Prince of the City (25 page)

“I ain't talking about the gun.”

“What you mean?” Malik asked, looking confused.

“Back there. Thanks for saving my life. Man, if you didn't come behind me, that nigga DonDon woulda got out his strap.”

“Don't thank me for shit like that, nigga. You're my best friend. Real niggas do real thangs. If it was me you woulda done the same thing.”

Rico didn't respond. He was just grateful for having a friend like Malik. Malik was the brother that Rico always wanted, and he couldn't live in this game without him.

 

Chapter 32

-DIVIDE AND CONQUER-

 

 

lack Sam called Kojack out to his mansion in Fort Washington, Maryland for a meeting as soon as he and Chevece were back in town. Sam poured himself a drink while Kojack lay back into the soft leather sofa in Black Sam's conference room.

“Did you find out who this young kid is going around killin' niggas and takin' over strips?”

“Yeah, Sam. Come to find out it's not just one, but two of them. They're partners. One's named Rico and the other is Malik. Now, from what I hear, Malik is the one who's supposed to be the boss. He makes all the moves while the other one puts in the work.”

“Yeah. Well, that's a plus for us.”

“Why you say that?”

“'Cause, we can use the old divide and conquer move. All we gotta do is pump up this guy Rico to make him think his man ain't playin' fair with him.”

“Oh, I see. Then we get them to beef with each other while we sit and watch 'em kill each other, and we make money off both of 'em.”

“Now you get the picture.”

“But how we gonna get 'em down with the team?”

“Easy. They gonna come looking for you. Believe me. I've been in this game long enough to know what the next nigga's move is gonna be. If they wanna keep making money, they gonna want a good connect, and from what I know, we the only niggas who got it the way they want it.”

“Tell you what I'm a do, Sam. I'm a throw a small party at Bryan Manor and wait for them to come and try to cut into me.”

“After you meet them, start giving them shit. Then drop the number, and after a few months, tell them that I wanna meet them.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Whatever you do, make them feel real comfortable.”

“Yeah, I got you. I'm a get ‘em some pussy, free drinks, and all the good shit that makes a nigga feel like he's on top.”

Sam laughed at his partner and only friend.

“A thought just hit me. You ever hear anything about that broad, Linda?” Kojack asked.

“Last thing I heard was that no-good, scheming bitch was locked up on some murders or something.”

“Damn! That bitch be killin' like that?”

“Jack, you'd be surprised at what that bitch is capable of doing. She's a master of deception. Why you ask about her anyway?”

“Nothin'. I just saw a bitch that looked like her in a swimsuit magazine. She was looking good as shit too.”

“Well, it might be her conniving ass. She probably fucked the photographer for a shot.”

Kojack laughed. “Nah, it wasn't her. She just favored her. But I always did wanna fuck her pretty ass, though.”

“No you don't, 'Jack. That bitch is the devil. I'm telling you.”

* * * * * * *

Six months later . . .

 

Malik and Rico counted the profits for the remaining bricks, and then they counted every piece of money they had left in the streets.

“This is one million. Now you can pull out the champagne,” Malik told Rico.

“Nigga, you ain't said nothing.” Rico pulled out a chilled bottle of Cristal while Malik rolled some blunts. “Nigga, put on some music.”

Malik turned on the CD player and Tupac and Scarface's “Smile for Me” came blaring from the speakers, enhancing their mood to celebrate their first million dollars.

“Nigga, this is a toast to our success,” Malik said.

“Yes, our success,” Rico responded. “We built this shit together like we said we were gonna do.”

“Smile for me, Rico.”

“Smile for me, Malik.”

They toasted and fired up blunts while dancing and bobbing their heads to the lyrics.

“Nigga, we rich,” Rico said.

“Not yet, Rico. Not yet. But we're on our way, and when we get there, we'll know it, 'cause we ain't gonna have to do this shit no more.”

“Nah, ain't no such thing as quitting. You could never have enough money. It takes money to generate money. Once your money stops generating, it starts deteriorating, and I definitely don't want that.”

“Whatever, Rico. Drink your champagne and enjoy the rush of having a million.”

After Malik and Rico celebrated, Malik went out onto the balcony and began to think about his future. He knew there was something more that life had to offer, but he didn't yet know what it was. He wondered what his father felt like when he made his first million. He wondered how his life was going to end. If he could just sit back and focus, he knew there was a way out the game other than jail or death.

Malik needed a voice. He needed his mother's opinion. He needed his father's guidance, and most of all, he needed the woman who raised him from a boy to a man. Malik missed Linda. She was his only advisor, the only one whose judgment he held deep in his heart.

As Malik looked out into the Jungle, Rico, who made it a habit, crept up behind his friend and whispered in his ear. “Hey, Mr. Spooky Man, who are you out here talking to?”

“Nobody. You know I just be out here chilling, thinking, and putting shit in order.”

“Yeah, whatever. I think you be out here talking to a ghost or something.”

Malik laughed. “Man, you stupid.”

“Yeah, whatever. But anyway, guess what, homie?”

“What's up?” Malik asked.

“The nigga Kojack is having a party tonight at Bryan Manor. You tryna go or what?”

“Fuck yeah! We might be able to cut into him at that joint.”

“Yeah, that's the move, 'cause everybody in Southeast gonna be there. But we're the only ones getting that real money. For real, Malik, the nigga probably wanna talk to us more than we wanna talk to him.”

“Yeah, you right. Look, I'm a go home and change, and you can meet me back over here tonight.”

“A'ight. I'm a get the Range cleaned up and put on something fly.”

“Do that, and call me when you're ready to go.”

“A'ight nigga, but in the meantime, don't jump off the balcony.”

 

Chapter 33

-LETS DO IT-

 

 

alik looked in his closet at his huge wardrobe, trying to figure out what to wear to Kojack's party. He pulled out a pair of tan slacks with a Gucci print shirt and matching Gucci print shoes. He laid his outfit on the bed to take a second look without noticing Peaches standing in the doorway of their bedroom with her arms folded.

“I guess you ain't gonna be home tonight, huh?” she asked.

“What's up, Peaches?”

“Don't ‘what's up, Peaches' me. I asked you a question.”

“To answer your question, Ms. Nosey, I got a business meeting to attend.”

“A business meeting at night with a five-thousand-dollar outfit and a hundred-thousand-dollar's worth of jewelry? I guess this must be a hell of a meeting, huh, Malik?”

“Why the fuck you keep naggin' a nigga? What do you want, huh? You got a nice house, nice car, and nice clothes. I put a ring on your finger worth eighty thousand. Bitch, what the fuck do you want from me, huh?”

Peaches reared her head back in shock, she couldn't believe how harsh Malik could be. “Malik, you've changed. You're not the same. Ever since I told you I was pregnant, you act like you don't wanna be bothered with me. What do I have to do? I love you. Can't you see that?”

“I love your ass too. Probably too much. Boo, you've done what you're supposed to do. You're the perfect woman for me, and I know one day you'll be the perfect wife and mother. Now, you always talking 'bout me going out, and you don't even understand the reason a nigga spending all his time in the streets is because I'm trying to build up a bank, so we can step the fuck off like we planned. You think I put that ring on your finger for fun, huh? When I asked you to marry me, I meant it. Now stop complaining and follow my lead. Okay?”

Peaches fell into Malik's trap. He knew whenever he mentioned marriage and their child, Peaches would calm down and fall in place.

“Okay, baby. But I just be worried about you. I ain't trippin' off them other bitches out there 'cause I know can't none of 'em fuck with me. I'm the one you come home to every night. Well, at least almost every night. But the fact of the matter is that I own a nail salon and I hear shit. Bitches gossip, and whenever I hear one of them bitches come in there talking 'bout this nigga got killed and this bitch is fucking this bitch's husband, all I do is think of you.”

“As long as my name doesn't come up in those conversations, you ain't got nothing to worry about.”

“Your name has come up before.”

“Oh yeah? What did you hear then?” he asked.

“Something you don't wanna know.”

“What? Who am I supposed to be fuckin' now?”

“It ain't who you're fucking. It's who you killed,” she said with her arms folded while leaning against the wall.

“What! You heard somebody mention my name in a murder or something?”

“Relax. It ain't nothing you haven't heard before, 'cause everybody talking 'bout it. It's all over D.C. Muthafuckas respect you out here, and you know the streets be speculating.”

“What did you hear?”

“Well, put it like this. I heard something 'bout a guy, a girl, and a kid, which I know you didn't do, 'cause my boo can't be that ruthless. Hell no, not my boo. You wouldn't do no shit like that. So when I hear it, I make sure I straighten that shit out real quick.”

“Good, 'cause muthafuckas out here will say anything just for conversation. Boo, you know I ain't never in my life killed nobody. I mean nobody.”

“I believe you, but even if you did, it still wouldn't change nothing with me. I love you the same.”

“Well, in that case, I guess we can do a little something before I go out. That way I might come home a little earlier so we can finish up where we leave off.”

Peaches smiled and untied her robe, revealing her perfect figure.

After Peaches and Malik made love, Malik took a shower and got dressed. He then called Rico to let him know to meet up.

“What's up, fat boy? You ready?” Malik asked.

“Give me 'bout a half hour.”

“Damn, Rico! What were you doing all this time?”

“Nigga, I had to smash Tasha off some dick. She was trippin' 'bout a nigga going out.”

Malik laughed. “Yeah, I had to do the same thing.”

“So meet me at the stash spot in about a half hour.”

“A'ight. I gotta get Peaches to do my hair anyway.”

“Cool. Nigga, what you wearing?”

“Just put it like this, nigga. I'ma be the flyest thing walking 'round that joint. Niggas gonna think I'm the one giving the party.”

“Yeah, whatever nigga.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Nigga, I got an Iceberg sweat suit from Atlantic City. Don't nobody got this joint.”

“Man, don't put on no sweat suit. Wear something slick. We gotta represent our positions out here.”

“A'ight. I got a Ferragamo shirt with the matching shoes.”

“Yeah nigga, put on that shit.”

“You ain't gotta tell me what to wear. I know how to get fly.”

“A'ight whatever. Just hurry your ass up, okay?”

“I'll see you in a few.”

 

* * * * * * *

Rico pulled into the Bryan Manor parking lot alongside BMWs, Benzes, 'Vettes, and Caddies.

“Damn! Malik, look at these bitches,” Rico said as a beauty walked inside. “And we ain't even go in yet.”

“But we ain't come here for the ‘hos. We came to do business.”

“Yeah, whatever nigga. If I find some pussy, I'm taking it.”

“I know you will.”

As Malik and Rico entered the party, niggas whispered when the pair walked past.

“Who dat?” one nigga asked.

“Oh, that's that nigga Malik. He gettin' it. He the new nigga who supposed to be runnin' shit. Plus, he go hard as a muthafucka.”

“Oh, so that's the nigga everybody keeps talkin' 'bout. They say he killed Tank.”

“Yeah, he peeled his wig back. Him and his whole family. Now that's what you call vicious.”

“Yeah, but I hear he supposed to be a good dude too.”

Malik smiled as the young hustlers admired his character. As he walked past them, they spoke to him as if they knew him already. Malik nodded at the crowd of hustlers, acknowledging their respect for him.

On the other hand, Rico was mugging them down, instilling fear in their hearts. Rico wanted to be feared more than respected while Malik wanted a little of both.

As Malik was looking through the crowd for Kojack, females constantly walked up to him.

“How are you doing, Malik? I'm Keisha.”

“Hello Keisha. How do you know my name?”

“Come on, Malik. Who don't know your fine ass?”

Malik smiled at the nice-looking girl.

“Well, Keisha, I'd love to sit here, talk to you, and have a drink, but I'm looking for somebody right now.”

“Who are you looking for?”

“Kojack. You know him?”

“Yeah, he's over there by the bar being flanked by all them bitches,” Keisha said as she pointed toward Kojack.

“Look here. Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, what is it?”