Dollar Bill (23 page)

CHAPTER 21
Can We Talk?
“Yo, Dollar Bill,” Redd called to Dollar who was getting ready to climb inside of Mr. Owens's Navigator. “I didn't know you were out here. You didn't come in today. Matter of fact, you haven't been coming in at all lately. Can I talk to you for a minute, just real quick?”
“Oh shit,” Dollar said under his breath. He hoped Kera hadn't been running her mouth and he wouldn't have to beat down her pops for stepping to him.
“Yo, Mr. Owens. Can you hold up a sec?” Dollar asked him, who he tried not to act awkward around knowing that he had set him up for a robbery.
“Sure,” Mr. Owens agreed. Dollar then followed Redd into his office.
Redd sat down at his desk, took a long, deep breath then stared at Dollar. He paused momentarily before speaking. “I won't beat around the bush with this,” Redd said. “So, I'll just get right to the point. Kera has been acting really strange lately.”
“Look, Redd,” Dollar interrupted.
“No, let me finish,” Redd continued. “I could tell she was hiding something from me.”
“Redd,” Dollar tried to intercept.
“Just listen,” he said sternly. “Kera told me about the night at the club and I'm not going to lie, I was completely shocked.”
“I can explain,” Dollar said.
“No need to explain. I mean, hell yeah, I'm pissed that you didn't tell me. But teenagers need someone they can trust and I'm just glad she chose you.”
At this point Dollar was mystified. Since when did a father approve of who takes his daughter's virginity?
“I still can't believe my baby snuck into a twenty-one and over club and drank alcohol,” Redd said. “If you hadn't been there to see to it that her and Leece got home safe, then I don't know what could have happened to my baby girl. Some pervert probably would have taken advantage of her and I'd have to go back to prison on a 187.”
Redd began to laugh as Dollar contributed his fake laughter.
“Well, Mr. Owens is waiting on you so you better get going. I just wanted to say thanks for looking out for my baby girl. I'm glad I can trust you. Loyalty is priceless.”
“No need to thank me, sir; anytime,” Dollar said as he headed back outside.
“By the way, did you hear what happened to Mr. Owens? He got robbed. Two thugs did it, I think. It's a fucking shame,” Redd said.
“Yeah,” Dollar added. “A fucking shame.”
 
 
Dollar and Tommy became a little nervous as they sat in Jimmy's waiting on Ral to show up. He was already twenty minutes late. It wasn't Ral's absence that had them nervous. It was the fact that two cops came in and were dining at the table right behind Dollar and Tommy.
“You two ready to order or do you still want to wait on the other person?” the waitress asked.
“Uhh, actually, he just called me on my cell phone,” Dollar said. “He's stranded so we have to go pick him up.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said as she stood up from her chair. “We got to go pick him up. Thanks anyway though. If it doesn't take too long, we might be back.”
Dollar and Tommy exited the diner suspiciously. Tommy was walking a hundred miles per hour.
“Slow down,” Dollar said to Tommy. “Relax.”
Tommy slowed her pace and began to take quick breaths. “Now what?” Tommy asked as Dollar walked her to her car.
“Let's just drive to your house. We'll talk there.”
“Not my house,” Tommy said. “What if those cops follow us?”
“Girl, you talking silly,” Dollar said.
“Meet me at the DQ on Broadway instead.”
“Okay,” Dollar agreed. “Drive slow. Stay calm and relax, dammit.”
Dollar followed Tommy to the DQ where they each ordered a small vanilla ice cream cone and sat in Tommy's car to eat and talk.
“Now you see what the fuck I'm talking about when I say interference and circumstance?” Dollar said to Tommy.
“What's going on, D?” Tommy said, confused. “I mean, Ral should have at least called you on your cell or something.”
“I paged him on the way here and he ain't hit me back yet,” Dollar said. “I should have listened to you in the beginning. You said we shouldn't fuck with Ral.”
“What we gon' do, D?” Worry covered Tommy's face. “I can't do this. My nieces. This is too much. I'm sick of this shit. I can't do this.”
“Come on, T. Be cool. Everything is going to be okay.”
“I don't want the cops sniffing around my tail, and for what, a few punk-ass stickups? I got enough saved to maybe start doing my own thing. Fuck this shit!”
“Dammit, Tommy, stop talking like that,” Dollar said. “We can't let one monkey stop our show.”
“We not fucking teenagers anymore, Dollar. Can't you see that? I might as well have done that fucking bid nine years ago because I'm locked up anyway. I'm locked up between these fucking city walls. They trapping me, man,” Tommy said out of frustration. “I don't think the game was designed for us to win, D.”
“Stop pumpin' out that negative energy,” Dollar snapped.
“We can do this shit. Just you and me. We can make shit happen.”
“Yeah, but Ral knows everything. He knows what we're about. If he's playing us while he's part of the plan, imagine what he'd do if we cut him off.”
Dollar sat listening to Tommy who was on the verge of frantic. His soft serve vanilla ice cream cone began to melt down his hand. He rolled down the window and threw it out.
“Well,” Tommy interrupted Dollar's thought. “What are we going to do about Ral?”
“We don't have a choice,” Dollar said. “He's poison. We got to spit his ass out.”
 
 
“I told you that you'd be back,” Storm said as she straddled Dollar who was sitting on the couch in the Champagne Room. Storm slowly crooned to the music.
“I guess you were right,” Dollar replied as he stuck a twenty dollar bill between Storm's breasts after already having paid Bear the one hundred dollars just to get back in the room.
“I'm always right.” Storm put her hands behind her back and began to untie her bikini top. Dollar grabbed her hands and stopped her.
“What's wrong, poppa, don't you want me?” Storm said as she pulled Dollar's head to her breasts.
“Yeah, I want you,” Dollar said as he began to lick them. “I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything. Tell me what you want and tell me how do you want it,” Storm said as she began caressing Dollar's penis.
“I want M&M. Exes, overdose,” Dollar said while pulling Storm hard against his penis.
Storm immediately pushed away from Dollar and got off of his lap. She went and poured her a glass of champagne and started drinking it.
“Did you hear me? M&M.”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Storm said as she took another sip of her champagne.
“Oh, you don't hear me now? It ain't like I'm muthafuckin' 5-0. Don't even try to front. I already know underneath all that sex appeal you ain't nothin' but a hit ho.”
Storm continued to ignore Dollar.
“Well, maybe you'll hear this,” Dollar said as he pulled out fifty one-hundred dollar bills and waved them in Storm's face.
The corners of her mouth turned up. “Well, as they say, money talks,” Storm said, removing the money from Dollar's hand nice and slowly.
Never once did Dollar think twice or even reconsider his decision. Ordering a hit on Ral was preventative maintenance. As far as Dollar was concerned, it was only a matter of time before Ral killed himself anyway. Ral had been missing meetings with the drug counselor and word on the streets was that he'd been lacing his blunts with cocaine. Dollar felt that Ral's destructive ways would somehow be the downfall of his mission. Boys or no boys, friend or no friend, Dollar couldn't just sit back and let that shit happen. This was his second chance at the game and he'd be damned if he let a dope fiend be the cause of his downfall.
Dollar paid Storm a portion of the money for the hit up front and promised her the rest once he received the call from her stating that the deed had been done. And on that note, Storm let Dollar hit it from the back on the strength.
CHAPTER 22
Pro-choice
Dollar had finally given in to Kera's persistence. She wasn't going to stop hounding him until she got with him again. Dollar had already hit it once, so why not hit that twice? Kera wasn't anything he couldn't handle, so he invited her into his home. No dinner, no movie, no nothing. Dollar refused to butter up to Kera. If she wanted to be like Stevie Wonder and pretend she couldn't see the real, then that was her own mistake. Like all sleeping beauties, Kera would someday find that Prince Charming to wake her up with a genuine kiss. Until then, Dollar might as well keep doing what he do.
Dollar couldn't really enjoy being inside of Kera. His thoughts were on Hennessey. He had been kickin' it with her for a minute now, yet he hadn't gotten into her head. He hadn't gotten into her drawers.
Dollar would have definitely wanted to spend most of his time with Hennessey, but she always made it seem like she was so busy. The most time she would allot Dollar was lengthy conversations on the phone. It seemed like that was the closest he was going to get to her. Talking dirty after dark just wasn't doing the trick for Dollar anymore. One could say that Hennessey had Dollar questioning his manhood.
Hennessey was a real woman, not like Kera and Mya who were barely a class up from being chickenheads. As Dollar lay on top of Kera, the more he thought about Hennessey and how she continued to reject him, the deeper he shoved himself inside of Kera.
“Oh shit, Dollar,” Kera cried out.
“Umm, you like that, bitch?” Dollar said, pumping harder and harder. “You like that shit?”
“Dollar, stop it!” Kera cried out. Her cries were silent to Dollar's ears as he aggressively assaulted Kera's insides.
Kera had shown up at Dollar's house that evening on the inevitable drive-by; no call before coming, just an “I was in the neighborhood.” All that meant was that she wanted to be screwed. This was the third time she had pulled this stunt.
“Oh shit. I'm cummin',” Dollar roared. “I'm cummin'.” He wrapped his hands around Kera's throat as he ejaculated.
Tears of pain and anger strolled down Kera's face as she lay beneath Dollar who was breathing heavily. Eventually he got up and showered. Normally he probably would have led Kera into the bathroom with him so that they could shower together. Just like the last time, she would have probably let him get one more off up in her, but this time Dollar showered alone, leaving an emotional Kera alone in his bed.
As the water ran down Dollar's butter pecan toned six pack, for the first time he saw his life for what it was. He had put in work hustling. He had the riches, jewels, and a nice crib out of the hood, yet his mind was still in the ghetto. Did he ever really want to leave the streets alone, no matter how much money he had? It must be true what they say about being able to take the boy out of the ghetto, but not being able to take the ghetto out of the boy.
Dollar realized why a lot of cats didn't leave the hood. It was like an addiction, a fear. They were scared to leave what they had learned to love and what loved them back. Dollar loved the streets. He was married to them, forsaking all others.
After Dollar got out of the shower he dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He went back in the bedroom to find a fully dressed, teary-eyed Kera grabbing her purse and sweater.
“Aren't you going to take a shower?” Dollar asked Kera.
“Fuck you, Dollar,” Kera said.
“Little mama, what's wrong?” Dollar said, none the wiser to the situation at hand.
“What's wrong? I don't know what that shit was,” Kera said as tears flowed down her face.
“What what shit was?” Dollar asked, completely ignorant of what was going on in Kera's mind. “You didn't cum?”
“That sex, fucking, screwing or whatever you want to call it. It sure wasn't making love.”
“Making love.” Dollar laughed. “We ain't never made love. People who care about each other make love. You and me ain't like that.”
“You are one big piece of shit, do you know that? I can't believe I fell for you. Fuck you, Dollar. You don't ever need to say two words to me again, ever.”
“Am I supposed to be mad? Are my feelings supposed to be hurt? Ma, this was just a fuck thang. I thought you knew,” Dollar said, spelling it out in black and white to Kera.
Dollar's words were destroying Kera. He felt it was time to get rid of her anyway so he might as well go for the jugular. “You let me hit that the first night you were ever with me. That was a ho move. Did you think I was going to make a ho my girlfriend?”
Anger took over Kera's emotions. She looked around the room to see what she could pick up to throw at Dollar. Her eyes settled on a crystal base lamp that was on the nightstand.
Dollar, noticing Kera's intentions, quickly walked up on her. “Bitch, don't even think about it,” Dollar said.
“Now I'm a bitch, too,” Kera cried. “I can't believe this is happening. What's happening to you?”
“You talking like you know me. You done popped over here a few times to get laid and now you know me? You don't know me, girl. I'm Dollar Bill. I'm that muthafucka. You lucky to be one of my chosen ones.”
“Well, I don't feel so lucky. I feel like I've just been raped.”
“Oh, so now you 'bout to pull a Mike Tyson situation and scream rape. I guess I better walk you down to the car so that I can avoid catching a case,” Dollar said.
“Funny you should make the comparison. You're an animal just like him, and it didn't take twelve jurors to convince the world of that.”
“Here, call 911,” Dollar said, throwing the phone at Kera. She tried to block it from hitting her. It skimmed across her fingers, breaking one of her nails. “If you think I raped you, go ahead and call the police on me. Put me back in jail. But don't play games with me, girl. You really don't know who you fuckin' with. I'm a grown-ass man. You do what you need to do. Either call the police or step. You make the choice.”
“Nah, I don't need to call the police,” Kera said. “Your punishment will come from a much greater wrath. Mark my words. You think I'm a bitch? Wait until you meet karma.”
“Get the fuck out,” Dollar said, throwing himself on the bed as if nothing mattered to him in the world.
Kera began crying harder. She watched Dollar lie on the bed as if he could do no wrong, as if he had done no wrong all of his life. How could he be so cold? Kera asked herself this question over and over as she walked outside, not caring that tears were flowing down her face.
The people she walked past looked at her with such pity. A couple even stopped to ask her if she was okay.
Kera knew in her heart, and her head, that this would be the last time she would ever make the walk from Dollar's apartment, and that she would never hear him call her little mama again. But fuck that shit! She wasn't going to be the young and dumb little number Dollar had taken her for. She wasn't going to keep falling. Her actions weren't going to mimic the words to an Alicia Keys hit song.
Kera jumped into her white Saturn that was parked a couple of blocks down. She could hardly get the key in the ignition she was so upset. Once she finally started the car, she sat there and recalled the words her mother had told her during “the talk.”
“The man that breaks your cherry will break your heart, and even ten years down the road when you bump into him on the streets, he'll still make your heart beat fast and your palms sweat,” her mother had told her.
Instead of going home, Kera went where she could be comforted. She needed someone to talk to who would understand what she was going through.
Kera pulled up to Leece's house and parked on the curb in front. Her legs wobbled the entire journey to Leece's doorstep. Her body honestly felt as if it had been abused. She hesitantly knocked on the door.
Leece, wearing her girlie pink J Lo terry cotton short set, peeked through the peephole. She hadn't talked to Kera since they'd gotten into that argument a couple months ago. She had no hard feelings though. No matter what, Kera was her girl. They'd been friends too long to ever let a dude come between them. She didn't hesitate to open the door.
When she opened the door, Kera was standing there with her head down. She tried to stop crying long enough to say “hello” and to say “I'm sorry” to Leece, but she couldn't.
Leece's eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled at the sight of her heartbroken friend standing before her. She put her arms around Kera. Leece stood there holding Kera for what seemed like forever, holding back the words, “I told you so.”
 
“You haven't been in the salon in a while,” Mya said to Dollar as he sat down at her table to get his fingernails worked on.
“I been busy,” Dollar said short.
“Too busy to call?” Mya pried.
“Something like that.”
“I tried calling you all last week,” Mya said as she placed Dollar's hand in a bowl of water that she knew was too hot.
“Damn!” Dollar said, jerking his hand out.
“Oh, is that too hot for you?” Mya asked sarcastically without getting a rise out of Dollar. She poured some of the water out and added cold water to the bowl. She then placed Dollar's hand back into the bowl. “Is that better?”
“That's cool.”
“But, like I was saying,” Mya continued. “I tried calling you all last week.” She began to file the nails on Dollar's hand that wasn't in water.
“Oh, for real?” Dollar said, knowing darn well he had seen her number on his cell phone caller ID and ignored the calls. “Ouch.”
Mya had accidentally jabbed Dollar with the nail file. He pulled his hand away from her and checked out his finger to see if any blood had been drawn.
“Is there something on your mind?” Dollar asked Mya. “If it is just cut the crap and spit it out, ma.”
“I need to talk to you,” Mya said.
“I'm listening,” Dollar replied.
“Not here. Can we get together tonight?”
“Here you go,” Dollar said, throwing his hands up.
“And what is that supposed to mean? Oh, let me guess, you just get women left and right wanting to talk to your fine ass, huh? Well, what I have to say is far more important. Trust me,” Mya said.
“Let me just go on and put it out there to save us both the time. Your shit was good, ma. I won't deny that. But I ain't really trying to get down like that on no permanent kind of—”
“Don't fucking flatter yourself,” Mya said, raising her tone. Customers and workers turned their attention to her. “I'm sorry,” Mya apologized to the onlookers before gearing her words back to Dollar. “Look, what I have to say won't take up much of your precious time.”
Dollar could tell Mya was becoming emotional.
That's what I get for fucking with a white girl,
Dollar thought. In the future he knew to stay away from young girls and white girls. He was pretty sure he'd gotten rid of Kera; now for Mya.
“I'll meet you at your spot at about nine tonight. Is that cool?” Dollar said.
“Yeah,” Mya replied. “I'm sorry for raising my voice and cussing at you.”
“No problem,” Dollar replied. He knew Mya's dramatics were just an excuse for her to get Dollar back over to her place and in bed again. He didn't blame her for being addicted. Hell, she had gone black so she couldn't go back. That was a well-known fact.
Mya finished up Dollar's nails. He skipped the pedicure today. He had a little bit of business to take care of before meeting up with Mya. As the time neared to meet with Mya, he really just wanted to stand her up and find a new nail tech, but he couldn't put off the inevitable. So he kept his word and went to her place.
When Dollar showed up at Mya's, she had a candlelit dinner prepared for the two. Dollar gobbled down the roasted duck, red potatoes, and green beans. He wasn't impressed with the fancy meal as much as he was hungry.
During dinner, Mya went on and on about her sister and her husband and their two children, about how happy they were. Dollar couldn't have cared less. He had no intention of ever meeting them.
After dinner, the two engaged in intercourse that wasn't even worth describing. It was off the hook the last time. Maybe all that liquor had something to do with it. Dollar humped on Mya for about two minutes before he felt himself ready to cum. He snapped the condom off and jerked on Mya's belly. Dollar then got up, went into her bathroom, and cleaned himself off. When he returned he had a towel in his hand that he had already used to wipe himself off.
“Here you go, ma,” Dollar said, throwing the towel at Mya. “Here's a towel to clean yourself up. I'm fixin' to go.”
Dollar was hoping that Mya caught on to the significance of him throwing in the towel. He was finished with her. As a matter of fact, he was finished with hoes, period. He wasn't about to let them fuck up his game by fucking with his head with all of their emotions and drama.
“Dollar, remember, I invited you over here to talk,” Mya said, getting up from out of the bed to slip on her robe.
“Well then talk. I have a lot I have to do tomorrow.”
“I'm pregnant,” Mya blurted out, before she could lose her courage.
Dollar stood speechless momentarily before bursting out laughing. “You're kidding, right?” Dollar continued laughing. “And I guess I'm the daddy.”
“Of course you are,” Mya said. “I haven't—”
“Been with anybody else,” Dollar mimicked. “Here we go. Okay, humor me. How much is the abortion going to run me?” Dollar said, pulling money out of his back pocket.

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