The Score (6 page)

* * *

Now, I had to force myself to blink away that crazy memory of the past. “Are you a'ight?” Matt asked me as his eyes squinted into suspicious dashes.

“Yeah, I'm good. I'm just trying to figure out why Yancy bolted out of here like she did.”

“How am I supposed to know? Maybe it's that time of the month,” Matt replied nonchalantly, walking over and kissing me on my cheek. It was the exact same shit he'd done all of the other times he was guilty of being unfaithful.

My insides were churning. I wanted to tell him so badly that I knew that once again he was being a fucking dog and cheating on me, although I was the one who had been holding him down after he'd lost everything he used to have.

“Are you ready to plot our next hit?” he continued.

“Sure, why not?” I said as I kicked off my shoes. “But three million dollars in one account sounds a little suspect. But I'm still willing to take a chance and see if we can get it out by wires,” I told Matt.

“Think you can call your dude Ryan up north and see if he can crack the account? 'Cause if he can then we can say good-bye to all of this petty fucking stealing and credit card scamming bullshit. And I can finally buy back into the game and get back on my feet. Make money the way I used to do it. Boy it would feel good to be back on my grind. This white-collar shit is a'ight. But it ain't like that street money. That street money comes with power and respect. Not this shit here. Sometimes I feel like a fucking petty-ass thief after we come off with five and ten grand jobs. That ain't no real money to a nigga like me. I need to make the kind of dough I used to make when I was in the streets. I wanna feel like the leader I am,” Matt said.

“Oh really?” My nostrils flared and I bit down into my jaw to keep myself from saying what I really wanted to say to him. How fucking dare he talk about buying back into the game and getting back on his feet when I'd been the one holding us down since the drug raid that had ended his street deals. I was also the one who scammed up the money for the defense attorney that kept his ass out of going to prison for life. And because of all the stress I ended up losing a baby I didn't know I was pregnant with until it was too late. I went through the loss of the baby by myself because Matt was locked up behind bars. What's even more fucked up was that I hadn't been able to get pregnant since. The only reason I could think that this was happening was because Matt was too busy shooting sperm up in all the other bitches. Right now, he was definitely treading on thin ice with me.

“Yeah, really. I don't feel like I run this shit. Sometimes it feels like I work for you and that ain't cool. I want my own shit! I wanna rebuild my empire. So as soon as we get this bread, I'm calling my connects and then I'm gonna branch off.”

“I see you got everything all planned out. So, I'll call my dude, but you, me, and Yancy are going to have to talk about percentages,” I said flatly. “Now I know that she found the wallet but that still doesn't entitle her to the lion's share of the money. It's going to come down to who has the resources to get that money into our hands.”

“I figured that you were going to say that,” Matt replied. “It's always about who is going to get more and who gets less with you, Lauren. ”

“You damn right. I started this whole thing. If it weren't for me, then we wouldn't be living the life we're living. Look at this place. Look at the cars we drive. So, of course, I'm gonna say who gets what,” I told him.

“Look at how quickly we forget who took who out of the fucking hood!” Matt snapped. I could tell that he was becoming very irritated with this conversation of ours.

“I haven't forgotten shit. I know what you did for me.”

“Are you sure? Because right now, you're acting like you've done everything for me. When in fact, I put you up in a house, paid all the bills, and took care of you.”

“Look, Matt, I already said that I remembered what you did for me before you went away and did time. So I'm not trying to go back and forth with you. All I'm saying is that, you can try to get your hands on the money on your own, or you can agree to my terms and we all walk away happy.”

“Whatever, Lauren. Just make the phone call and let's make this shit happen,” Matt folded.

I smirked and shook my head in the affirmative. “Now that's the spirit,” I said sarcastically.

One thing about me, I might have come from the hood but I didn't have a hood mindset at all. I was going to get mine no matter what. Too bad, I was going to see to it that Matt and Yancy didn't get shit.

I left Matt in the room and headed back outside to make the call to my computer geek, Ryan. I needed some privacy so I elected that my car would be the best place for it. As soon as I got into the driver's seat I started dialing his number but before I could press the send button an incoming call came through. I looked down at the caller ID and noticed that it was my homegirl Daysha so I answered it. “What's up, girl?” I said.

“Nothing much. Where you been? I've been trying to get up with you.”

“You know me. I don't sit in one place too long,” I joked.

“Think you can get me a couple of five-hundred-dollar American Express gift cards? I got this nigga looking for some and he said he's got the money now. So, I'm trying to catch me a lick. I got bills piling up my ass and I need to put some money on my baby daddy's commissary account. Ugh, I just need a break.”

She seemed very flustered, but I wasn't feeding into her shit. I've given her plenty of opportunities to get her own cash, but she fucked every last one of them up. Instead of selling the gift cards I had given her, she kept them for herself and lied about them being stolen. Then she almost got caught cashing one of the phony checks at a check-cashing spot. The lady gave Daysha a hard time about the check telling her that she needed another form of ID so instead of Daysha saying that she didn't have it and that she would take her business elsewhere, she starts cursing the lady out and makes a scene. In the end, the lady kept the check and the fake ID and called the cops. Luckily Daysha got out of there before the cops got there, because if she hadn't her silly ass would've gone to jail. And who knows, she probably would've blown my whole operation. From that day, I put her on ice. I never got her to do anything else, even though I knew she needed the money. She was a liability. So, from time to time I'd throw her a few bucks just so she could have a few dollars in her pocket.

“Nah, Daysha, you know I don't do those gift cards anymore. They started becoming a hassle so I just did away with them,” I lied. I wasn't dealing with her on that level anymore.

“Well, can you send me on one of those check-cashing jobs? 'Cause I need some money bad.”

“Come on, Daysha, why you making me go there with you? You know what happened the last time I sent you on one of those jobs.”

“Yeah, but that's been over six months now,” she whined.

“It doesn't matter, Daysha. You almost put my business in jeopardy. So I can't trust you handling a job like that anymore.”

“Oh so it's like that?!” Daysha said, clearly irritated.

“Yeah, it is. But if you need a few dollars I can come 'round there and give you a couple hundred bucks,” I offered. I figured it was better than having nothing.

“What the fuck is two hundred dollars going to do for me? I can't do shit with that, Lauren. I can't even pay my fucking water bill with that.”

“It's more than what your baby daddy ever gave you,” I hissed. This chick was really starting to get on my nerves. How dare she call me like I fucking owe her something? I didn't tell her to get with that bum she had a baby by. That's her fault she doesn't know how to manage her money. Not mine.

“Yo, Lauren, that was real foul shit to say to your homegirl. You definitely showed me how you truly feel about me.”

“Look, Daysha, do you want the money or not?” I asked her. I wasn't about to join her pity party. I had shit to do. I had a phone call to make that was going to bring me a three-million-dollar payout. So, this chump change that Daysha and I were talking about was taking up my time.

“Nah, keep it and give it to somebody else,” she said, and then she disconnected our call.

Normally I would call her back when we had our little spats. But this time, I let her go because I had a big fish to catch. And my white boy in Maryland named Ryan was the man to help me do it.

MATT

L
auren had once again worked her magic with her hacker connection. She had somehow managed to get her connect Ryan up in B'more to change all of the account information into the names of Mr. and Mrs. Belton, who would be played by us when we went into the bank. For real, when she first proposed the idea to me, I was looking at her like she was out of her fucking mind. I mean, I thought we were just going to have the money wired to new accounts, but Lauren was talking about us walking into the bank as a rich couple and walking out with a briefcase filled with cash. “I thought shit like that only happened in the movies,” I had said to Lauren. She laughed and told me she had everything under control. I guess she did.

All we had to do now was come off as the ritzy Beltons. We'd walk into the bank, meet with the branch manager, and walk out with the cash. At least that was the plan. Sounded easy, but in the theft line of business nothing was ever really that easy. One wrong word, look, or move and you could find yourself trapped in the bank until the cops arrived. I wasn't trying to go back to the joint so Lauren better know what she was doing.

Slinging dope was much easier than making money doing this white-collar shit. At least in the dope game you knew exactly who your enemies were and could try to be ready for a sneak attack. In the scamming business you could've just scored big and never saw that a bank employee or store clerk had hit the button to call the police on you. Who said white-collar crime was safer than street crime?

I flexed my neck and buttoned the top button on my custom-fitted French cuff dress shirt. I stuck my arms out in front of me and admired the shimmery diamond cuff links that were glistening from my wrists. Everything I was wearing felt rich against my skin. A feeling I hadn't experienced in a while. It felt damned good to get dressed up in a custom-tailored Armani suit, brand-new wingtip Ferragamo loafers, and the big H Hermès belt. To seal the deal on my rich look, I slid on the solid gold Presidential Rolex Lauren had gotten me off one of her credit card trips. I took one last look at myself in the mirror behind our bedroom door. It had been mad long since I'd dressed up like this.

“Sharp as shit. Not bad if I do say so myself. Damn, nigga, you still got it. You look good as hell. Like a boss,” I complimented myself. I swiped my hand over my freshly lined goatee and made sure the waves on my head were on spin. I was feeling like a boss again. I was ready for whatever. But, to make sure I was definitely ready, I slid my gun onto my belt and pulled my suit jacket over it to guarantee it was concealed. I had already told Lauren if shit went bad at the bank, I was going to shoot our way out. I had made a promise to myself that I would never go back to the joint. I would have rather died.

* * *

“Lauren. You almost ready, bae?” I yelled. I was feeling dapper and I knew if I looked this good Lauren was going to be stepping through looking even better. Lauren was beautiful inside and out. I was even more in love with her now than before. She had taken a lot of shit off of me over the years including cheating with other bitches. It wasn't something for her to take personal because I wasn't ever going to feel about the next chick like I felt about Lauren.

Lauren held me down for years. When I got locked up and lost all my shit to the fed seizures, Lauren didn't think twice about coming up with a new plan to get money for both of us. Lauren was one of the smartest chicks I knew. You would've thought she had every college degree there is, but nope, she was just made resourceful and super intelligent.

Lauren was definitely the mastermind behind our illegal credit card and check-kiting operation. When she first introduced me to this shit she never made me feel like I was less of a man . . . until just recently. That's a big reason why I was going back into the drug game. I can't have no chick of mine running shit while I just sit around like I'm her bitch! No way! That ain't how I roll. I was a man of substance. I was a fucking boss! And bosses ran their own show. Aside from all the shit that comes with this white-collar hustle, Lauren was a good girl at heart. She was my ride-or-die chick and she was the realest chick I'd ever had on my team. Lauren was also loyal. Now, we'd had a lot of fights over the years but that came with the territory. I mean, what nigga doesn't go through shit with their chicks? Street niggas didn't do anything the easy way, including loving their chicks. If only Lauren could understand that all that cheating shit was just what I did to make up for my own shortcomings. It didn't mean that I didn't love her because I loved the fuck out of her and my feelings for her weren't going to change.

As I waited for her to come out of our walk-in closet, I sat on the side of our bed with my head in my hands. Things all of a sudden started weighing on me. I was a dog nigga and I knew it. I could probably help it if I wanted but the way I grew up, only weak niggas didn't cheat. As much as I loved Lauren, I had fucked up again. This time it went deep. I was fucking with Yancy behind Lauren's back and now I was feeling like shit about it. It was like I had a sickness. As long as I can remember, pussy has always been thrown at me, so I simply had to take it. Now I'm not making excuses for my behavior, but there was no denying that Yancy was a bad bitch in a totally different way than Lauren. Lauren had that wholesome good girl appeal about her. But, Yancy had that bad-bitch, freak-in-the-sheets, I'll-suck-your-dick-on-camera type of swag about her. It was hard to pass up good pussy when it's always in your face. It was wrong, but I couldn't help it. I knew when Lauren brought Yancy around that Yancy was going to be trouble. I still remember the first day I laid eyes on Yancy. . . .

 

 

 

I looked at Lauren out of the corner of my eye. She looked over at me and I made a face at her like
what the fuck we supposed to do with this chick now?
We didn't know the chick from a can of paint aside from us buying a few hot watches, cuff links, and some nice necklaces from her. That didn't exactly qualify the chick to come chill at our spot with us. I mean if the chick was grimy enough to be stealing jewelry from tricks, what was to stop her from doing some grimy shit to us?