Prince of the City (7 page)

“The main reason why I pulled you up was because I saw a lot of myself in you.”

“And the reason I'm accepting the position is because I want to be rich like you.” They both smiled.

“Take me back to my car,” Michael ordered. “I'll set up a meeting with the three of us later to discuss the rest of my plan.”

 

 

Chapter 8

 

-THE MEETING-

 

 

s Michael, Sam, and their soon-to-be new partner, Gerald, sat in the living room of Michael's apartment discussing the next few months, Black Sam felt it was his time to speak up.

“Hey. No offense to you, Gerald, but we don't need a new partner, especially since we ain't got but a few months left anyway.” Sam's eyes shifted from both Gerald to Mike as he spoke. He was looking for an agreement of some kind, but neither man answered. For a brief moment, silence filled the room. Mike stood up and went to fix a drink.

“Well, Sam, I see it like this. There's enough money for everyone here. I have a lot of respect for young Gerald. My mission is to see that everyone comes outta this comfortable.”

“I'm sure Gerald is man enough to make it on his own.”

“I have no doubt in that, but if we leave him in the same spot, then he'll never get out the game.”

“Mike, explain what you're trying to say.” Sam demanded while looking back at both he and Gerald.

“What I'm saying is that Gerald doesn't have a connect, and once we stop hustling it'll be like handing him out there to the wolves. Now, I fucks with this young nigga here, and I'm not about to just sell him out like that. I'd rather pull him in and let him get enough money so that when we pull out, he'll be able to step off also.”

“What if he doesn't want to step off? What if he wants to continue hustling?” Sam asked.

“Then that's on him. But we already talked about that, and his decision is to get a meal ticket and step.”

“So you're telling me that you and Gerald already had this meeting without me, huh? You done made your decision, huh? So you're saying fuck what I think. I ain't got any say-so, huh? The last time I checked we were equal partners, right?” Sam pounded his chest with his fist while giving Mike a hard stare.

Michael stood in the middle of the living room, and with fire in his eyes he pointed his finger in Black Sam's face.

“Nigga, what the fuck you mean equal partners? If it wasn't for me coming home and puttin' this shit together, your black ass would still be riding around in that raggedy-ass 190E Benz, making a punk-ass two thousand a week. Nigga, I had the money, the plan, the connect, the moves, the respect, and most of all, I got my loyalty. Where yours at? How come I gotta find out from other niggas uptown that you losing a hundred to two hundred thousand shootin' craps, huh? Nigga, the last two months you lost over five hundred thousand of our money! You think I ain't know? But Sam, I see everything. So nigga, don't ever try to talk to me about equal partnership. I'm the CEO of this organization. I built this shit from prison, had a vision, took it to the streets, and made it reality.” While the two friends argued, Gerald sat back and watched in amazement. Things started to get so heated that he began to question if Michael's idea was a good one.

“I understand that. All I'm saying is that you made the decision without me. Personally, I like young Gerald. I have no problem with him, but when you make a decision like that, it should be conducted properly,” Sam advised through clenched teeth.

“That's the reason why we're sitting in my living room now, Sam. Making a decision. All we got is a couple months left. So what we do from here on out is make as much money as possible. No spending and no lavish gambling. Agreed?”

“What about Gerald? What position is he playing?” Sam asked, pointing at Gerald.

“Gerald is gonna handle the collection from every lieutenant and turn it in at the end of the day.”

“Damn Mike. Not only did you make him a partner, but you gave him my job,” Sam replied with confusion and disappointment. Instantly, he felt betrayed.

“I did that for a reason, Sam. I want us to spend more time together. I gotta keep you focused before you go off the limb with this gambling shit.”

Wrinkles formed in the center of Sam's forehead. “I'm a grown-ass man. I don't need you babysitting me!” he snapped.

“Sam, sometimes grown-ass men make mistakes. Now I want you to take Gerald around and introduce him to all the lieutenants on every strip,” Michael said, turning his attention to the new addition to their family.

“Gerald, after 9 pm, your job is to collect whatever money has been made for that day, then find out how much blow didn't sell. Whatever is left over; give it to the lieutenant for half the price. That way he can pay his workers. Can you handle that?”

“Yeah Mike,” Gerald responded.

“Now, at nine o'clock, I don't care where you at or what you doing, make sure your ass is at them strips picking up that money. I don't care if you have to get out of some pussy to do it, but bring the money straight over here and take the remaining packages out for the morning. At five thirty in the morning, you're gonna pass off the packages to the lieutenants. The only lieutenant that has the right to request more blow is Kojack. Whatever he wants, give it to him. He moves the shit.”

“I don't know about that, Mike, 'cause Fats been moving a lot of shit too,” Sam said.

“Yeah, but did you know Fats had a warrant out for violation of his parole? Ain't no sense giving him a lot of shit and then finding out he got locked up. That's like giving it away.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean,” Sam agreed. “Ay, Gerald, you think you can handle that?”

“Yeah, I got it like clockwork.”

“Good then. Mike, let me talk to you out here on the balcony in private,” Sam said.

“Okay. You want a drink?” Michael asked Sam.

“Nah, I wanna be levelheaded when we talk.”

They went out on the balcony and sat in silence for a moment while overlooking the Jungle of Southeast D.C.

Michael finally broke the silence. “What is it you want to talk about, Sam?”

“You're my best friend and I love you, but what you said to me in there was disrespectful. I'm not talkin' 'bout your statement about being CEO of this organization and how you built it. I understand all that, 'cause it's true. But when you questioned my loyalty, I felt disrespected.”

“Well, look at it from where we stand. How would you feel if you had to find out from another nigga that I was doing something that could tear down this plan we got going?”

“To tell you the truth, Mike. I don't give a fuck what another nigga says,” he fearlessly announced while staring him directly in his eyes.

Michael sighed before speaking. “Now you're putting your feelings in it, Sam. Look at what you're doing. Five hundred thousand, Sam? A half a mil' that could be sitting in them briefcases is uptown in somebody else's hands. That ain't no play money. Any nigga that got half a mil' to play with is a rich muthafucka. The last time I checked we ain't rich. We're just living comfortable.”

“Yeah, that's the other reason I called you out here.”

“What are you getting at? Spit it out.”

“Well, I was thinking, man. All I got is myself. I ain't got no wife and kids and all that responsibility shit. I ain't got no degree in marketing. All I know is these streets, and this is where I wanna be, out here in the jungle with my kind. For real, Mike, I ain't tryna quit. I wanna be a multi-millionaire. Fuck two or three million. I want two hundred million. I wanna be that rich muthafucka you talkin' 'bout that can afford to gamble half a mil' whenever he wants. I don't want nobody holding my stash. I wanna hold my own stash.”

Michael nodded. “I ain't got no problem with that. We only got a couple months left to do this shit, though. Right now, we working with 3.6 mil' plus the hundred forty Gerald got.”

“You mean to tell me that he only got a hundred forty thousand and you still making him a partner? Then in a couple of months he walks away with an easy meal ticket?” The very idea made Sam's insides burn with jealous anger.

“When we first started, you only had thirty-five thousand to my hundred thousand. And did I piss a bitch 'bout that?” Michael cocked his head and narrowed his brows.

“Nah, but I've known you all my life. We've been best friends since elementary school. You've only known this nigga for seven years in the joint.”

“Ten years, Sam. Get it right. We still kept in touch when I got out, and on top of that, he was a part of this when I first put it together in the joint. Technically, he was a partner long before you. Shit, he helped me build this shit. At least I owe him that much.” Michael didn't understand why bringing Gerald in as a partner bothered Sam so much.

Sam just looked out into the jungle. “Well, I'm not quitting. You and that nigga can do whatcha want. But me, I'm hustling for life. This is all I know, and all I need you to do for me is call Frank and tell him that after you quit, I'm a still be copping from him. Can you do that? At least you owe me that much respect.”

“I've always respected you, and I do respect your decision, although I think it's a bad move for you. Plus, Big Luke is 'bout to come back on the scene anyway.”

“Man, fuck Big Luke! Luke got enough money to last a lifetime. Me, on the other hand, in all reality I'm broke compared to him.”

“Yeah, but a nigga can be comfortable with what you got.”

“Maybe. But for some reason, I don't feel comfortable.”

“All right then. I'll call Frank later on today and talk to him for you.”

“Good then.”

“For right now, everything is still on schedule. But after these couple months pass, we can split. Then you can do your own thing. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Sam responded.

They shook hands and embraced. Afterward, Sam looked into the jungle and took a deep breath before the two returned to the living room.

“Well Gerald, welcome to the organization. You 'bout to witness more money than you ever seen in your life,” Sam told him.

“Yeah, I know,” Gerald replied, “and believe me, I appreciate it.” He extended his hand for a shake. Sam left him hanging.

“I know your ass does. Now, you ready to roll? 'Cause as of right now, your ass is on the clock.”

They laughed.

“Yeah, let's go.”

Ten minutes later, as Gerald and Sam rode up Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue in Sam's Mercedes. Sam turned down the music on his radio.

“So, how do you feel about Mike?” he asked Gerald, taking a quick side-glance at him.

“I got a lot of respect and love for Mike. For real, Sam, Mike doesn't know it, but I look up to him in a father-son type of way.”

“Yeah, I can see that. So what you plan on doing with a funky-ass million dollars when you quit?” Sam asked.

“I plan to get a few soul food restaurants out here. Then chill and lay back.”

“Oh, yeah? You got a girl? Any kids?”

“Nah. All I got is Mike and my man Carlos down Lorton.”

“Damn, slim, and you mean to tell me you wanna quit and give up all this money you're gonna be making?”

“Shit, you know this don't last a lifetime.”

“Yeah, I know, but don't you want more than one mil'?”

“Sam, I ain't ever had a mil'. To me, that's filthy rich,” Gerald replied with a chuckle.

“Nah, young nigga, two hundred mil' is filthy rich.”

“I agree with that. So what are you getting at?”

“Look, Mike is gonna quit. There's no doubt about that. But me, I'm still gonna be moving and making a lot of money. I'm a take over Southeast, and I need a good, young nigga like you in my corner.”

“I dunno 'bout that—” Before Gerald could finish his sentence, Sam cut him off.

“Fuck what Mike says!” Sam shouted, instantly irritated. He slammed his foot down on the brake, almost stopping the car in mid traffic. “I'm talking about getting rich. Mike's talking 'bout living happily ever after with his wife and kid.”

At that moment, Gerald knew he could no longer share his true thoughts with Sam. Gerald saw deception in Sam's eyes the same way he saw it in Donnie G's eyes down Lorton. He knew Sam wanted to take Michael's place, but he didn't know just how badly Sam wanted to be Mike, or the things he was willing to do to be placed in that position.

 

Chapter 9

 

-THE CONNECT-

 

 

t 5 pm, Connie called home. “Hey baby, what's up?” she asked Michael.

“Nothing. I'm just standing out here on the balcony,” he replied.

“Damn, Mike, you stay out there. You ain't planning on jumping one day, are you?”

“Come on. You know I'll never leave the two of you. I don't care what I'm facing, and anyway, only suckers take their own lives.”

“Baby, I'm just playin'.”

“I know. So are you ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, I'm ready, baby. Did you get the tickets?”

“Yeah, I got two seats in the front row. A nigga had to pay extra for that.”

“I bet you did pay extra. I better not see you lusting over Patti LaBelle either.”

“Baby, the only woman I got eyes for is you.”

“You better. Well, I'm 'bout to go pick up Malik from aftercare and take him over to Linda's.”

“Is Linda gonna be home to watch him?”

“Yeah, baby. Why you say that?”

“Come on, Connie, we both know Linda's a top-flight whore.”

“Michael, don't talk about Linda like that. That's my best friend and sister, and besides, she been quit doing that.”

“So what's her profession now? Call girl?”