Street Fame (Real in the streets) Read online

  Twin looked at the girls with a disgusted look then whispered to JoJo, “Thirsty bitches.”

  Big Red, the ecstasy dealer from the south side, walked up to JoJo. “What’s up, nigga?”

  “Nothing much.”

  “Hey, man, I need some of those butterflies.”

  “We ain’t selling the butterflies.”

  “Why not?”

  “Cuz, that’s how we make our money.”

  “Listen, man, everybody wants the butterflies, and you give me this dolphin bullshit.”

  “I can’t help you, man.”

  “I will give you twelve dollars a pill, but I want twenty thousand pills.”

  “You got $240,000?”

  “Listen, I got it, man. I just need the product.”

  JoJo pulled Tommy to the side. “Hey, that’s my nigga, Big Red, right there. He wants twenty thousand butterflies.”

  “He got the money for them?”

  “Yeah. He even said he would pay twelve dollars a pill.”

  Tommy figured the profit in his head. “When does he need them?”

  “Now.”

  “Well, you know we don’t have them now, but we can get them in a couple of days for him.”

  “Cool. I’ll tell him.” JoJo stepped over to Red. “Hey, I can get the pills to you by Wednesday.”

  “That’s cool,” Red said. “I’ll buy the next two bottles of champagne.”

  ***** JoJo called Robert A. Moray, the name on the business card. The robbery had been on his mind ever since it had occurred. Some guy answered the phone on the first ring.

  “Hey. Good morning to you, sir. I’m JoJo.”

  “Good morning. How can I help you?”

  “Just wondering if I could come by your place of business to look

  at some appliances.”

  “I don’t work like that. You tell me what you want, and I can bring

  it by your house for you to look at.”

  “Why can’t I come by your spot to look at what I’m buying?” “Either we do business my way or no way,” Moray said. “Okay, I need a washer and dryer.”

  “You want the washer-dryer combination or you want them separate?” “The combination.”

  “Okay, where do you live?”

  “I live downtown at the Summit Grandview Apartments.” “On Morehead?”

  “Yeah.”

  Moray took a deep breath. “That’s a long way from me. Can we

  meet somewhere closer?”

  “Where are you coming from?”

  “Pine Valley.”

  “Okay, let’s meet at the car wash on Clanton Road.” “That’s still kinda far, but I guess I can make it there.” “How long will it take you?”

  “I can be there in thirty minutes,” Moray said.

  “See you in thirty.”

  JoJo grabbed his .45 from the bedroom closest then loaded it.

  ***** Moray was there already, in a white commercial van that advertised Moray’s Used Appliances. He was sitting on the bumper of the van when JoJo pulled up. He looked to be in his fifties. His hair was peppered with gray, braided, and slightly thinning at the top. He was wearing a white T-shirt. His arms were covered with tattoos and he was smoking a Newport.

  “JoJo?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m Robert.” He extended his hand.

  JoJo shook his hand, and then he examined Robert. “The washer and dryer is on the back of the van.”

  “Okay, first I have to call my wife. I want her to come and look at it.” “What kind of bullshit is this?” Moray said. He puffed his Newport.

  “Hell, if I had known this, I wouldn’t have even came here.” “Calm down, man. I have to do this if I’m going to spend money

  with you.”

  “Man, this ain’t no house you buying; this is just a funky-ass washer

  and dryer, and you gotta consult your wife?”

  JoJo didn’t say anything; he just ducked into his car, called

  Tommy and Twin, and told them to come to the carwash. Moray was on his third Newport when the Yukon Denali pulled

  up. “What the hell is going on here, man? You ain’t trying to rob me,

  are you?”

  “Calm down, Mr. Moray.”

  “Calm down? What the hell is going on? You tell me that your

  wife is coming; the next thing I know, you have your fucking crew

  come up here.” Moray threw his cigarette down but lit another one. Tommy and Twin walked up to Robert.

  JoJo introduced them. “These are my friends, Tommy and Twin. Moray squinted his eyes. “Why are they here?”

  “Well, you see, Robert, there has been a robbery.”

  “What the fuck does that have to do with me?”

  JoJo opened the car door and pulled out the jacket, “See this

  jacket?”

  “Yeah… but I’m still not getting it.”

  “This was found at the scene of the crime.”

  “Okay… and?” Moray said, and puffed the cigarette.

  “Your business cards were found in the jacket.”

  “Let me see the jacket,” Moray said.

  JoJo passed him the jacket. Moray tried putting the jacket on. It

  was too big. “Okay, this jacket doesn’t fit. Now what?”

  “Your business cards was found in the jacket,” JoJo said then

  passed him one of the business cards.

  Moray looked at the cards. “Yeah, these are the cards. These

  are the same cards that I made two weeks ago on my computer.” “Whose jacket is this?” Tommy asked.

  Moray looked at Tommy with intense eyes. “Now how in the hell

  would I know some shit like that? I don’t know whose jacket this is.

  Look at it. This is some shit that you young hip-hoppers wear, man.

  I’m fifty-one years old. Believe me—this ain’t my shit.”

  “So, whose shit is it?”

  “I don’t know. Somebody has tried to set me up.”

  “That’s for damn sho,” Tommy said.

  “And you see, Mr. Moray, you can very well get your fuckin head

  blown off for some shit that you claim you don’t know anything about,”

  JoJo said.

  Moray threw his hands up. “I don’t know anything about this shit.

  Really, I don’t.”

  “Okay, cool. You don’t know anything about this shit, but you

  know somebody. Who the fuck have you given a card to?” Tommy

  asked.

  Moray put his hand underneath his chin.

  Tommy pulled out his 9 mm, but didn’t point it.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Moray, my girl was raped by the same muthafucka that robbed

  his sister.”

  “I remember giving some cards to this nigga in the pawn shop …

  short, rough- looking guy with braids. Real grimy looking cat. Looked

  almost like a crackhead.”

  “This guy was dark skinned?” Tommy said.

  “How do you know?” Moray asked.

  “I seen him,” Tommy said. “The nigga had me tied up.” “Well, if you seen him, you know that I’m not who you’re looking

  for.”

  “We know that, but we know you might know who he is.” “Let me see the jacket again,” Moray asked.

  JoJo passed the jacket to Moray.

  He hesitated before speaking. “You know what? This is my son’s

  jacket.”

  “Who is your son?”

  “My son Lee ain’t no robber, though. The nigga is a square.” “We didn’t ask you this; I just want to know who your son is.” “Hey, man, like I said, my son ain’t no robber.”

  “Let us be the judge of that,” JoJo said angrily.

  Moray pulled his cell phone out then dialed his son’s number. His son answered the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, my ass. I want to kn
ow why the fuck was your jacket at the

  scene of a robbery.”

  “What jacket?”

  “Your Phat Farm jacket.”

  “I haven’t seen that jacket in almost two weeks.”

  “Did you loan it to somebody.”

  “No, not that I remember.”

  “Somebody is trying to set you up, Lee,” Moray said. JoJo snatched the phone from him.

  “You better explain why the fuck your jacket was at my sister’s

  house or else I’mma fuck your dad up.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about blowing your daddy’s brains out if you don’t tell

  me why your jacket was found at my sister house after it had been

  broken into.”

  Moray pulled out another Newport and lit it on the wrong end. “Hey, let me think.”

  Tommy cocked the hammer of his gun then put the gun to Moray’s

  head.

  “Nigga, did you hear that? My man has the gun up to your daddy’s

  head.” JoJo put the phone up to Moray’s mouth.

  “Son, tell them what you know.”

  JoJo jerked the phone away from Moray’s mouth. “You hear your

  daddy, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, what do you know?”

  “Jason did it. Jason Black. Do you know him?”

  JoJo looked at Tommy and Twin. “Jason Black … Do this name

  sound familiar to you?”

  “No, not to me,” Twin said promptly.

  “No, I ain’t never heard of him.”

  “Where the fuck does Jason live?” JoJo asked.

  “I don’t know, but I can find out,” Lee said. “Please don’t hurt my

  old man.”

  “You got a number I can reach Jason at?”

  “Yeah, it’s 704-555-8777.”

  “A’ight. I’m letting your old man go if this number works.” JoJo

  terminated the call then dialed Jason’s number. Nobody answered.

  A Fifty Cent song played on his voice mail. Then JoJo heard a voice.

  “Yo, this is Black. Leave your digits and I might hit ya back.” JoJo dialed again.

  This time a man said, “Hello.” The same voice that was on the

  voice mail. “Yeah, this is Black. Who the fuck is this, blowing up my

  phone?”

  “Who the fuck is this?”

  “Muthafucka, you called me.”

  “Okay, I need to see you. I think you might know something about

  a robbery that occurred at my sister’s house.”

  “Nigga, who the fuck is you, and who the hell is yo sister?” “Can you meet me somewhere?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Joe, Joe Ingram.”

  “I ain’t meeting nobody unless you got some money. My time is

  valuable.”

  “You coward-ass muthafucka.”

  “Fuck you, nigga. J-Black ain’t afraid of nobody. I will fuck you up.” “Bring your guns, nigga.”

  “I got plenty of them.”

  Tommy grabbed the phone from JoJo. “Let me speak to him. I

  know his voice.”

  “Who the fuck is this?” J-Black said.

  “This is the guy you tied up.”

  “I’ve tied up so many coward-ass niggas in my day.”

  “You raped my girlfriend.”

  “Oh…” Black chuckled. “This is that fat muthafucka from the lake,

  huh?”

  “Exactly. Why don’t you meet us somewhere? I need to ask you

  some questions.”

  “Fuck you, Nigga. I ain’t meeting you nowhere.”

  “Okay. We got your number; you know we can get your address.” “I don’t give a fuck. I ain’t running nowhere.” He hung up. Tommy passed the phone back to JoJo.

  JoJo called Lee. “I want you to show us where Jason Black lives.” “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he will kill me. That’s why.”

  “Hey, man, this shit ain’t worth it,” Twin finally said. “I mean, we’re

  making money again; let’s leave this alone.”

  “Either you show us where this nigga live or we gonna hurt your

  dad, nigga.”

  Moray looked as if he was about to run.

  “Where are you?”

  “Carwash on Clanton Road.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Chapter 18

  Lee was driving an old black pickup truck. He resembled Moray, except he was taller and wore glasses. He hopped out of the truck.

  Twin was the first to approach him. They shook hands. “You think this Black nigga is dangerous, huh?”

  “Yeah, man. This muthafucka is a loose cannon, man. He will seriously hurt somebody.”

  “Twin, why are you acting like a pussy, man?” Tommy asked.

  “I ain’t acting. I just want to know what we up against.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what we up against; we got a Glock 9, two .45 street sweepers, and shit that will blow your whole back out.”

  “Man, we’re making money. If we kill this muthafucka, we going to jail and ain’t nobody going to have shit.”

  “But if we let him get away, this muthafucka is going to think he can take from us,” Tommy said.

  “Show us where J-Black lives,” JoJo said to Lee.

  ***** Black was across the street from his home, inside an abandoned house, watching, looking out the window for any unusual activities. He’d been threatened. He’d been taught from his years in the pen to take every threat seriously. The last time he’d taken a threat lightly, it had cost him a razor wound across the neck while on the inside. He’d been extorting a loan shark named E, taking twenty-five percent of his receivables until D-Rock came on the yard. D-Rock told E not to give J-Black anything, and that he was going to slice his throat if he extorted E again.

  E had gone about two months without giving up percentages. When J-Black’s commissary got low he finally approached E and took half the commissary in his locker. Later that evening, when JBlack was on the recreation yard, D-Rock crept up and slashed his neck. Black received eighty-eight stitches. He was also put in solitary confinement because he had refused to name the assailant. The scar was a reminder that he wasn’t invincible. He vowed that nobody would ever catch him off guard again.

  He lit a cigarette and loaded his sawed-off pump shotgun. He wasn’t in the mood to die—not today. This isn’t the way his book would end. There would be no one to carry on his legacy. He didn’t have kids. His mother had died while he was on the inside.

  Only a few cars passed by. Most were going to old man Roscoe’s house to get a sack of weed. Black lit another cigarette and was just about to cross the street when a black pickup truck drove down the street. He smiled because he recognized the truck. It was cowardass Lee. He saw Lee slow down and point at his house.

  An SUV full of black men slowed and finally stopped in front of the building. J-Black recognized Tommy and Twin. Okay, that bitchass Lee is showing these niggas where I lay my head. He wanted to run out there and blast at the truck but decided against it because he was only packing a shotgun, and they probably had automatic weapons.

  ***** Exactly nine days later, JoJo received a call from Robert Moray at 6:30 in the morning. He talked to Moray for a few minutes, half asleep.

  Moray said, “My son Lee is in the hospital. He was shot by JBlack.”

  “What?” JoJo said, then stood and walked across the room with the cordless phone.

  “Yeah, he’s been shot in his ass.”

  “What … when did this happen?”

  “It happened last night. He was out with his friend at the pool hall down the street from my house. J-Black came up to him after the others left and said he’d seen Lee show y’all where he lived. Words were exchanged and J-Black went back to
his car and got a shotgun. Lee ran, but he still managed to get hit.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s okay, but he’s probably going to need physical therapy.”

  “Well, that’s good.” JoJo sat back on the bed.

  “That’s not good. This man shot my son, and he sent word to y’all that he knows where you live, and that he’s going to get y’all if it’s the last thing he does.”

  “Fuck him. I don’t give a fuck about him.”

  “Hey, I’m just relaying the message.”

  ***** Jennifer sat in the kitchen drinking an apple martini. Morgan came over with some Nike pills that had been stolen from the crew. They sipped Martinis and popped pills until they both were horny as hell.

  Morgan rubbed Jennifer’s thighs and got a rush from it. Though Jennifer was a stripper, she’d never been with another woman, which was something she prided herself on. She moved Morgan’s hand from her leg. “I don’t fuck with women.”

  Morgan looked a little annoyed. “I don’t fuck with women, either, but I’m feeling so good, I just want to kiss you. You’re so beautiful. I feel beautiful. Can I just rub your thigh?”

  Jennifer looked at Morgan for a second. “My boyfriend might come in.”

  “We’ll let him join. Come on. What man wouldn’t want to join two blondes?”

  “Let’s go upstairs and get my toys.”

  Upstairs, Jennifer got a dildo and stripped to her panties.

  Morgan had taken all of her clothes off. She walked over, put her arms around Jennifer, and kissed her neck before Jennifer turned and french kissed her.

  They kissed slow and passionately before reaching the bed.

  Jennifer lay on the bed with her legs spread apart.

  Morgan took the dildo and pushed it in Jennifer’s vagina.

  “Harder and faster,” Jennifer said. “Right there. That’s the spot. That’s the spot.

  Morgan moved the dildo in and out of Jennifer. She was actually feeling pleasure from it, but it wasn’t the same kind of pleasure she was used to. She liked for a man to just take control of her and throw her around, pull her hair, slap her ass, and bite her nipples.

  Morgan stopped, put her head between Jennifer’s legs and performed oral sex.

  Jennifer humped Morgan’s face three times before saying, “Stop.” “What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, confused.