Billy was roused from her slumber by the sound of her cell phone’s message alert. Cracking one eye, she looked at the screen and saw she had five missed calls. Figuring they could wait, she tossed the phone to the foot of the king-size bed and rolled over. It was at that moment that she remembered she didn’t have a king-size bed.
Billy leapt up so fast that she was almost airborne. Her eyes frantically looked around the room, trying to figure out where the hell she was. The room was decorated with an expensive bedroom set and plush carpet, but Billy didn’t recognize it. Tossing the covers back, she was relieved to see that she was still fully dressed, with the exception of her boots.
“Don’t worry, your virtue is still intact,” Marcus said, leaning against the bedroom door. He was dressed in a pair of gray sweats and a tank top, showing off his tattooed arms.
“How did I get here?” she asked in a raspy voice.
“On the wings of gossamer,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “No, but seriously, you fell asleep last night during the movie.”
Billy shook the fog from her brain and recalled the events that led to her winding up in Marcus’s bed. After dinner they had gone out for drinks at a lounge uptown, where they danced the night away. Afterward, Marcus had invited her back to his place to watch Imitation of Life. Normally, she wouldn’t have gone back to a guy’s house on the first date, but she felt safe with Marcus. Besides, she had called Jean and given her his license plate number before they’d left the restaurant. Marcus had gone out of his way to make sure she had a good time and she was greatly appreciative of that. It had been quite some time since she had gone out and had a genuinely good time, especially with a man. He scored big points in her book.
“You better not have been in here trying to grope me in my sleep,” she said as she stretched.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. When I grope you, I want you to be wide awake,” he teased her. “By the way, someone has been blowing your phone up all night. I hope you don’t have a crazy boyfriend that’s gonna try to run up in here and pop off.”
“Knock if off,” she said, picking up her phone. The calls were from 212 numbers. Each number had the same prefix, but the last four digits were different. They looked familiar, but she couldn’t place them.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“I hope not,” she said, dialing her voicemail box. Billy listened as the first message played.
“Hello, this message is for Willamina Jefferson. This is Nurse Donna Reid at Harlem Hospital, calling in reference to your sister Yoshibelle Johnson. Please give me a call back at.…”
“You cool?” Marcus asked.
“I don’t know,” she said nervously. “It was someone from Harlem Hospital calling about Yoshi.”
“Is she okay?”
“I’m about to find out,” she said, dialing the number Nurse Reid had left on the message. After telling the operator who she was trying to reach, Billy was put through. “Hi, this is Willamina Jefferson, you called about my sister?” she asked, praying nothing had happened.
“Ms. Jefferson, I’m a nurse at the rape center at Harlem Hospital,” Nurse Reid informed her.
“Oh my God, rape center? What’s happened to Yoshi?” Billy asked frantically.
“Ms. Jefferson, your sister was brought in this morning. She was found raped and beaten outside her apartment building.”
“God, please don’t let this be happening. How? Who?”
“Ms. Jefferson, we really don’t know much right now. The police came to question her, but she was still too shaken up to be much help. She just requested that we contact you.”
“I’m coming over there right now,” Billy said, ending the call.
“Billy, what’s wrong?” Marcus asked.
“Yoshi was raped last night,” she said, searching for her other boot. “I don’t know much yet, but I’m on my way over to the hospital to find out. Can you call me a cab?”
“Fuck a cab, I’m driving you,” he said, grabbing a hoodie and his car keys. She opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her silent. It was obvious she wouldn’t be rid of him that easy. The two of them made a mad dash out of the apartment and headed into Harlem to find out what the hell had happened.
Slick sat on his bed with his mouth hanging open. On his lap was a copy of the Sunday paper, with an article telling of a young man murdered not even three buildings away from him. They found Ralph slumped in the hallway of his girlfriend’s apartment building, shot multiple times. The police said that when they questioned his girlfriend she simply said, “He went out to get a pack of cigarettes and never came back.” Though Valerie wasn’t yet a suspect, the police didn’t quite believe her story. It seemed odd that Ralph would’ve been “just going to the store” carrying all his worldly possessions. Not needing to read any more, Slick tossed the paper into the corner.
The police deduced that Ralph had been murdered over a drug beef, but they were only partially right. The way Slick figured it, Ralph had gotten spooked by the botched hit and tried to hightail it out of town. Apparently, Jah had caught him before he was able to make his escape. It was just as he’d told his boys, never underestimate your enemy.
Grabbing his P89 from the dresser drawer, Slick walked to the window and scanned the projects. Ralph’s murder had changed the rules of the game considerably. If Jah had gone out of his way to murder Ralph, he would surely be coming for Slick somewhere down the line. When that time came, he would be prepared.
“Damn, I’m starving!” Pain said, taking another forkful of his scrambled eggs. “Wrecking a bitch’s pussy takes a lot out of you.” After their romp with Yoshi, him, Jay, and Lex had gone to the diner to grab some breakfast.
“Yo, shorty had some good pussy,” Jay added. “Lex, you missed out, kid.”
Lex took a sip of his orange juice. “Man, that shit was too intense for me. First Rel clocks the bitch on some wild-man shit, then he’s fucking her like she kicked his dog. Y’all say what you want, but I don’t think she was having as much fun as the rest of y’all.”
“She was loving that shit, nigga. You hear the way the bitch was moaning,” Pain said. “You and that nigga Groovy stayed outside like some little faggots.”
In the beginning, Lex was just as down to run a train on Yoshi as the rest of them, but something about it didn’t feel right. The story Rel fed them about her liking to role-play and reenact rapes was a weird request, but Pain knew some chicks who were like that. He used to fuck with this Jamaican chick who would demand that he slap her face until she bled during sex. In this day and age, all kinds of new fads were popping up. He had expected Rel to shove her around or shake her up as part of the game, but he was totally thrown off when he hit her. Shorty looked scared shitless, but Pain and Jay were so coked up that neither of them seemed to notice. The men took turns fucking the girl in her ass and pussy while ravaging her breasts. When Lex saw blood, he excused himself from the scene.
“Son, I was gonna try and crack for some head, but this stupid-ass nigga kept that fucking T-shirt wrapped around her mouth,” Pain said, snorting from the leftover coke that was dripping in the back of his throat. “I need another shot of that freak bitch.”
Lex became very serious. “Let me tell you something, my man, ain’t none of us ever going near that freak bitch again. Y’all can believe that bullshit Rel put in your heads about role-playing if you want, but that shit was straight-up rape.”
“Man, we ain’t no fucking rapists. She wanted it,” Pain tried to convince him.
“My dude, you can’t be that fucking stupid.” Lex shook his head.
“Fuck that rape shit y’all niggaz is talking. We caked up out this bitch!” Jay declared. “If shorty tries to get on some funny shit, we’ll just pay her off.”
“Whatever, man,” Lex said. His attention was drawn to Pain’s cell phone rattling on the table. Pain looked at the screen and sucked his teeth, but didn’t answer. He had been looping someone all night, and Lex was starting to think that it wasn’t a female like he’d told them.
“Who the fuck keeps ringing your phone?” Jay asked.
“Nobody important,” Pain said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Let’s get up outta here.” He stood, dropping a fifty-dollar bill on the table.
The three men made their way out of the diner and into the morning sun. It was almost twelve o’clock, so the sun was nearly at its highest point. On their way back to the truck, a black Lincoln pulled to a stop next to them. The back doors opened up and three Spanish cats stepped out, holding pistols at their side. By the time the group even noticed the men, Paco was coming around from the driver’s side.
“What’s up, Pain?” Paco said with a smile.
Pain’s eyes got as wide as saucers. He looked from his crew to Paco and the men carrying the automatic weapons and was mad at himself for leaving his gun in the car.
“I’ve been trying to call you since yesterday,” Paco said, standing directly between the trio and their car.
“What the fuck is this shit about?” Jay asked, trying to hide his nervousness.
“Oh, you ain’t know? Your boy here owes me a grip and I want it. You got my money, Pain?”
Lex couldn’t believe what was about to go down. He always told Pain that his habit was going to get him into some shit, but he never imagined getting caught up with him. He tried to gauge the distance from where he was standing to the truck and wondered if they would gun him down before he made it.
“Paco, I ain’t got it all, but—”
Paco waved his hand for silence. “Save it. I told you when you took my shit that the clock was ticking. Time’s up.”
The world suddenly began to move in slow motion. Pain saw his partner Lex fall before he heard the shot. Paco had drawn a weapon and blasted Lex twice in the chest. The aspiring star spun and collapsed to the ground. His body heaved one last time and the life drained from his body. Jay made a move, giving Pain fleeting hope that someone would stand with him in the battle for his life, but to his surprise Jay took off running. He had almost made it to the corner when one of Paco’s people gunned him down. Jay took four shots to the back and fell face-first into the street. Pain found himself alone, staring down the barrels of several automatic weapons.
At that moment, Pain’s entire life flashed before his eyes. He was about to become one of the biggest rising stars in hip-hop, but the little greaseball Spanish cat standing in front of him was threatening that. In a last attempt at saving his life, Pain lunged for Paco. Before he had even gotten within arm’s length, a slug tore through his side. He was so coked up that he didn’t even realize he had been shot until the second bullet hit him. He tried to run off, but received two more slugs to the back. Pain lay on the floor, kicking his legs as if he were still trying to run. As he watched Paco standing over him, gun trained on the middle of his forehead, all he could think about was how he was never gonna make it onto MTV.
“Yo, kid, you made the papers!” Spooky exclaimed, showing Jah the article about Ralph’s murder. “You pushed that boy’s shit smooth back.”
“Why don’t you say it a little louder, I don’t think the people on the fifth floor heard you,” Jah said, breaking up a block of weed on a magazine.
“Fuck these square-ass niggaz!” Spooky shouted. “They know who the fuck we be. Our murder game is superofficial.”
“Spooky, don’t be saying that shit too loud. The block is on fire right now and I ain’t trying to get knocked with this thing on me.” Jah exposed the butt of his .40.
“Jah, why the fuck do you still have that thing, didn’t I just give you another gun?”
Jah sucked his teeth. “Spooky, stop sweating me.”
“Yo, you been on some real moody shit since the night of the party. What’s good with you, duke?”
“Nothing, I just got a lot on my mind right now,” Jah told him.
“You know what,” Spooky said and sat beside him on the stoop, “I think the problem is your ass is backed up. You need to get yaself some pussy instead of always running around plotting on a dollar.”
“Nigga, when I’m plotting, your ass be right alongside me.”
“True,” Spooky said, then laughed. “But on some real shit, your head ain’t been in the game lately. I might pop a lot of shit, but I love you like my own blood. If something is on your mind, you know you can talk to me about it.”
Jah looked over at Spooky to see if he was bullshitting, but to his surprise his friend’s eyes were sincere. “Dawg, if I run this shit down to you and you try and play me, it’s on!” Jah said seriously.
“My dude, I wouldn’t even do it to you like that. Holla at ya boy.”
Jah paused for a minute, contemplating if he could go through with it. “A’ight. I met a chick,” Jah finally admitted.
“I knew you din’t have that sick puppy look in your eyes for nothing!” Spooky punched him in the arm. “Do I know the bitch?”
“Nah, you don’t know her, and she ain’t no bitch, foul-ass nigga. We was on some cool shit at first,” Jah continued, “then one thing led to another and we ended up fucking. Now the shit is all awkward.”
“Awkward? You got yourself a shot of pussy. What’s awkward about that?”
Jah looked at him, not believing his ignorance. “It ain’t about the pussy, man. I mean, don’t get it fucked up, the pussy was the bomb, but feelings got involved. I mean, I’m trying to fuck wit’ shorty like that, but I don’t know if it’s a wise move.”
“Why not, is she all fucked up or something?” Spooky asked.
“Oh, nah, shorty is bad, but she ‘bout her scratch.”
“So you paid for the pussy?”
“Hell no!” Jah assured him. “I just mean she’s high maintenance.”
“Oh.” Spooky nodded. “I’ll tell you like this; you already know better than to be letting a bitch be out here climbing in your pocket, so we ain’t even gotta touch on that. We’re soldiers on these streets, so we always think as such, but at the same time we’re men. You could blow every bitches back out from here to D.C., but ain’t nothing like having that one shorty that makes you feel whole. A chick that makes you always want to be yourself, smell me?”
“Yeah,” Jah said, seriously taking in Spooky’s words. “You’re right, my dude. I’m just gonna lay it out for shorty and let the cards fall wherever they fall.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Spooky nudged him. “And when you speak to Yoshi, ask her if she’s got a friend.”
“How the hell…?”
“Jah, you’re like my brother. I know you.” Spooky gave him a wink.