I felt like I was floating. Crazy because I was free, no longer locked up, so you would think that I would be on a high from that, but I wasn’t. Yesterday, after leaving the kick back at my grandparents’ house, I tried hitting Gold. The first time I called him, my call went straight to voicemail, so I got in my head, feeling like the nigga might have blocked me or some shit. I called him right back, and he answered that time, but when he did, he answered on the last ring. I felt like Gold was giving me the runaround. He told me that he was out of town, handling business, and that he would hit me when he made it back to the city. I’ve worked for this nigga in the past, while he would be out of town on business, so I didn’t understand why shit was different this time around.
Because I wasn’t confidant that the nigga was going to call me back when he made it back home, I ended up texting him this afternoon, reminding him to hit me back, and instead of texting right back, he just liked the message. I was in my head terribly. To be gone for a year from the streets was a long ass time. The world kept moving while I was locked up. With Gold’s organization, I knew that all kinds of plays were made, people were replaced, and new positions were filled. I wasn’t sure if he’d given my position away. Right before I went in to do my time, I had just gotten in good with Gold, and he was moving me around the organization, which was good because it’s almost like he was taking me up under his wing, preparing me for something big.
He had me working as a transporter. Basically, I was responsible for moving product and money from different traps.If I wasn’t doing that, then he would have me in different trap houses, where I was responsible for holding product, breaking down dope, and distributing it to runners. With the position that he’d put me in, I was making good money, but right before I could reach my full potential, I let that bitch at the club take me out of my body, quickly ending the money train that I was on with Gold.
Before I’d gotten locked up, I had money tucked away at Ari’s crib. I came back to a few bands. My cousin didn’t touch my money. Although it was a few bands, I knew that I couldn’t live off that shit forever. I needed to get back to work, but the way Gold was dodging me, giving me the runaround, I didn’t know if that was going to happen anytime soon.
That shit was heavy on my mind, as I finally made it outside, and I stood on the back terrace. I walked over to the glass railing, that ran along the edge, and from here, I had the perfect view of the water. Not too far away from me, there was an infinity pool, and I stared at that for a little bit, knowing that a lot of money had to go into creating that pool.
After staring at that for a little while, I looked ahead of me, falling in love with the Brickell skyline. This was the kind of shit that I wanted to hustle hard for. I wanted to trap so hard, put so much time in the streets that these kind of views could be the norm for me.
There was only a few other people standing out here with me, since the party was inside. I stood, with my hands in my pockets, deep in thought, when the sound of someone walking up on me caught my attention. I turned my head around, so that I could see who it was, and it was Elijah. He was a member of Dem’ 9 boyz. Out of all the people that could have walked up on me, it just had to have been his ass, and that’s why I rolled my eyes when I saw him.
He found it humorous that I’d rolled my eyes at him because he laughed, and he posted up on the railing, facing me.
“Why it gotta be all that? Why every time I come around you, you gotta be so mean to a nigga?” he asked me.
A couple of years ago, when I turned nineteen, my cousins threw a party for me at the club. No idea why they thought that I would want to spend my 19thbirthday at the club, being as though all that club shit that people do, I have never been on that. I didn’t drink, nor did I smoke. I didn’t even like people like that to want to have a big party at the club, but they threw one anyways, and it was open to the public.
That was the first night that I met Elijah. He’s been trying to shoot his shot with me ever since. I just wasn’t interested. I wasn’t interested in him, or any other nigga for that matter. The thing is, he wasn’t an ugly dude. Him, and his twin brother Elias were both very handsome. Beautiful chocolate skin, and they both had long locs in their hair that they kept maintained. A hood nigga, which is exactly what I saw myself with if that day ever came that I settled down. Other than that, there wasn’t anything about him that made me want to take him up on his offer.
I would prefer a nigga that wasn’t always in the middle of some shit. Him, and his crew stayed in some bullshit, and someone in his circle was always getting killed, so I would just rather stay far the fuck away from him.
“Because you act like you don’t understand what no means,” I shot, taking my eyes off the beautiful view for a second, so that I could stare at him.
I had to look up at him as I talked to him because he was much taller than me. Granted, damn near everyone was always much taller than me, but Elijah was super tall, almost like a basketball player. Even with me snapping on him, he was smiling, unfazed by my rant.
“I ain’t even come over here to fuck with you like that. I didn’t know you were home. I saw your cousins, so I went over there to talk shit with him, and I asked them about you. Ari told me that you came outside. You good though?” he wanted to know.
“I’m fine,” I responded, keeping my answer short, and not telling him the truth.
“I see you ate that lil time up that they gave you. That shit went by super-fast. I remember when it made the news and shit, and your mugshot had gone viral on social media. Whenever I would see Ari in the club, I would ask her for your information, so that I could put some money on your books, but she would always tell me that you were straight, so I wouldn’t pressure her about it. I know you were straight on the inside, but what’s it looking like for you now on the outside? I been told you that you could come over with me and my niggas, and I got a spot for you,” he shot, and I looked at him like he was crazy, just as I did when he brought this shit to the table awhile back.
“I’m good. The last thing I want is a handout,” I was honest with him, and when I said that, it was his turn to look at me like I was crazy.
“If you calling me trying to put you on as a handout, then everybody in the motha fuckin dope game has accepted a handout then. That’s not what this is, Riot. I see the kind of animal that you can be, and I’m just trying to put you in a position to eat, now that your home. I know you help move weight for Gold. You been in the game for a few years, so you know how this shit goes. Being a part of Gold’s crew, you know that everything changes once you catch a case. You become a liability after. It’s a chance that the police going to start watching you. A nigga like Gold not going to take that kind of risk towards his organization. I’m sure that he has already given your spot away. Whenever you come down off that high horse that you’re on, and you start thinking logically, remember that it’s alwaysa spot for you with us. I’ll even change the name of our shit to Dem 9 boyz and girls. Just for your beautiful,” he finished, and he put his hand up under my chin, looking me in my eyes for a few seconds, and then he walked away.
I hated that his bitch ass just confirmed what my fears with Gold were. Everything that he just said about Gold were things that I had been in my head about. One thing for sure though, I would get on the corner and sell ass before I ever became a part of Elijah and his crew. That shit would never happen.
About ten minutes had gone by, and I was still standing out here. I needed to go back inside, around some noise. I knew that if I stayed out here, where it was quiet, I was going to continue to think about bad shit and get in my head.
I removed my hands from inside my pockets, and I turned around, heading for the patio door. Literally, the second my hand touched the handle, the door had already slid back from the inside. I wasn’t expecting someone to be standing there, so when I took a step up, I ran smack dab into him. I’m talking, my head hit against his chest. We were both taken aback by that crash happening, so he stared down at me, while I looked up at him.
I knew of him. Never was in the same room as him though, so you know that I’ve never been this close on him, either. I was in the same line of business as him, so I would have been a little crazy if I didn’t know who he was. I was nowhere near his level of status though. I was a puppy in this drug shit, while he was a certified big dawg.
It was Dolo. He stood there, and I really didn’t expect him to be this handsome close up, so for a second, it’s almost like I didn’t know what the fuck to do, let alone what the fuck I should say.
I said before that although I haven’t hit that stage in my life where I was into men to the point that I would actually likethem, and think about being their girlfriend, I have ran into my fair share of men over the years that I’ve found attractive, but nothing has ever gone further than that. This man right here though…. my God!
Dolo wasn’t super tall. Like, I wasn’t going to stand here, and make him out to be this big, buff 6’4” man because he wasn’t that. If I had to guess his height, I would say that he was probably six feet even. Maybe even 6’1”, but nothing taller than that. The height was good on him though. He was still much taller than me, which is why I was looking up at him. He was lean, but up under the denim Prada button down, and jeans that he was wearing, you could also tell that he was a little solid.
He was the perfect shape if you ask me. His skin complexion matched mine. That golden skin that I had was the same for him. He kept his hair low and neatly cut. His facial hair wasn’t too much. Really just a thin mustache, shaped with a goatee, that made him look just a little bit older than he was, even though I knew that he was only a few years older than me.
I was dying to know what his parents might have looked like because someone had passed down perfect face structure to him. For a man, his cheekbones were very defined, and his jawline was so sharp, that this man could really be a model. One look at him, and you could tell that he was a hood nigga, but he had balance because Dolo wore prescription glasses. The Prada frames that he wore made him ten times sexier than what he really was. Big brown eyes, that had no problem dancing all around me, taking me in.
I paid attention to the ‘MBM’ tattoo, that was in red ink, right above his right eyebrow. You could tell that he took that gang shit serious because my eyes dropped down to his hands, paying attention to both fist. His right hand had the words ‘MBM’ and it was surrounded by fire, and flames, while on the left hand, itwas the words, ‘Life’, so when you put both fist together, it read, ‘ MBM LIFE’.
Before either one of us could act on what just finished happening, all you heard coming from inside the house was…..
