In My Hood (20 page)

“Well, I was about to go home. I’m tired. You want to come with me?” She flirted.

He just stared at her with a slight smirk. That was good for him because he hardly ever smiled.

Derrick had wanted to get with Nettie since the first time he met her with Zola, but he knew his boy couldn’t stand her, so he chilled. Ishmael didn’t listen to him when he gave his opinion about Zola, and he never knew why. Ishmael said Nettie wasn’t shit. He trusted his boy’s judgment.

Derrick had run into her the other day, which was very strange because he rarely saw Nettie out in the streets. It wasn’t like they hung out at the same places, and Derrick was pretty much a low-key guy. Every now and then he might get with some old jump-offs to release a pound of cum, but nonetheless they didn’t cross paths.

When he ran into her, they sat and talked for a long time. She was clearly pushing up on him, and he was feeling her vibes. She admitted she knew how Ishmael felt about her, which was why she was never around anymore when Zola was with them. She also admitted she felt the same way about him, but on the strength of her girl, she chilled.

Derrick didn’t like that she was a dancer, but Nettie told him she needed the extra money to go back to school, which she had no intention of doing.

“So what’s up? You gonna swing by or not?”

“Go get in your car. I’ll follow you,” he stated calmly.

She walked off back across the street to her car, throwing her ass from side to side. Nettie knew she had it going on. Her ass was perfectly shaped, and she had the best set of legs a woman can have. Derrick leaned forward to get a better look at her onion until she got into the car.

I
shmael was on his way to chill with Derrick since they hadn’t hung out lately. Ishmael wanted to rap with him about his new flame, but before going, he swung by Beverly’s crib to talk to Desiree for a while. She asked him for some loot to put down on an apartment she had been looking at in Elizabeth. It felt good to him that she finally put her pride aside and asked for his help.

He admired her being independent and all, but she was his lady, and he knew he should be the one to take care of her. He wanted to spoil her rotten. He loved her more and more every day. He hadn’t had the chance to sex her since that time at the hotel, but with her moving into her own set, he knew it was going to be on and popping.

When Desiree told him about the apartment, he convinced her to go over at that moment. Once they arrived, they spoke with the owner who lived on the first floor. It was a newly built two-family house with a two-car garage, a balcony, and the whole nine. It was a two-bedroom with two bathrooms, one of which was in the master bedroom, and a den.

He was impressed with her taste. He asked the owner how much he was charging for rent. It was twelve hundred dollars a month, but the owner said he told Desiree she could have it for a thousand. He thought she would be a good tenant. Ishmael saw how he thought that. The way he smiled when talking to her showed him what homeboy was thinking. Ishmael made it known to the man that they were a couple and they would be taking the apartment together.

Ishmael went into his pocket and peeled off 3 g’s and gave it to the man on the spot. The owner’s eyes lit up. The man rushed into the house and came back with the keys.

On the way back to Beverly’s house, Desiree thanked Ishmael and told him she would use her own money to buy some furniture and that she didn’t want a dime of his money to do it.

He was cool with that just as long as she was finally going to have her own place and he had somewhere to chill with her.

***************

After kicking it with Derrick for a few hours, Ishmael was grooving. Shit was flowing lovely, and there were no beefs with anyone. They smoked about four blunts between the two of them, and Ishmael drank three shots of Hennessy.

He cruised up the street with his seat leaned way back and his fitted cap pulled over his eyes, bopping his head to the music. He checked up on his blocks and headed home.

While he was driving, he noticed someone tailing him. He made a left at the next block and the car tailing him did the same. He made a right and a quick left at the next two blocks and the other car did the same.

“What the fuck?” he said.

He reached into the console and pushed the button for the trap. He reached in and grabbed his nine and placed it on his lap. He got caught by a red light and thought about running it when he saw the police squatting in the car wash on the other corner. He kept his eyes on the car approaching him. It pulled around to his side of the truck. His window was halfway open, so he rolled it all the way down. He gripped the hammer and sat the nose of the gun on the windowsill.

When the Cadillac pulled up on the side of him, he realized it was Leroy who had several different cars, all of them Cadillacs in different colors. Leroy’s driver pulled the Caddy up so that the back window was lined up with Ishmael’s. He held the nine in place, not knowing what Leroy was up to.

The back passenger window lowered.

“What’s up, Ishmael?” Leroy asked.

“What’s up?” Ishmael asked, clearly showing irritation.

“I need to talk to you for a minute.”

“About what?”

“Stop by my office,” Leroy instructed.

“Naw. Meet me at Hilal’s in a half hour,” Ishmael said, pulling off, not waiting for a response.

He figured Leroy must have heard about the meeting that he was not invited to. He must know what went down and now he wanted in. Ishmael had other plans, and Leroy could kiss his ass for all he cared. Even though he felt Leroy did him dirty, he still felt some kind of love and respect for the man who helped raise him and school him to the game. But he would never show him that love again.

Ishmael purposely walked into the Hilal restaurant thirty minutes late. In fact he was there before Leroy. He watched him and his bodyguard walk into the restaurant. He stayed in his Benz, which he had gone home and gotten after he pulled off from talking to Leroy. He sat in his car and checked out the scene to see if it was a set-up. Once he was satisfied that it was legit, he shoved his nine down the front of his jeans and went into the restaurant.

Leroy was seated in a booth in the rear. His bodyguard was sitting at the counter. Ishmael walked toward the bodyguard and nodded. The bodyguard got up off the stool and stepped in front of him. He patted Ishmael on the waist.

“What’s this?” he whispered in a burly voice.

“What the fuck you think it is?” Ishmael asked, irritated.

“Why you carrying in here?”

“Nigga, I always carry heat. Yo, Leroy.” He looked toward the booth where Leroy sat. “What’s up wit’ yo’ boy?”

Leroy waved a hand to the bodyguard. Ishmael threw him prisms as he walked by.

“I don’t sit with my back to the door,” Ishmael stated, standing in front of Leroy.

“No problem, son. I see I taught you well. Let’s sit at this table over here. I’ll sit with my back to the door because I got somebody watching my back,” he said, laughing.

Ishmael didn’t see the humor, so Leroy cleared his throat and sat down in the chair.

Ishmael sat down. Before Leroy could say a word, a tall, dark-skinned woman with a head wrap came over to the table.

“Can I get you brothers anything?” she asked.

“I’ll take a sweet tea and a piece of bean pie,” Leroy said. He turned to Ishmael. “What do you want, son?”

“Nothing. I’m good,” Ishmael said, never taking his eyes off Leroy.

He was pissed at Leroy. Not only for what he did to him, but because his high was now blown fucking around with him.

“So how you been, son?”

“Man, cut the shit. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the offer again. Youngblood, listen, you’re like family to me. I can’t sit back and watch you throw your life away.”

“You know what, Leroy? That almost sounds sincere, but I ain’t feeling it now.”

“Ishmael, if you want, you don’t have to pay me the ten percent, just give them their fifteen percent and be done with it. Now that’s lower than anybody else is paying.”

“Maybe if you would’ve came at me like that earlier, I would still have respect for you, but you didn’t. You straight turned your back on me before giving me a chance. And you call yourself being like a father to me. I gave more respect to my real father, and I hated his black ass.” Ishmael stood and walked up on the side of Leroy.

His bodyguard got up off the stool and began to walk toward the table.

Ishmael leaned over, “At least he was straight up no matter how fucked up he was, and I respect any man who keeps it real. Stay the fuck away from me.”

Just as Ishmael began to walk away, he met Leroy’s bodyguard face to face.

“What?” Ishmael shouted, toeing up with the big, burly man.

“Ishmael,” Leroy called out to him. Leroy waved to the bodyguard to let Ishmael by.

“I thought so,” Ishmael spat at the bodyguard as he walked out.

Z
ola and Nettie were driving in Nettie’s car. They pulled up in front of Beverly’s house. Beverly was sitting in her usual spot on the porch, holding her bottle of happy juice. The women approached the porch.

“What’s up, Bev?” Nettie asked.

“Who dat?” Beverly asked.

She was wasted, and she rocked back and forth, barely able to keep her bloodshot eyes open.

“It’s me—Nettie.”

“Who?”

“Me Nettie, Bev,” Nettie said.

“Who that black bitch with you?” Beverly drawled.

“What?” Zola inquired, stepping forward.

Nettie grabbed her arm and advised her to relax.

“Bev, you wasted. What you drinking?” Nettie asked her, walking a little closer.

“None of your business.”

Once Nettie got closer, Beverly began to squint, trying to place her face.

“Oh, what’s up, Nettie?” She smiled. “I ain’t know who you was.” She struggled to talk.

“I figured you didn’t. What’s good?”

“Ain’t nothing, just getting my drink on.”

“I know that’s right.” Nettie sat down on the stoop. “So what’s the goings-on in the hood, Bev?”

Zola stood back and looked at Beverly. She wasn’t feeling the way Beverly stared at her. And who the hell was she calling a black bitch?

“Ain’t nothing going on.”

“Come on, Bev, you the four-one-one of the hood. I know you know something.”

“What you want to know? You ain’t said shit yet,” Beverly continued to drawl.

“Bev, I heard there’s a new chick in town with green eyes. You know her?”

Beverly took another swig of her liquor and smacked her lips. “Let me get a cigarette?” she asked Nettie, holding out her hand.

“I don’t smoke, Bev.”

“You don’t smoke? When you quit smoking?”

Nettie laughed. Beverly was funny to her.

“Bev, I ain’t never smoked. Do you know who the girl is?”

“Who?” Beverly asked with her eyes rolling around in her head.

“The chick with the green eyes.”

“Who, Rae-Rae?”

“Is that her name? She got green eyes?” Nettie asked her, looking at Zola.

Zola stepped a little closer, eager to hear more.

“Yeah, her name is Desiree, but we call her Rae-Rae. You know her?”

“Naw, but I heard good things about her. You know where I can find her?”

“She used to live with me but she moved. Her and Ishmael got a place together somewhere in Elizabeth.”

Zola’s heart sank. Her eyes became red like fire. She was ready to explode. Ishmael did play her.

“I been meaning to go and check out they crib, but I ain’t get a chance yet. She said they got a fish tank, and Ishmael bought her a puppy and shit.” Beverly continued to talk but neither of them was listening to her.

“Bev, when the next time you think you gonna see her?” Nettie asked.

“Hell, I don’t know. Why?”

“I told you I heard good things about her, and I wanted to meet her.”

“Meet her for what?”

“I was gonna see if she wanted a job. I heard she had it going on, and we need some new girls at the strip joint,” Nettie said, reaching.

“She don’t need no job. She got a job. She work for IHOP flipping pancakes and shit.” Beverly hiccupped.

“Yeah, which one?”

“I don’t know, somewhere in Elizabeth. Why, you going over there?”

“Yeah, I might. Why?”

“Bring me some blueberry pancakes back and some beef sausage.” She continued to stumble drunkenly over her words.

“A’ight, Bev, I’ll do that. Wait right here. I’ll be back,” Nettie said as she and Zola got into the car.

“Bring me a pack of cigarettes too,” Beverly yelled after the car.

I
t had been two weeks since Ishmael put out the new product. The blocks were jumping. The product had niggaz hurling all over the place. Fiends were bent. He was sending his deliveryman to the connect faster than he could deliver the product. His territories in the south were feeling the effects as well. They said that niggaz were going bananas over the new product. Everybody wanted to be on his team, asking him to put them on board. Everybody wanted a piece of the cake Ishmael and his squad were making.

He hadn’t heard anything from Leroy since last seeing him at the restaurant. Desiree was all moved into her new set, and things were lovely. He barely stayed at his own crib. He would only go there to deposit money into his safe and to check on things at the house.

He had run into Zola a couple of times when he went home. They didn’t say too much to each other. She would ask for money to pay some bills and he told her he had it all taken care of. In fact he gave Desiree all the money, and she took care of his bills for him. Zola didn’t bitch or complain about anything to him, and he was cool with that. He didn’t seem to find her odd behavior strange. He was living life lovely. His product was flowing like crazy, and he and Desiree’s relationship was doing well.

Little did he know Zola was watching everything he did when he came home. It wasn’t unusual because she did that anyway when they were together. When he dumped the money he had in a garbage bag onto the bed, she remained calm. She watched him stack it into the safe and close it up. He’d grab a few pieces of clothing, and he would be out.