Authors: K. Elliott
Street Fame (13 page)
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.
“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just that I prefer a man.”
“Well I prefer you.”
Jennifer stood and put her panties back on. “That’s your problem. I like men and there is nothing you can do for me, dear.”
“You know what? You’re a really selfish bitch,” Morgan said.
“Whatever.”
Morgan stood and put her clothes on. She left without saying a word.
Jennifer was still horny. She called Twin but didn’t get an answer. She figured he was out in the street, hustling his drugs.
After a few minutes of fantasizing, she grabbed her cell phone and called Mark.
At three o’clock in the morning, Jennifer lay in Mark’s bed. Neither said anything. Both had enjoyed the sexual experience, but there was nothing to talk about. She finally stood and said, “I have to be going. I got a man, you know?”
She got dressed then looked in Mark’s eyes. “How do you feel about me?”
“I like you. I like you a lot.”
“All you can say is
you like me a lot
?”
He stood and put on his boxers “What do you want me to say? You have a man.”
“A man that I am betraying for you, so that you can eventually put him away. Then where does that leave me?”
Mark turned his back to her. “I don’t understand what you want me to say.”
“So, am I just your little sex toy, Agent Pratt? All you want me for is my tits and ass?”
“No, Jennifer … I like you a lot. I want you to get out of the dancing business and make a new life for yourself.”
“Well, I’m going to probably have to get out of the dancing business ‘cause once Twin and his boys go down, my ass is going to be wanted.”
“Twin ain’t no fuckin mobster. These guys are punks.”
She sat on the bed and put her stilettos on. Then she stood and walked toward the door.
He jumped up, put his socks on and noticed a pill on the floor. He picked up the pill and, after examining it, he noticed a dolphin on it. “Jennifer, wait.” When he entered the living room, she was about to open the front door. “Still using X, huh?”
“What the fuck do you think?”
“I think you shouldn’t bring this shit to my house. Don’t you know I’m the DEA? You are showing me no respect.”
“And you can just fuck me with no feelings … talking about respect.”
“You have a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, a boyfriend that I’ve been lying to and ratting on.”
“So where’d you get the X?”
“Mark, can you stop being a policeman and let’s talk?”
“About what?”
“Talk about us.”
“What about us?”
“Do you love me?”
He didn’t say anything; he just looked at the pill.
“Okay, that’s what I thought. I’ve gotta be going.”
He ran to the door and blocked it. He wouldn’t let her leave. “You know I love you, but I’m not
in love
with you, okay? We’ve slept together twice. How can you love somebody like that?”
“I don’t think you could see yourself with somebody like me … a little stripper girl, white trash … Probably afraid of what your friends would think—your dad and that gay-ass partner of yours.”
“I don’t care what anybody says about me; I’m my own man.”
“Don’t you see? After Twin is gone, I won’t have nobody, nobody to help me.”
“Hey, I understand, but I need you to set some goals. And for God’s sake, leave these drugs alone.” He held up the pill.
She reached for it but he wouldn’t give it to her. “Where did you get that from?”
“You must have dropped it. Do you want to tell me where you got it from?”
She looked away. “This is the new drug. They are dealing X now.”
“Whoa!” Mark couldn’t believe it.
She burst into tears.
Mark held her, kissing her forehead, telling her it was going to be alright.
Dean & Deluca’s
, downtown. He’d mentioned that he wanted to take her somewhere. They had a cup of coffee and then hopped into his car.
He took her to the Adam’s Mark Hotel and they ended up in one of the conference rooms. A tall, attractive black woman with long, dark hair stood at the front of the room. A huge banner hung in the background.
Dare to Dream: an empowerment seminar for women
.
“What the hell am I here for?” Jennifer asked.
“Just to hear this woman’s story; it’s incredible.”
After everyone was seated, the woman began. “Hello, everybody.
My name is Dream Nelson and I have HIV. I just wanted to say that first.”
A series of murmurs flowed from the crowd.
Jennifer nudged Mark. “I’m still not understanding.” Jennifer couldn’t believe the woman had HIV. She looked so beautiful. Her skin was flawless; her teeth were straight; and she was dressed so well.
Dream continued. “First of all, I want to say that I had a very privileged life growing up. Both my parents were educators, and I went to Catholic school all my life. In fact, I was a teacher as well.”
Jennifer sighed as if bored.
“But I had an attraction for bad boys, drug dealers in particular. I don’t know what it was, but living on the edge kind of gave me a rush; and my parents warned me to stay away from those bad boys. My friend Keisha warned me.” Dream pointed to Keisha, who held up a hand.
“My last boyfriend had me trafficking drugs. And I know some of you are probably wondering how a woman so beautiful and intelligent could get caught up in something like that.” Dream Nelson paced a little, taking her eyes off the crowd briefly.
“I had low self esteem. I didn’t value myself, and when a certain man came along and told me I was the greatest thing since sliced bread, I loved him, and I loved everything he represented. He showered me with gifts and gave me affection; took me on trips, bought me expensive bags and jewelry, and everything. I know there’s someone in this audience that knows this type of man. Dream looked at a couple of younger girls on the front row who were wearing flashy jewelry.
“I got stopped in the airport and was strip searched. The police looked in my vagina for drugs. But did I leave him? No.”
One lady in the back raised her hand and asked. “How did you get HIV?”
“Good question,” Dream Nelson said. “I will get to that in a minute.”
Jennifer watched Dream. She didn’t appear to be a drug user, so she figured she’d gotten HIV from a man, probably the drug dealer she was talking about.
“I think too many women are out here suffering from esteem issues. Some of us want to gain weight. Others want to loose weight. Some seek plastic surgery. I’m here to tell you that you don’t need validation from a man, and to watch the company that you hang with because they can bring you down. The feds came to me about my boyfriend … you know, the drug-dealer, the one that told me I was the best thing since sliced bread … asked me to tell them what I knew about him … told me that they knew I was taking trips with him to California, and that it was just a matter of time before I went down with him unless I told.”
A large black woman with a large mole on her jaw raised her hand and said, “I would have told them everything I knew.” She highfived her friend.
“Most people would have told the feds,” Dream said. “Not me. I was in love. In love with a dealer, and I couldn’t see not being there for my man. He even murdered somebody, and I didn’t say anything about him. Had he lived, I could have gone down with him. But he was killed by the police in a shoot-out.”
Her eyes were watery now. “Then came the shock that I’d tested positive for HIV.”
An attractive woman on the front row came to her side and grabbed the microphone. “Hello, I’m Ms. Nelson’s best friend, Keisha Ferguson. We’ve been best friends since we were ten years old.”
The crowd applauded and Keisha continued. “We’re here to get women excited about living and being self-sufficient. I’m not saying you don’t need a man, but a man should never determine your selfworth.”
Dream Nelson held up a paperback book then said, “
Your Selfworth
is the name of the book that my best friend and I co-authored, and it will give you lessons on esteem issues, the value of your body, why it’s best to make him wait for sex, and how sometimes we fix ourselves up to be
characters
for men.”
Keisha laughed. “What she means by becoming a character is we sometimes overdo it with the colored contacts, fake nails, and long eyelashes just to be sexy for our man. Not saying we shouldn’t be sexy, because if you aren’t sexy another woman will be. But don’t become something you’re not just to please a man.” She paused. “Again, the title of the book is
Your Self-worth
and it’s going for fifteen dollars,” Keisha said. “Now Miss Nelson will answer some questions.”
A redhead on the front row raised her hand. “Do you think you made a mess of your life?”
Dream Nelson smiled. “I don’t think so. I’ve made some bad decisions, just like everybody else, but … I like what my life has become. I’m a bestselling author and lecturer, and a business woman; and I’m helping people all over the world. My books have sold over a million copies.”
The fat woman on the front row asked, “Do you miss teaching?”
“Yes and no. I miss the kids, but I’m still teaching in a sense; I’m teaching adults.”
The fat woman’s friend asked, “Do you hate men?”
Ms. Nelson laughed. “Absolutely not. I love men … I adore men. It’s just that I picked the wrong one and it cost me dearly.”
Jennifer raised her hand and was recognized. “Ms. Nelson, first of all, I would like to say that you’re beautiful. You look like a fashion model or something. My question is this: How did you go from being a drug dealer’s girlfriend that was pampered and spoiled to being as successful as you are?”
Dream Nelson blushed and said, “Thanks for the fashion model compliment. To answer your question, going from a drug dealer’s girlfriend to being a successful business woman was not easy. First of all, when I found out I had HIV, I tried to kill myself. I didn’t want to deal with life; I didn’t want to be here. After all, why me? But when I sat and reflected on all the decisions that I’d made in life, I had to ask myself, why not me? Yeah, my boyfriend Jamal is the reason that I got infected with the virus, but I’m a firm believer that we’re ninety percent responsible for what happens to us, and I take full responsibility for what happened to me. Having a great support group of friends and family and living a good, spiritual life will help you with anything. Happiness is not money or fame, but perception,” Dream Nelson said. “One more question then I will sign books.”
A well-groomed black man in a business suit raised his hand.
Ms. Nelson pointed to him and smiled.
“Do you have a man in your life?”
“Ladies and gentlemen, the man that asked the question is my fiancée of two years. He’s also a successful businessman. So you see, I’m very happy.”
The crowd applauded.
Dream walked to the back of the room and sat at a table. The book signing line formed quickly.
Three hundred and twelve books were sold. She’d signed in Jennifer’s book,
Get out of that situation ...You have to live. Love, Dream
.”