Passion of the Streets Read online

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  Though the girls had finally fallen asleep, across town Jamil’s late night and early morning was just getting started. He had just pulled up to Shock’s crib and was headed down the sidewalk when Iverson’s truck whipped into the parking lot behind his car.

  Jamil looked over his shoulder before continuing up the walkway. He wasn’t really in the mood to talk to Iverson right then. In the pit of his stomach he felt Iverson was up to something. He’d called him after Gia had gone home to see if he wanted to get up together and head to Shock’s house. Iverson had come up with some lie about having something else to do, so Jamil dismissed it. The same way he’d dismissed him showing up late to the meeting with their client the other night, and dipping out on reviewing the contracts the following morning.

  To be honest, it was no big deal because Iverson had been on some old disappearing act a lot lately. Jamil knew the nigga was about his money, so there was no telling what he was up to. Whatever it was, Jamil wasn’t feeling it. If there was a get-money scheme that had that nigga acting funny with his day one homies, then he wanted no part of it.

  Jamil and loyalty went hand in hand, so the moment he felt a shift in the loyalty in any of his partners, he moved along. Not saying that he wouldn’t chop it up with them, it just wouldn’t be the same.

  “Milli Rock, wait for me, my nigga,” Iverson yelled from behind him.

  Jamil wanted to keep walking, but he stopped anyway. He stood on the stairs and watched Iverson walk up. When they were close enough, they dapped each other up and continued down the sidewalk and through the breezeway to get to Shock’s apartment.

  “Hell you coming from?” Jamil looked at Iverson.

  “Getting some pussy. You know me.”

  Jamil shook his head and knocked on the front door. “Nigga, you better slow your roll out here with these hoes. The streets ain’t safe no more, my boy.”

  Iverson gave Jamil a serious look before bursting out into a smirk. “I already know.”

  The front door to Shock’s crib opened and the girl standing there smiled at them both before moving to the side so that they could enter. Once they were inside, she closed the door and they walked to the back bedroom where Shock conducted his business.

  Shock was in the corner of the room seated in his recliner with a cigar in his mouth. He nodded at them both before standing up to shake their hands.

  “Young niggas. What’s good?”

  “Ain’t shit, my nigga. What’s good?” Iverson said.

  “You got it.” Jamil took a seat on the sofa across from where Shock had been sitting.

  “Milli Rock, you’re one unique-looking muthafucka, you know that, right?” Shock chuckled as he always did when he told Jamil that.

  Jamil smirked. “Nigga, tell me what’s good. Why you got me way out here on the white folks’ side of town this time of morning when I just left your ass not too long ago?”

  “You know I have to fuck with you.” He puffed his cigar again before picking up the remote and muting the TV. “Thought any more about what I asked you?” He held eye contact with Jamil.

  Jamil nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Shock then looked at Iverson. “You’re already on what we spoke about, right?”

  Iverson nodded with a huge smile on his face. “You know I don’t play around.”

  Iverson’s response was the type of shit Jamil had been thinking about earlier on his way into Shock’s house. When they had been on the phone earlier, Jamil had asked that nigga if he had thought any more about what Shock had offered them. His bitch ass lied and said he hadn’t. Clearly he hadn’t thought about it. There was nothing to think about. He was already on it.

  Jamil fought the scowl that was trying to surface on his face. Versus getting angry about shit that had nothing to do with him, he took a few deep breaths and sat back on the sofa.

  “How’s it looking?” Shock asked Iverson.

  “Like money.”

  Shock smiled and dapped him up. It was no secret to Jamil that Shock had offered him more weight to push into more areas—two more trap houses to run, with a warehouse of corner boys to make sure shit went right—because he’d offered Jamil the same thing. There was an added bonus to Jamil’s that Iverson was more than ready to take if he said no.

  Shock already knew Jamil could push the weight he’d given Iverson; he’d been serving that amount since he was eighteen. The load of product he distributed now was three times that, but that was no one’s business. Shock knew Jamil was a hard worker and as silent as they came. If anybody could handle seeing the amount of work and paper that he was holding, it was Milli Rock. Hence the name Milli Rock.

  “Young soldier, I knew you could handle that shit.” Jamil watched Shock hype Iverson up for no reason at all. Old as he was, his ass had better been able to handle that little-boy distribution.

  “Well, once that runs out, hit me. I got some more waiting. Also, try to get me the paperwork on the Miami job.”

  “Bet.” Iverson looked at his watch. “I got this li’l joint waiting on me, though, so I’ma check with y’all later.” He stood and dapped both Shock and Jamil up before leaving the room.

  They both waited until they heard the front door close before saying anything. Jamil went first.

  “Why you make that nigga feel like he a kingpin or some shit?”

  Shock smirked and licked his lips after removing his cigar. “It’s the game. If he’s happy, then he’ll do what he’s supposed to do.” He puffed on the cigar again. “Everyone ain’t like you, Milli Rock.”

  “What you mean like me?”

  “Self-made millionaire. Young fly nigga that’s on the grind relentlessly. A hustler that’s smarter than niggas twice your age.” Shock nodded toward Jamil. “You’re probably one of the richest niggas in the city, and nobody will ever know the shit because you’re cooped up in the projects with your junkie parents, running around here dressing like a corner boy.”

  Jamil tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t and started laughing. “Nigga, your ass is always trying to shade a nigga on the sly.”

  Shock grinned. “It ain’t on the sly, young nigga. The shit I say about you is true. You don’t buy yourself shit. I don’t know why the fuck you’re still at home with Owen and Zanetta’s crackhead asses. And I don’t even want to speak on the way you be curving these bitches.”

  Jamil pushed all of his hair over his shoulder and tied it back with a thick brown rubber band he’d been wearing around his wrists.

  “These hoes ain’t shit, that’s why.”

  “Got damn right, but that don’t mean you can’t get your dick wet at least once a week, nigga, damn. You’re twenty-four. You should be going to sleep and waking up in pussy. Blowing bags on these hoes just for fun.” Shock took a sip from the cup of brown liquor in front of him. “Shit, it ain’t like you don’t have the money.”

  Jamil rubbed the hair on his chin as he listened to Shock talk about his life. He was right; Jamil had more money stacked than probably every nigga in the city outside of Shock. And he could have any woman he wanted, he just didn’t want them.

  He wanted more. He wanted a female who challenged him. Someone who wanted more out of life than a sack of weed, free VIP booths, and the latest pair of Jordans. He wanted Gee.

  “These bitches don’t want me, Shock. That’s why I ain’t giving they ass nothing.”

  “Oh, they want you. You just don’t want them.”

  Jamil chuckled again. “Right.” He kicked his legs out in front of him, debating on whether or not he wanted to tell Shock about Gia. “I don’t know, though.” He sighed. “I might have found me a li’l joint that can get it.”

  Shock had his cup in front of his mouth when he moved it and looked at Jamil. “A joint that can get what?”

  Jamil shrugged nonchalantly. “Anything. Hell, whatever she wants for real. My money, my dick, my last name. Whatever Gee wants, Gee can get.”

  Shock looked
at Jamil with a proud smirk on his face. “Gee? That’s her name?”

  “Gianna, I just call her Gee.”

  “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about her?”

  Shock was the oldest of them all, so he was more like the older brother of the crew. He was always looking out for Jamil and Iverson, shooting them advice, and making sure they were good. They talked at least twice a day about anything from business to their personal lives. Jamil told him pretty much everything and had even considered telling him about Gee earlier, but she was there when Shock had called, so he didn’t.

  The two of them had long ago surpassed the business relationship. In Jamil’s eyes they were family now. He had been there for Shock during his federal bid and when his baby mama left him for his younger brother and everything. They were as tight as two niggas from two different mothers could be.

  “I just met her,” Jamil said.

  Shock didn’t look like he believed him. “A girl you just met can get anything you have?”

  Jamil smiled because it did sound crazy coming from someone else’s mouth. “Nigga, hell yeah. When you meet her, you’ll see why.”

  Shock downed the rest of his liquor and laughed. “Word? I get to meet her?”

  Jamil nodded.

  “Bet. Well, I’m happy for you, my nigga.” He paused before looking back at him. “What you think about what I asked you?”

  Jamil leaned his head to the side as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. He hadn’t really come to a decision yet.

  “I was game for it at first, but shit is different now. I mean, I just told you about Gee. I know we’re not that serious or no shit like that yet, but that’ll be a bad look, and I really don’t know if I want to mess us up just yet.”

  Shock sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. His mouth was twisted to the side as he bit the inside of his cheek. Jamil could tell he was thinking about what he’d just said.

  “You know how much money this shit is?”

  Jamil nodded.

  “And you’re willing to give it up?”

  “For Gee? Yeah.”

  “You can’t just explain to her what’s going on? She does know that you move weight, right?”

  “Yeah. Just not how much.”

  Shock nodded. “You need to hurry up and bring her to the house. I have got to meet Miss Gee.”

  Jamil was smiling when he told him that he was going to bring her with him to Shock’s cookout the following weekend. After a few more tries at convincing Jamil to take the job, Shock agreed to give him a little while to think about it before they moved on from that conversation. By the time Jamil was preparing to leave, he remembered something he’d been meaning to tell him about.

  “Aye, did I tell you some li’l niggas was shooting at me at the fair the other night?”

  Shock’s whole face frowned as he stared at Jamil. “Hell nah, you ain’t tell me. You ain’t know who they were?”

  Jamil shook his head. “Nope. I just heard one of them say some shit about me being that nigga Milli Rock and then they started busting.”

  “You ain’t wet them niggas up?”

  “Nah. For one, we were in public, kids and shit was out there. Then I had Gee with me. I ain’t want to do no shit like that with her there.”

  “You see their faces?”

  “Nah. They were wearing bandannas.”

  Jamil rose to his feet and Shock followed suit. They walked to the front door and Shock opened the door for Jamil to exit.

  “You know you’re going to have to handle that, right? Shit like that doesn’t go unpunished.”

  Jamil held his fist out for Shock to pound. “Most definitely. I’ma holla at you next weekend, though.”

  “Bet. Think about that job too, Milli Rock. That shit would be legit as fuck.”

  “I will.” Jamil left Shock’s spot and headed back to the hood.

  While he drove, he thought about the offer Shock had extended to him. He had indeed been looked at for the Miami spot, but in order to obtain it he had to go live in Miami for a few months and help one of Little Monty’s suppliers set up shop. That didn’t seem too hard, and Jamil probably would have done it if he didn’t have to pretend to be her husband in order to make it work.

  Alira was one of Little Monty’s main female dealers. She had pull in almost every state and was helping him expand more and more each day. This area wasn’t a fan of female dope girls, so she would need some help.

  Though Jamil had never seen her before, he’d heard a lot about her. From what he’d been told, she was the truth. Shock had told him that he would be the perfect person for the job because not only was he good with money, he was street smart. However, Gia had thrown a wrench into those plans.

  Though they weren’t together, he couldn’t see himself living and playing house with another woman and expecting Gia to be okay with it. That just didn’t make sense. He knew for a fact that if the shoe was on the other foot, he wouldn’t go for the shit, so he wouldn’t even bring it to her. It wasn’t like he needed the money anyway.

  He rode in silence lost in his thoughts until he pulled up at home. Like many nights before, it was light outside by the time he finally climbed in bed and closed his eyes. He wanted to call Gia before he fell asleep and let her know that he loved her, but chose not to.

  Chapter Ten

  “Should I always do the shit I do? Nah, probably not, but oh well. When it comes down to my money, anything goes.”

  —Iverson

  “What do you mean you have a plan? How the hell do you have a plan when you haven’t even done what I’ve asked you to do yet?” Little Monty barked.

  His voice echoed off of the walls, making him sound a lot louder than he really was. Anyone other than Iverson probably would have been intimidated by it, but he wasn’t. He knew Little Monty was a bitch and was only exercising all of the power he’d inherited because he had goons to back him up.

  Without that, Iverson would have bet all of the money in his pocket that he would never raise his voice like that to him. He would know better than to do such a thing because he wouldn’t hesitate to send Little Monty right back to his dead daddy’s ball sac.

  Iverson took a deep breath and sat up in his seat. “Like I said, I have a plan. That nigga Jamil’s head is so far up that girl’s ass, he won’t even see it coming.”

  Little Monty took a drink from the brown liquor in his cup before slamming it back down roughly onto his desk.

  “How can I believe that when your ass couldn’t even follow through with getting his ass knocked at the fair? How the fuck does one nigga chase off two niggas with guns? That shit was weak and your credibility is shot. I’m starting not to believe anything you say.”

  Iverson ran his hand over his head. True enough, the two niggas he’d paid to kill Jamil at the fair had indeed failed. That didn’t mean he was useless. All that meant was he’d picked a pair of amateurs to handle professional work.

  “It was packed and they got spooked. That shit didn’t have nothing to do with me. I paid their asses outright. I did my part, and when they didn’t deliver, I handled them.” Iverson scooted to the edge of his seat and looked at Little Monty. “That’s why I’m telling you to let me handle this. All you need is someone who can distribute in Miami the right way. I can do that shit.”

  Little Monty gave Iverson the side-eye as he continued pacing around his desk. From the look on his face, anyone could tell he wasn’t trying to hear shit Iverson was saying, but what other real choice did he have? He most certainly couldn’t go head up with Jamil and expect a good outcome. He wasn’t built like that.

  “What’s your plan?” Little Monty asked.

  Iverson smiled and rubbed his hands together. “I think you should let me set that nigga up. Take him to a drug deal and have him get mixed up in some type of paperwork shit he doesn’t normally handle. Shit will go south and you can have him killed for fucking up the product. Everybody in the game knows how it goes
when money is involved. Nobody will ever expect it.”

  Little Monty took another sip of his drink before taking a seat behind his desk. He said nothing at first, trying to determine whether or not what Iverson was saying would work. It sounded good, but once again it would put him on the spot to do all of the dirty work.

  Yeah, he wanted Jamil dead, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be the one to do it. “Let me think on it. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  “Bet.” Iverson stood up and left his office.

  As soon as Little Monty heard his front door close, he flicked on his security cameras and watched him walk to his car. Once he was sure he was gone, Little Monty sat back in his chair and pulled the blunt from his drawer. After lighting it, he laid his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.

  A few deep breaths in and out had him feeling a little better already. Taking Jamil out was proving to be a lot harder than he’d expected, the main reason being he simply wasn’t into that kind of thing. The only reason he was even involved in the drug business right then was because of Big Monty’s untimely demise.

  For years Big Monty had been grooming him to take over if it were to ever come to that, but he still didn’t have the heart for it. The only reason he’d survived this long was because he was smart. Sometimes being book smart outweighed being street smart. In his case, that was all he had on his side.

  Movement at the door opened his eyes. When Little Monty saw Daisy standing there in her light pink gown, he could feel himself hardening beneath his desk. Daisy was so beautiful and perfect. He couldn’t imagine living this life without her.

  They had been through so much together, and she had held him down every step of the way, bending over backward to do whatever she could to make it all easier for him. She was a real winner. He turned to watch her as she walked into his office. Her full breasts bounced with every step she took. The wide set of hips spilling from beneath the gown led down to the thickest pair of thighs he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing.

  Even at forty-four, Daisy was putting women to shame. There weren’t too many women her age, or even half her age, who had a body like that, which was why he loved her. Not only did she take care of him, she took care of herself. She was a healthy eater and a regular at the gym near their house.