I’ll reach out to her tomorrow to see what I can do, and if she doesn’t answer, then I’ll try again the next day. Now that I wasn’t distracted by Jas, that shit was going to bother me until I got it resolved.
I’m in a fucked up position right now because I like Jasmine, but Delilah also deserves some loyalty from me. She was my comfort spot all these years, and I owe her that in return. No amount of sex could cloud that, though sex with Jasmine was the best I ever had.
Chapter 15
Troy
6:00 the next day
Me and one of my bitches sat on the rooftop spot in Highlands, drinking Ace out of the bottle as a platter of food sat in front of us. I ordered that shit as a sign of wealth even though I knew I wouldn’t be eating it. I hadn’t eaten much in the past few months, taking my title from big boy down a bit. I was losing weight and my mind, but I knew that it would take the truth about what happened to my brother to bring my appetite back. I knew it wasn't a random robbery that took his life. Trey was around a bunch of killers that day and something told me they were responsible for his death.
A sexy ass bottle girl came over to us.
“Can I get you two anything else? Y’all good?”
“We're straight until I signal for you to come back over here. Go and find someone else who needs you.”
When she walked away, I took another swig from the bottle and set it on the table before propping my feet up on it.
“Must you be so damn rude to waitresses? They can spit in our food, you know.”
“They're not that dumb. It’s cameras all in the kitchen.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I own this spot.”
“Oh, you do? I didn’t realize that.” She smirked, sipping from her cup again. This bitch was so green because she didn’t realize that, to her, my entire life was a façade. I had it, but not like that. Yeah, my place is nice, but I rent it month to month; my car is nice, but I lease it. And every spot I’ve ever told her I owned was a lie, but I knew exactly what to tell her to win over her trust and her loyalty. Bitches like Maleka liked status and wanted more out of life than they had.
“So, when you going to stop fronting with a nigga and keep it all the way real?”
“I am keeping it real with you, baby. Why have you been saying that so much?”
“Because I don’t believe you are.’
“Why not? Ever since we first started talking, I’ve been all about you. Anytime you call, I come running. What else do I need to keep it real about?” She sounded annoyed.
“Real about what you and your homegirl be talking about. Has she said anything about what happened to my brother? Did you tell her that you and me been dealing with each other since he got killed?”
“Troy, not this again. No, I didn’t tell her who you were, and no, I don’t know anything about Trey’s death. Baby, I thought we were coming here to have a good night. It’s my freaking birthday.”
“I know it is, and don’t you think I got some shit planned for you. Not only am I going to eat that pussy like a meal, but I've got other shit that will make your day.”
“Other shit like what? That’s what we should be talking about. Something positive.”
I sat up in my seat, looking her dead in her eyes. Maleka was pretty as shit, I’ve had prettier, but she wasn’t a hard look or fuck. When I saw her walking to the bus stop after leaving Jas’s one day, I approached her, and the first thing she looked at was my chain, not my eyes, and that’s when I had faith that she would eventually do what I asked. I just had to wear her pretty ass down.
Being a bigger nigga, I always had game, and a mouthpiece that could get the baddest hoes, but now I had to use it for something way more important than pussy, it was the truth about my brother I was seeking, and revenge.
“Come on, shorty, let’s go outside.”
“Outside for what? I’m not done with my drink.”
“We will come back; I just have something I want to show your pretty ass right quick.”
“Whatever you say, Troy.” She stood up, and her loud ass sequin dress made plenty of noise as she switched her hips out of the restaurant. She and I went downstairs, and, on the curb, my homie Stunna had brung one of Vivo’s cars down, cleaned up, with a bow on top. Vivo was my plug, and he had plenty of cars at his house in Rochester, even though he lived on the West Coast. Vivo let us whip his shit because he often said respect was in the eyes of the beholder. If we looked like we were getting money, we would continue to get it. He was a smart man, nigga made millions from selling dope, and I was looking to do the same.
Vivo used to live in NY before he moved to Cali to slang out there because Hov and Crew took over the city and most of the good territories. What wasn’t taken by them, the Quatar family owned. So, once the streets freed up a little, he came backin town and wanted me to run the operations out here. With me and my little bro running shit, we were making big money. That’s why Vivo was just as pissed about Trey getting killed as I was. My hurt, along with his anger for the loss of money, wasn’t good for shit. That’s why that nigga told me to get my get back however I see fit. Even if I had to pretend to give Trey’s ex Jasmine’s bird ass friend a car to get loyalty. Jas was there when he was killed, and bitches talk. She knows what really happened to my brother.
