She slowly pushed him off as she ran a red-painted fingernail down the side of his face. “That party isn't going anywhere,” she replied. “Besides, we can't leave. Macy is supposed to be meeting us here.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, a white Saab pulled up beside them. Macy Sigel climbed out with his latest flavor of the month on his arm. Case and Macy greeted one another warmly as they slapped hands, embracing each other briefly.
“What up, baby?” Case greeted. “You looking good, family ... Look at you. I see you shining with your jewels and your little ride. Somebody's getting money.”
“Everybody's getting money,” Macy replied as he smiled charmingly. He saw Fatima standing behind Case and moved him to the side to greet his girl.
“Hey, Macy,” Fatima said as she kissed his cheek.
“Hey, baby girl,” he replied as he kissed her cheek.
“Who's your friend?” she asked as she looked at the girl who was sitting in Macy's passenger seat.
“Nobody special, just a little entertainment for the night,” Macy said conceitedly.
“You need to find some entertainment for life, fam, and quit messing with these skeezers,” Fatima said playfully.
“Not everybody could be as lucky as my man here. They don't make 'em like you no more,” Macy said as he turned and patted Case on the chest.
“I'm a lucky man,” Case stated as he draped an arm around Fatima.
Macy's date emerged from the car, and the foursome entered the club, prepared to ball out for the night.
Popping bottles and grandstanding for the hood was all a part of the life of young Case and Macy. Coming up in Long Beach, California the pair had made quite a name for themselves. When the '80s ushered in the crack era, Case and Macy quickly entered the game and rose to the top. With their Mexico connection, they supplied a large portion of L.A. with pure white, while still running smaller trap spots on various blocks as well. They wanted all the money and they didn't discriminate against anyone. Whether it was a smoker copping small amounts or a hustler copping ki's, they served everyone and treated everyone the same. They respected money and anyone who spent it with them.
As they partied and celebrated their success, they watched as Fatima danced with a drink in her hand, commanding the dance floor. The jewels that she sported were compliments of Macy, and her hips hypnotized as she wound them to the slow beat. She noticed Case watching her and she gave him a sexy smile.
“This is the life, man. The beautiful women, the money, the cars,” Case said.
“It's temporary. If we stay in this for too long, we will eventually fall off,” Macy replied.
“You sure you want to give all of this up? We just started seeing real paper, and you're ready to retire already,” Case commented while shaking his head. He couldn't understand how he could give up a lifestyle that was so lavish.
“I start school this fall,” Macy replied. “I've stacked a hundred thousand. That's enough to pay for four years of tuition plus some.”
“Here you go with that bullshit,” Case answered. “If you invest four years in the street, you'll have enough to retire. Why would you waste your time at a fucking college to end up making fifty thousand dollars a year? We get that in a couple weeks, fam.”
Macy knew that Case didn't understand. While it was true that street money was fast money, it equaled instability. At any moment his infamy could be taken away from him. His education would be his forever and could elevate him to levels of power that he could never attain pushing coke. Macy saw the full picture and looked at the long-term perspective. The allure of the streets wasn't strong enough to trap him there. He had used it for what it was; now he was elevating.
“You don't get it, but in due time you will,” Macy replied as he raised his glass to his mouth and downed the cognac in his glass.
Fatima came off of the dance floor laughing jovially, obviously lifted off of the liquor she had consumed. “Dance with me?” she said to Case as she pulled his hand.
“You know better,” he said as he licked his lips and pulled her into his space.
The alcohol had her feeling extremely sexual, and she bit his earlobe gently as she whispered, “You're no fun.”
Macy's date came over and pulled him onto the dance floor. “Come on, girl, he can handle both of us,” she said as she snapped her fingers in the air.
Macy was reluctantly dragged onto the floor, where he was the envy of the crowd as he was sandwiched between two beautiful ladies. They did more actual dancing than he did; he just swayed back and forth in the same two-step as the women worked him over. Fatima worked him over, grinding in front of him but making sure to keep a respectable distance as his date danced behind him.
Case stood on the sidelines, cheering them on and laughing as he watched the love that his city showed them. A part of him felt a genuine sadness that his boy was leaving the game. They had always been a pair. Since the day they had made acquaintances in grade school, they had rocked with one another. Macy was the only nigga in the streets who Case truly trusted with his life. Things would be different once Case was left to tend to things alone. He would never tell Macy, but he would miss doing their dirt together. Case could do the math, however, and quitting the game wasn't something that added up in his mind. He was going to get it until the day that he couldn't get it anymore. Nothing could knock his hustle.
Macy is chasing the white man's dream. That degree shit ain't for us. He gon' get that shit and still be waiting on a white mu'fucka to give him something. I'ma make my own ends. I'm a boss,
he thought arrogantly as he heard the DJ make the announcement for last call.
At that moment, one of their goons came up to him, appearing flustered and completely underdressed for the club.
“Case, we've been beeping you all night,” the young man said nervously, appearing worried.
“My beeper's in the car. What's good?” Case asked, giving his worker his full attention.
“The spot over in Inglewood got robbed. They took us for thirty thousand dollars,” the guy said, leaning close to Case's ear so that he could be heard over the music.
Case saw red as he thought about how he had just taken a loss. Case wouldn't have cared what the amount had been. Big or small, he wanted every dime of what he was owed.
I'm going to have to make a believer out of a nigga,
he thought angrily as he thought of how he was going to make an example out of whoever had tried to test him.
He walked over to Macy and calmly put his hand on his shoulder. “Somebody hit the spot. We've got to go,” Case stated.
Macy's mood instantly transformed and his trigger finger began to itch as he followed Case out of the club. Although Fatima didn't know what was going on, she could tell from the look on Case's face that playtime was over. She was a hustler's wife and was well aware of the ups and down that came with being on the arms of men like Case and Macy. She followed their lead and walked out of the club without asking questions. Macy's lady didn't go so easily however.
“Why are we leaving? What's going on?” she asked annoyingly.
“It's better not to ask questions,” Fatima whispered as she looped her arm inside of the girl's and they walked side by side behind their men.
Tension was thick as Case hit the top of his roof. “How the fuck anybody even know where that spot at?” he hissed.
“How much they take us for?” Macy asked, trying to remain rational, although his temper was flaring more and more by the second.
“Thirty,” Case replied.
Macy paced back and forth as he grilled the young hustler who had delivered the news. With a lawyer's flair, Macy did everything to catch the kid up, but his story was consistent, and Macy finally concluded that he had nothing to do with the robbery.
“We've got to handle this tonight,” Macy stated.
“I'll take care of it,” Case stated.
“What?” Macy shouted.
“Take the girls home. I've got it,” Case replied. He knew that his boy was ready to go legit, and he didn't want to complicate things by pulling him further and further in the game. The more you played, the harder it was to quit, and Case was trying to be supportive of Macy's decision.
Macy approached Case and stood face to face with him. “We're in this shit together, bro. What if you need my trigger?” he asked.
“I won't. I'm not going to put any major plays down without you. I'm just going to find out what the fuck is going on. Make sure the girls get in safe and wait for my call. I'll fill you in so that you don't miss a beat,” Case stated. They slapped hands and Macy patted Case's back.
“You be careful, fam,” Macy said.
Case nodded, kissed Fatima, and then hopped into his car, speeding out of the lot.
Macy ushered the ladies to his car and sped off, riding in silence as his anger boiled inside of him. He gritted his teeth and checked his pager anxiously to make sure that Case hadn't called him.
Fatima sat in the backseat, her mind spinning as tension ate away at the atmosphere inside the car. She knew that Macy would never speak about business in front of his new friend, but she desperately wanted to know what was going on. She had been around since before Macy or Case ever even knew what crack cocaine looked like, so she knew that he would put her up on game as soon as his girl was out of the car.
“I'm going to my mother's place out in Pasadena, so you might as well drop me off last,” Fatima stated.
Macy looked at her curiously in the rearview mirror. He knew that her mother was deceased,m but didn't object as he dropped off his date first.
“I'll call you later,” Macy said as he pulled up to her house.
Slightly vexed that she was being dropped off before Fatima, the girl smacked her lips and slammed the door as she got out of the car. Macy didn't even wait until the girl was safely inside before he pulled off.
“Nice girl,” Fatima said sarcastically. She had been waiting all night to get on Macy for his choice in women.
He laughed slightly, knowing that Fatima was bourgeoisie. Case had created a monster when he had spoiled her. She was high maintenance and didn't like to fraternize with other women who weren't on her level. “You're a trip, ma,” he replied.
“I'm just saying,” she said as she smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Now you gonna tell me what's going on or what?”
“Some niggas ran into one of the trap houses,” Macy replied.
“Well, you know I'm going home with you. I'm not sitting by the phone at my place waiting for Case to call me. I want to be there when he contacts you. I have to know that he's all right,” she said.
He could tell from the determined look on Fatima's face that it wasn't up for debate. He had known her long enough to know that he had no wins in an argument with her, so he gave in and headed to his place.
As Macy pulled up to his Hollywood condo, Fatima was impressed. Although Case was getting it, he had yet to let go of the hood, living in the heart of Long Beach. Macy, on the other hand, had stepped into the major leagues and was living well in the condo he was renting.
“I'm surprised you're even bringing me here,” Fatima stated, knowing that no one even knew where Macy resided.
“What, you gonna rob me?” he asked, only half joking as he unlocked his door and welcomed her inside.
She stepped inside and was taken aback at how well his place was decorated. It was a far cry from the bachelor pad that Case lived in.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Don't let me find out you're materialistic,” he stated, giving her a hard time.
She hit his shoulder with her clutch and then walked over to his leather sectional and took a seat.
“Can I get a drink or something?” she asked.
He pointed to the mini-bar in the kitchen and said, “Help yourself and use the phone in the kitchen to page Case. I'm going to go clean up a little bit.”
Fatima paged Case and then fixed herself a drink as she waited patiently for the phone to ring. She nosily looked around for a woman's touch, but surprisingly found none.
She couldn't understand how a good catch like Macy was not spoken for. He and Case were the most sought-after young hustlers in Long Beach. While most were into the gang set, Case and Macy weren't into any color besides green. Every girl in the hood wanted a piece of them.
When Macy reentered the room, he was dressed in baggy gray sweat pants and a white V-neck T-shirt. Although he looked relaxed, she could see the stress in his frowned brow line.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I'm good, ma. I'm just feeling kind of fucked up. It's nights like this that make me feel guilty about leaving Case to hold things down by himself,” he said.