head she shuts the door, walking out my life.

“Fuck!”

I throw a framed picture of us that we had taken on her birthday last year against the wall and watch it shatter into pieces. Man, I hope like hell this plan works. Otherwise I just lost it all.

My Hustler’s Keeper

-16-

SINCERE

The hurt in her eyes, the pain in her voice is enough to make a nigga lie down and die. Watching Harmony walk out and leave is like Obama without Michelle, impossible to bear. I know what I’m doing is wrong; I could have told her what I had in mind up front. And now here it is Thanksgiving and I still haven’t got the balls to pick up the phone and call her.

Rumor has it the wedding for her and Mary is scheduled for June 25, about seven months from now. Man, this shit is getting more and more fucked up by the minute. I still haven’t seen nor heard from Joe, and Rayla still won’t tell anyone who kidnaped her.

“Sincere, you need to get out this bed and go talk to her. Better yet go get her,” Rayla says, coming into the room, interrupting my thoughts.

“Talk to her and say what Rayla?”

“I don’t know. Just get the hell up. You’ve been lying in bed looking like a lost child for the last few months. Just lying in bed and looking at the wall will not solve anything. I bet you haven’t even taken a bath with your smelly ass.”

I look at her as if she had just told me I was dying of AIDS.

“Unlike you my shit stay fresh,” I tell her laughing.

“Ha-ha, very funny punk,” she chuckles, before throwing a pillow at me.

“But for real big bro, go see her.”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin,” I admit.

“You can start by asking how’s the baby,” she suggests, taking a seat next to me.

“You know she’s carrying your bastard child. And besides, y’all been riding with one another for too long to let a chick we both know you will kill before she says ‘I do’ get her hand in marriage.”

“The moral of your story is?”

“You always say you need somebody that you can have a football team of kids and share your life with. While you had one and now your throwing her to the wolves over a plan you might not even live to achieve.”

Damn! She hit home hard.

“Bro, every hustler needs a bad girl riding ‘til the wheels fall off beside them. And when the wheels fall off, they still gon’ ride to the death of them. Are you getting what I’m saying, or do I need to give you another example as if I’m the teacher and you’re the student?”

“Nah, I feel you sis,” I laugh.

“Feel me? Nigga, do you get me?”

Before I can reply my cell phone starts to ring. Looking at the screen it reads
Judge
.

“I got to take this call,” I tell Rayla.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave then, huh?” She reaches over and kisses me on the forehead.

“If you lose her I’ma hurt you. God sent you this angel and if you fuck up God’s gift I’ma fuck you up. Every bitch you ever think about bringing to meet me, I’ll be her worst nightmare. So bad they’ll see me in their dreams like Freddie.” Mushing me in the head, she stands up and leaves.

“Spit,” I tell him.

“Come to my house. And come alone,” Judge whispers into the phone and then hangs up.

“What the fuck?!” I say out loud to myself. “It’s three o’clock in the morning. What can he what this time of day?” Grabbing my car keys and Glock from off the nightstand, I make my way out the front door towards Rayla’s car.

After meeting with Judge, I’ll stop by Harmony’s crib and try to fix this shit that’s going on with me and her
, I think as I proceed to start up the engine. 

Making my way towards the judge’s house, I begin to get that funny feeling in my stomach; the kind you get when you know something is about to go down but you try to brush it off, or when you know the vibe isn’t right, but still you act like every thing is peaches and cream. That’s the feeling I have as I make my way up the stairs and knock on the front door.

“Welcome Sincere,” Thomason says while smiling as he swings the door open and lets me inside.

“Take a seat,” he tells me, closing the door behind me.

“Nah, I’ll stand,” I say, tryna shake the pain away that is engaging my body.

“Sincere, remember when I told you I’ll call when I need you? Well I need your help like yesterday.”

“Help with what?” I ask, not feeling him one bit. But that still doesn’t stop me from listening to what he has to offer and say.

“My wife is sick and needs around the clock support. So I need—.”

“Yo, I’m not about to be your wife’s babysitter,” I say, cutting him off. “With all the money you got shit, you can hire you a live-in maid.”

“Who said anything about you babysitting? Not me. If you will let me finish, you’ll know what I need you for,” he tells me.

“A’ight, finish. ‘Cause right about now none of this shit is making sense to me. And playing mind games is not one of my favorite games,” I explain to him, while taking a seat down on the sofa.

“I need you to make a trade for me,” he explains, taking a seat across from me.

“I tried calling Daniel but all I’m getting is his voicemail. And Henry already tells me he is going out of town and will not be back until later on this week. So I figure you’ll do it since you owe me a favor anyways.”

“Look here, I don’t owe you shit. If you want me to do something out of what you did for my sister just say so. Don’t sugarcoat shit.” I speak so loud his legs are shaking as if he is about to have a seizure.

“When is the exchanged being made?” I ask, trying to keep my composure.

“The drop is schedule to go down in thirty minutes,” he answers.

Standing up, Thomason walks over to his hallway closet. Upon opening it he places two keys inside a black suitcase.

“The man you’re meeting with, his name is Sam. He’ll be wearing a black jacket with some over-alls, along with a gray Cubs hat. I want you to stay in your car until you see him knock on the door three times before entering. And the best part about this is you don’t have to worry about him having a gun. Sam ain’t never carried or fired a gun a day in his life.”

“He sells and buys coke but ain’t never held or fired a gun? Right, run that line by another nigga that don’t know no better,” I tell him with a smirk on my face.

“He trusts me, so you’re in good hands. And besides he isn’t the toughest guy in the world. That’s why I’m glad you’re doing this for me. I figure it would be better for you and me. We both ain’t got to worry about a dead body coming up missing and later found in another state,” he preaches while handing me the briefcase.

“Where do I meet him at?” I ask.

“115th and Wentworth. The same spot I always do my deals at,” he tells me as he opens the front door. “This should be a quick in and out. When you finish call me.”

“After this we’re both quote unquote even,” I explain to him, stepping out.

“After this I’ll act like you never existed,” he says, before slamming the door.

“Pastor crooked, judge crooked, FEDS crooked. Who else crooked around this motherfucker?” I say out loud to no one in particular.

Shaking my head I get back inside of Rayla’s car and drive to 115
th
with the same gut feeling shooting off inside my stomach.

** ** **

An hour and two Blunts later, there isn’t any show from Sam. Another hour passes by and still no show from homie.

“Ain’t this about a bitch?!” I yell, as I light up another Blunt. Taking out my phone, I start to call William.

“Yo, Judge it’s been damn near three hours. Where the is he at?” I yell out, as soon as I hear his voice.

“He’s coming. He’s coming,” he says, calmly into the phone.

“I rush to get here and this nigga ain’t even here. Let this be a fucking set up if you want. That wife that you claim is sick will be right next to God waiting to get into those Heaven gates.” I warn him.

“Now, Sincere you don’t need to take it that far. I told you he is coming. Give him a few more minutes and if he don’t show come back and we can do it another time.”

“Nah, you can give him this shit on your own. I’m heading your way as we speak.”

“He’s coming. Just wait. I wasn’t like that when you needed me. I listened to your pleas and cries for some work, and without a thought as to why, I gave it to you. But you can’t seem to do this one little favor for me.” His voice rises with anger.

“If it was not for me, you would have been in prison. I saved you and this is the way you repay me?”

“Yo Judge, first off don’t make it seem like you did something by fronting me that work ‘cause it was given back to you that very same week.” My voice is calm as I spoke but I am ready to jump through the phone and choke the life out of him.

“I’m not, I’m—.”

“Hold the hell up,” I cut him off.

“Matter fact it looks to me like the work in the briefcase is the same work I gave you. Second, don’t get it twisted. If it weren’t for my father you wouldn’t be breathing right now. Talking about you saved me. When and where? My dad saved you. That is why you will always owe me. And third you saved me from prison? Nigga, get your fucking facts right. You haven’t saved shit. But guess whose saving you from spending the rest of the few years you have left as a free man? My bitch, the same bitch that’s making it possible for all of us to walk these streets a free man knowing we should all be found guilty.” You would think I am a female yelling at her boyfriend from the way I am speaking into the phone.

“You’re lucky my word is my bond. Otherwise I would have been placed some shells to your dome years ago,” I tell him, before hanging up.

As I am about to start the engine up and leave that’s when I see the guy I am waiting on making his way towards the house. He’s dressed in a black jacket with some over-alls and a gray Cubs hat, just like the judge described. He makes his way up the stairs and twists the doorknob then knocks on the door three times and enters, closing it shut behind him.

I wait twenty minutes before stepping out the car and going to the house. Making sure no one is watching, I slowly make my way inside. Once inside Sam quickly places a .38 semi-automatic pistol towards my face. So much for him not being strapped, this nigga lied to me.

“Whoa! Homie, clam down. Relax your mind. I know you don’t want it to be a murder scene,” I tell him, stepping back an inch.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asks, while he waves the .38 semi-automatic pistol; around as if it is a toy he is not used to playing with.

I think back to the conversation the judge and I had.

“You ain’t got to worry about him being strapped. Nigga ain’t never held or fired a gun a day in his life.”

“He sells and buys coke, but ain’t never held or fired a gun? Right, run that line by another nigga that don’t know no better.”

“I said who are you and what are you doing here?” he yells, breaking my thoughts.

Instead of responding my left fist does a meet and greet with his face, causing him to drop the gun and stumble down o to the couch. Taking out my Glock and cocking it back, homie is on his sweet way to the kingdom of Heaven when he yells out.

“The dog is here! The dog is here!” No sooner then those words fly out his mouth the front and back door come flying open.

“Freeze motherfucker. FBI!” Someone yells out.

Pop, pop!

Two bullets ring out. One goes into my arm and the other goes into my leg, causing me to stumble and hit the ground.

** ** **

Damn, Sincere, you done fucked up big time. Yo’ ass should have followed your gut feeling. Now look at you about to be state property. You can kiss Harmony and the life she’s carrying good fucking bye. You can kiss your freedom good fucking bye. Shit, you might as well kiss the world good fucking bye.

Normally you’d follow your gut. Why out of all days today, must you play Captain Save-A-Hoe? When he said that smart shit over the phone, that’s when you should have took him his shit back and had somebody else do it. But no, you want to live up to your words.

Besides that when did you start doing drops? Nigga, you don’t do that. You drop bodies. When you stepped foot in his house and he started talking that bullshit, that’s when you should have told Judge you’d holler at him later.

Fuck, you saw the way his body expression changed from the way you came in ‘til the way you left. The way he was all shaken up just from you speaking then calm and cool when you were getting up to leave.

And I swear the night you asked him for a front ‘cause of the situation with your sister he was acting like he had a pussy instead of a dick. Tripping, saying you was dipping into his last stash. Now on top of the two keys you gave him back he throws you more keys like he didn’t just say he was running out. You should have smelled the period pussy in the air ‘cause that shit was foul the moment you stepped foot inside his house.

The moment he started running off at the mouth that’s when you should have bounced. The moment he started smiling like he had just won a date with Beyoncé, you should have known that nigga was setting you up.

Fuck, the moment he started to get all hard, as if his balls had grown overnight, when you two had that face off over the phone, that’s when you should have started the engine and drove the fuck off, took him his shit, and went to talk with Harmony. That’s where you should be right about now.