Heavy Pop ducked down in the driver’s seat from the hail of gunfire and pressed down on the accelerator. He blew through the red light, barely missing a passing car. The car’s horn sounded erratically.

  The Denali blew through the red light too, chasing the Yukon. Gunshots continued ringing out. The occupants weren’t cunning with their approach, but pure brutes in rage.

  Heavy Pop had control of the truck as he sped down Eastern Parkway doing sixty.

  AZ pulled out his pistol and fired wildly. He was scared!

  Bullets whizzed back and forth.

  AZ knew it was Greasy Dee and Polo. “Crazy muthafuckas!” AZ shouted.

  Bullets shattered the Yukon’s back window, puncturing the rear of the truck.

  Heavy Pop made a hard right turn toward the service road and blew through another red light, his pedal to the metal.

  The Denali tried to follow but was cut off by a passing box truck.

  By the time Greasy Dee and Polo came toward the intersection, AZ and Heavy Pop were long gone.

  Heavy Pop continued to drive fast, cutting through block after block. When they were several blocks away, both men were able to relax and exhale.

  Heavy Pop stopped the truck on Dean Street. Their truck was riddled with bullet holes, their back window and passenger window were gone, and rainwater was splashing into the vehicle. He exhaled noisily. He had his pistol in his hand and was watching out for the police and the niggas who’d shot at them. But everything seemed clear.

  “Yo, what the fuck was that?” AZ said.

  “Niggas tried to ambush us, yo.”

  AZ got out the truck, gun in hand, and looked around frantically. He didn’t care about the rain drenching down on him. His only injuries were a few minor cuts on his face from the shattered glass. It took a moment for him to collect himself. He still had an important meeting with Oscar in New Jersey.

  “Yo, let’s go,” he said to Heavy.

  “You still headin’ out that way?”

  “Yo, ain’t no life-or-death situation gonna stop the show and prevent us from gettin’ this money.” AZ was a little shaken, but he was still focused. He took a deep breath and jumped back into the truck. “Let’s go park this shit and I’ll borrow Lisa’s hooptie to get us out there.”

  The meeting with Oscar was a game-changer for them both. AZ wasn’t about to miss out on his opportunity.

  ***

  An hour later they were in Union, New Jersey. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still cloudy and gray. They parked in front of two towering waterfront condos.

  AZ stepped out. He took a deep breath as he gazed up at the buildings. “Nice,” he uttered.

  They walked inside, glided through the pristine lobby, and took the elevator to the 12th floor. Security answered the door and allowed the duo inside, but not before they were thoroughly checked for weapons.

  “He’ll be with you in a minute,” the man said.

  AZ and Heavy Pop lingered in the living room. They didn’t look like they were just in a shootout. They were calm and ready to conduct business.

  The glass balcony allowed an incredible view of New York City’s skyline. They were so far up, it felt like they were standing on a giant’s back.

  “Gentlemen,” Oscar greeted them from behind.

  AZ and Heavy Pop turned around.

  Oscar, dressed sharply in a three-piece suit, welcomed the men into his home with a formal handshake. He was handsome with a chiseled look about him, dark hair, and light caramel brown skin.

  He gestured to the marble table and club chairs in the room. “Have a seat. Let’s talk.”

  Oscar sat opposite of them, lit a cigar, and took a few puffs. He sat back in the club chair with his legs crossed. “I’ve heard some good things about you, AZ.”

  “I hope good enough to make us both happy today,” AZ said.

  “Let’s talk business then. As you know, I don’t do anything less than five ki’s.”

  “I understand that, and I’m ready to make magic happen.”

  “Magic, huh?”

  Heavy Pop, there for show and support, remained quiet in the room.

  AZ leaned forward with his elbows in his lap and hands clasped together. He looked at Oscar and went to work on sealing a good deal with the man. He usually moved ten to twenty pounds of weed a month and three to six kilos. He needed to upgrade.

  By the end of the meeting, they both agreed to ten kilos of cocaine and fifty pounds of weed, half of it on consignment. They shook on it.

  With a new connection made and so much weight to distribute, AZ had to protect the empire he was trying to build, so he knew he had to deal with Greasy Dee and Polo real soon.

  TWELVE

  Word on the streets was that AZ and Heavy Pop ran like bitches after getting into a shootout with Greasy Dee and Polo. Greasy Dee was running his mouth, threatening AZ’s life. It became the talk of the town. Greasy Dee made it known that he was looking for AZ and his friend. He continued to call AZ out, disrespecting him and slandering his name through Brooklyn and elsewhere, calling him a bitch and a faggot.

  AZ quickly tried to tell his side of the story, telling anyone who was listening how he almost pushed Greasy Dee’s wig back and wasn’t afraid to buss his gun. But everyone knew that actions speak louder than words.

  AZ had a serious problem on his hands. He understood that if he didn’t do something immediately, maybe squash his beef with Greasy Dee, then he wouldn’t be able to rise up and keep his respect. AZ felt like the streets were watching him closely and trying to pull his gangster card.

  AZ smoked his thick blunt in Aoki’s living room, exhaling the smoke and looking troubled about his beef with Greasy Dee. He told her about the shootout with Greasy Dee as he sat on her couch.

  “It just happened, Aoki. We didn’t even see it comin’. Niggas just rolled up on us on Eastern Parkway and opened fire. What was we supposed to do? I shot back, but they kept on coming, so we fuckin’ got outta there.”

  Aoki sat next to him in a long T-shirt and tube socks, her hair wrapped up tightly underneath her night scarf. She looked plain and cute. It was late, and she was ready for bed. AZ had the right to come visit her at any hour, and she didn’t care what she looked like in front of him. She’d heard about the incident through the grapevine, but now she was hearing the details from the horse’s mouth.

  She looked him square in the face. “Ya should ’ave killed dem in dat lobby. Now everybody’s watchin’ ya, an ya need ta react. Ya understand?”

  AZ mulled it over. He sighed heavily and looked at her. “You think killin’ someone is that easy?”

  “It should be, especially in ya line of work.”

  “I’m many things, Aoki, but I don’t think I’m that. I don’t think I’m a killer,” AZ said, being honest with her. She was the only person he could be honest with. Well, not completely.

  Aoki didn’t understand it or him at that moment.

  “They respect me out here because of my hand skills, because I can box my ass off and knock niggas out. I was no joke growing up, made a lot of niggas scared of me. And I get money. But the game done changed, Aoki. I’m older, and these niggas out here are fiercer. They’re killers.”

  “An wah are ya?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Scared? Wah make ya scared? Dat mon bleed just like you. Ya understand me, AZ?”

  “I just didn’t want to take it to this level.”

  “Well, it at dat level now.” Aoki shook her head at her friend. She just didn’t get it. Killing should be easy. She’d assumed that all drug dealers were coldblooded killers, but she had him all wrong.

  “Me do it fah ya,” she said, smiling.

  “What?” AZ asked, confused.

  “Me say, me do it fah ya,” she repeated, but this time she wasn’t smiling.

  AZ didn’t take her seriously at first, but the way Aoki looked at him, her eyes serious like cancer, he knew she wasn’t joking with him. He sat up erect from the couch and looked at her.

  “Can you really do it, for real?”

  “Fah a small fee.”

  AZ sat quietly for a moment and thought about it. He nodded. He was more than cool with it. He looked at her and said, “If you can do this favor for me, I’ll pay you five thousand dollars.”

  Aoki smiled. “Dat’s cool. I’m ready.”

  Aoki didn’t want to just get by on her father’s checks. Besides, she wasn’t sure how long the checks would last before the system caught on that he wasn’t the one making the deposits and the withdrawals. She was also tired of being a drug mule for AZ. It was punk money to her.

  AZ stood up and finished smoking his blunt. Once again, he asked, “You sure about this?”

  With the coldness and gravity in her eyes showing, she responded, “Ya me bredren, AZ. Ya problem is my problem.”

  They hugged each other.

  AZ was confident that Aoki would get the job done. He looked in her backyard and saw the two barrels still there, her dead parents still rotting away inside them.

  AZ walked out of Aoki’s home feeling a little of the weight lifted from his shoulders. He hoped that he wasn’t putting his friend in any danger. Greasy Dee and Polo were two dangerous men, but Aoki was a force to be reckoned with. He saw it in her eyes. She was ready for this.

  AZ climbed into his truck and drove away. He jumped on the Belt Parkway toward the Cross Island Parkway and then sped onto the L.I.E. and headed toward Riverhead. He was on his way to see Connor to spend some quality time with him. AZ had a lot of pent-up energy inside of him, and he was ready to let go and have some fun. He wanted to take his mind off the streets and his troubles.

  THIRTEEN

  Aoki sat for hours in her bedroom contemplating how to kill Greasy Dee and Polo. She remembered seeing them drive around in a black Denali, and those two meatheads weren’t hard to miss. Aoki was ready to earn the five thousand AZ promised her. There was no way she was going to fail with the hit. So she thought hard and tried to come up with a foolproof way of slaughtering the two thugs without getting caught.

  She would need help. And the only help she could think of was Tisa and Rihanna. Would they be down for the kill? Probably not.

  She got on the phone with Tisa and Rihanna and invited them over.

  The girls came over, and Aoki was all smiles and laughs. They ordered Chinese food and watched horror movies. Tisa and Rihanna smoked several blunts and drank. And they reminisced about the good times and the bad.

  Tisa brought up AZ’s beef with Greasy Dee. And then, in the middle of it all, Aoki brought up Brownsville, suggesting that they all go and chill in that neighborhood.

  “Brownsville?” Tisa asked. “Why go there?”

  “Because I want to,” Aoki responded.

  Aoki convinced them to go to Brownsville with her, claiming she wanted to see a friend in the Howard Housing project.

  Tisa and Rihanna were cautious about trekking to that part of town. Brownsville was a rough neighborhood, its motto, Brownsville, never ran and never will! The streets and projects were more dilapidated than their own area, and the Pink Houses on Linden Boulevard was nothing compared to crime-ridden Van Dyke Houses or the Howard Houses.

  It was late in the afternoon when Aoki and her friends got out of a gypsy cab on Pitkin Avenue, all three girls looking too cute. Rihanna and Tisa wore short shorts and close-fitting shirts highlighting their tits. Of course, Aoki wore a romper and her high heels, strutting on the Brooklyn sidewalk like she was on the catwalk at Fashion Week in the city.

  They went in and out of the bodegas, buying snacks, catching the boys’ attention. As they crossed the streets, car horns blew at them. They accepted the attention. Even a few bitches gave them hateful glances.

  Aoki ate the attention up. It was what she was looking for. But she was looking for certain attention from certain people. It was the reason why she was in that hood and armed with her pocketknife.

  The girls spent several hours in Brownsville after running into a few chicks they knew. Ultimately the trio ended up sharing a few blunts on the project bench with Sink, an associate of AZ who wanted to bag Rihanna.

  ***

  Two days later, Aoki and her crew were back in Brownsville. She noticed Greasy Dee and Polo drive by them in their Denali. Greasy Dee looked her way, but he didn’t stop. He kept it moving, like he had some important business to attend to. Aoki was patient.

  Rihanna and Tisa had no idea why Brownsville had gotten Aoki’s attention, but they were going with the flow. They loved the attention, especially Tisa. She collected numbers and flirted with all the hustlers that came her way.

  For a week, Brownsville became the ladies’ stomping grounds. Sometimes they went shopping for knickknacks, and sometimes they chilled with Sink and his peoples in the Howard Houses. Aoki was determined to get Greasy Dee’s attention. Her outfits became sexier and sexier, and she was taking risks. Greasy Dee would drive by, but he didn’t stop to holler at them.

  On the seventh day, Aoki was coming out of the bodega on E. New York Avenue when she noticed Greasy Dee and Polo seated in their Denali on the corner and talking with a certain individual. Greasy Dee turned and looked Aoki’s way. They locked eyes. Aoki remained deadpan.

  Greasy Dee nodded and smiled, and then he called her over from the passenger seat. “Yo, ma, let me holla at you.”

  Bingo!

  Aoki’s white Seven jeans were extra tight and her silky long hair was shining. Rihanna and Tisa walked out of the store to see that Aoki had the attention of AZ’s rival. All three of the girls soon had Greasy Dee and Polo’s attention. Polo was seated behind the steering wheel, smoking a cigarette and looking extra shady.

  The two men looked at Aoki and her friends like they were a juicy steak on a dinner plate. Aoki was exotic and beautiful—just his type. Aoki walked over with boldness and her eyes fixated on Greasy Dee. She was on a mission. Reluctantly, Tisa and Rihanna followed behind her.

  Greasy Dee was transfixed by Aoki’s beauty. Aoki walked toward the Denali and smiled. Greasy stepped out of the truck and went toward her, saying, “I’ve been seein’ you around, ma, looking sexy and shit. What’s ya name, ma?”

  “Tina,” Aoki lied. “An where ya go? Me gwon too.”

  Her Jamaican accent came out extra thick, making Greasy Dee’s dick jump.

  “Shit, you sexy wit’ an accent like that, ma. Damn, you from Jamaica, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Tina, I like that,” he said.

  Rihanna and Tisa stood in the background and were taken aback by Aoki’s sudden kindness to Greasy Dee. Both men were drooling, craving and lusting over the young girls. Tisa and Rihanna both rolled their eyes and were ready to go. They didn’t want to be around the two ugly thugs. They also didn’t like their grimy ways. Rihanna and Tisa were shocked that Aoki was engaging in a conversation with Greasy Dee. They both felt she was disrespecting AZ by talking to him and flirting with him.

  “Yo, why ya friends so quiet?” Polo asked.

  “Why don’t ya ask dem yourself?”

  “I’m sayin’, we don’t bite, right?” Polo said.

  Rihanna sucked her teeth.

  Polo looked at Rihanna and said, “I like ya friend.” He was definitely feeling her look.

  Aoki continued conversing with Greasy Dee. She put on an Oscar-winning performance by smiling in his face and being touchy-feely, touching his chest and his arms, and complimenting him on his manliness.

  “Yo, ma, you and ya girls wanna go fo’ a ride?” he asked.

  “Me don’t mind. Let’s go,” Aoki said quickly.

  “What?” Rihanna said. “You serious?”

  “Give me a minute.” Aoki walked over to her friends and said, “Me know wah me doin’. Let’s just go for de ride and chill. I got this.”

  “I hope so,” Rihanna said back.

  Grudgingly, the girls climbed into the Denali with the two men.

  Greasy Dee and Polo were greatly pleased.

  “Let’s do this,” Polo said.

  Aoki got in the passenger seat, while Polo climbed into the backseat with the girls to keep them company.

  Greasy Dee pulled away from the curb and shared a subtle look with Polo via the rearview mirror that said, It’s on!

  The guys drove into the city to midtown Manhattan where they had dinner at the Crab House on 43rd Street.

  Once Tisa and Rihanna had a couple of cocktails in their system, they started to loosen up. They flirted back with the men, laughed and smiled in their faces.

  Rihanna didn’t mind that Polo had his hand on her thigh and tried to fondle her pussy underneath the table. Polo also held conversation with Tisa too, while Greasy Dee and Aoki seemed to be in their own little world, making what looked like the perfect connection. Also, Polo didn’t know which one of the girls he liked more, so he was willing to take them both.

  After dinner and many drinks, they drove back into Brooklyn, crossing over the Williamsburg Bridge. It was after midnight, and the traffic was light.

  Aoki continued to flirt with Greasy Dee. She was all over him as he drove, kissing the side of his neck, groping his manhood, and stroking his ego to the point of no return. She had him so hard, it showed in his jeans.

  Polo kept Rihanna and Tisa company in the backseat. He kissed them both and was ready to shed their clothing and ask for a blowjob.

  “Baby, do me ah favor an’ stop by me aunt’s place,” Aoki said out of the blue.

  Tisa and Rihanna were bugging.

  Tisa blurted out, “What aunt are you talkin’ about?”

  Aoki shot Tisa a sharp look, and she and Rihanna quickly began to play along.

  “Oh, you talkin’ ’bout ya aunt Shug. How she doing anyway?” Tisa said.

  “She’s been sick. Since we in de neighborhood, me just wan’ to say ’ello to her.”

 

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