Flippin' the Hustle (8 page)

RJ's eyes locked onto a residence a few houses down, where he was told they would find Taz. Following Derrick's lead, RJ leaned back into the seat and waited for their suspect to emerge.

After two long hours of camping out in front of the residence, Taz finally surfaced. He hopped behind the wheel of a late model Lexus, and then pulled off from the curb, oblivious to the fact that he was being followed. Just as Taz turned onto Flatbush Avenue, Derrick hit the blue flashers that had been obtained from a party store.

The fluorescent blue lights instantly caused Taz to pull to the side of the road.

Once the Lexus was stopped, Derrick looked over at RJ. I got this, son,” Derrick said. He casually exited the car in full police mode. It felt awkward for him to be conducting a law enforcement routine during an illegal act with one of the most dangerous criminals in New York City. He cautiously eased up to the window and announced, “Put your hands where I can see ‘em!”

“Man, I ain't do shit!” Taz yelled from the car.

“I said put your fucking hands where I can see ‘em!” Derrick repeated.

Slowly, one of the man's wrist appeared out of the window, and then the other.

Derrick slapped both cuffs around his wrists.

“Hey! What the fuck? I—” Taz protested, before he was abruptly silenced by the humongous barrel of the P-90 being shoved in his face.

“Just shut the fuck up!” Derrick spat, opening the car's door.

Taz instantly complied. Derrick snatched him from the car and searched him. The very next thing Taz felt was a cranium-shattering thud that suddenly dropped him to the pavement.

Eyeing the spectacle from the car, RJ smiled jovially. He knew at that moment Tree was an asset to BTB.

Derrick
sat across from Naria in an exclusive restaurant on New York's East River. As the candlelight danced across her face, Derrick looked deep into her mesmerizing eyes. He found a certain tranquility that had always eluded him. The fact that he was in her presence somehow transferred just enough of that peacefulness to make him yearn for more.

“Tree, this has been such a beautiful evening,” Naria commented with a smile.

“Naria, it was my pleasure. I really enjoy your company.”

The way she gazed into his eyes, it seemed as if she was trying to bore into his mind to judge his honesty

“Is something wrong?” Derrick asked, noticing a sudden change in her facial features.

“No. There's nothing really wrong. I was just wondering if I'd ever get the opportunity to learn your real name, because I'm dying to know,” she stated.

Without thinking, Derrick blurted, “Trez Richards.” The lie rolled off his tongue so smoothly, he didn't even know where it came from.

“Trez. That's a beautiful name. Do you mind if I call you Trez instead of Tree?”

“As long as you keep it between you and me,” he stated in a seductive tone.

Leaning in closely, Naria licked her lips sexily."Anything we do will be between you and me. Now how about we head to a more comfortable setting where ‘you and I' can get to know one another better?”

Derrick tossed two Benjamin's on the table, grabbed Naria's hand, and led her from the ritzy restaurant. Just before they stepped outside, Derrick sarcastically asked, “A lot better?”

Naria smiled and nodded. She allowed Derrick to lead the way.

*****

Derrick sat on the balcony of the condominium watching the water crash into the shore. The relaxing atmosphere allowed him to rehash the scene that he'd participated in just forty-eight hours before. After he'd successfully knocked Taz unconscious, they drove the man back to RJ's drug house on Fulton Street, reuniting with Lil' Roy, Shay, and the twins. Before leaving, RJ gave specific instructions that the unconscious, handcuffed man would suffer the most heinous of deaths.

Derrick wanted to jump to the helpless man's rescue, yet he knew it would only jeopardize the investigation. As he and RJ pulled off in RJ's Mercedes, Derrick could only speculate what manner in which Taz would be murdered. The speculation was based more on his interest in the workings of the criminal mind than the effect the killing would have on his job. What amazed Derrick was that the deeper he became entrenched in the investigation, the more distant from the investigation he became. He was growing attached to RJ and Naria and becoming detached from Marvin and the agency.

Suddenly, a set of soft hands made contact with his bare shoulders, bringing his mind to the present.

Looking up into Naria's beautiful face, Derrick noticed she'd traded her Dior Homme dress for his Hickey Freeman button up.

He licked his lips in anticipation, guiding her around the chair to join him. She sat down alongside him. He could not only see the lust in her eyes. He also had a clear view of the satiny fabric of her panties. Derrick pulled her body closer to his and placed his mouth over hers. He gently kissed her sweet lips. She reciprocated his eagerness by moving her hand down his chiseled body and into his partially unbuckled jeans.

Once her fingers wrapped around his massive pole, her eyes shot wide open as she froze.

Derrick noticed the evident shock displayed on her face.

After a brief moment of staring into each other's eyes, they both burst into a fit of laughter.

Naria quickly regained her composure, and then earnestly stated, “I've . . . never, umm . . . seen one that big.”

Pulling her to him tenderly, Derrick said, “Don't worry, I would never hurt you. I promise.” He recaptured her tongue with his own.

Slowly, Derrick hovered above Naria's tiny frame. Looking down at her perfect figure, he could actually feel his pulse in his condom. He slid just the head into Naria's moist slit, feeling his girth stretching her womanhood.

Naria arched her back in preparation, as her inner-moist orifice was being filled to its capacity. “Trez, I don't think that I can take it,” she huffed urgently.

Derrick soothingly replied, “You can take it, baby. Just relax.” Leaning in close, he began to plant soft kisses all over Naria's face.

Every time she attempted to capture his mouth, he dodged her lips playfully. Throughout the entire time he played his game, he was stroking deeper and deeper into her. It wasn't long before nearly half his length was inside her.

“Trez, you've got me . . . soooooo wet! I think I can . . . take it! Give it to me, baby! Please! I'm ready!”

Derrick looked down and noticed that Naria probably could withstand the three to four inches he had left. So he allowed her lips to connect with his, cradled her tight, and inserted his entire length into her.

Naria released an animalistic growl as her nails tore into his flesh. “Oh . . . God!” Once Naria overcame his size, she rotated her hips as loud moans escaped her mouth. “Tre . . . Trez! I've never felt this be-fore! I . . . I think I'm . . . cuuummming!” she yelled as her body jerked violently. Naria was experiencing her first orgasm ever. The spasms ripped through her body.

Soon thereafter, the tightness and the wetness of her pussy sent Derrick into his own blissful battle with nature. His face contorted and twisted. Feeling his body jerk the final time, Derrick knew it was nowhere on earth that he'd rather be than with Naria. Being with her had stopped him from worrying about his mother or his job. The only thing that mattered at the moment was them.

*****

The next morning, Derrick looked around the room confused. As his eyes focused on an angelic Naria, the events of the night before rushed back into his mental, causing a gigantic smile to cover his face. The condominium that they'd so covertly stayed in actually belonged to RJ. This was just one of many properties that he owned across the country.

Derrick eased from the bed, careful not to wake Naria. He walked through the plush interior of the condo, wondering who could have done such an exquisite job decorating. As he stood naked watching the sun rise over the water, he heard Naria's steps easing up behind him. Once she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her nakedness against his, his manhood instantly grew to full attention. Derrick closed his eyes, taking in the comfort that she provided. A comfort that was so far removed from the fast-paced drama that Derrick had experienced courtesy of the agency and RJ.

* * * * *

Derrick lounged in the passenger seat as Naria navigated his XK8 Jaguar through the light evening traffic. He felt at ease in her company. Something he couldn't say even for his most serious relationship. There had never been a woman that he felt so comfortable around. He wasn't sure what it was about her, but he knew she was the source. Looking over into her smiling face, Derrick couldn't help but smile in return.

Naria turned the music down, and then playfully asked, “Are you laughing at me?”

“Nah. I was just checking your moves out,” he replied.

“Mmm hmm. I bet.”

Derrick shot her a reassuring smile, and then averted his attention to the passing landscape. The calmness of the country instantly filled him with warmness.

“Trez, how'd you meet my brother?” Naria asked out of the blue.

Derrick's antennas shot straight up. “Umm . . . I met him through a mutual friend. Why?”

“No reason, really. It's just that you're different from any of the guys he's ever been around. I mean, don't get me wrong. It's nothing bad, you're just . . . different.”

“Different like what?”

“Well, for one, a person can tell that you're educated. You are very cordial when you speak and you have sincerity about yourself.”

“Guess that's a good thing.”

“Then on the other hand, you possess that edginess, but it's more intelligent hoodlum than ghetto thug.”

“Intelligent hoodlum,” Derrick repeated, chuckling. “I think you've been watching too many BET movies.”

Slapping Derrick's thigh, she whined, “Stop laughing at me.”

Once Naria parked in front of her building, a tense silence spanned between her and Derrick. Although they'd shared a magnificent night of lovemaking in its most primitive form, neither of them knew what the future held.

“Well, I guess I'll see you around,” Naria stated, breaking the monotonous silence. Leaning over, she placed a soft kiss onto Derrick's cheek.

The moment Naria grabbed the door handle, and Derrick grabbed her right wrist. “Naria, I desperately want to come up and spend some time with you. But I need to make a run real quick. I—”

“Shhhh.” Placing her forefinger over his lips, Naria looked deep into his sincere eyes. She removed her finger from his lips and replaced it with her lips, enjoying the feeling of his tongue dancing around hers. Abruptly breaking the kiss, she dug into her purse until she found what she was looking for. She pulled a key from her purse and placed it in Derrick's hand. “Apartment twenty-three,” she stated and then exited the car.

*****

Inside of a Brooklyn restaurant, a meeting was in progress. At the head of the table sat Quis, a major player in Brooklyn who pushed large sums of heroin and cocaine. Also in attendance was Hakeem, and of course Biggs, Taz's older brother.

The three men had long ago forged an unbreakable bond when they each became Muslim years before. Although their actions weren't consistent with their religion, they each offered their five Salaams a day, regardless. In the streets of Brooklyn, the three men were the heart of the Flatbush clique, The Gucci Crew.

“Biggs, you still ain't heard anything about Taz?” Quis asked.

It had been forty-eight hours since anyone had heard from Taz. The word on the streets was that Lil' Roy was responsible. Although it hadn't been confirmed, someone was going to receive a surprise visit. And if there was anything that had been proven over and over again, it was that The Gucci Crew had a vicious murder game. The fact that one of the crew's founding member's younger brother was missing warranted all resources to be utilized.

“The word is that this kafir, Lil' Roy from BTBs, supposedly was looking for him, but—”

“When was you gonna tell me this?” Quis interjected in disbelief.

“I just found out,” said Biggs.

“And that's when I'm supposed to find out.”

“Hakeem, call Animal in the morning. But first call Shauna, ‘cause we're going to need an address,” he instructed.

Quis turned his attention back to Biggs. “I want you to lay close around your mother's house just in case they call on some ransom shit. Also, holler at them young boys he hangs with and see what they know.”

Both men nodded and then stood to leave. As they made their way to the exit, Quis' voice boomed, “Biggs! As-sulam-wa-lakkum!”

Both men turned, and in unison replied, “Wa-lakkum-as-sulam, Rahman to Allah.”

* * * * *

During the drive back to his house, Derrick checked his voicemail.

“Message one.”

“Hi, Derrick. I was just calling to say hello. In case you forgot who I was, this is Sheera. Goodbye.”

“Delete.”

“Message two.”

“Richards, this is assistant director Douglas Gold. I need you to call me ASAP.”

Quickly, Derrick exited his voicemail and dialed the number to DEA headquarters.

After two rings, someone answered the phone. “DEA, may I help you?”

“Yes, can you please give me Mr. Gold?”

“May I tell him who's calling?”

“Yes, it's agent Richards. He should be expecting me.”

“Okay. Please hold, Mr. Richards,” the secretary replied.

“Richards!” Director Gold's voice boomed through the receiver.

“Yeah, this is Richards. What's so urgent, Director?” Derrick asked.

“I'll tell you what's so urgent! A fucking body popped up in the Hudson River with cuffs issued by us! Can you answer that one for me?”

Slapping his palm against his forehead, Derrick yelled, “Damn!”

“Damn!” Gold retorted. “Damn they were your cuffs, or damn you don't know?” he asked.

“Look, Director, it's a long story, but—”

“But my ass! You get your ass in this office right now, and tell me what the fuck is going on, Richards!” Gold barked and then slammed the phone down.

“Fuck!” Derrick muttered. Just as he was drifting away from the agency, one phone call had snatched him back into the reality of who he was and what his job was. Derrick had taken an oath, and he had a responsibility that he was legally bound by. But even with his renewed focus on this reality, the other reality of his growing relationship to the underworld was present. Now Derrick had to conjure an explanation for a mishap that could cost him his job and a lengthy prison term.

*****

Everything seemed to play out in slow motion as Derrick entered the large office of Director Gold. The aging white veteran sat behind a huge redwood desk backed by accolades ranging from his college degrees to awards from every law enforcement agency he had worked for in his thirty-year career. Derrick knew that Director Gold had seen and heard it all, so what Derrick was about to spew from his lips would have to be crafted in such a way that even if it was not completely believable, it was plausible and probable.

Director Gold pointed at the chair in front of his desk. “Sit and talk. And I hope you're talking something I want to hear. There's no wax in my ears, and I don't need piss in them either.”

Derrick sat across from a visibly fuming boss. “All I can tell you is the truth.”

“I'm listening.”

“All I know is the guy was murdered.”

Director Gold laughed for the first time.