Guilty Gucci (11 page)

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Authors: Ashley Antoinette

BOOK: Guilty Gucci
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“I can’t. I have community service at the rehab center tomorrow. I have to complete two hundred fifty hours so that I can go back to the judge and try to fight for custody of my son again,” she said.
“The director owes me a favor. You’re done with that. He’ll let the judge know you fulfilled your time. Now what’s your excuse?” he asked.
She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. She was smitten with Nahvid. Whatever she needed he could make happen and it felt good to be handled with such care for a change. “I guess I don’t have one. Can you pick me up from the center? I have to stop in for a second in the morning to handle something,” she said.
“Done, just text me when you’re ready” he replied.
Raegan nodded and he kissed her lips as he admired her beauty, noticing the way her eyes glistened with insecurity when she was unsure. He grabbed her hand and walked her back to the car, tucking her safely inside before she pulled away.
Chapter Eight
 
Raegan walked into the rehab center paranoid that the police or, better yet, Gucci’s man, would come for her at any moment. Nahvid had made good on his promise by getting her out of the community service.
As soon as I clear the air with Gucci, I’m blowing this joint,
she thought. She quickly located Gucci and walked up behind her, grabbing her hand to drag her into the ladies’ single-stall bathroom. Raegan locked the door and took a deep breath as she turned around, preparing herself for a confrontation.
“Look, Gucci ... I know you recognized me last night, but I want you to know that we were never going to hurt you. You were never in any danger,” Raegan said honestly. She reached into her purse and pulled out five stacks, handing them to Gucci. “This is half of what I earned last night,” she offered.
Gucci was hesitant to take it. She felt betrayed by Raegan. “What’s this? Hush money?” Gucci asked.
“It’s my way of saying I’m sorry,” Raegan responded.
“So what? You pretended to be cool with me so you could get to Jamie? That was your plan all along?” she asked.
“No. It wasn’t like that really,” Raegan replied.
Gucci shook her head and said, “I don’t want the money. I want in.”
“What?” Raegan exclaimed in surprise. She had not pegged Gucci as a hustler. She didn’t seem like the type. Gucci wasn’t cut from the same cloth as Raegan ... if she were, the two of them wouldn’t even be having a conversation. If the shoe were on the other foot, Raegan would have popped off on sight. Gucci was too nice ... too trusting ... and too understanding. As Raegan thought about how naive and innocent Gucci really was, a light bulb went off in her head.
She’s perfect,
Raegan thought.
They will never see her coming.
“I want in. I need a come-up, Raegan. This job is a dead end for me. Me and my mom are barely making it at home. I have to put up with bullshit from dudes like Jamie because without them I would be starving. I’m tired of it and I want in. I just want to get enough to set my mom up and send me on the first thing smoking out of this city,” Gucci said with a faraway look in her eyes.
“I’m not in this by myself. I’ll have to run it by my girl. Can we meet you somewhere? Tomorrow night?” Raegan asked.
“We can meet at my place. Maybe then you will see why I need y’all to put me on,” Gucci stated. Raegan was surprised that Gucci was singing this tale of poverty. She would have bet her bottom dollar on it that Gucci was living the champagne life, but from the look of desperation in her eye, Raegan knew that this wasn’t the case. Looks could be deceiving and Gucci had the world fooled. She was down bad and ready to climb her way to the top. Tired of watching other women get it ... envying chicks who had the world in the palms of their hands, she wanted to become a part of the big-girl club.
 
 
As Chanel sat in Gucci’s driveway, anxiety filled her gut. “I don’t know about this, Raegan. We just robbed her boyfriend,” Chanel said skeptically.
“I’m not advocating either way. If she’s in that’s cool and if she ain’t that’s fine too. Just meet her. See what type of vibe you get and then we’ll decide from there.”
When the three of them got together they clicked instantly. Their interactions were so natural that they appeared to be old friends. Gucci was so easygoing that she endeared herself to Chanel and Raegan. Her spirit was infectious and now that they had an additional set of eyes and ears, they were ready to take it to the next level.
 
 
Gucci sat inside the crack house, her eyes discreetly roaming the room as she counted the number of people in the room. She had become a regular over the past month. Playing her part and getting as much information on their victims as she possibly could. The dirty clothes she wore and her ruffled hair made her almost fit in with the fiends around her. She stood and went to cop from one of the d-boys in the kitchen. Their operation was all the way sloppy. They allowed their customers to get high in the basement so that when their highs came down they didn’t miss the second helping sell. It was this tactic that allowed the girls to catch them slipping.
Gucci kept her head low as she approached one of the young hustlers, “Can I get two twinky’s?” she asked. She handed him the twenty-dollar bill and took the beige-colored rocks out of his hand before scrambling back into the basement. She carefully searched the room until she found a young girl sitting idly in the corner. Eyes wide and shaking she was in need of a hit. She had been lingering in the dope spot all day trying to hit a lick on one of the other fiends. With no luck, she had the shakes and was irritated beyond belief. So when Gucci approached her with a proposition she jumped at the opportunity.
“Hey you trying to hit this with me,” Gucci said as she sat down next to the girl.
The girl eyed her suspiciously but all doubt was erased when she saw the twinky sitting in the palm of Gucci’s hand. She reached for it as if she were about to touch a precious art exhibit, but Gucci snapped her hand shut quickly ... right before the girl got to it.
“What you playing games for? You not even a smoker,” the girl snapped.
“You don’t know what I am,” Gucci responded harshly.
“Look I might be down bad but I’m not out. I’ve seen you in here trying to blend in but you never smoke nothing,” the girl said.
“I’ve seen you in here too ... too broke to smoke anything. Now you want this or not?” Gucci asked.
“What I got to do for it?” the girl asked.
The girl was so transfixed on Gucci’s closed palm that she couldn’t focus.
Gucci snapped her fingers. “Hey... you want it?” she asked.
“What I got to do?”
“I need you to go upstairs and cause a distraction,” Gucci whispered as she looked around to make sure no one else was listening. Despite her convincing appearance she felt naked, as if everybody in the room knew that she was present with ill intent.
“What kind of distraction?” the girl asked with a frown.
“I don’t care what you do. Just distract the niggas upstairs. A girl is going to knock on the front door. When you hear the knock ... you start,” she said.
The girl couldn’t have been a day older than eighteen. She had a bad addiction but hadn’t put enough years in on the street to realize that this was a fool’s mission. As Gucci watched her walk up the stairs she picked up her phone to let her girls know that her part of the plan had been fulfilled. Now it was up to them.
Ten smokers in basement and six guys upstairs cooking up. Guns all over the kitchen table. Money under floorboard in kitchen. Girl about to cause distraction. Come in NOW!
When Raegan read the text she relayed the message to Chanel and with adrenaline on high, they made their move. Their disguises never changed. Trench coats and high Louboutins was the getup; that way if they ever had to switch roles they could easily play the damsel in distress card.
Gucci crept up the stairs and saw the girl she had bribed approach the hustlers. Out of nowhere she fell out on the floor, knocking the boiling pots off of the stove.
“Fuck is this fiended-out bitch doing up here? Get her ass out!” one of the hustlers said irritably. “I told y’all about letting these mu’fuckas smoke in the spot anyway.”
“I think the bitch dying or something,” one of them observed.
“I don’t give a fuck ... just get the seizing-ass bitch out the kitchen. Throw her ass back in the basement and get up here and bag up this batch,” the block lieutenant ordered.
Gucci smirked knowing that the girl was putting on. She had gone all out. Gucci hurried to the back door and unlocked it, turning it quietly as she let Chanel and Raegan inside. They passed her a pistol and tied a scarf around her face.
“Don’t blow this, Guch. Just point your gun and get the money. Any nigga get stupid you pop off. We’ll ask questions later,” Raegan schooled before making her way up the landing that led to the kitchen.
“Nigga, get that bitch out of here!” the dude said, losing his patience. Raegan and the girls met him on his way down the steps and she clicked off her safety, placing the chrome .45 dead center in his forehead.
“Back the fuck up,” she ordered.
The young girl screamed out in surprise and raised her hands as Raegan and Chanel backpedaled them into the kitchen.
“Let me see them hands, gentleman! You cooperate and we leave quietly!” Raegan shouted out as Chanel and Gucci came up behind her, guns pointed. They followed her lead as they quickly gained control of the room.
“Get on the floor,” Raegan shouted.
“You know whose money you fucking with?” one of the hustlers asked as he complied, getting on his knees.
“Yeah ... mine, now get your ass down,” Raegan spat as she kicked him in the back, digging her heel into his neck as he lay helpless beneath her. She turned to the young fiend and nodded her head. “You too. Get down.”
Chanel and Gucci let their girl star in the show ... they alternated so that no one voice would become recognizable. Each one did things differently and it made them less predictable. Today was the Raegan show ... her girls were just the guest stars.
Making the men lie belly down in a circle, Raegan watched them all at once. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that their brute strength could easily overpower them. She had to depend on her pistol in order to give her the advantage. Gucci went around binding their feet and hands. Her nervous energy caused her hands to tremble, but she moved diligently, not wanting to misstep.
Chanel quickly located the floorboard and a smile spread across her face as she saw the pot. It was definitely bigger than their last hit and in her mind the money was already spent as she helped herself to their stash. She put the money and uncooked cocaine in the bag, then moved to the table and stuffed the guns inside as well.
In less than five minutes they were in and out. As they left the young girl came running out of the house behind them. They hadn’t tied her up because she didn’t pose a threat, but as Chanel turned on her heels, her finger wrapped around the trigger.
“Yo!” she shouted.
When she saw Chanel’s gun her hands went up in fear. “I just wanted my dope. She forgot to give me what she promised,” the girl said.
Raegan reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of money then tossed it to the girl. “Let’s go,” she said, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the niggas figured out a way to get loose.
“Your fingernails weren’t dirty!” the girl shouted as Raegan, Gucci, and Chanel climbed into the rental car. “That’s how I knew you weren’t a fiend! Your fingernails were too on point.”
Chanel knew that the girl was right. They would have to pay more attention to detail next time. Luckily the hustlers they had just robbed hadn’t noticed. The girls left the scene, thinking of the riches in the bag and the lovely capers to come.
Chapter Nine
 
“Nah, hey, baby, it’s me. It’s Mama.”
Nahvid looked at the number that had appeared on his cell’s caller ID when he recognized her voice.
“Where are you, Nita?” he asked concerned.
“I’m staying with a friend in Baltimore,” she said back. “Mama miss you, baby. I’m ready to come home now, Nah. I need help, baby. I’m ready to get clean. I just need some money, baby. I need a little bit of money so I can fix myself up before I see you.”
As soon as she asked for it he knew that she wasn’t serious. She was gaming him, trying to use him to get her next high. He didn’t want her out their tricking and selling her soul to the devil in order to get high. “I’ll give you some money, Nita. Just come stay with me. We’ll work on your habit, Nita. Wean you off of that shit,” he whispered.
The line was silent as if she was seriously thinking of his offer.
“I’m ready, baby. I’ma come,” she promised.
“I’ll come get you,” Nahvid said. “Where exactly are you?”
“I don’t want you coming here, Nah ... coming over here causing havoc to my friends ... like they the ones got me hooked on this shit. I did this to myself, baby. But I’ma come. I’ll be there next week. As soon as I get back in town I’m coming to you,” Nita promised.
“Is this the number I can reach you at?” he asked.
“Yeah, this my cell phone, Nah. Look at your mama with a cell phone,” she bragged with a laugh.
“I see you, old lady,” he said as he chuckled. “I love you, Nita. Keep this phone on so I can reach you. I’ll pay the bill. Who’s the carrier?” he asked. He knew that Nita would blow with the wind in a heartbeat and he wanted to be able to reach her no matter what.
“Verizon,” Nita replied.
“Promise me you’re coming,” Nahvid said seriously.
“I promise, baby. I’ll be there,” she said.

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