Eviction Notice, page 28
“This has nothing to do with Tayshawn,” Gucci said, getting defensive.
“This has everything to do with him, Gucci. At first I was sympathetic to your pain and understood that you were in mourning, but years later and you’re still walking around in a daze? Baby girl, I’m starting to worry about you,” Ms. Ronnie said seriously.
“I’m cool, Ma,” Gucci lied.
“No, you’re not. Gucci, I had love for Animal too, but he ain’t here no more, baby. You can’t keep loving a ghost.”
“You sound like Tionna now.”
“Then Tionna was telling you right and the girl has more sense than I gave her credit for. Brooding ain’t gonna bring Animal back or mend that broken heart.”
“So I’m just supposed to act like he never existed?” Gucci snapped.
“You better watch that tone, because you ain’t too old for me knock you on your ass,” Ms. Ronnie threatened.
“Sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, I just get so tired of people telling me to get over him. Nobody knows what we had and nobody knows what I’m going through with not having him around.”
“I know, baby. The heart is a funny thing and we can’t dictate how fast it heals when it’s been broken, but at the same time you have to want it to heal.”
“I do,” Gucci whispered, staring at the carpet.
“Then do something about it,” Ms. Ronnie challenged. “Put on some clothes and some makeup and go have a good time with your friend. You owe it to Tionna, but more importantly you owe it to yourself.”
“You’re right, Mommy, and thank you for always keeping it one hundred with me.” She hugged her mother.
“You know I don’t bite my tongue for nobody. Right is right and wrong is wrong.” Ms. Ronnie snatched the blunt back. “Now call that girl and handle your business.” She walked into the bedroom, blowing smoke rings in the air.
Gucci walked down the hall to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wasn’t wearing a drop of makeup. She was still a very pretty girl, but the face staring back at her wasn’t the Gucci she knew, who had once demanded the attention of every baller in Harlem. Her mother’s words rang in her head, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was right. Life was too short to live it reflecting on the things that had happened and what could’ve been, especially when the future looked so bright. She was young, pretty, with no kids and a healthy bank account. She had too many things to be thankful for not to take the time to appreciate her blessings. She picked up her cell to call Tionna and hoped it wasn’t too late.
“Hey, T,” Gucci said when the girl picked up on the other line.
“Don’t hey T me, do you know how long I’ve been trying to call you?” Tionna shouted.
“I know, I know, but I was going through something and turned my phone off. Look, are you still trying to go to that party tonight?”
“Yeah, I was going with or without your stinking ass, because I had a feeling you were gonna flake on me and pull this grieving-widow shit.”
“I can’t front, I started to, but I wanna go.”
“Really? What brought on this change of heart?” Tionna was surprised.
“Sometimes you have to live in order to understand what life is about,” Gucci said, reflecting on the talk she’d had with her mother.
“Huh?”
“Never mind, T. Give me a few to go home and get dressed and I’ll be through to pick you up.”
CHAPTER 39
“Look at you, getting all sexy.” Frankie leaned in the doorway of Porsha’s bedroom, watching her finish dressing. She had on a tight-fitting red dress that dropped to her navel in the front, showing off an ample amount of cleavage.
“You know I gotta do it big for our first official date and I wanna leave an impression on him.” Porsha winked, doing the last strap on her three-quarter ankle boots.
“You’re gonna leave more than an impression, ma. That nigga is gonna be all over you, girl. I hope you got your pepper spray.”
Porsha stopped her buckling. “Frankie, why do you keep trying to throw Don B. under the bus?”
“Because the boy is scandalous,” Frankie said simply.
“I’ll bet you wouldn’t feel that way if I told you he had a friend for you to hook up with,” Porsha accused.
“Yes, I would, because any nigga who hangs with Don B. is probably scandalous too. Just because a guy has money doesn’t mean he has morals. Besides, I never really dug hustlers. I’ve always been more partial to the gainfully employed, like Alonzo. Now that’s who you should’ve hooked up with.”
“Fuck Alonzo,” Porsha spat.
“Damn, what’s that all about?” Frankie wondered. Alonzo had always been a cool dude, even letting them get free stuff from the supermarket when they were low on cash.
“I don’t like how he came out his mouth earlier when I was in the store. Him and his boys were in Brick City and saw me doing my thing and this nigga gets an attitude, acting like I got the plague or something because I dance. I’m like, are you fucking serious?”
“Maybe his feelings were hurt,” Frankie suggested.
“Hurt over what? I didn’t do anything to him.”
Frankie shook her head. “Porsha, you can’t be that fucking dense. Alonzo has been head over heels in love with you since you first moved around here, so seeing you out there shaking your ass in front of all them dudes was probably a shock to his system. He’s a man in love, so you should try to be a little more understanding. Who knows, if you actually took the time to notice him, you guys may actually hit it off.”
“Ain’t nobody stunting Alonzo.” Porsha walked to the small mirror hanging on the wall and checked her hair. “I need a man who is gonna take care of me, not struggle with me.”
“Youz a damn fool.” Frankie laughed.
“Call me what you want, but if things go the way I plan, you won’t be calling me broke.” Porsha blew herself a kiss in the mirror. “Speaking of fools, where’s Sahara?”
“That chick been up and outta here. I think her and King was going out to eat before the big party.”
“Now if anybody needs your words of wisdom it’s that bitch. It’ll be a matter of time before the other shoe drops with that cat, and Sahara is too blind to see the writing on the walls.”
“You’re one to talk.” Frankie raised an eyebrow.
Porsha rolled his eyes. “Please, those are two different situations. She’s chasing a petty-ass crack dealer and I’m chasing a legitimate businessman.”
“Ha, that’s funny. Don B. has seen more than his fair share of courtrooms. That boy has been linked to more murders over the last few years than swine flu,” Frankie said.
“And he ain’t spent a day in jail, so what does that tell you?”
“That he’s slicker than a pig in shit.”
“Hater,” Porsha said, grabbing her purse off the bed. “So what’re you gonna do tonight?”
Frankie shrugged. “Probably just hang around here and see if I can get a few of these pieces off. You know the moment of truth is right around the corner and if we don’t have that money, the kind of dudes we’re dating will be the least of our concerns.”
“I don’t know why you’re saying we’re like your ass has had a date since Jesus turned water to wine,” Porsha joked.
“Whatever, I’m just picky about who I go out with. A big bank account don’t move me, ma.”
“Which is why you’re home alone tonight. Toodles.” Porsha winked and headed out.
“Skank,” Frankie said when she heard the front door slam. Now that everyone was out of the house, it was time for Frankie to get ready for her date … with the trap.
* * *
Porsha stepped out of her building shining like new money. She was greeted by smiles, waves, and compliments from the people she knew as well as people who had never spoken to her before. A few of the locals tried to holla, but she looked right through them. She wasn’t about to waste time with commoners when she had a date with royalty.
She made her way down the path toward the avenue, trying her best not to break her ankles in the high heels. She scanned the street for Don B.’s Hummer but there was no sign of it. Porsha found that strange, as he had called her ten minutes ago and told her to be downstairs in five minutes. “Where the hell are you?” She looked at her watch.
“Damn, is that America’s next top model?” Scar slithered out from whatever rock he’d been hiding under. Following him like lost puppies were his henchmen Mitch and a lanky kid everyone knew simply as Spoon. “Where you off to, the track?” He laughed and so did his boys.
“I’ll bet your mama wished she would’ve swallowed you,” Porsha capped.
“Mama ain’t swallow me, but you can. What’s up, I got twenty dollars for you to let me and my boys take turns dumping in your mouth.” Scar waved a twenty-dollar bill at her.
“Scar, youz a real punk-ass nigga. You’re always out here talking to chicks, but when them niggaz from the other side came over here you were too busy running to pop shit,” she spat. This stuck a nerve in Scar.
“What you say to me, bitch?”
“You heard me, coward.”
“I think it’s time for me to teach your tramp ass some manors.” He took a menacing step toward her.
“Scar, on my mama, if you put your hands on me I’m gonna have you locked up, after I cut you,” Porsha threatened. She was scared to death but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it.
“I’ll have knocked you out and woke you back up before the police make it here.” He grabbed her by the arm. “You’re gonna learn to respect me, bitch.” Scar raised his hand. Before he could swing, they were all bathed in the bright headlights of a red Bentley Coupe.
“What’s popping, we got a problem here?” Don B.’s voice boomed as he hopped out of the driver’s side. He was draped in a red Pelle jacket, dark jeans, and a red California Angels cap. “We got a problem?” Don B. repeated, lifting his jacket to expose the butt of the gun in his pants.
“I don’t know, do we?” Porsha looked at Scar.
Scar wisely released Porsha’s arm and took a step back. “Nah, we ain’t got no problem.” He glared at Don B.
Don B. stepped up and stood toe-to-toe with Scar. “Are you sure, because the way you’re mugging me I’d think we had a problem.” The gun dangled in his hand at his side.
“Nah, no problem, Big Dawg.” Scar gave him a sarcastic smirk.
Don B. matched his smirk before slamming the gun into the side of Scar’s head. Scar crumbled in a heap, clutching his head. Mitch and Spoon took a step toward Don B., but when he turned the gun on them they froze in place. “I wish you niggaz would.” He cocked the hammer. “You good, boo?” he asked Porsha.
Porsha kicked Scar in the ribs. “I am now.”
Don B. tucked his gun. “Let’s get outta here before one of these niggaz makes me go up top on them.” He extended his arm.
Porsha hooked her arm around his. “Ready when you are, daddy.” She smirked at the angry boys as she and Don B. walked to the Bentley.
Scar lay on the ground, fuming, as he watched the couple enter the Bentley. His head throbbed from where Don B. had cracked him with the gun, but his pride was hurt worse than anything else. He was so mad that he wanted to cry, but he held his gangsta face. Scar had been embarrassed in his hood and in front of his team. It was an offense that he couldn’t let slide. He would settle up with Porsha and eventually Don B., who before that night had been his favorite rapper.
Mitch reached down to try to help Scar off the ground. “You good?”
“Fuck from round me, nigga.” Scar swatted him away and got to his feet on his own. “That punk stole me and y’all just stood around and let it go down!”
“But he had a gun, Scar,” Spoon tried to reason.
“You’ve got a gun too, jackass.” Scar yanked up Spoon’s shirt and snatched the gun out of his pants. “Gimmie my muthafucking strap, pussy. That bitch Porsha thinks she can just style on me and I ain’t gonna do nothing? Laugh now, bitch, but you gonna cry later. Y’all bring y’all asses on and let’s put in this work.”
* * *
It was blocks before Porsha finally stopped trembling. She and Scar had never quite seen eye-to-eye, so there was no love lost between them. They had exchanged heated words on more than one occasion but it had never gotten physical. There was no doubt in her mind that Scar would’ve opened a can of whip ass on her if it hadn’t been for Don B. Porsha felt like a ghetto princess being rescued by her knight in crimson armor. She knew what other girls said about him, but at that moment she felt blessed to be by his side.
“You okay?” Don B. asked, steering with one hand and trying to light the blunt clip dangling between his lips with the other.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little bit shaken up.” Porsha ran her hand over the spot on her arm where Scar had grabbed her. “Me and Scar are always arguing, but I can’t believe he was about to hit me.”
“It’s a good thing for me and him that he didn’t, because he’d be dead and I’d be fighting a body,” Don B. told her.
“Boy, you’re wild for the night. I appreciate you stepping up for me like that, Don, but I don’t want you getting in no trouble for getting caught up in my beef.”
“Shorty, I wasn’t getting caught up in nothing. I seen homie about to jump outta bounds with a lady I love, so I put him in his place.”
Porsha did a double take. “How you figure you love me and you’ve only known me twenty-four hours?”
“Don’t flatter yourself just yet, ma. I wasn’t speaking particularly; the Don loves all the ladies, even the ones I don’t know yet.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Now enough with the small talk. Are you ready for the first night of the rest of your life?”
“Lead the way, baby.” Porsha settled into the soft leather seat and enjoyed the ride. As she watched the lights and tall buildings streak by her, Porsha couldn’t help but think that she could finally see the silver lining in her dark cloud, but elsewhere the storm was just brewing.
CHAPTER 40
Old San Juan, Puerto Rico
Animal smelled it miles before it even came into view. La Perla, also known as the slums. It was a six-hundred-meter stretch that snaked down the Atlantic coast, established around the husk of an old slaughterhouse and inhabited by some of the most dangerous criminals in the area. This was the place Cruz had chosen to hide in, and this is where he would die.
Once Grovaldo had fallen, Cruz’s men on the streets had started running around like chickens with their heads cut off. A rash of infighting had broken out between the individual crews to see who would take Grovaldo’s place as street boss and Cruz’s right hand, but they were so busy killing one another that Cruz found himself vulnerable and bolted for higher ground until the mess could be cleaned up. Everything was happening just as K-Dawg had predicted it would.
K-Dawg had pulled out all the stops on this one. An entire hit squad comprised of Los Negros Muertes and some of Poppito’s soldiers were dispatched to finish the dance and bring home the prize, which was Cruz’s head. Poppito was very specific about having Cruz’s head, and he had even offered an extra million dollars to the soldier who brought it in. Every killer on the mission was either talking about or preparing himself to claim the head and the million dollars, but not Animal. He just wanted to knock Cruz out of the box and be done with Puerto Rico as well as Los Negros Muertes.
“Do you hear me talking to you?” Chris nudged Animal. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the young man. They were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the back of a cargo van. “I asked if you were gonna try for the head and that million-dollar bounty?”
“I hadn’t really given it too much thought,” Animal said.
“Then what’s that for?” He nodded at the machete hanging from Animal’s pants.
Animal unsheathed the blade and turned in over in his hand. “Don’t wanna wake the neighbors.” He smiled. Of everyone he had met while in Puerto Rico, he had become the fondest of Chris. Sonja’s baby brother was a cool young dude whose only flaw was being reckless in his efforts to please his father, which is what had landed him in the van next to Animal on their way to commit a murder.
“You crazy.” Chris laughed. His smile soon faded and the worried expression he’d worn most of the trip returned.
“You good?” Animal asked him.
“Yeah, just got the jitters, that’s all. Animal, can I ask you something?”
“What up?”
“I ain’t trying to sound like no pussy or nothing, but do you ever get … you know … nervous before you do something like this? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve blazed at niggaz and I may have even hit a few, but this is just a flat-out slaughter and I ain’t never been on a ride like this.”
Animal turned to him. “Chris, ain’t no shame in being afraid. I’d think something was wrong with you or you were just plain stupid if you weren’t. Every time I put a gun in my hand I’m afraid, because carrying guns opens the possibility of having to use them. I can understand you being nervous, homie, because this murder thing ain’t for everybody, which is why I tried to get you to fall back when we were arming up to come out here.”
“I gotta hold my pop’s name down and show him that I can be just as helpful to him as Sonja,” Chris explained.
“Dawg, I know that’s your sister and there’s the sibling rivalry thing and all, but Sonja is a trained killer and more qualified to be out here than you are. I don’t like her being out here either, but she was the voice of your father long before I came along, so I don’t tell her about her business. I would’ve loved for Sonja to be somewhere else instead of rolling to this shit hole, but she’s here and the only thing I can do about it is watch her back and make sure she gets out the same way she came in,” Animal said seriously.
