Promise Kept, page 23
“I love how you sitting there with an attitude when my sister was only trying to look out for you. That’s all any of us have done since you two ragamuffins showed up on our doorstep.”
“You mean like you looked out for Mouse when you sent her to Brooklyn with no backup?” Promise challenged.
Candice cut a glance at Vaughn who was watching the exchange. Vaughn pretty much knew all Candice’s skeletons, but there remained aspects of her past and present life that she hadn’t been completely transparent about. “And where is my little cousin this afternoon?” she said, changing the subject.
Promise looked to her former air mattress, which was neatly folded in the corner, and shrugged. “She was knocked out when I crashed. Maybe she had to get out early and tie up y’all’s business from last night?”
“Don’t get cute,” Candice warned her.
“Candice, leave that girl alone and go get ready. We gotta go get the kids from my mom’s, and you know how she is. We can’t show up smelling like we been in the streets all night,” Vaughn said, which made Promise laugh because she knew they had.
Candice flipped Promise the middle finger before heading down the hall to her bedroom.
“You need to stop provoking her,” Vaughn told Promise once Candice was out of earshot. He liked Promise well enough and would’ve hated to see his baby mama put hands on her.
“She needs to stop fucking with me then. All her and her sister have been doing since me and Mouse moved here is come at our necks.” She was getting fed up with the twins.
“You don’t like it here? Do like Mouse did and find somebody else who’ll let you stay with them for a little bit of pussy here and there. Outside of that, try and make this work as best you can until something better comes along,” Vaugh suggested. He wasn’t trying to be cruel, just putting her situation on black and white.
“Something like what?” Promise questioned. “No disrespect to my girl, Mouse, but I can’t see myself trading ass for shelter. So, that’s out. And the little bullshit change they was paying me at the club is barely enough for me to feed myself and still kick them twin vampires their monthly tribute, for the privilege of sleeping on this fine couch. I’ve been trying to stack enough bread to get my own situation, but this shit slow motion.”
“What if I told you that I could help with that?” Vaughn questioned. Promise sat up a little straighter, which let him know that he had her attention. He took a quick glance down the hall to make sure Candice wasn’t around before continuing. “So, you know I got a new plug, right?”
“I hope this one is better than the last dude you was copping from.” Promise was speaking of Vaughn’s weed connect. He had been getting ounces on the cheap from some Jamaican and was trying to get his weight up. He’d recruited Promise as one of his street dealers. She didn’t know a whole lot about selling drugs, but she gave it her best effort. The problem was that the weed Vaughn was giving her to sell was weak. Vaughn ended up losing more money than he made and that’s how Promise ended up working at Dirty Wine.
“Nah, totally different cat and a totally different product,” Vaughn told her. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and came out with a Ziploc bag full of pills with Superman emblems carved into them. “Everybody sells weed now. I’m moving ecstasy. It’s all the rage now.”
This was something that Promise knew all too well. She knew a bunch of kids back in Newark who made E their weekend things, and sometimes weekdays, too. She’d been around it since forever, but had never tried it personally until she moved to New York with Mouse. Some dudes Keisha knew had some at a party, and Promise dropped one out of curiosity. It was the first and last time. She found herself all over the place, trying to keep her emotions in check. Her night had ended with her and Mouse sitting outside on a bench in front of the building, crying over past mistakes until the sun came up. That one time let Promise know that it was one drug she wanted nothing to do with.
“That’s out of my comfort zone.” Promise held her hands up in surrender.
“Dizzy, white girl. Nobody wants a repeat of that emotional-ass shit you put us through over the summer,” he teased her about her bad experience. “But on the real, I’m plugged in with some real gangsters now. Old-school cats who are about their business. I met their boss through Candice, and buddy is about his business. He got Westchester County and the Bronx rocking off this shit. I can get all the weight I want on consignment because he trusts me.”
“So, some random nigga you met through Candice is just willing to hand you the keys to the kingdom, just like that?” Promise was suspicious.
“Let’s just say I stepped up when it counted. Now I got access to all this shit and just need somebody I trust to help me move it. This is where you come in. You can push this shit through the strip club. Stripper bitches, and the niggas who trick their bread on them, love E. You’re already tapped in, so it’d be nothing for you to get these shits off during your shifts.”
“Sounds like a decent enough plan, but there’s one hole in it. I quit working at Dirty Wine last night,” Promise told him.
“Fuck Larry and his janky-ass spot. We get you set up somewhere else. I’m telling you, this is easy money,” Vaughn said as if it were that simple.
“That’s what a nigga always says to a bitch right before he gasses her up to do something that’s going to get her twenty years,” Promise countered. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
“I hear that,” Vaughn said, in a tone that let her know he wasn’t happy with her refusal. “You on your high horse now, but being that your ass is now unemployed, there’s only so long you’ll be able to keep standing on that soapbox before you fall and bust your head.” He tucked his bag back into his hoodie pocket and went into Candice’s room.
“Fuuuuccckk!” Promise threw herself back on the couch and slapped her hand across her forehead in frustration. As bad as she needed money right then, turning Vaughn down felt like intentionally cutting her own throat. She had to though. For as sound as Vaughn’s plan to move ecstasy through the strip clubs was, she didn’t trust him to be the one to execute it. They weren’t talking about a few ounces of ditch weed. He was asking her to follow him blindly into something that came with a different kind of prison time. Vaughn was a good dude, but it would only be a matter of time before he fucked that situation up. It was just in his nature. If he and Candice planned to make the apartment ground zero for their new designer drug business, Promise knew the clock had officially started ticking for her to move the hell out. She needed to get her hands on some cash in a hurry.
No sooner than Promise laid back down, there was a knock at the door. With a huff, she got up and shuffled down the hall. She didn’t bother to slip into her sweats, instead going to the door in a pair of spandex shorts and a tank top with no bra. It was probably Mouse, because everyone else who lived there was already in the apartment, and Keisha and Candice didn’t allow unannounced guests. Mouse used to have a key to the place, but when she started staying with her boyfriend, Keisha made her give the key back. It didn’t make any sense because Mouse was over there damn near every day anyhow. Now, whenever she came, someone had to get up and get the door for her, and most of the time, it was Promise. But when Promise opened the door, she was surprised to see who was standing on the other side.
“What the fuck?” Promise placed one of her arms over her breasts, hoping that he hadn’t seen her nipples staring back at him.
“How you be, Ms. Jersey?” Sin looked her up and down. He could tell that she had just gotten up, and even on the wake-up, Promise looked good as hell.
“I be creeped the fuck out right at this moment. You following me on some stalker shit? I didn’t take you for a weirdo last night, but maybe I was wrong?” Promise fired off.
“First of all, I’m gonna need you to turn all that aggressive shit down real quick. We established last night that you have a very high opinion of yourself, but me being here ain’t got shit to do with you, a’ight? I got business with Keisha. I didn’t even know hers was the couch you’ve been crashing on.”
“A temporary arrangement,” Promise told him.
Sin threw his hands up in surrender. “I ain’t here to judge. I’m kinda glad that I ran into you today though, seeing how you slid out last night without even so much as saying goodbye. Damn, I thought we were better than that, ma?”
“We ain’t nothing, Sin. And yeah, I wasn’t feeling too good, so I checked out early,” Promise lied.
Sin had seen her get into it with Larry, so he knew that she was full of shit, but he didn’t call her on it. He figured she had a reason for lying about what really went down. “Looks like you’re feeling better . . . a lot better.” He let his eyes drift down her thighs, over her calves and to her pink-painted toes. He caught himself and felt like a perv, so he turned his attention back to her face. “So, you working again tonight? Maybe I’ll come by and grab a drink with you.”
“No, I think my time with Dirty Wine has run its course,” Promise told him. “I don’t think they’ll be open again for a while anyhow. I heard some people got killed last night.”
“Oh, word?” Sin faked surprise.
“I thought you and your boys were there when it jumped off. You didn’t hear the gunshots outside?”
“Nah, we left right after you broke my heart and took off like Cinderella at the royal ball.” Sin turned it into a joke. “So, being that you can’t get no money at Dirty Wine anymore, I guess you got something else lined up or, at least, a solid plan to get to a bag? From what I picked up from you last night, the folks you stay with ain’t the kind that are gonna let you lay around while you get your shit in order.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Promise said, trying to conceal the worry in her voice. A plan was the one thing she didn’t have.
“Or take advantage of the opportunity I’m trying to provide you with.” Sin revisited their conversation from the previous night.
“You still on that?” Promise chuckled.
“You can’t tell from last night how persistent I am?”
“Like a dog on a bone,” Promise joked.
“I’ve been called worse, and that didn’t make it a lie,” Sin said with a shrug. “But on some real shit, Promise, I dig your style. How you handle yourself and all. I know you got some principles about you, so I wouldn’t never bring no bullshit your way. I’m talking about easy money.”
“Easy money gets you the most time,” Promise countered.
“Touché.” He gave her a mock salute. “Sweetie, I’d never sit here and bullshit you like it’s a nine-to-five waiting for you at the other end of my offer. I’m a criminal. I break the law to eat every night, make no mistake about that. But I ain’t no fucking purse snatcher or pill head running up in a liquor store with a broken gun.”
“Then what are you?” Promise asked.
“Afraid of not having,” Sin replied without hesitation. “Baby, I ain’t known you twenty-four hours, so I ain’t gonna pretend to have a crystal ball into your life to know what your circumstances are, but when I looked into your eyes last night, I saw the same anxious look that’s in them right now. Whatever you’re going through, I get the impression that time is not your friend. I’ve been there, so I know urgency when I see it. Help me to help you.”
Promise hated the fact that he was able to read her like that. Sin hadn’t told one lie in his assessment of her. Was she that transparent, or was this opportunity knocking at her door and she was too dumb to open it? “Sin, like you said, we don’t even know each other like that. Why do you even give a fuck about what happens to me?”
Sin measured the question before answering. “Honestly, because, in you, I see opportunity.”
“So, I’m just another come up?” Promise asked defensively.
“Everybody is a come up for someone else. I’m just one of the few who are honest enough to tell a muthafucka when I plan to use them to my benefit,” Sin said honestly. “The fact that I’m feeling you might be making me a little biased in all this, but it don’t change the fact that I know me and you can get some nice money together.”
“Doing what?”
“Less than they were asking of you at Dirty Wine,” Sin replied. “I ain’t asking you to sell your body, or hurt nobody, just follow my lead to the bag.”
“I hear you talking, but you still ain’t saying shit. You wanna convince me to get down with whatever you got going on? Stop trying to bullshit me and lay everything on the table.” Promise stepped aside so that Sin could enter the apartment.
“Fuck is this?” Keisha asked when she came into the living room and found Promise and Sincere on the couch conspiring.
“Oh . . . hey, Keisha,” Promise greeted her nervously as if she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Don’t ‘hey’ me. I asked a question. What the fuck is going on out here?” Keisha looked from Sin to Promise suspiciously. She and Sin were cool, but not cool enough for him to have her in the middle of her house while she was sleeping. She knew who he was and what he was, so she would’ve never let him come any further than her threshold. Apparently, her dumbass squatter still didn’t understand what she had been trying to indirectly tell her about him.
“Take it easy, Keisha. I came by to conclude our business, and me and ya family just got to chopping it up while I waited,” Sin said with a smile.
“She ain’t my family,” Keisha corrected him. “And since when did you know me to do business in my house with anybody? We can have our conversation in the hallway.”
“Well, good chat, Jersey. Hope to hear from you soon.” Sin patted her thigh before getting up and heading down the hall.
“Leave that girl alone, Sin,” Keisha said, once they were out of earshot of Promise.
“I told you, me and her were just chatting. Wasn’t about nothing,” Sin said innocently.
“You might be able to fool that green bitch, but I know what you are, Sin. I’m warning you. Stay away from Promise.”
“Why you even care? You said it yourself that she ain’t family,” Sin questioned.
Before Keisha could answer his question, the apartment door opened, and Candice and Vaughn came walking out. When Sin saw Vaughn, his eyes went wide. He was wearing a button-up shirt instead of a hoodie, but Sin recognized him from the night before. He had been with the man who shot Don B.
“What up?” Vaughn asked aggressively, not feeling the way Sin was sizing him up.
“Ain’t nothing,” Sin replied, committing Vaughn’s face to memory.
“What’s up, Sin? What you doing here?” Candice interrupted. She smoothed down the wig she had just put on to make sure she looked presentable.
“I’m chilling. How you been, Candice?” Sin asked the girl, but his eyes were still locked on Vaughn.
“I been okay. I’d be better if a certain somebody would let a bitch eat with him,” Candice said suggestively, as if Vaughn wasn’t even standing there. She had been checking for Sin for a while now, but hadn’t had the opportunity to proposition him yet. Now, here he was at her front door.
“Ain’t you gonna introduce Sin to your baby daddy?” Keisha threw a block. Her thirsty-ass sister was always trying to weasel her way into someone’s bag.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Sin, this is my kids’ father, Vaughn. I think y’all met before at that block party a few months ago,” Candice reminded him.
“Oh, right. That’s where I saw you before. I knew that I knew your face but couldn’t place it.” Sin extended his hand. Vaughn hesitated before shaking it, and when he did, his grip didn’t feel genuine.
“Let’s go, Candice. My mama waiting on us to pick up the kids.” Vaughn grabbed her hand and damn near dragged her to the elevator.
“See you later, Sin!” Candice called over her shoulder as she was being pulled away.
“I ain’t never known your sister to be fucking no hitters,” Sin said to Keisha once Candice and Vaughn were on the elevator.
“Vaughn?” Keisha chuckled. “He ain’t no hitter. Vaughn is a halfway drug dealer who ain’t long for the free world. That boy ain’t killing nothing and letting nothing die. But fuck Vaughn. You got something for me?”
“Of course,” Sin reached in his back pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, which he handed to her. Keisha took a second to thumb through the bills inside and nodded in approval. “Good looking out again on that. Without you, we wouldn’t have been able to get those hammers inside the club, even though we had to end up taking the nigga down outside anyway.”
“I heard. Made a real mess of things out front from the way I hear it. Messy ain’t usually your style, Sin.”
Sin shrugged. “Shit got out of hand. It happens. You hear any chatter on it? People talking about who might’ve dropped that body?”
“Who? The big dude that got laid out front? Just a loose description. You’d have to know Unique personally to know who they’re talking about,” Keisha told him.
“Fuck him. I’m talking about the Don. A big-named rapper like him gets murked, the streets should be on fire right now with speculation,” Sin told her. He’d had his ear to the ground all morning and hadn’t heard too much, which he found odd.
“I guess it’s true what they say about street niggas not reading, huh?” Keisha shook her head sadly. “Hold on a second.” She went into the apartment and came back a few seconds later with her phone. She jumped on Twitter and scrolled until she found the trending topic. She clicked the hashtag and handed the phone to Sin.
Not understanding what she was getting at, Sin took the phone. He made it through the first few tweets before his knees got weak. “What the fuck?” Sin’s head swam as he read through tweet after tweet. The hashtag was #TeflonDon, and it led him to a series of tweets about a failed attempt on the life of the rapper. One person who claimed to have been on the scene when it happened told a fantastic story about watching the rapper take ten bullets, roll a blunt, and then drive himself to the hospital. There were several variations of what had gone down, but the one piece of information that remained the same in every tweet and story was that Don B. was still alive.
