Larceny (21 page)

“Well, yeah and no, but I'll fill you in when I get there.”

“You're okay, though, right?” Bilal asked.

“Most definitely, nigga. I told you I'm like Double-O Seven.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“What time you coming over?” Bilal asked.

“Soon as I eat my breakfast.”

“Where you at anyway, nigga?”

“I'm over a friend's house.”

“Who?”

“Her name is Sonya.”

“You talking about that female you met in the courthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn, slim, you work fast, don't you?”

“I wouldn't call it that. I'd just say it was something destined to happen.”

After Jovan got off the phone with Bilal, he ate the veggie omelet Sonya had cooked and drank some freshly made orange juice. Sonya just sat there looking at him.

“What's wrong?” Jovan asked her, enjoying his breakfast.

“Nothing,” she said, smiling.

“Then why you looking at me like that?”

“You just don't know, Jovan.”

“Know what?”

“You don't have a clue what you're doin' to me.”

“Yes, I do, and I feel the same way about you,” Jovan said.

“I hope so.”

“Look, I've got some business to take care of this morning. Then I'm going to the gym. What are you going to do today?” Jovan asked.

“Germain and me were gonna go to Chevy Chase Pavilion and do a little shopping.”

“So am I gonna see you later on?”

“Jovan, you can see me whenever you want.”

“I'ma call you after the gym. Maybe we can repeat last night,” Jovan said, grinning.

“I like that idea,” Sonya said, also grinning. They laughed, kissed, and said their good-byes.

“Oh, Jovan, I forgot to tell you that's a nice watch you have.”

“Yeah, I had to confiscate it from a client who couldn't pay his bill,” Jovan lied.

 

 

On Jovan's way over to Bilal's house he was putting his plan together on how he was going to deal with Chicken Wing. Only thing he knew about Chicken Wing was that he loved hood rat bitches. He didn't know where he lived at or nothing. He didn't even know if this nigga had a baby momma or not. Only thing Jovan knew was that he hung around Trinidad and drove a black Porsche. Damn, he had to think of something quick. Even though Petey was dead, Chicken Wing still may have had something planned for Bilal.

Before Jovan got on the highway to Bilal's, he stopped in Georgetown and went to Up Against The Wall. He saw this nice blue-and-white DKNY spandex gym suit with a matching baseball cap and thought it would be perfect for Sonya. Even though mostly hood rats wore this, he bought it anyway. Jovan also bought a pair of thick DKNY shades. He went down to the sex store beside Houston's Restaurant and brought a few things and then got back on the highway and headed to Bilal's house.

When Jovan reached Bilal's, the only cars he saw sitting out on the lawn were his MPV van and Meeka's Lexus coupe.

Bilal greeted Jovan at the door.

“Hey, Lal, what happened to all your cars?” Jovan asked him, looking around.

“I went out to Eagle Motors this morning and sold all that shit back to 'em.”

“What'd they give you for them?”

“Four hundred fifty thousand all together.”

“Damn, Lal, they got over on you,” Jovan said, amazed that he had settled for such a low price.

“Not really, Jay. Only by like about fifty to seventy-five thousand.”

“Well, anyway I'm glad you got rid of all that shit.”

“Me too, Jay. I'm serious about this Atlanta thing.”

Jovan went into his van, got out the Hugo Boss sweat suit and New Balance 996 tennis shoes he had bought the other day, and then they went downstairs to talk. Jovan told him about how he had hid under Petey's car and how he heard them talking about robbing and killing him. He talked about how he had shot Petey in his nuts first, and the way he was looking at him when he did it.

“Damn, Jay, you shot him in the nuts?” Bilal said.

“I had to make him know not to ever fuck with my family.”

“Yeah, slim, from what you telling me, you straight punished that nigga.”

“Yeah, and guess what, Lal? The whole time I was doing this shit, my broad was in the party thinking I'm in the lobby talking to a client.”

“Damn, Jay, you smooth as shit!”

“I told you, Lal, I'm like James Bond!”

“Yeah, and outta all the killers in the city, can't none of 'em fuck with you. Now, I've heard of niggas doin' similar shit, but none of it was as smooth as yours, and what makes your work tighter is nobody never knew you did it, and besides that fact, you're a fuckin' lawyer.”

“Not yet, Bilal,” Jovan said, reminding him once again that he was not a lawyer yet.

“Yeah, but soon though, Jay. Anyway, this is what's up: while you lay the demonstration down on Chicken Wing, I'ma send this money down to Mexico. We got six million now, and I'ma cop with three and hold the other three back. I want you to take the other three with you and put it up over Grandma Price house.”

“Why?”

“'Cause I'm 'bout to sell the house.”

“Good idea.”

“After I get these bricks, it may take me about three weeks to get rid of 'em. Jay, we can make eight point five million on this, and I sell the house for a cool three and a half, plus the three you holdin', that's fifteen million altogether.”

“Man, Lal, I got a suggestion.”

“What's up, Jay?”

“Look, we already got six plus the house. Why don't we just sell the house and keep the six? That's ten million, and we can step off with that. Fuck the extra five mil. You know the feds try'na get at you, and ain't no sense to keep hustling, slim. We can get the money and step off, go somewhere and do this shit legally, man,” Jovan said to Bilal.

“I already got all my clientele waiting for me to get down. Shit, Jay, I already got at least three million as soon as I get the shit. These niggas out here hungry. Niggas ain't got nothing, and the ones who do can't beat my prices, so everybody coming straight to me. Two to three weeks tops, Jay, and we're gone. Remember, I'm the hustler. I know what the fuck I'm doing. I've been doing this shit since '91, and look how far it got us.”

“Okay, Lal, whatever you say. It sounds good. Three weeks for an extra five mil. I can't argue with you on that. When you say you copping again?”

“I got these two suitcases full of money. I'm taking 'em to my carriers today. My shit should be here first thing in the morning.”

“I need to take a shower, Lal.”

“You ain't take no shower over that girl's house?”

“Yeah, but I really wasn't washing up. I was laying down the pipe.”

“You a trip, Jay. Use the shower upstairs. It got a Jacuzzi in it too.”

“Naw, I don't need all that, but I can use a razor.”

“Just look in the cabinet. There's some brand new razors in there.”

 

 

After Jovan took his shower, he shaved off his goatee and mustache, put on his clothes, and headed for Trinidad. Before he left, he paged Sonya, and she called right back. Jovan thought,
Damn, I musta really put it on her, but little did she know she put it on me also
. Sonya was the baddest and sexiest female he'd ever had, and to be honest, she had the best pussy ever.

“Hello.”

“Baby, what's up, sweetheart?”

“You,” Sonya said.

“Is that right?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Price.”

“Hey, look, what time you gonna go up Wisconsin Avenue to Chevy Chase Pavillion?”

“What time is it now?”

“Almost twelve thirty.”

“We should be finished by two o'clock. You wanna meet me somewhere?”

“If you want you can tell Germain to drop you off at the gym. I'll be finished working out by then.”

“Which gym are you going to be at?”

“Finley's boxing gym on Tenth Street.”

“Oh, I know were that's at. My li'l brother Tony used to box for Mr. Finley.”

“Okay, boo. I'll see you then.”

“Oh, Jovan.”

“What's up, baby?”

“Don't be letting anybody mess your handsome face up.”

“Boo, you must not be hip to my work. I'm like Mike Tyson when it comes down to that,” Jovan said, laughing.

 

 

It was one fifteen when Jovan got around Trinidad. He pulled his van around the corner at the top of Sixteenth Street and looked around for a second to scope out the scenery. After he saw that there were no spectators around, mainly because it was still early in the day, he jumped in the back seat of the van, pulled out the binoculars he previously had from when he killed Fat Mike, and focused them perfectly.

As Jovan looked down Sixteenth Street, he spotted Chicken Wing's car. He looked over to the left and saw two guys standing in front of their stash house. Chicken Wing was nowhere in sight. A gold four-door Acura Legend pulled up and the driver rolled down the window to talk to the two guys out front. One guy yelled toward the house, and Chicken Wing came out front.

The dudes in the Acura got out. They looked familiar, and as Jovan beamed in closer he could see that it was Big Poo and Fats. They were talking to Chicken Wing. Poo reached in his car, pulled out a bag, and gave it to Chicken Wing. It was obvious this was a drug transaction taking place.

After Poo and Fats left, Chicken Wing stayed out front and sat with the other two guys. Jovan assumed that Chicken Wing had gotten everything Petey left behind and was selling the remaining bricks before he put his lick down on Bilal.

As they sat out front, Jovan was changing his clothes in the back of the van. He put on the DKNY spandex suit he had bought from Up Against the Wall, and he put on the ass pads and fake tittie bra he had bought from the sex store. Jovan then put on the ponytail wig he got from the costume shop in Georgetown, and the matching DKNY baseball cap, pulling the ponytail through the hole in the back of the cap. He looked in the mirror at his disguise and wasn't satisfied, so he put on Meeka's bright red lipstick that he had taken from the cabinet when he took a shower at Bilal's. Jovan then put on the big shades that covered most of his face and looked in the mirror again. This time he was satisfied with what he saw.

It was 1:45, and for the next ten minutes, Jovan was going be a certified hood rat. He popped his stash spot and retrieved the 9 mm and screwed the silencer on it. He placed it in Meeka's Coach bag that he had also taken from Bilal's house.

Jovan got out of his van and walked around Bladensburg Road, came through the cut on Sixteenth Street, and walked by Chicken Wing and his crew. Jovan knew Chicken Wing was on hood rats hard as hell, and this butt pad made his ass look like Mary J. Blige's. Although he felt humiliated wearing this costume, he knew it would serve its purpose, so he did what was necessary.

As he walked past Chicken Wing, he started switching and Chicken Wing came off the porch and fell right into his trap.

“Damn, she phat as shit. Girl, come here!” Chicken Wing yelled.

As Jovan walked faster up the street, Chicken Wing began to follow. Jovan put his hand into his bag and held onto the gun like glue. As Chicken Wing got closer, Jovan looked around and saw three little girls playing jump rope. This was his chance, and he couldn't blow it. He needed to get this nigga. As the little girls were playing, Jovan started walking faster to get them out of reach.

Chicken Wing started a light jog, saying, “Hey, hold up for a minute. Let me holla at you.”

Jovan slowed down, and when he heard Chicken Wing's footsteps getting closer, he waited for a second until Chicken Wing was about two feet away. Jovan didn't panic. He was going to give it to a nigga who truly deserved it. When Jovan felt Chicken Wing's breath damn near on the back of his neck, he turned around and shot Chicken Wing four times in the solar plexus.
Pat-pat-pat-pat.
That way Chicken Wing would instantly lose his breath and wouldn't be able to holla for help.

As Chicken Wing clutched his stomach on the way down to the pavement, Jovan shot him once in the forehead and quickly put his gun back in the bag. He didn't run from the scene. He just began to walk away fast.

As Jovan was walking away, he could hear the little girls laughing. “Ooh! You see that? He tried to touch that girl's butt and she turned around and punched him in his stomach. That's what he get!”

As Chicken Wing was curled up on the sidewalk dead, those little girls thought he was punched in the stomach for touching Jovan's ass. This came out better than Jovan had planned. He headed back to his van, and no one saw him get in. As he drove off, he could see Chicken Wing's crew walking toward him, laughing, not knowing he was through, finished, done like a hot turkey on Thanksgiving.

It was just turning two o'clock, and Jovan pulled up on Ninth Street, took off his costume, wiped the lipstick off of his lips, wiped down the gun, placed everything in Meeka's big Coach bag, and placed the bag in the dumpster.

Jovan walked in the gym through the back way on the Ninth Street side and came out front on the Tenth Street side. Sonya and Germain were just pulling up when he came out on Tenth Street, and when Sonya got outta the car, instantly Jovan was aroused and pleased at what he saw.

She had on a pair of tight Moschino jeans and a T-shirt with some open-toed sandals. She had her long hair in a ponytail. Sonya looked good even in regular gear. Her beauty was natural. She didn't need makeup or nothing. She was a natural queen, ready to claim her spot.

“Hi, Jovan,” Germain said.

“Hi, Germain,” Jovan said.

“How you doing?”

“I'm fine.”

“That's good. How'd you like the party last night?” Germain asked.

“It was cool.”

“What about the after party?” She started laughing.

“What after party?” Jovan asked, even though he knew she was insinuating about the explosive sex that Sonya and Jovan had.