Eviction Notice, page 19
“Well, I ain’t got no girl, so I’m trying to put a gum in something. Point me at the bitch with the biggest ass and come back for me in an hour,” Holiday capped, causing everyone in the car to laugh.
“While you three have got your faces buried in pussy, try to keep in mind that we’re here on business too,” Angelo reminded him. Of the quartet he was the most serious.
“Chill out, Angelo, you know we know how to conduct ourselves when we’re out,” Holiday told him.
“The only thing I know is that you better be the fuck on point. Having fun is okay, but you soldiers are here to be the eyes in the backs of our heads. There’s going to be a lot of different crews in there and not everyone is a big fan of our family,” Angelo reminded him.
Holiday pulled his twin nines from the shoulder holsters under his leather jacket. “I wish a nigga would try to play outta pocket. I’ll put this whole fucking club to sleep, and that’s on the big, homie.”
“Put those fucking guns away before you accidentally put us to sleep,” Swann ordered. Shai was the boss, but Swann was his field general and all the soldiers respected him. When the town car pulled to a stop, two of Swann’s handpicked shooters approached the back door and waited. “A’ight, let’s do this,” Swann said and pushed the door open.
People looked on in bewilderment as Shai was greeted with stern handshakes and smiles. You’d have thought the president had arrived, and in a sense he had. Shai and his people ran nearly every aspect of organized crime in the tristate area. Nothing was stolen, sold, or built without Shai’s getting a taste. As he and his crew were fitted with VIP armbands, the owner walked over.
“Shai, I’m so glad you could make it.” Paulie greeted him with a hug. He was a tall man who was always immaculately dressed with a movie star’s good looks.
“You know I wouldn’t refuse an invitation from a friend of ours,” Shai replied. “The place looks good.”
“It’s better than good, Shai, it’s a gold mine. Since we did the renovations, business has tripled and I have the Clarks to thank for it. Here, I got something for you.” Paulie handed him an envelope. “Just a token of our appreciation.”
Shai tested the weight of the envelope, then handed it to Swann, who put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. What few people knew was that the property where Brick City sat had been about to go into foreclosure until Shai stepped in. He had not only provided Paulie with the loan to save the property but had allowed Paulie the use of one of his contracting companies to do the renovations at half price. Of course, none of this was done out of the goodness of his heart. For his services Shai had become a silent partner in Brick City.
“Hey, Shai, I got a few more things to take care of so I’m gonna have my people show you to the VIP and I’ll join you later.” Paulie shook his hand again. “And remember, your money is no good in here tonight, not even for trim.” He walked off.
“As if we were gonna pay for the pussy anyhow,” Holiday said, snickering.
“Remember what I told you,” Angelo said, elbowing Holiday as they were led into the recesses of the club.
* * *
King James sat behind the wheel of the big green Suburban parked in front of the party-supply store, watching the action in front of Brick City. He watched curiously as the man who had been pointed out as Shai Clark stepped from the town car to receive his praises. Though he had to admit that Shai wasn’t quite what he’d expected, King James knew better than anyone else that looks could be deceiving. He continued to watch Shai until he was finally escorted inside and out of sight.
“How much longer we gonna sit in this ride, man? My legs are getting cramped,” Dump complained. He was a huge man who took up almost an entire row of the truck seats on his own. He and King James had become friends in state prison, and when Dump touched down, King put him in position. He was as loyal as he was deadly.
“Until my nigga says we move,” Lakim told him, expelling a cloud of smoke from the blunt he was toking on. He was just as eager as Dump to get to business, but would be patient and wait to see how King wanted to play it.
“Damn, I would live in that box.” Alonzo watched two girls walk past the truck wearing jeans that were way too tight.
“They probably working the spot tonight, so you may get your chance, baby bro. I told you it was a good idea to come out with us.” Lakim passed Alonzo the blunt.
Alonzo happily accepted. “Yeah, I can’t front, this spot looks like it’s jumping!”
“Word up. Yo, Zo, you get to spend all that good supermarket money on whore pussy tonight,” Ashanti joked.
“Fuck you, li’l bastard. That’s why your young ass will be watching the whip instead of coming in to play with the grown folks,” Alonzo shot back. Everyone in the car, including King, burst out laughing.
When King figured enough time had passed to get Shai and his crew situated, he decided it was time for them to make their entrance. “A’ight, let’s do this.” King got out of the whip and headed for the club, with his people following closely. The line to get into the spot was crazy, but King didn’t do lines. With a fifty-dollar bill pressed in his palm, he walked up to the bouncer who was on the door.
“The line starts back there, homie,” the bouncer told King.
“Yeah, can dig that, but I was hoping we didn’t have to go through all that, feel me?” King shook the bouncer’s hand, leaving the fifty in his palm.
The bouncer checked the bill and slipped it into his pocket. “A’ight, that’ll work for one of y’all, but I see you guys are three deep, so, you know.” The bouncer held out his hand.
“Word up, you’re gonna rob me with no gun, huh?” King eyed him.
The bouncer shrugged. “I got kids to feed, homie. You know how it goes.”
Lakim was frustrated with the bouncer so he stepped up. “Yo, what kinda bullshit is you trying to run, sun? You don’t know who the fuck we be?”
The bouncer looked down at the shorter Lakim. “Check this out, fam: if you don’t back up off me with that jail shit, we gonna have a problem.”
“Chill, La.” Alonzo pushed his brother back. “Check it, B,” he addressed the bouncer. “My brother didn’t mean no disrespect, it’s just that we feel like you’re being a little bit unreasonable with trying to make us pay fifty dollars per head plus the price of admission.”
“First of all, I ain’t ya B. So you can take that shit back across the bridge to Harlem, the Bronx, or wherever the fuck you’re from in New York. It’s fifty a head to me if you wanna jump the line and whatever you work out at the door is on you, take it or leave it,” the bouncer said in a dismissive tone.
Alonzo felt his blood begin to boil the longer he stared at the smug expression on the bouncer’s face. His initial instincts were to peel off one of the razors he had taped to the collar of his button-up and widen that smirk for the bouncer for talking crazy to him in front of all those people, but he didn’t take it there. He was about to try reasoning with the bouncer one more time before he got physical, but he heard somebody calling his name.
“Alonzo, is that you making all that noise out there?” a female voice called from the darkened doorway of Brick City. Alonzo strained his eyes and saw a woman coming from behind a small podium just inside the foyer. It wasn’t until she stepped outside into the light that he recognized Ms. Betty.
“Wow, what’re you doing here?” he asked, surprised to see the older woman whose groceries he’d packed on numerous occasions, at a strip club.
“I’m trying to pay the bills, but what is your li’l tail doing here?” Ms. Betty shot back.
“Me and a few of the fellas were taking a friend out for his birthday and we heard this spot was good, so we came out. But as you can see, we’re having a li’l trouble with your peoples.” Alonzo glared at the bouncer.
Ms. Betty looked up at the bouncer. “Are you giving my nephew and his friends trouble?”
The bouncer now wore the expression of a kid who had just gotten a note home from school. “I’m sorry, ma, he didn’t tell me that he was your family.”
“Well, now that you know, you can step aside and let them through. Come on here.” Ms. Betty grabbed Alonzo by the arm and led him inside the club. Lakim, Dump, and King brought up the rear.
King stopped short and glared at the bouncer. “And give me my fucking money back,” he demanded. The bouncer sucked his teeth and gave King back his fifty.
Ms. Betty marched Alonzo and his people in like they were superstars, waiving the admission charge and instructing the girl who had taken her place behind the podium to fit them with VIP bands. She also gave them five drink tickets apiece and instructed them to come and find her if they wanted more. It was obvious that Ms. Betty had some serious pull in the establishment.
“Thanks for everything, Ms. Betty,” Alonzo told her.
“This wasn’t about nothing; you know you’re family to me, Alonzo. I always told you that if I ever was in a spot to help you out I would repay your kindness. Now let me get back to work.” She gave him a hug. “Be sure to find me before y’all cut out so we can have a toast.”
“You got that, Ms. Betty, and tell Lee I said what’s up.”
“I sure will. See you later, Alonzo.” Ms. Betty sashayed back through the crowd and retook her post at the podium.
“Say, brah, where you know the old head from?” Lakim asked Alonzo once Ms. Betty had gone.
“I used to pack her groceries,” Alonzo told him.
“Brah, a chick ain’t showing you that kinda love for making sure her cans don’t crush her eggs. What’s really good?” Lakim pressed.
Seeing that Lakim wasn’t going to leave it alone, Alonzo kept it real. “A’ight. When her son first came home he had a problem getting a job so I got him plugged in working a delivery truck to appease his parole officer. He went from loading trucks to driving them and eventually buying one and opening his own trucking company.”
“You’re a regular guardian angel, huh?” Dump joked.
“Nah, he did that off his own hard work, all I did was put him in position to have an opportunity.”
King James took note of how Alonzo carried himself and was proud to see that he had grown into a humble young man. A lot of people gave Alonzo shit for squaring up, but King James held him in very high regard for turning his life around. “You’re a good man, Zo-Pound”—King James draped his arm around Alonzo—“but right now we’re in a bad place, so let’s go do some bad things.”
“What about the going to holla at Shai?” Lakim asked.
“It’ll keep. Right now, let’s just grab a few drinks and fuck with some of this pussy.” King James smiled.
CHAPTER 26
Porsha sat in the spacious dressing room of Brick City, fixing her eighteen-inch pink wig. Jersey was foreign territory to her and she’d heard how fierce the comp could be, with girls willing to go above and beyond for a song and a dance, so she knew she’d need to step outside the box that night. Instead of a normal thong or bikini she decided to play dress-up, rocking a Warrior Princess outfit, equipped with a fake sword and bronze corset. Since she’d busted the outfit out she’d been getting compliments from the other girls and questions about where she’d gotten it, but of course Porsha wasn’t fool enough to tell.
Fifteen minutes after they’d arrived at the spot, Kat had disappeared with some guy she knew, and Porsha hadn’t seen her since. There was no doubt in Porsha’s mind what Kat was up to, but she didn’t judge her. A lot of chicks fronted like they had limits to what they would do for a dollar, but Kat didn’t have those kinds of hang-ups. Kat was about her paper and didn’t care who knew it or how they felt about it, which was one of the things Porsha admired about her.
The girls she had met at Brick City had come from all over the place for the event. Most of the out-of-town girls were cool, and just there to get their paper, but the chicks from Jersey were throwing major shade. There had been three fights that night between the chicks from Jersey and the out-of-towners, and the real ballers hadn’t even started to show up yet, so the night promised to be eventful if anything. The girls from Jersey felt like just because it was their home turf it automatically made them the favorites to win the clap-off, but that’s because they had never seen Porsha do her thing. She worked out four days per week and did Pilates every Saturday, so there was no way she planned on walking out of there without at least the rent money.
The door to the dressing room flew open and in walked a big-boned, light-skinned chick whom they called Brick House because of her statuesque build. She stood at just a hair over six feet in flat shoes, with huge breasts and one of the biggest asses Porsha had ever seen. She was a regular at Brick City so she walked around like she owned the joint, looking down on the new girls. Porsha had known her for only about a half hour and she already knew that she couldn’t stand her.
“A’ight, you bitches listen up,” Brick House’s voice boomed. “Playtime is over and the real money has arrived. We got rappers, rock stars, and gangstas, all with rock-hard dicks and fists full of money waiting in the VIP area, waiting to blow both in no particular order. So if you’re scared, keep your ass on the main floor, but if you’re about that money, get your ass in gear and let’s get it!”
“You ain’t gotta tell me twice.” A chunky stripper wearing a bad wig hopped up and shuffled toward the door. Her stretch-mark-covered ass was so big that if she was wearing a thong no one could see it.
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Brick House blocked her path.
“I’m going to get my paper, where do you think I’m going?” The stripper looked up at Brick House.
“The only paper you should be worried about is a paper bag to cover that nasty-ass weave you got going on. The VIP is off-limits to you, ma. We don’t need you scaring these niggaz before we can milk them.”
“And who do you think you are to tell me where I can eat at?” the stripper challenged.
“I’m the bitch that’ll knock you unconscious if I catch you around any of my tricks,” Brick House said with ice in her voice. “Now feel free to get whatever your fat ass can scare up on the pole or the main floor, but the VIP is off-limits. And if you don’t like what I’m saying, then we can step into the bathroom for five minutes and discuss it. What you wanna do?”
The fat stripper looked around to see if anyone had her back, and of course they didn’t. “I ain’t beat for this shit, I’m going to get a drink.” The fat stripper sucked her teeth and stepped around Brick House to leave the dressing room.
“You do that, but be sure to leave some liquor for the rest of us, you fucking whale,” Brick House called after her. She walked down the aisle of benches and mirrors, examining the girls. No one would hold her evil gaze. “Some bitches just don’t get it, only top-notch chicks eat here at Brick City. If you’re a cow”—she looked at one stripper who was kind of on the chubby side—“or a skank”—she looked at another stripper—“then you play the main area and let the real hos show you how to get it up.” She stopped and let her eyes linger on Porsha, who was still tinkering with her hair in the mirror. “Nice outfit, shorty.”
“Thanks,” Porsha said without turning around to acknowledge her.
Brick House leaned in close enough to invade Porsha’s space. “I’ll bet you look better out of it than you do in it,” she whispered.
Porsha placed her hairbrush down and glared at Brick House in the mirror. “Unless you’re tipping, you’ll continue to wonder.”
Brick House smiled, showing off the gold tooth on one side of her mouth. “By the end of the night I’ll be toting a heavier bag than any bitch in this joint, so maybe we can arrange a private party.”
“Sorry, I don’t do fish.” Porsha got up and brushed past her to leave, but Brick House grabbed her arm.
“I can dig it; you’re new so you don’t know how things work in the Bricks.”
Porsha looked at Brick House’s hand as if it had been dipped in shit. “I don’t know how things work in the Bricks, but in Harlem people get hurt for touching women uninvited.” Porsha tried to jerk her arm away, but Brick House’s grip was like steel. She snatched Porsha back and shoved her against the wall, with her hand now around her neck. In her other hand she held a razor, which she ran threateningly down Porsha’s cheek.
“Look here, li’l bitch,” Brick House breathed into Porsha’s face, “you’re a long way from home so I suggest you get with the program. Brick City been mine since the day they broke ground, and I get a piece of whatever I want that comes in this muthafucka, including trump-mouthed pussy.” She jammed her knee between Porsha’s legs roughly.
“My, my, nobody told me that this was jail night at Brick City.” Kat strolled into the dressing room, still wearing her street clothes with her tote bag slug over her shoulder.
Brick House cut her eyes at Kat. “Don’t worry, Big Kat, you can get next on this.”
“Sorry to disappoint, Bricks, but the day li’l miss decides to swing the other way, I can assure you that I won’t be going second. But from the looks of things she hasn’t sworn off meat just yet. Why don’t you ease up, Bricks?” Kat said in a easy tone.
“C’mon, Kat, you think you can just hog every stray bitch on both sides of the Hudson River?”
“Every stray needs a warm meal from time to time. I’m sure you of all people understand that, Bricks. Besides, this one ain’t no stray, she’s with me,” Kat informed her.
Hearing this, Brick House released Porsha and took a step back. She and Kat weren’t friends but they knew each other from the circuit and shared some of the same associates. Brick House was a thug, but Kat ran with certified gangstas so you had to be ready to bring it all to dance at her party. “My fault. Had I known she was one of yours I would’ve never tried her,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m so sure,” Kat said with a smirk. “You good, ma?” she asked Porsha.
