Power (4 page)

“Don’t put that energy in the air, man. We gonna win at this game.”

“We can’t win being stupid.”

“So you want me to take the Lambo back to the rental place?”

“That would be a good start.”

“Consider it done, big bruh. No sense in stressin’ the small shit. So what did you want to talk about?” Deion questioned, keeping the conversation moving along. Alex passed Deion the heroin under the table. Deion examined it without being detected, then he said, “Coke?”

“Nope. Heroin.”

“So you tell me to leave coke alone and you’re fuckin’ with heroin?”

“Look man, Isabella brought this from California.”

“Who?”

“Joaquin’s wife.”

“The gorgeous bitch with the nice ass?”

“Yep. See if you can get rid of it.”

“I can get rid of this with one phone call.”

“Really?”

“Dude, I been telling you we needed to get into this.” Alex took a swig of his water. He knew if anybody could get rid of heroin, it was Deion. “Can you get anymore is the question.”

“Yeah, what do we need?”

“As much as you can get. Just bring me back however much you can and we’ll split the profit 50/50.”

“Cool, and don’t forget…get rid of that Lambo,” Alex said, before opening up his menu to figure out what he planned on eating.

*  *  *

A cloud of smoke hovered in the studio in Southwest Atlanta. A dark-skinned rapper with ashy lips and gold teeth named G-5 sucked the blunt like a vacuum cleaner.  He routinely did this every time they smoked in the studio, thus earning him the nickname Hoover. Reggie and Deion looked on as 2Glocks waited for his turn to smoke.

“Hoover, can you pass me the fuckin’ blunt? After all, I did pay for this shit and it’s expensive as hell,” 2Glocks spit.

“You need to get your motherfuckin’ money back, homie, cuz this shit ain’t even all that good,” G-5 retorted, passing him the blunt.

“Just like a greedy nigga after he’s done smoked almost the entire blunt, then he want to complain,” 2Glocks laughed.

“Seriously, it ain’t all that.”

“Yo ass probably burnt out,” Deion said, adding his two cents.

“I guess so,” G-5 said.

“Amigo texted me, said he got some low coke prices,” 2Glocks said, changing the subject.

“What’s his price?”

“Why would you even risk dealing with somebody else? Besides, you know how Alex feels about fuckin’ wit’ people outside the circle,” Reggie nudged Deion and said.

“Ask him when can we get with him,” Deion said, ignoring Reggie. 2Glocks shot him a text back and seconds later his phone was buzzing.

“He wants to see us tonight, says he has ten,” 2Glocks informed him.

“The price?” Deion asked again.

“They probably gonna say twenty-five stacks or some high-ass number,” G-5 said, after inhaling the haze.

“This ain’t good,” Reggie said, shaking his head.

“I don’t see why not,” Deion remarked, wanting Reggie to shut the fuck up.

“You don’t know these people,” Reggie said, not getting a good feeling about the situation.

“First of all, Alex ain’t my daddy. Plus, I need to look out for my dudes. They gotta eat, man,” Deion countered.

2Glocks’ phone buzzed, “Amigo said ten apiece.”

“Those are Texas prices. How the fuck can he do that?” Reggie asked, as he shook his head in disbelief. “From past experience when things seem a little too good to be true they usually are.”

“These are Mexicans, nigga. They control the prices,” Deion rationalized.

“Yeah and this dude has a warehouse off Old National. I’ve seen the shit myself,” 2Glocks said, vouching for his man.

“So why won’t they give you shit?” Reggie wanted to know.

“I ain’t got the loot, dude,” 2Glocks admitted.

“Well why don’t you go pick up the work then?” Reggie suggested.

“I ain’t sending nobody my money,” Deion said, shutting that idea down.

“He wants to know when can we see him.”

“Tomorrow.”

“He said it would be better if we came tonight.”

“It ain’t happening. I said tomorrow,” Deion stated, not budging.

“Cool. Tomorrow it is,” 2Glocks said, after sending the text and getting a response.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Reggie huffed.

“Luckily for me, what you think doesn’t matter,” Deion said before continuing his conversation with 2Glocks.

Chapter 7

Run This Town

“Damn, this line long as fuck,” 2Glocks barked, when they arrived at Club Onyx.

“You know I don’t do lines,” Deion said, as he made his way to the front of the line with Reggie and 2Glocks right behind him.

“What up, D?” the lady up front taking the money said as she nodded her head to the security guard to let Deion and his people through.  A scantily clad waitress was at the door to greet them. As she led them to a table in the VIP section,
Fuck With Me You Know I Got It
was blaring throughout the club. Deion nodded his head to the beat as if he felt the song was speaking specifically about him. When they were seated, he ordered six bottles of champagne.

A pretty girl named Sapphire and another dancer Deion didn’t know approached the table. Sapphire sat on 2Glocks’ lap and began to stroke his braids. The other girl’s face wasn’t anything special but she had a body built for the stripper pole: fake tits and a mule ass. She stood in front of Deion, hands on her hips. “I’m Paris.”

“I’m D,” he said. He’d never give a stripper his full name.

“What can I do for you?” Paris eyed Deion and then her eyes went to 2Glocks and Reggie. She figured Deion had the money because he was the one paying for the champagne.

“We chillin’ right now.”

“Are you chilling or I’m just not your type?” Paris wanted to know so she wouldn’t waste her time.

“Ma, with an ass like that, you every nigga’s type, unless they don’t like pussy.”

Paris laughed and said, “I didn’t ask would you fuck me, I asked would you go out with me?”

“Depends.” She smiled when she noticed Reggie and 2Glocks staring at her ass. The lime green G-string brought even more attention to her already massive ass.

“Depends on what?”

“If you a cool chick or not.”

“If you saw me at the mall would you holla?”

“Probably not.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t holla at bitches. They holla at me. Everybody in the ATL know who I am.”

“Really? I’ve never heard of you.”

Deion tuned to Sapphire. “You better tell this chick who I am.” Sapphire quickly pulled Paris to the side and schooled her before sending her back over to Deion.

“I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, but I’ve really never seen you or heard of you,” Paris divulged.  She pointed to a group of guys on the other side of the club, dressed all in black with GMC on their T-shirts. “Now that Get Money Crew. Those niggas ball out.”

Deion looked over at the crew of men throwing money in the air like dummies.

“See the tall dark dude? That’s big L. He blew forty stacks in here last night,” Sapphire told Deion, like that shit would impress him.

“They’re more like the Get Indicted Crew,” Deion joked, but was dead-ass serious.

“We don’t have to flash,” Reggie boasted.

“Is that right?” Paris snapped, seeming unmoved.

“What do you think?” Deion asked, ready to dismiss the stripper.

“I know you cute as fuck,” Paris said, sitting down on Deion’s lap. He reminded her of Boris Kodjoe and he had paper, so Paris wasn’t trying to fuck the situation up. Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Paris,” she smiled.

“You know what? You might just work out.”

“But I’m not your type, remember?” she said in a flirty tone.

“Not really, but…” Deion was hoping Paris wouldn’t keep pressing the issue, but the truth of the matter was Paris wasn’t cute. Nice body but not cute, which made her fuckable but not much else.

“Let me dance for you then,” she purred when a Yo Gotti song came on.

“Go ‘head, give me one dance.” Paris frowned. Deion passed her a one hundred dollar bill and said, “Most of these clowns in here make you work hard for a hundred dollars. I only want one dance.”

Another girl with some beautiful tits, a petite frame and a nice ass walked passed. Deion stopped Paris and said, “Go and get her. Tell her I want a dance.” Paris looked pissed off until Deion handed her another hundred-dollar bill. Paris trotted away and came back holding the girl’s hand.

“I’m Passion.” Paris stood behind her. She motioned to Deion thanking him for the money and left.

Passion had one of those commercial smiles, with pristine white teeth, and her waist was so small Deion thought his fingers could connect around it. “Can I get a dance from you?” Deion asked.

“Yeah, I’ll give you a dance as soon as I come back,” Passion promised.

“Where you going?”

She pointed to the GMC crew that Paris had just been talking about. “They’re spending the money and I gotta go where the money is. I have a son to support.”

Deion moved in close to Passion, “So how much is it gonna cost me to take you out of the spot for the night?”

“I don’t think you can afford me, Hon,” Passion said, ready to brush him off.

“Some of you chicks workin’ tonight is clueless. You obviously don’t know who the fuck you talkin’ to.” Deion removed 50 one hundred dollar bills from his wad of cash.

She laughed and said, “I see you got a couple of stacks.” She twirled her hair. Deion found her so damn pretty and he wanted her bad as fuck.

“Five grand right now.”

“I can dance for you later if you want but I have to go back over there.” She pointed to the other V.I.P. area.

Deion placed five one hundred dollar bills in her palm and maintained eye contact.  “This is for your phone number.” he said.

“You wanna buy my phone number?”

“Yes.”

“It’s going to take more than that to get my number.”

“You gotta be kiddin’ me. The nigga you fuckin’ on a regular probably some loser that stay at home all day on PlayStation.”

“You think so?” Passion asked, not budging.

“I know how this game goes.” Then he placed five hundred more dollars in her hand and said, “What’s the number?” Passion spit those ten digits so quickly. Deion punched them in his phone. “Call you later.”

Paris approached the table smiling. “I see what your type is.”

“You my type,” Deion said.

“Am I?”

“Of course you are.”

“So how much you gone give me?”

“After the club, call me and let’s meet up,” he said, giving her his number before heading out. As Deion made his way towards the exit, he stopped for a moment when he noticed Passion gyrating seductively for one of the GMC dudes. He felt some kind of way that she was with that nigga instead of leaving the club with him. Right when he was to keep walking, his eyes locked with the dude Passion was dancing for. He nodded his head at Deion and then started smacking Passion’s ass, as if sending Deion a message that he got his bitch. Deion simply nodded his head back at the guy and made a mental notation of dude’s face, knowing they would cross paths again.

*  *  *

It was three a.m. and Deion was lying in bed wide awake when his phone rang. “Yo.”

“Hey, it’s Janay.”

“Who?”

“Paris from the club.”

Deion sat up on the bed. “What’s up, babe?”

“Trying to see you, daddy.”

“Come see me then.”

“You got something for me?”

“What you want?”

“You can give me what you gave Passion. And I’ll take care of you.”

“Come to the Luxe Condominiums in Midtown. 222 12th St., Unit 1802.” No more than fifteen minutes later, security was calling to inform Deion that Paris had arrived and was on her way up. Deion opened the door naked and wasted no time letting Paris know what he wanted. “Get on your knees.”

“Shouldn’t you be giving me something first?”

“I’m good for it. Get on your knees.”

“I need the money first.”

Without saying a word, Deion walked toward his bedroom and Paris was right behind him. There were a few thousands of dollars on the dresser. When Paris noticed the money, she stripped down immediately. Deion pointed to the dresser and said, “Count out a couple of thousand dollars.”

Paris was surprised with the amount. She wasn’t expecting Deion to pay her that much for sex.

“What’s up with your girl?” Deion asked, as he went over to his dresser drawer to get a condom.

“What girl?”

“Passion.”

Paris counted 20 one hundred-dollar bills. She put the bills in the pocket of her jeans that were lying on the floor then jumped up on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chin.  “I don’t really know her like that. I mean we cool, but I don’t know much about her except she from Alabama,” Paris revealed.

“Really?” he nodded his head.

“And somebody is takin’ care of her, perhaps a sugar daddy,” Paris continued, putting her hand on her hip.

“How do you know all of that?”

“Instagram tells it all?”

“Instagram?”

“Yeah, you know, the photo sharing app.”

“Yeah, I got an account with about 20 followers.”

“What’s your name? I’ll follow you.”

“I don’t remember it. I don’t be on there like that.”

“Well my name is ITParis, if you want to follow me.”

“Got you,” Deion said, sitting down on the bed. He was ready for Paris to suck his dick, so he could then fuck her and get her out of his crib. She placed her lips on his manhood and she could feel him rise in her mouth. Paris was anxious to put in work and earn her two stacks, with the hope this would be the first of many more sex sessions.

Chapter 8

Nothing Is Stopping You

When Deion and 2Glocks arrived to meet Jose, who lived in a very affluent part of Atlanta, Deion wasn’t sure what to expect. Jose had asked 2Glocks to come alone, but Deion let it be known that there was no way in hell he was going to let 2Glocks, or anybody else for that matter, leave with a hundred thousand dollars that belonged to him.

“Please, have a seat,” Jose said, after introducing himself. He was a rather tall Mexican and spoke very good English. They shook hands and Jose told Deion to take a seat in the living room while he and 2Glocks discussed business.  Deion sat in the living room but had his handgun in his waist. He wanted the business transaction to go smoothly but was prepared for combat, just in case. Deion had no intentions of letting anybody leave this house alive if somebody tried to take his money.

A well-built young Mexican dude with a red headband passed through the living room. Deion noticed how muscular his upper body was, as opposed to his legs. He figured the man had been incarcerated. A huge upper body and bony legs usually meant the person had been on that prison workout plan. Deion placed his hand on his gun that was resting on his waist. He kept his eyes on Muscles. The man smiled and waved before heading back into one of the back rooms. While Jose and 2Glocks were discussing business Deion decided to text Passion.