Flippin' the Hustle (15 page)

RJ pointed his finger in Derrick's face. They were only separated by a few feet.

“Watch your mouth. First and last warning.”

“Son, get your finger out my face.”

RJ was silent, his eyes beaming with fire as he slowly removed his finger from Derrick's face.

Derrick didn't know what to say or do, but he knew what he felt was not good. The friction between him and RJ had reached a point he never thought it would. As Derrick watched RJ walk into the kitchen, he knew their relationship had taken a blow that would change how they related to each other. What he hoped most was that he had not just experienced the foundation of a future problem that would become deadly.

A
s time went on, Derrick knew he had to face his mother about Naria. He had not mentioned her to his mother the last two times he visited Virginia over the past month. The fact that Naria had begun to inquire about her didn't make matters any better. Derrick filled his gas tank up and hit the interstate with Naria, swollen belly and all.

It wasn't until they were traveling down I-95 South and began to see the numerous Virginia signs that Derrick's stomach began to flutter nervously.

Once they reached the downtown Richmond exit that would lead them to the Eastside of the city, Derrick eyed the area that he had been raised in. Pointing upward, he explained, “You see those buildings over there?”

Shaking her head like an excited little girl, Naria replied, “Yeah. I see them.”

“Well, that's the projects that I was raised in,” he stated, navigating through the streets of Richmond.

“Yeah? Hold up,” Naria said. “Pull over.”

Derrick parked in front of the projects. There were a few guys about Derrick's age in front of one of the buildings.

“You know them?” Naria asked as the men began to smile when they spotted Derrick.

“It's my hood. I know everybody,” he replied.

“What's up, homie?” one of three men said as he and the others began hugging Derrick.

Afterwards, Derrick introduced them to Naria. “This is my world right here,” he said.

“Shit, look like a perfect world to me,” one of the men flirted.

Naria blushed. “You need to remind him of that.”

Another man interjected, “I'm not sure if you know, but your man was legendary out here.”

“Oh yeah?” Naria smiled and peeked at Derrick.

“Hell yeah. His brother Tree, may he rest in peace, kept him in the latest clothes. And not to mention Derrick was pushing all of his brother's cars. BMW, the Mercedes, the Porsche, you name it. All this started in high school. Every chick out here was after him. Be glad you snagged him. ”

Naria listened in awe as the men praised Derrick. She was proud to have him in her world as she heard how loads of women chased after him back in the day. It was a reminder that she was special, and he had chosen her for that reason. The fact that he had finally settled down was a reflection of the type of growth she needed in a man.

After chatting with the men, Derrick drove Naria to the newly built brownstone on Monument Street just a rock's throw from the legendary Byrd Park. He had the house built just for his mother just before she was recently released from the hospital. Just looking at the plush home and knowing that his mother was no longer in the hospital was a reminder that he had made the right choice in trading in the agency for the streets. While planning his exit from the game, he could not deny that the game had changed his life. It was the source of his mother surviving cancer, the root of him meeting Naria, and her becoming pregnant as well as his acquiring riches and his successful business relationship with RJ.

“You ready?” he asked Naria, holding her hand.

“Yes,” she responded.

Derrick tapped on the door, and felt his heart beat reverberate throughout his chest as he prepared to expose his mother to one of the most important people in his life and the news of their future child.

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Velma Richards, a woman that looked like an older female version of her son Derrick. “Derrick! My baby!” She hugged her son as if she hadn't seen him in years. Velma had been that way both times he had visited ever since she left the hospital. She had built up the strength to embrace the one person who made her life worth living during the time she was bedridden and too weak to move. Ms. Richards buried her face in Derrick's chest.

Naria looked on with a smile.

Once the heartfelt moment had played out, Ms. Richards turned to Naria, and said, “Honey, give me a hug, ‘cause if my Derrick brought you to meet momma it must be serious.” She embraced Naria. “Y'all come on inside.”

*****

About an hour later, Derrick thumbed through a photo album, allowing his eyes to swell. Seeing the numerous pictures of him and his brother Ray in various poses caused his emotions to flare.

Naria kissed his forehead and rubbed his chest as she sat beside him. “It's all right, baby.”

Derrick's mother left the room, wiping the tears that emerged from her eyes.

“Damn, big bro! Why you couldn't be here!” Derrick gazed at one of his brother's photos and inquired as if Ray were present. Had someone witnessed the conversation that ensued, they would have deemed Derrick insane. However, it was times like this that kept him from actually going crazy.

Naria just watched, realizing how deeply her man had been affected by the absence of his brother. She began to tear as Derrick's actions brought back memories of her losing her brother. After the two finished embracing and consoling each other, they bowed their heads and said a brief prayer.

* * * * *

Velma and Naria had spent time getting further acquainted during their miniature-shopping spree. “I'm so glad you're bearing my son's child. I believe he'll be a good father.”

“I know he will,” Naria asserted as they strolled through a mall.

“Our family has pretty much been reduced to just him and me, so I'm glad to welcome you aboard.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you. I'm so glad to have a grandchild on the way. Been trying to calm Derrick down and convince him to have children for years.”

“Well, you got it now.” Naria smiled, rubbing her stomach.

The women continued chatting on their way home. Once they returned home, Derrick assisted Naria to the upstairs bedroom. After making her comfortable, he headed back downstairs.

When he entered the den, his mother was sitting on the couch watching television.

“Naria's a real nice girl, Derrick,” she stated without turning her attention from the television. “I sense that she's a good soul in a world full of bad ones.”

“Yeah, she's a good girl, Ma,” he replied, taking a seat opposite his mother.

Cutting her eyes at Derrick, she blurted, “The agency called looking for you, Derrick.”

Although Derrick was prepared for the conversation, he sat there expressionless.

“Baby, I'm not sure what happened or why, all I'm concerned with is your well being.”

“I'm sorry, Ma. I just needed some time—”

Holding her hand up, she said, “It doesn't matter, Derrick. What's important is that you are well and happy. I see the way your eyes light up when you are in Naria's presence.”

He smiled. “So you peeped that, huh?”

“I'm your mother, boy. I'm supposed to. And I haven't seen that since you were a child.” She invited him into her open arms. “Now give momma a hug, and take good care of that girl and my future grandson.”

* * * * *

Derrick's brief hiatus in Virginia left him rejuvenated. He was back in New York, where RJ's managerial skills had their drug empire steadily declining. Derrick headed in the direction of their stash apartment in Queens.

From what RJ had told him while he was away, their sales had dropped drastically since the shooting. His plan was to bag and deliver the drugs as if nothing had changed, and then allow their distributors to explain what was going on.

Derrick and RJ cut enough dope to kill a small army, and then headed to Brooklyn to meet Lil' John. The entire time, Derrick was still feeling funny about the near physical altercation he and RJ had. He could tell that the issue still lingered in RJ's mind too. But Derrick was all business, determined to work with RJ for the sake of the money they both craved.

* * * * *

Quis sat on the spacious deck, overlooking the lawn. Surrounded by his two closest comrades, he listened intently to their detailed account of the failed hit on RJ. Quis didn't like to feel as if he set his people up for failure, and the account he was receiving seemed as if it was just that—failure.

“Nobody knew about the hit besides you and the two contractors, right?” he inquired, eyeing Hakeem closely.

“Nobody!” he assured.

Rubbing his temples in deep contemplation, Quis announced, “It's time we go into phase two.”

Both men knew exactly what Quis had in mind.

* * * * *

Derrick pulled behind Lil' John's new Jaguar, sitting on a set of 21-inch chrome spinners, and shook his head in disgust.

Parked in front of a residence that cost less than the luxury car, Derrick knew it wouldn't be long before his ex-employers paid them a visit.

He hopped out of his car, tugged at his tank top fashioned body armor, and then reached back in the car and grabbed the bag RJ held out for him. He made his way through the many hustlers that loitered the front of the residence, then inside to where Lil' John met him with a brotherly hug.

“What up? Am I glad to see you,” Lil' John stated, leading Derrick into the privacy of a rear bedroom.

“So what's up, B? Everything straight?” Derrick inquired.

“Yeah. Shit's straight. It's just a lot of shit going on in the streets right now,” he explained.

“Hmmm . . . Like what, son?”

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he looked to Derrick and said, “These dudes from Flatbush, some Muslim dudes or something, supposedly got a hit on anybody down wit' the BTB. The streets are saying that the leaders are already dead and they don't even realize it. That means that they're sending the message to you and RJ.”

Derrick grinned, “Oh yeah! That's real funny, son. ‘Cause I'm still standing here talking to you.” Tossing Lil' John the book bag, he added, “You handle these packs. I'm a handle these niggas.”

* * * * *

Derrick was furious. He demanded that RJ call in every favor he had owed to him on this one. He wanted any information that would assist in his murderous intentions.

The only image that continuously played in his head was that of his brother lying in his casket, lifeless.

Sitting in the apartment fuming, Derrick waited patiently for any information to materialize on either of the men. He was so desperate for an address or an automobile description, he was tempted to make a call to DEA headquarters, but quickly thought against it.

It wasn't until it was nearly two in the morning that RJ's phone rang with an address of one of the men.

Unconcerned with which man's address it was, Derrick gathered the utensils needed and bolted from the apartment, leaving RJ behind.

* * * * *

Racing out of the city, Derrick's mind was completely focused on the task at hand. The address was located in an exclusive Long Island Community.

The area was known for its opulent estates and routine police rounds, instinctively causing Derrick to rethink his barbaric approach. He detoured his route as he conjured a new game plan.

*****

After a brief call to RJ, and a stop at the Grand Avenue residence, Derrick was ready to execute his murder game.

Dressed in a mock police uniform, Derrick casually navigated his Cadillac toward Long Island. He meticulously drove through the rolling hills until he came upon the address he'd been supplied. Derrick took a mental picture of the house, and then continued on his way. Finding an empty church lot nearly a mile from the residence, he parked his car and trekked back to the residence virtually unnoticed.

It was nearly dawn by the time Derrick reached the porch steps of the residence. Taking his time, he stood there listening to the sounds of nature around him. There were absolutely no sounds coming from within the house.

He checked the time on his cell phone, which read 5:49 a.m. Derrick pulled the police officer's hat slightly over his forehead, and then rang the doorbell.

Calmly, he waited for someone to open the door as he went over his lines in his head and patted his 9-millimeter reassuringly.

Just as Quis kneeled down for his morning prayer, he heard the doorbell chime throughout the spacious house.

Unable to break his prayer, Quis concentrated. Subconsciously, he knew that Daneek would take care of whoever it was that felt it was necessary to ring their doorbell at such an early hour.

* * * * *

Patiently, Derrick stood there until he heard the door being opened.

“Yes, may I help you officer?” a woman asked through a crack in the door.

“Um . . . Yes ma'am. I'm officer Tory Draper of the Nassau County Sheriff's Office,” he said, introducing himself to the unseen woman. “It seems as if we have an escaped murder suspect on foot in the area, so our department is making sure our residents are safe . . .”

“Oh my!” The woman gasped, opening the door further. “Where is he? Is he anywhere near here?”

Inwardly smiling, Derrick replied, “Yes ma'am, he has been spotted in the area. Is your husband home?”

“Yes, he's here, but I think he's praying right now, but if you like, I'll get him for you.”

“If you would please, ma'am,” Derrick stated, anxious for the moment that awaited him.

* * * * *

Quis eased around the corner, gripping his .40 caliber Llama. It wasn't until he heard Daneek say, “Yes, may I help you officer,” that he realized he was holding a mandatory 15-year federal sentence in the palm of his hand.

Heading back into his downstairs study, Quis tucked the firearm back into its hiding spot. He made his way to the foyer of the entranceway. He heard, “. . . but if you like, I'll get him for you.”

The voice on the outside of the door stated something incomprehensible as Daneek closed the door and rushed directly into Quis' arms. “Oh, Quis! The police said there's some man who escaped from jail! And they said he's outside somewhere! And he's a killer!” she blurted in what seemed to be one breath.

“A'ight! Calm down, and go check on Breeze!” Quis stated, gripping her shoulders firmly. “I'll go see what's going on. Okay?”