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Authors: Ace Gucciano

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Romance, #Urban, #Genre Fiction

Money & Love Don't Mix

BOOK: Money & Love Don't Mix
6.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Money & Love Don’t Mix



A Novel By


Ace Gucciano






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© 2015 Ace Gucciano.

Published by Royalty Publishing House.

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.




Surviving in the streets of Atlanta is hard. But when you have a bad chick by your side, it gets easier. 

After being convicted of armed robbery as teenagers and sentenced to ten years behind the wall, Trouble and his closest friends, Maniac, Slick, Smoke and Dre, are released back into society with BIG dreams of becoming rich and living the life.

However, after serving an entire decade, Trouble learned to appreciate life itself and decides to go at it from a different angle…choosing to be legit. But while in the midst of doing so, he has a load of pressure that is too heavy to hold, which causes him to fall victim to the streets. After he is forced to take a journey back down memory lane, he bumps into an old friend and she tries to change his life forever...

Miranda is the ultimate rider and she won’t stop at anything to do what is needed to be done for her man. Trouble wants to let go of everything and spend the rest of his life with Miranda but he has some tough decisions to make.

Will he fall victim to what his friends and the wicked streets of Atlanta have to offer? Or, will he decide to pursue a new relationship with an old flame?

"Money and Love Don't Mix" is a page turner full of suspense, greed, envy, money, desire, revenge and unforgettable friends who’ll risk it all for their dreams and for one another..


Chapter 1

“Well, Well, Well, look who we have here. Mr. Daunté Jones A.K.A. Trouble! What idiot at the parole board decided to let yo’ ass outta prison!?” The correctional officer stated to Daunté as he approached the back gate to freedom from this gated hell. 

              “Fool! Ain’t nobody decide nothing, I maxed out! Now I don’t owe y’all muthafuckas shit!” he proudly responded but the officer just laughed as he watched him go through the gates of freedom.

              Shooting a bird at his back, he thought to himself
‘Yea…whateva’ inmate. You’ll be back. I’ve seen yo’ kind come back and forth for years. You ain’t foolin' nobody.’


As soon as he came through the gate, he noticed his mother waiting by her car crying her heart out. He quickly approached her and gave her a hug before they got in the car, leaving the prison far behind.

“I  never thought this day would get here!” she said, continuing to cry.

“Aww! Don’t cry, ma, it’s ova’ wit, I’m free!” he stated as he tried to cheer her up.

“Oh, I know it’s over, son. I’m just so excited to see you!. You gotta be a mother yourself to feel where I’m coming from. Trust me; I didn’t wanna see you in there anymore than you did.”

“I feel ya’ ma; a hundred and twenty months was a long time away from you.”

“Exactly…so, now that you have that mess behind you, what do you plan on doing out here for yourself?”

“Well for right now I’mma take it one day at a time, ma, I can’t be in a rush, ya’ feel me? That’s how I got jammed up to begin wit;’ rushing!”

“I hear ya’ son, that’s why I’ma give you a little time to chill seein’ that you’re just getting out, but you can’t chill long. They feed y’all three meals a day in there, out here it’s ugly. If you don’t work, you don’t eat, plain and simple!” she stressed while pulling into Lexington Square Townhomes. It was a well-known drug neighborhood located on the Southside of Atlanta where they lived their entire lives. As she drove through the sub-division, he looked out the window, observing his surroundings, he shook his head in disbelief.

“Damn! I see a lotta niggas in da’ same spot dey were in ten years ago.”

“Yup; just look at ya’ boy over by the basketball court, still hustling nicks and dimes. He need to be ashamed of himself!” she said pointing at Smoke, one of Trouble’s closest friends growing up.

Smoke glanced at them passing by and instantly threw up his hands, shaking his head and smiling from ear to ear at the moment they noticed each other. Trouble did the same and as he drove a little further, he saw him begin to walk in their direction.

Smoke fired up a blunt of mid saying to himself.
They finally freed my dawn! It’s bout ta’ be ugly for dese niggas out here,
as he
headed towards them.

The moment trouble and his mother arrived at home he looked around the entire place, noticing she made a lot of adjustments since he had been away. In the living room, he paused to inspect the 52’in flat screen TV that she had on the wall. She could tell he was highly infatuated by the way he saw it placed on the wall since they didn’t exist ten years ago.

She laughed and said, “Son, you know regular TV’s went out years ago, the only place that you would find one now is in a pawn shop somewhere. I got one on the wall in your room too wit’ a PlayStation 3!”

“Oh, fo’ real!?” he excitedly inquired.

“Yeah, I figured it was the least I could do so you could have somethin’ to occupy your time while I’m at work.” He hurried to his room to find everything the same as he left in years ago, except for the TV that was placed on the wall. Instantly, he cut the TV and Playstation on while looking through a few games his ma had gotten him along with it. There was Madden 13, NBA 2K13 and Grand Theft Auto, but he stopped at Call of Duty Black Ops.
This da’ one I been hearing 'bout right her
e, he told himself, as he loaded it into the system.

He heard a knock on the front door, which he figured was Smoke finally making his way over to welcome him home. When he opened the door, Dre, Maniac, Slick, and Smoke stood before him. They all came to show love and welcome Trouble home. He was the last one out of the crew to get back from prison for the crime they all committed ten years ago.

He was excited to finally reunite with his homies after so long, but mainly because during their long eighteen month stay in Clayton County Jail awaiting trial none of them fell weak. They refused to turned state on the rest of the crew, for a lesser sentence or to have their charges dropped, so he knew they all had loyalty towards one another.

“Y’all come on in.” he said as he led them upstairs to his room.

“Man, I know we all had to do time, but you had to feel them ten years, playboy.” Slick stated.

“Hell yeah! I don’t see how you came out wit’ mo’ time than da’ rest of us anyway, dawg.” Smoke commented.

“’Cause armed robbery got that mandatory minimum, you know that shit, Smoke. Plus, that nasty prosecutor bitch had me labeled as the ring leader behind everything, so she refused to reduce my charges like she did y’all. That’s how y’all ended up wit’ seven and I got stuck with ten.”

“Even tho’ yo’ skinny ass done picked up a lil’ weight, I’ll still put dese hands on you if it come down to it cuzzo!” Maniac said looking Trouble up and down and they all laughed.

“Bruh, you don’t wanna see me, my hands on point. Nigga, I learned from some of the best down in G.S.P.” Trouble joked.

“Y’all niggas crazy… fuck all that jail talk you ready to turn up tonight, homie?” Dre asked.

“Hell yea, my nigga, you know I’m ready, fuck you mean! Long as it’s turned up in a strip club somewhere.  I don’t feel like being around no mo’ niggas, bad enough I gotta be round y’all muthafuckas.” They laughed.

“Naw, we ain’t taking you round no niggas, playboy. We 'bout to hit this new spot the Northside Drive called
Diamond Lounge
. It has the baddest bitches in Atlanta!”

“A’ight, that’s what’s up then, but I need a new wardrobe.  I can’t step out in any of this old shit that’s in my closet…  So, which one of y’all boyz gonna fuck wit me?”

“Just chill, we got you, dawg,” said Smoke handing him $100.

“Yeah, cuzzo, you ain’t been home an hour, already tryna turn up, slow down, my nigga.” Maniac stated.

“What da hell I’ma do wit $100, Smoke?” he curiously inquired, feeling as though he should’ve given him more. “And damn right I’m ready to turn up in some new clothes, I been wearing stripes the past 10 years, my nigga.”

At that point, Slick butted in telling Trouble, “I got ya’, playboy.  Don’t trip as matter of fact lets ride down to Walters so I can get you swagged up for tonight!”

“’Preciate that, my nigga.”

“Ain’t no thang, Playboy. We all had to go through that shit, so I know how you feel.” Slick uttered.

“I’ma shoot you some money too when I get off some of this mid,” Dre said.

“Yo!  I got you too, cuzzo,” Maniac mentioned.

“That’s a bet!  But damn, what y’all boys been doin, I know y’all ain’t broke out here.” He inquired as he got the impression that Dre and Maniac weren’t really doing too much with themselves.

              “What you mean what we doing dis mid! A nigga got to eat some type of way. Them jobs ain’t fucking too tough wit niggas who got felonies on their record ,” said Dre.

              “Yeah, Cuzzo, you gotta do somethangs out here to get a lil’ money.” Maniac emphasized.

              “Well, I damn sho’ ain’t tryna be out here trappin’, we did that shit before we went in.  I’ll be a fool to get out here and fuck wit that shit again… what 'bout you, Slick, what you got going on out here, my nigga?”

              Slick never replied, but uttered, “Come on, let’s head on down to Walters before it gets too late. I’ma holla at you in da car on our way down there” and they all headed outside to his 2013 matte black Dodge Challenger.

              On their way out of complex, Smoke’s phone rang from a customer looking for a dime of mid, so he headed to do his business. He decided to hit the block so he could make a little more money before they got ready to step out later on tonight.

              “What you had to talk to me ‘bout, my nigga?” The moment Trouble and Slick were alone getting on the expressway in route to Walters, Trouble turned the radio down and said,

“Oh, ain’t nothing’ really, playboy, I was just gonna fill you in on what’s going on out here wit’ everybody…See, everybody’s really doin’ their own thang. Maniac don’t know if he coming or going, still robbin’ muthafuckas and livin’ from lick to lick.”

“Damn, he ain’t tryna hustle or nothin’?”

“Hell naw! He living on the edge fo’ real. All he do is lay on dope boys to rob, and ain’t no future in that shit.”

“Hell naw it ain’t, but once he rob ‘em, what does he do with the shit he get?”

“Wholesale it to anybody he can, then blow all da’ money in da mall and strip club and then be broke again in a couple of days. Smoke and Dre don’t do shit but trap all day like some young niggas. That nickel and dime shit ain’t talking ‘bout nothing ya’ feel me, playboy?”

“Yeah, I feel you, playboy, but you gotta understand it’s fucked up out here. Plus, Maniac, Smoke, and Dre ain’t never really had no hustle, so that makes shit even harder fo’ them. Me telling them is like talkin’ to a brick wall, so I just let ‘em do they own thang.”

“Yeah, I can tell dey really ain’t got shit going on out here from da’ vibe I was getting’… what you got going on tho, my nigga?”

“All I do is white collar crimes now, pimpin'.”

              “What kind you do, my nigga?”

              “Shit, I do a lil’ bit of it all;  credit cards, file taxes here and there, and make checks.  That’s how I eat, plus, ain’t that much time behind that shit if you get caught up, playboy.” Slick stated as he pulled into a parking space.

              Trouble took in everything Slick said before replying, “That shit sound good, but it’s a paper trail to ‘that shit somewhere. After giving them folks a hundred and twenty months, I can’t afford to go back. I’m going legit, my nigga.”

              As soon as they got out, Trouble noticed a redbone chick standing 5’9, rocking a pair of skin tight booty shorts, showing off her hips and thighs. The top that wrapped around her neck stopped above her waist revealing her flat stomach, small waist, and pierced navel. He could tell by how quick she moved along that she was on a mission. So, he didn’t bother speaking, but once she passed by he noticed her fat round 52” ass, he was forced to speak.

              “Dammmmn!! You thick! What’s good, baby girl?” She glanced back at him passionately before she spoke in a soft voice.

              “Hey, Honey. You tryin’ to get into some?”

              “Hell yea! Gimme ya--” he happily replied without hesitation, but before he could finish, Slick tapped him on his chest.

              “Come on, bruh, let’s go!” By the expression on his face Trouble knew it had to be something, so he didn’t resist and they made their way towards Walters, leaving the woman where she stood. “That bitch a hoe, playboy. We see her ass every time we come down here sellin’ pussy and I can’t let you go out like that.”

                Trouble chuckled, taking one last glance at her ass as she went on about her business, saying to himself,
Damn, she might be a hoe, but I still wouldn’t mind fuckin’ her. She fine as a muthafucka!

The moment they made it in Walters, Trouble couldn’t stop looking around as he made an attempt to get his swag back to together so, Slick took it upon himself to speak up.

  “Yo, let me show you what niggas rocking out here!.”

Once they were done, Trouble left wearing a black fitted V-neck showing his muscular physique, a black fitted A-Town cap, denim True Religion pants, Gucci belt, and Gucci skippers. In his hands, he held a ton of other stuff that Slick helped him pick out and he felt satisfied.

As soon as they made it back to the hood, Smoke and Dre were still posted on the block catching plays, but the moment they saw Slick’s car, Dre waved him down. They both got in and rode along with them to Trouble’s crib.

“I see you got my boy swagged up.” Said Smoke.

“Yeah, you know I had to get him up out that prison shit ASAP!” Slick replied.

“I hope he ready to turn up tonight cause it’s going down. You gone be ready ain’t you, homie?” Dre inquired.

“Come on, my nigga, I been waitin’ on my moment,” said Trouble.

“These hoes in Atlanta done got real aggressive since you left. You might have to fight ‘em up off you tonight!” Smoke laughed and they all joined in as Slick pulled up in from of Trouble’s crib.

“That’s what’s up, shit, that’s how I like ‘em, aggressive; although, tonight, I’ll probably chill, sip on a lil’ something while I get my mind right cause first thing Monday morning, I’m going job hunting.”

“Job hunting?!” Dre reiterated, shocked to hear him say anything about doing something positive as they made it back inside Trouble’s crib.

“Hell yeah, job hunting, nigga! I just did a bid and I'd be going out wrong if I ended up back out here in da’ street wit y’all.”

BOOK: Money & Love Don't Mix
6.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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