Forever a Hustler's Wife (5 page)

“Columbo, have you had a case stick yet?” Des asked. “It’s a wonder that you still got a job on the force.” Des normally would never indulge in any conversation with a police officer, but Detective Columbo was different. He was the kind of police officer who gave the men in blue a bad name. Detective Columbo was worse than a hemorrhoid. He was always up a man’s ass and full of shit. It got his dick hard to lock up a black man who was making more money than he was—legally or illegally.

“Scum like you make me work harder to keep the streets clean” was Detective Columbo’s comeback.

“You’re a waste of good taxpayers’ money, Columbo,” Des said, fighting down the urge to spit in the man’s face.

“Too bad I can’t work on this one,” Columbo said, pretending to be dejected. “Well, you won’t have to worry about the good taxpayers of Virginia’s good money going to waste. The state of Maryland will be here to pick you up soon.”

Des looked at Columbo, dumbfounded. “Maryland?” He asked.

“Just keep playing stupid,” Columbo grunted. “That’ll make a good defense.”

CHAPTER 4

The Take Over

A
fter his court hearing, just as Yarni had promised, Des was released from jail. Once out on bail, he decided to take things slowly and spend a couple of weeks enjoying his little baby girl and catching up on missed time with Yarni. But it wasn’t long before it was back to business as usual.

Des was in his study, ending a call on his cell phone, when he heard the doorbell ring. He looked through the peephole before opening the door to find his nephew standing there.

“How you get past my gate?”

Nasir ignored the question. “Unc, I need to talk to you,” he said, coming through the door in an uproar. Perspiration was on his forehead, and worry, rage, and frustration were all over his face.

Des was concerned. “What seems to be the problem, nephew?” He started leading Nasir toward the study but stopped short with his nephew’s words.

“I need some guns,” Nasir said, pacing the hallway.

“Guns? What for?” Des was surprised that whatever the problem was, it was already out of hand.

“This nigga gots to go.” Nasir continued pacing the floor.

“Come on in here,” Des said, ushering Nasir to his study. He closed the double doors behind them before asking, “What nigga? And why does he have to go?”

“The motherfucker I been getting my work from,” Nasir said, fuming. “He trippin’.”

“About what?”

“He a hating-ass nigga, that’s all.” Nasir balled his fist as he explained, “I move three onions a week for this nigga, Monte, all in eight balls. And the only reason I ain’t movin’ more is because the chump put me on a limit.”

“Calm down and take a seat,” Des said, pointing at the couch to the left of his desk. “What happened? What exactly did he do?”

Nasir sat down while Des took the seat at his desk. “Look, Unc,” Nasir started, “I ain’t got time to get into all that with you. The nigga disrespected me, and either you gon’ loan me yo’ tools or you ain’t.”

“Hold tight, youngin.” Des put his hand up. “I’m not gonna send you running into a brick wall.” Des tried to reason with his nephew. “What’s this…about him disrespecting your name?”

“He ain’t nobody for real. I’m slinging the majority of the work fo’ him. I’m moving shit faster than a nigga on a laxative diet, and the motherfucker still charging me top dollar. That’s some bullshit.”

“Besides a disagreement in prices and inventory, why you so mad?” Des said with a smile.

“Like I was saying, I move more shit than any of dem other niggas copping from him combined,” he stressed by pointing to his chest. “My money ain’t never short. But when I tell this nigga that I need better numbers and mo’ product, he tells me to suck his dick. Ain’t no motherfucker gon’ disrespect me like that. I’ma give him something to suck on, that iron dick.”

“Aaahhh, now we getting somewhere,” Des agreed, finally understanding his nephew’s frustrations. “Peace this, though. Let me tell you something an old head told me a long time ago about murder.” Des walked over to the couch and sat down next to his nephew. “Murder is not a crime you commit on someone else’s time. You don’t want to be in prison for the rest of your life and have to tell your family or anyone that’ll listen that you’re there because someone made you mad. You have to learn to master your emotions if you want to make it in this world.”

“I never looked at it like that,” Nasir admitted, calming down a little as he gave some thought to what his uncle was saying. “But how do I get ’im to play fair?”

“Don’t play with him,” Des said with a no-nonsense attitude.

“But that nigga got the best dope in town,” Nasir explained. “I can put a one on it and more than double my money.”

“Then go out of town and find some better shit and put him out of business. Make him your competition, and he can do one of two things: Ride with it or collide with it.”

“I ain’t got time to shut down shop to go out of town on a scavenger hunt. That’s too much trouble.”

“Now we have a new problem, huh?”

“I guess I’ll just have to put up with this clown until I get what I need.”

Des listened to his nephew go on, but in his head, he already knew what he had to do. He wasn’t going to let anybody carry his nephew, who was the closest thing he had to a son.

Des stood up and took a deep breath. “I can make things happen for you,” he said. “But you ain’t playing for marbles anymore.” Des looked down at Nasir. “You playing for keeps.”

“You ain’t said shit,” Nasir said, standing up and giving Des a pound. “On the real, a nigga like me is done playing period. It’s time to bring it to these fuckin’ cockroaches. Oh, it’s on,” Nasir said with a devilish smirk as he paced excitedly and pounded his fist in his hand.

“Look, you gotta understand that this is serious,” Des said, stopping Nasir in his tracks by grabbing him by one shoulder. “Your involvement could cost you yo’ life, my life, yo’ freedom, and it can put you on the proverbial path of no return. This ain’t no muthafuckin’ movie. This shit is real. Once you take it there with them clowns, there ain’t no turning back.”

“No risk, no rewards—that’s what you always told me, right?”

“That’s right,” Des agreed, proud to know that his nephew had been listening.

“I know the dangers of the trade, and I ain’t under no delusions,” Nasir assured him. “Look, Unc, I want to eat. Please give me my place at the table,” Nasir pleaded. “I can’t lose at this. I mean, Unc, let’s look at it like this. If I’m taking instructions from one of the masters of the game, how can I lose? You been a playa at this shit long before I was even born.”

Des didn’t really want to see his nephew do what so many had failed to do before him: try to tame an animal that was untameable. The drug game was a wild beast that was obedient to no one.

But Des could see the hunger in his nephew’s eyes and could hear it in his voice. He knew that Nasir was going to keep trying his hand whether Des helped him or not.

“Listen, Nasir, I know with yo’ father getting killed when you were lil’ and with me being in the penitentiary that you found your way the best way you could.”

Nasir looked at Des before he could finish and hopped on the defense. “Uncle Des, I been doing a’ight for myself.”

“And I ain’t knocking that,” Des said quickly.

“But like I said, it’s firsthand from a nigga like you,” Nasir said. “You’re a legend in this city.”

Des held up his hand as if to tell Nasir that he needed to say no more. Des walked over to his desk and sat down in his dark burgundy high-back leather chair. Both the chair and the high-glossed, solid cherry desk with the matching credenza were compliments of one of his associates, crafted and shipped all the way from Hong Kong. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out two Zinos cigars and handed one to his nephew. He then pulled out his white-gold engraved lighter, placed his cigar in his mouth, and put the orange-blue flame to the tip. He got up, walked over to Nasir, and lit his, too. He then took a seat in his leather chaise.

“Sit down,” he instructed Nasir. “Listen to what I’m saying and listen good.” Des pulled on his cigar, crossed one leg over the other knee, and then spoke. “See no evil and hear no evil. Never fold or faint, and ‘no, I can’t’ is always the wrong answer.”

As Des shot straight from the hip the vital rules of survival, Nasir sat like an obedient student listening to his instructor.

“It’s a lot of things you gotta watch out for—the wolves, women, fake friends, and snitches, but remember, the police are our common enemy. And for no reason whatsoever do we ever cooperate with our common enemy. I don’t give a fuck if they are torturing you for information, lie like a dog. Lie your way into something, lie your way out of something, lie on your gun, your money, your dick—but never,
ever
cooperate.”

Nasir focused his undivided attention on Des, sitting forward in his seat to make sure he didn’t miss a word that was being spoken.

“Your word must always be your bond,” Des continued, taking another puff on his cigar and waving it in the air. A cloud of smoke hovered over his head like a crown. “Always pay your debts off the front end of your money, not the back end. Never become a victim of your hustle.”

Nasir nodded, almost unable to contain his excitement: He was entering the majors.

Des continued. “If you sell drugs, don’t use them. If you pimp hos, don’t trick.”

“I feel that, Unc.” Nasir nodded as his uncle dropped jewels, trying to hide his excitement at finally being made privy to something he had wanted his entire life.

“And never let a woman come between you and your man or before your business.”

Nasir wanted to comment right there, but he didn’t because he wanted his uncle to continue to bestow his blessings. “The best-fought war is a war that you don’t have to fight, but if it has to go down…whoever shoots first usually wins.”

Nasir laughed, the cigar dangling from his mouth, but Des gave him a cold stare that took the smirk right off the younger man’s face. “Be quick to forgive, but slow to forget. And when in doubt, kill them all and let God sort them out.” Des pulled on his cigar before continuing.

“It’s never personal. If it turns out that you were wrong, take comfort in the knowledge that it’s better to be live-ass wrong than dead-ass right.”

Nasir laughed to himself at how Des was laying down the law and thought about how he would one day pass this on to his own son. He was glad that his uncle had given him such powerful pieces, and he was prepared to live or die by them.

Des got up from the chaise and walked over to the liquor cabinet. He retrieved two glasses from it and said, “These have been universal rules of the game, generation after generation, decade after decade. The rules never change—only the players. So make sure through it all you stay true to this…and to the game.”

“I will,” Nasir said, nodding with sincerity.

Des poured them both a shot of cognac. He handed Nasir his drink then raised his glass to toast. “Welcome to the major leagues, nephew.”

They clinked their glasses, and they both drank the potent brown liquor. Des promised Nasir that he would make a formal introduction to his new supplier within the next couple of days. He gave his nephew a fatherly hug and walked him to the door.

A few minutes after Nasir left, the doorbell rang again. Nasir was back, and this time he wasn’t alone.

“What the…” Des said to himself as he opened the door. He looked at the short brick-house-built girl standing before him with black hair. Her eyebrows were the same color as her hair, and they stood out on her chocolate complexion.

“Unc,” Nasir said, one arm thrown around the girl standing next to him, “this is my girl, Lava.”

“Hi, Unc,” Lava said, reaching out and giving him a warm hug. For such a strong name, she had a soft, squeaky voice. “Nasir talks about you so much, I feel like I already know you.”

“How you doing?” Des greeted the girl in a sour tone.

“She gotta use the bathroom,” Nasir cut in.

Des shot Nasir a puzzled look then nodded to the girl and said, “Go ahead.”

Nasir showed Lava to the restroom, cut on the light for her, and then returned to Des.

“You had her sitting in the car all that time?” Des asked him.

“Yup.” Nasir nodded with authority, like he was the man.

Des shook his head and warned his nephew, “POP—paper over pussy.”

“Unc, no disrespect, but it ain’t like that. She’s my Bonnie, my gangsta boo, my thug misses.”

Des turned his nose up.

“She’s my Yarni.” Excitement lit up Nasir’s whole face as he continued to describe what Lava meant to him. “She’s the most thorough chick any nigga could love. And she got heart,” Nasir stressed in the most sincere tone. “And guess what, Unc?”

“I’m scared to guess,” Des said to his nephew.

“She’s mine, and she loves the fuck out of me,” Nasir said proudly.

Des had never heard his nephew talk about a woman like that—ever. He knew that at an early age his nephew had gotten plenty of pussy and had never been sheltered when it came to women, so he was baffled by this girl.

“Yeah, it sounds like you fell victim to the pussy.”

“It ain’t the pussy, Unc,” Nasir assured Des. “For real.” He paused. “I done had better pussy than that. Besides, I make the pussy good. It’s her loyalty and her will to love me and me alone that stands out.”

“How can you be sure, man?” Des questioned. “Bitches change with the wind.”

“I know hos come and go, but Lava is staying. She passes test after test. Matter of fact, she welcomes that shit.”

Des could see that there wasn’t any need to argue with Nasir concerning this girl. She had him convinced that she was the Virgin Mary. Des just hoped Lava was the real thing. If not, she could pose a distraction or major flaw for Nasir.

“I need to ask you something,” Des said, looking around to make sure Lava was still in the restroom.

“What?” Nasir asked, walking closer to his uncle.

“What you ’bout to get into is real dangerous. It can cost you your life if anyone around you folds. Do you really trust her?”

Nasir answered without hesitation, “Without a doubt.”