Authors: Treasure Hernandez
The Block (21 page)
“I heard your pops had some pure shit on his hands too.”
“Nah, that was all me, but I don't fuck with my pops no more. But I still have to get rid of the shit, and that's where you come in at.”
“How I know I can trust this shit?”
“Listen, I just came home and I need to stack up some paper, and I ain't got time to be playing no games. You got my word.”
“Your word better be bond!” Ice-T said. “How soon can you get them thangs to me?”
“I got nine of them bitches in my trunk right now.”
“Word?” Ice-T said, excited. “Fuck it! give me all nine. Them shits better be official too.”
“Once I see that paper, I got you.”
“A'ight, give me a second.” Ice-T disappeared up the stairs. He returned ten minutes later with a duffel bag. “Here,” he said, sitting the duffel bag on the table.
Tone quickly thumbed through the cash. “Look straight.” He stood and picked up the bag.
“You buggin',” Ice-T said quickly. “That money ain't going nowhere until I test each one of them thangs.”
“No problem. Give me a second.”
Tone stepped outside and headed to the car. He looked over both shoulders before removing the duffel bag from his trunk and returning back inside Ice-T's crib.
“That's for you.” Tone smiled as he sat the duffel bag on the table right next to the other duffel bag.
Ice-T took his time checking each joint, making sure everything was proper. “And you said you can get more of this?”
“Ten at a time,” Tone answered.
“Bet. I'ma need ten more of these bitches in about four days.”
“Here's my number.” Tone punched it inside Ice-T's cell phone. “I deal with you direct and only you.”
“You got it,” Ice-T said, as he walked Tone to the door. He stopped Tone before he stepped out the house. “Let me ask you questionâWould you have any hard feelings if I had your father murdered?”
“What father?”
Tone exited Ice-T's house and headed to his car. He popped the trunk, tossed the duffel bag in the trunk, and drove off.
When Tone drove off, Nut asked, “Fuck was that shit all about?”
“This nigga might be our ticket out of the game,” Ice-T said. “I don't know where he getting it from, but he got his hands on some good shit.”
“Where he get it from?” Nut asked.
“I have no idea.”
“You think this shit is a setup?” Nut asked, eyebrow raised.
“Nah, I don't get that feeling from him.” Ice-T finished off his drink. “He ain't never been that type of nigga.”
“I hope not.”
Just then a young worker ran up in the crib.
“What up, little nigga?”
“Just got word on that stickup kid,” the young worker said, out of breath. “His name is Gruff, and he lives in Brooklyn somewhere. He the one who shot up Maine and put him in a wheelchair.”
“I heard of that nigga.” Ice-T poured himself another drink. “A real nothing-to-live-for-ass nigga.”
“I'ma track that ass down,” Nut said seriously.
“Everybody talking about how his dog be eating niggas alive and shit,” the young worker reported.
“Yeah, I'ma find him before the week is out. Good looking.” Nut handed the young worker a few bills.
Ice-T smiled as he gave Nut a pound. “Time for you to go hunting.”
Chapter 19
Serena walked in the house and sat the duffel bag on the table. “Ten more,” she announced.
“Good job, baby,” Tone said as he sat at the kitchen table counting money.
Serena kissed Tone on his lips. “Damn! Do you got enough rubber bands?”
“You can never have enough rubber bands.” Tone took a swig from his bottle of Henny. “How did everything go?”
“Smooth as usual,” Serena said, kicking off her shoes. “I didn't check 'em out though.” She pulled them out the duffel bag, and they both examined them.
Tone held one up. “They look straight to me.”
A loud knock at the door caused the two of them to jump.
“Who the fuck is that?” Serena whispered.
“I don't know,” Tone whispered. “Pack all this shit up.” He grabbed his .45 from off the counter and eased his way toward the door. He looked through the peephole and saw his parole officer standing on the other side of the door. “Shit! it's my parole officer!” Tone stuck his gun in the duffel bag, and Serena ran upstairs to go hide it. Once Serena was upstairs, he opened the door. “What's up, Ms. Johnson?” He stepped to the side so she could enter.
“How are you?” Ms. Johnson asked, looking around.
“Everything is cool,” Tone replied nervously.
“Why are you sweating?”
“Oh, I just got finished doing some push-ups,” he lied.
“Did you find yourself a job yet?”
“Not yet. I'm still looking. Shit hard out here.”
“Okay, if you don't find anything within the next thirty days, I'm going to have to assign something for you, unless you get in school.”
“I'll have something before thirty days.” Tone smiled.
“Okay, I'll see you in two weeks at my office.” Ms. Johnson shook Tone's hand then made her exit.
Serena peeked her head down the steps. “She gone?”
“Yeah, she gone.” Tone wiped the sweat from his forehead. “We gotta find a place to keep all this shit tomorrow.”
“Okay, baby, I'm about to hop in the shower real quick.” Serena disappeared back up the steps.
Tone just threw on an old Jay-Z CD and sipped on his Henny as he sat in deep thought until it was time for him to go to bed.
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Gorilla Zoe's song, “Hood Nigga,” blared through the speakers in Yayo's crib as Mary stood up on the coffee table wearing nothing but an orange thong and some orange pumps, shaking her ass for her man.
“Shake that shit, baby,” Yayo said as he playfully tossed a few singles up in the air.
“You like that?” Mary looked back at Yayo and made each one of her ass cheeks bounce one at a time in a nice speed.
“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that at?”
“Don't worry about all that.” Mary began making her ass clap.
Yayo felt his cell phone vibrating on his hip, and he quickly answered. “Yo.”
“Where you at?” Gruff asked.
“In the crib. Why? What's up?”
“I'm right outside. I got a lick for us. Don't have me waiting out here for a long time,” Gruff said, ending the call.
Yayo pressed mute on the remote to his sound system.
“Oh hell no!” Mary huffed. “You ain't going nowhere right now!”
“Baby, I'll be back in fifteen minutes tops.” Yayo ran upstairs and grabbed his ski mask and an extra click for his .45.
“I love you, baby. I'll be back in a few.”
“Take all the time you want. I'll be 'sleep by the time you get back.” Mary kicked off her orange heels and stomped all the way upstairs.
“I love you!” Yayo yelled as he slipped out the front and hopped in the car that awaited him.
“Took you long enough,” Gruff joked as he pulled off.
“So what we about to get into?” Yayo asked, checking the magazine in his .45.
“Some punk-ass Mexicans supposed to be dropping off mad pounds of weed tonight at this motel around the corner. This going to be a easy night tonight.”
“I hope so.”
An hour after they'd pulled up into the motel's parking lot, Gruff and Yayo noticed two cars pull up side by side. One of the drivers grabbed a big rolling suitcase from out of his trunk, while the other only removed a duffel bag from his backseat. Both drivers looked nervous and suspicious, like they was up to no good.
“I'ma kick in the door,” Gruff said, cracking his neck. “If any one of those taco-eating muthafuckas act up, you know what to do.”
Yayo nodded his head as he slipped on his ski mask.
“What's up with you and that damn ski mask?” Gruff asked, his face crumpled up.
“What you mean?” Yayo asked. “I don't want muthafuckas I rob to see my face.”
“That's the whole thrill of it, letting a muthafucka know that it was you who robbed him.” Gruff smiled.
“Nah, you bugging.”
Yayo and Gruff slid out the car and slowly crept up to the room door they were looking for.
On the silent count of three, Gruff came forward and kicked open the door.
“Let me see them hands!” Gruff forcefully slammed one of the Mexicans down to the floor.
Yayo, smiling from behind his ski mask, had his .45 aimed at the other Mexican's head.
“Hold me down.” Gruff removed a roll of duct tape from his back pocket. He quickly taped one of the Mexican's hands up before moving on to the next one.
Yayo quickly grabbed the suitcase and rushed out the door. Gruff grabbed the duffel bag from off the floor and followed Yayo's lead.
Once back in the car, Gruff put the pedal to the metal and jetted up out the parking lot.
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“That's some good shit you got.” Ice-T laughed as him and Tone traded duffel bags.
“I told you I had it,” Tone boasted. “Straight off the boat.”
“We going out tonight. You wanna roll?”
“Yeah, my man come home today,” Tone suddenly remembered. “So I think we might take you up on that offer.”
“Good,” Ice-T said. “Go out and celebrate our new success.”
Nut came running down the stairs. “Just got word on where that nigga Gruff rest his head.” He smiled as he headed out the door.
“That nigga Gruff is a pain in the ass,” Tone said.
Ice-T shook his head. “Tell me about it.”
“Let me get up outta here.” Tone stood up to leave. “I'ma get with you later on.”
“Do that.” Ice-T gave Tone a pound as he walked out the door.
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Tone walked in the door and dropped the duffel bag on Serena's lap. “We need another order.”
“Damn! Already?” Serena said with a smile on her face. “That Ice-T nigga ain't playing.”
“I need you to do me a favor.” Tone pulled a stack of money from out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “Go get yourself a nice outfit. We going out tonight.”
“A club or dinner?”
“Club. My man Styles should be here any minute.”
“Oh, that's why you rushing me?” Serena joked.
“No. I'm rushing you 'cause I know you going to take all day.” Tone playfully mushed Serena.
“Okay, okay.” Serena laughed.
Just then she heard somebody knocking. She answered the door with a smile, extending her hand. “You must be Styles.”
“And you must be the Serena I've heard so much about,” Styles countered.
“That would be me.” Serena stepped to the side so he could enter.
Tone smiled as he gave Styles a pound followed by a hug. “So I see you finally made it home.”
“Finally.” Styles smiled.
“I'll see you later, baby.” Serena kissed Tone on his lips as she slipped out the door.
“So what's planned for tonight?” Styles sat at the bar area.
Tone poured him and Styles a drink. “Suppose to be this big-ass party going down tonight.”
“As long as it's going to be some hos there, I'm cool.” Styles downed his drink in one gulp. It had been years since he had been with a woman, and he couldn't wait to get back into the loop.
“Definitely gonna be some nice pieces up in there.”
“If the ass is round, you know I'm down.” Styles smiled.
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Nut sat parked across the street from a run-down motel along with three youngblood niggas. “Yo, you sure this the raggedy motel this clown is staying at?”
A young shooter with a red flag tied around his head answered, “Yeah,” from the backseat.
After waiting for about two hours, Nut spotted Gruff. “There that nigga go right there,” he said, looking at the man walk his dog.
“You want us to air that nigga out?” the young shooter asked.
“Nah, not yet,” Nut said, watching Gruff closely. “I need to know a little more about him. Plus, it's a precinct right around the corner. We gon' watch this clown for about a week then go from there.”
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Ice-T's Range Rover pulled up in the club's parking lot bumping Gucci Mane's new CD. He slid out the passenger side of the truck looking like a million bucks. He wore all blackâblack jeans, yellow construction Tims, a black long john shirt, some black shades, and a black skully hat sat tilted to the side of his head. The two white gold chains and the iced-out pinky ring and bracelet just added to his look.
“I hope it ain't no dickhead at the door,” Ice-T said out loud as he led the way toward the entrance.
“Whooooa!” the bouncer said, holding out his arm. “I'ma need to see some ID, fellas.”
“Stop playing all the time.” Ice-T gave the bouncer a pound. “They all with me.”
“No problem.” The bouncer laughed as he let Ice-T and his whole crew in.
Another big bouncer quickly escorted Ice-T to the VIP booth, knowing the crew was about to spend some real money in the club tonight. Remy Ma's song, “Conceited,” came blaring through the speakers, and all the chicks in the club started going crazy.
A lady came carrying a bucket full of ice and four bottles of Grey Goose sticking out of it.
“Now we can really get this party started.” Nut poured himself a drink.
Once Ice-T saw Nut drinking the Grey Goose straight, he knew he was going to fuck around and get into some shit tonight, but he ignored his friend and tried to focus on having a good time.
“Damn!” Nut said, looking down at the ass of the freak he was dancing with. He grabbed her waist with one hand and held his bottle up in the air with the other as the two flowed to the beat.
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Tone stepped out the Infiniti looking regular. He wore a tan Dickies suit, some all-black suede Tims, and a black White Sox fitted hat pulled down low. The only jewelry he wore was an iced-out bracelet, a watch, and a diamond-flooded pinky ring.
Serena, on the other hand looked, brand new. She wore this tight-fitting all-white tube dress that stopped at the middle of her thighs. She completed her outfit with some red heels, and she wore her hair up in a lazy bun, the bright red clip in her hair matching her shoes. On her neck she wore a diamond-studded chain, on her wrist sat a white gold bracelet that spelled Tone's name in diamonds, and on her ring finger was her new engagement ring that Tone had given her earlier that night.
In the background stood Young Mike, Harlem, and Styles.
“Everybody good?” Tone asked.
“We good,” Young Mike replied, tossing a piece of gum in his mouth.
After twenty minutes of arguing with the bouncer, Tone and his crew was allowed to enter. Tone stepped foot in the club, and immediately the heat, bright lights, and pumping bass slapped him in the face. Lil Wayne and Birdman's song, “Always Strapped,” had the club jumping. He looked over the crowd and saw Ice-T and his crew up in the VIP section.
“Come on, baby!” Tone yelled over the loud music. He grabbed Serena's hand, and the two knifed their way through the crowd.
A light-skinned cat with waves grabbed Serena's wrist. “Damn, ma!” he yelled over the music. “You gorgeous!”
Serena quickly snatched her wrist away before Tone could see what was going on.
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