The California Saga (15 page)

 

 

As soon as I made bond, I made a few calls and had one of my chicks make arrangements to get me out. Then I headed straight to my attorney's office. I had been indicted on a racketeer influenced and corrupt organizations charge, better known as a RICO charge. Those fucking prosecutors were acting like I was John Gotti, talking all that organized crime bullshit. From what my lawyer was saying, the shit didn't look good. Her theory was that the state had a 97 percent conviction rate on this type of charge, and that I had to seriously consider taking a plea deal. If not, I could be looking at twenty years.

“Fuck that!” I told my lawyer bluntly. “I ain't copping out to shit. And I ain't no snitch, so there's no way I'm cooperating. They can forget that.”

My lawyer was a sexy, green-eyed, blonde-haired Italian supermodel-looking chick. Besides the fact that she was smart as shit, what I liked about her most was that she understood the struggle. Her pops used to be in organized crime and got locked up when she was eleven years old and had been in prison ever since. The fact that she had grown up without him led her to want to be a lawyer.

“Michael, you know I'll fight for you till the bitter end, but make no mistake about it, it's gonna be a dogfight to beat these charges.”

“I only fuck with the best. That's why I got you,” I said before leaving.

I had explained to her that Jewel would come by to give her one hundred and twenty-five thousand. And she made sure to remind me that I would be looking at, at least, one million in fees by the time it was all said and done. But I knew that it would be money well spent because she would have to hire investigators, expert witnesses, and shit like that, on my behalf. Once I wrapped that shit up, I was on the next flight home to California.

I'd been in California for the entire five days after seeing my lawyer. That shit with niggas running up in Jewel's crib really had me fucked up. I had put a hit out on Sincere, and things were immediately dealt with. But something still didn't sit right with me. I couldn't understand how these dudes knew where to find me and how much coke I had. I wasn't a sloppy dude, and nobody really knew I was kicking it with Jewel like that. I knew I needed to talk to her more about the situation.

Since my arrest I had refused to talk on my cell phone. Instead, I was only using prepaid cell phones that I would get rid of on a weekly basis. Just to be extra careful, I made sure that Jewel and other people that I spoke to on a regular basis didn't call me from one of their regular phone numbers.

“You know this prepaid cell phone shit is for the birds,” Jewel complained to me.

“It's a slight inconvenience for freedom baby,” I explained to her. “Anyway, a couple of things real quick. I handled that shit with Sincere, just like I told you I would. Them fucking New York niggas think muthafuckas is just gonna get down or lay down 'cause they from New York. I guess niggas know different now.”

“Oh, shit! Yeah, I heard about that. I had no idea.”

“One thing, though . . . shit don't seem right. It had to be someone else involved, or something more to it. I ain't tell no niggas I was chilling with you or how much shit I had. Tell me any and everything you can remember about these dudes. You sure you've never seen them before?” I asked, fishing for more information.

I listened attentively as Jewel spoke. I thought about everyone I'd come in contact with on that visit. Then it was one thing Jewel said that stuck out.

I made sure I'd heard correctly. “You said a chick told them I had coke in the house?”

“Yep.”

“Say no more.” I deaded that conversation.

I knew exactly who had set me up, and that bitch was to get dealt with next. Shit had finally come together. That shiesty bitch, Diana, was the only chick I'd dealt with that day, and I remembered seeing her hollering at two unfamiliar dudes in a car with New York tags as we were leaving the strip club. I didn't even bother telling Jewel.

“Now about this money, you hit my lawyer off yet?” I said, changing the subject.

“No, but—”

“Jewel, listen, this shit ain't a game. I don't want you walking around with that kind of bread. Now, you said you wanted to be my ride-or-die bitch. I need you to prove it to me. Take the shit to over to her today.”

“Okay, okay, I'm on it.”

“So what is Touch saying?”

“Saying about what?”

“That bitch-ass nigga, I'm surprised he ain't give you a hard time giving you my loot.”

“Calico, what are you talking about? Why you calling him a bitch? And for the record, Touch gave me that money with no problem.”

I didn't go any further with that issue. I really didn't have the time to concern myself with Touch. My money was getting low, and I had to get my weight up. Those New York niggas had been coming down to Virginia and trying to supply the same market that I was supplying, and now I knew how. I was sure that trick-ass Diana was making it real easy for those niggas, putting them on to my customers and everything.

I admit that they had caught me slippin', and in the process, my money took a hit. It was nothing that I couldn't recover from, but I was experiencing a slight drought. And with that case that I had caught, it just seemed like the government and my competition smelled blood, and were moving in for the kill.

My back was starting to feel like it was up against the wall, but one thing about me was, I knew I was smarter than all the street niggas out there. And I was never the one to back down from shit. I was gonna lay low for a month or two in California and let things run their course, but I was definitely gonna be plotting shit out in the meantime. I ran Virginia. That's how it was, and that's how shit was gonna continue to be.

When I hung up the phone with Jewel, I poured myself a glass of Hennessy on the rocks and sparked a blunt that I had rolled earlier. I took the remote to my CD player, and I turned on the
American Gangster
soundtrack and went right to track 10 and blasted the song “Ignorant Shit.” In seconds the lyrics had me amped as I took pulls from the weed. I turned the volume up even louder as I drank from my glass and recited along with the song.

My head was feeling nice. It was like, instantly, I could care less about my legal problems or anything else as I continued to rap out loud as if I was Jay-Z.

 

 

“Hey, Boobie!” I yelled as I raced toward Sasha, who was standing at the luggage carousel at the airport.

“Hey, baby!” She rushed into my arms, and I hugged her tight as she wrapped her arms around me and grabbed a handful of each of my butt cheeks and squeezed them tight.

I quickly removed her hands. “Sasha, we're in the airport. People are watching.”

Laughing, Sasha grabbed her bag from her incoming flight from Atlanta, and we chatted as we walked to the counter to check in for our flight to New York. Sasha asked about the discussion we'd had about flipping Calico's money the previous day.

“So you reach a decision yet?”

“Yeah, I have. I ain't gon' lie, that shit sounds like a good idea. I'm just thinking about the risk,” I said to Sasha, even though my gut was telling me to just look at Sasha's loser track record and to not go through with her grand money plans.

Sasha tried to assure me that her plan was foolproof. “What risk? Diablo is your homeboy. He loves you to death. You know he'll give you the product at a good-ass price. And you don't have to worry about a driver. I'll drive to Atlanta with the money and bring the shit back up here to you. Baby, there is no risk. You have nothing to lose.”

I flipped through my Gucci handbag, trying to locate my driver's license so that I could hand it to the clerk at the airline counter. “Yeah, I hear you, but Calico is on my ass about paying his lawyer.”

“Just stall him, or better yet, just lie and say you paid the lawyer. What the fuck? Girl, don't act like you don't know how to game a nigga.”

I looked at Sasha, just as the clerk handed me my boarding pass. “See, that's the thing, Sasha. This ain't a game. Calico is really going through it right now, and I can't fuck his money up.”

“You won't fuck it up, Jewel. We got this, trust me.”

Purposely ignoring Sasha and not responding to her on that issue, I walked toward Starbucks so I could get a grande caramel frappuccino. I asked her, “You want something from Star-bucks?”

Sasha shook her head no, and then she gave me this look, as if to check me for not answering her. “Jewel?”

Sasha looked so irresistibly cute, and she did have one helluva plan. Besides, a bitch could always use some extra dough, but I didn't want to just give in to her right there on the spot. This was no ordinary nigga I was going to game. This was the “California Connection.” Shit could get really messy if this plan of hers wasn't executed properly.

“Let me think a little more. I'll let you know by the end of our little trip. Right now, all we need to be thinking about is spending this fifteen gees!”

 

 

The plane ride was quick. Sasha and I both slept through the whole flight into New York's LaGuardia Airport.

“Come this way.” I instructed Sasha to follow me as we exited the plane, and I headed toward the limousine driver that was holding a sign that read C. Diaz.

“Damn, you doing it big, huh?”

“Yeah, I'm doing it big, but not on my dollar. I also have a little business to take care of while I'm out here.”

“Business?” Sasha responded full of attitude.

I knew how salt jealous Sasha could be, and that was why I had purposely held back from telling her about the other reason for my trip to New York.

“Relax. It's only a quick meeting. This independent hip-hop record label that I've done some ghostwriting work for in the past referred me to this major publishing company here in New York. They want me to do some work on this book that TMF is putting out.”

“TMF? Bitch, shut up!” Sasha yelled.

I knew Sasha would be impressed with those niggas. Who wouldn't be? TMF stood for True Mafia Family. It was a group of niggas that had just as much drugs, money, and power as the Italian mafia. They had the same organization and success as the Italians, but all these dudes were black. There were the Frank Lucas of their time.

“Yep. I'm just gon' run in there and meet with everyone, see what they talking about, and sign my name on the dotted line.”

 

 

“So y'all doing it big up there in New York,” I said to Jewel, practically shouting into the phone in an attempt to compete with all the noise in the background.

“Yeah, we met with the publisher, and I got the contract. I signed off on that shit, which I probably shouldn't have done without having a lawyer look at it. But, hey, fuck it, the dollars look right.”

There was so much noise and commotion behind Jewel, I could barely make out two words of this conversation.

“We hanging out and I'm trying to get to know these niggas so I can write from their point of view. But I'll call you as soon as we get back to Virginia.”

“A'ight, but one thing. I really called to ask you why the fuck is Calico calling and questioning me about his bread? You paid his lawyer right?”

“Touch, come on now, that bitch got her money, so if Calico is saying different, you tell him to call me.”

“Enough said.”

Jewel hung up the phone, and my next call was to Calico. He didn't pick up, but I let him know that I had verified with Jewel that she'd paid the lawyer and that I didn't appreciate his bitch ass calling me and insinuating that I was trying to play with his money.

The truth of the matter, though, was that I knew Jewel was bullshitting. I knew that she hadn't paid that lawyer. Now, exactly why she hadn't paid the lawyer and what she was planning on doing with Calico's money, I didn't know, and to be honest, I really didn't give a fuck. That was on Calico for trying to run game on a chick like Jewel. But one thing I did know was if that nigga ever tried to come at Jewel sideways, I would be the first to deal with his ass. And it wouldn't be a hit. That one I would have to handle face to face, because then it would be personal.

My baby moms was back to stressing me the fuck out. I was going to see her, so I could check that ass for some smart comments she'd made. This bitch had to nerve to say some shit about me not fucking her and that Calico was the only dude that knew how to fuck her like she wanted to be fucked. A broad can say anything on the phone, but shit is different when you up in their face. I was going to her crib, to prove that shit.

She knew how I felt about her fucking these cats out here in the streets. That's why I wasn't with her bitch ass anymore. If she really fucked Calico, I would lose my mine. I would really kill that bitch. She was the mother of my kids, yeah, that's true, but that wouldn't make a damn difference if she was even halfway telling me the truth. The way I was feeling about her and Calico lately, shit wasn't looking good for either of them, as far as I was concerned.

 

 

“Oh my God,” I said as I opened my eyes and slowly sat up in the bed. A night of club-hopping with TMF had taken a toll on me. I was definitely feeling the effects of the Ace of Spades champagne I'd drank the night before. Or should I say Armand de Brignac, since Jewel's bourgeoisie ass kept reminding me of the proper name the entire damn night.

My head was spinning as I tried to focus my eyes to see the time on the clock. It was twelve o'clock, three hours before our flight. That left me roughly an hour and a half to give Jewel a little sexual persuasion so that this plan to flip Calico's money could happen.

Without waking Jewel, I ordered breakfast for us and had room service deliver it. Then I woke her to breakfast in bed.

“Thank you, baby,” she said in a groggy morning tone.

“No. Thank you for such a wonderful trip,” I said sweetly. Then I kissed her.

After we ate our food, I put the tray outside the door. Jewel was full and content as she sat in bed and flipped through channels on the television. Now it was time to bring up the money.

“So, baby, did you decide anything yet?” I asked as I lay beside her, my leg over hers.

“Well, I'm still not sure. Don't get me wrong, it sounds like a hell of a plan, and everything you're saying makes sense, but I'm still unsure.”

“It's okay,” I said, knowing I was about to do exactly what it took to make her confident.

I lay my head on the pillow next to Jewel and watched TV as she fell back asleep. Once she was sound asleep, I gently straddled her naked body without saying a word. With a feather-like touch, I lightly circled the outline of her nipple with my tongue then gave them small sporadic suckles combined with light nibbles.

Jewel moaned with pleasure as I slowly crept down her stomach, leaving a row of kisses on the way. Reaching her womanhood, I slid my tongue over her lips and even in her hole, purposely avoiding her clit. I sucked each lip separately, giving them special attention and heightening her desire even more.

Jewel moaned again and began to thrust her hips forward as she pushed her fingers between the tight curls of my hair and grasped the back of my head. This was a sure indication she wanted more.

Satisfied that she'd reach optimum levels of desire, I finally moved toward her clit. Using only my lips and tongue, I began to suck her pleasure zone.

Jewel moaned even louder, and her thrust became constant and more intense as she reached her peak.

Ready to send her over the edge, I shoved my middle finger and my ring finger inside her, certain to hit her G-spot, but sure not to disrupt the ultimate clit massage she was receiving. Moments later, like milk from a baby's bottle, her wetness flowed, and I drank.

I lifted my head from between Jewel's legs, my face still wet from her explosion. I asked her, “Are you certain about that money scheme yet?”

She laughed. “How could anyone say no to a face like that?”

“My thoughts exactly!”

“We'll do exactly as you said. When we get back to Virginia, I'll give you the money, and you can go meet Diablo.”

“Perfect choice. Now we about to see some real money and do some real big things. Fuck niggas! Get money!”

We gave each other a high-five.

Or, in my case, fuck bitches! Get money!
I then began to chant that verse of the song as I walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Cheesing from ear to ear, I was about to do me.