The Dopefiend (19 page)

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Authors: JaQuavis Coleman

BOOK: The Dopefiend
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Chapter Twenty-seven
Dopefiends lined up as if they were young kids in a cafeteria line outside the abandoned building as the corner boys prepared to open up shop. The hustlers were posted on a stoop prepared for distribution. Rah had already paid off the cops that patrolled the area, so police never were a problem. It was a flawless operation going on. It was 6:30
A.M.
and the first waves of users were trying to get their fix. This group usually consisted of the working class: teachers, city workers, functioning addicts, etc. All from different walks of life, but they all had one thing in common: they were trying to get that monkey off of their backs so they could function right throughout the day.
Rah and one of his street lieutenants sat in a tinted Lexus just a block down from the abandoned building, as he did frequently, and observed the spot make money. However, this time he had an AK-47 in the backseat, ready for whatever should come his way. He had just hit his young boys with the product and within minutes the line was moving. Rah just wanted to make sure that there weren't any of the out-of-towners on the block trying to invade their territory. After he learned about the people from Baltimore coming through and wetting the block up, he had been checking in on it more often, willing to defend his territory. Rah smiled and pulled off, on his way to meet Seven for their daily breakfast together.
“If y'all don't get in line, nobody is getting shit!” one of the young hustlers yelled as he got tired of random fiends cutting in line, trying to get closer to the prize. He saw a bunch of new faces and obviously they weren't hip to the rules, so he had to show some muscle. “Get in line!” he yelled as if they were kids. He saw a male bum steady trying to cut in line and becoming disgruntled, disregarding what he had told them. The young hustler got frustrated and walked over to the man who had raggedy clothes on and a long, wild beard.
“Didn't you hear what the fuck I said?” the hustler said as grabbed the man's arm violently, turning him around. As he made the man face him, he got a big surprise. The bum was not actually a bum, it was Baby. Baby held a chrome .45 in his hand and shoved it into the gut of the young hustler.
“Surprise, mufucka,” Baby said as he unleashed a small smirk. One of the other hustlers on the stoop saw Baby pull out the gun and he slowly went into his hoodie to grab his pistol, but the cold steel of a nine millimeter had just been pressed against his temple.
“Uh-uh. Hold up, don't even think about it,” Lovie said as she smiled at him while pressing the steel to his head. She was at the front of the line posing as a fiend also. On cue, Millie's other goons pulled out their strap. When they flashed their guns, everyone scattered, causing total chaos. Millie's squad had been watching the hustlers operate for days, so they knew who was on Seven's team.
After the block had cleared there were only Seven's workers left and all of them hand guns in their faces, totally taken off guard. Millie's crew relieved them of all their own guns, while still having them at gunpoint.
Baby was the first to speak. “Look, li'l niggas. We ain't come to kill you,” he said as he tucked his own gun away, showing that he wasn't trying to come on no beef. “My boss wants to give y'all a golden opportunity.”
“What you mean?” the hustler said bravely as he had both of his hands up, still not sure if he could trust Baby. He did not fully understand what Baby was getting at.
“Money, of course. I want to give you a choice. You have two options. You can get money with us . . . or not get money at all. If you don't want to get down with our program, we will be at y'all every day until we feel like doing otherwise.” Baby unleashed a small grin and stepped back in a non-threatening position. He then continued.
“It is obvious that Seven doesn't give a fuck about his team because we just ran up on y'all without any problems. If y'all fucked with us, shit like this would never happen,” Baby said as he looked around at the young hustlers being held at gunpoint by his crew. He continued, “You niggas can be touched . . . but where is Seven? He's untouchable, but what about his crew?” Baby asked rhetorically as he threw his hands up and looked around. There was a brief moment of silence. Obviously what Baby was saying was making a lot of sense to the hustlers. Baby snapped his fingers and instantly his crew put down their guns. Baby grabbed the kid he was standing by. From watching him for the past week, he knew that he was the leader of the block. Baby gave him a wad of cash and a card with a number on it.
“If you trying to get down with the winning team, call,” he said just before he faded into the alley along with his crew. Baby left the young hustlers on the corner confused and thinking hard about what he had just proposed. The leader of the block looked at the stack of money in his hands and couldn't believe it. It would have taken him a whole month worth of trapping to stack the amount he had in his hands.
Although Millie wasn't there, she had put the whole plan together and was waiting on Seven's goons to jump ship and come to her side. She knew that by taking over Seven's block, he would eventually come out of seclusion.
 
 
Seven sat across from Rah at the table and slid a piece of bacon into his mouth as he stared at the local newspaper. Rah briefly stared at Seven and smirked. Rah still couldn't get used to Seven eating meat. But that was one of the many changes Seven made after he had gotten shot years back. Rah focused on his plate and then felt his phone vibrate on his hip. He immediately answered it, snatching the phone off of his clip and putting it to his ear.
“Yo',” Rah answered. He paused for a minute and then his face frowned up, which caught Seven's attention.
“What the fuck happened?” Rah yelled into the phone and paused. “And they didn't take anything?” Rah questioned. “Okay, just hold tight, I'm on my way.”
“What was all of that about?” Seven asked as he sat back and took a deep breath.
“I think them mufuckas from Baltimore is going to be a bigger problem than we thought. They just ambushed the block, but check this out: they didn't take anything. Didn't rob the li'l niggas or nothing. Li'l man said they were asking for you,” Rah said, his tone getting lower with each word.
“Asking for me? How do they even know about me, son?” Seven asked, knowing that in the new city of Columbus he had kept a very low profile.
“Don't know,” Rah answered, shaking his head from side to side.
Seven wiped his hand with a napkin and tossed it on the table. “Let's go,” Seven said as he grabbed his cane that leaned against the table, and stood up. He also grabbed the shoulder harness and put in on. The harness contained two desert eagles, locked and loaded. He then slid his leather coat on and they both headed toward the exit. Seven stopped at his front door and began to unlock the six deadbolt locks he had on the door. Paranoia was a daily part of Seven's personality and Rah wanted to ask him why was he so wary, being that Seven lived in a low-key suburban area and no one knew where he lived except him. However, Rah remained silent, knowing that he could never truly understand what Seven's mind state was like after he had been almost gunned to death. After a sequence of “click-clacks,” all of the locks were unlocked and Seven opened the door, but not before he turned off his security system so he wouldn't trigger it. Seven then glanced at the monitor that was positioned to view his parking garage and cars to check to see if the coast was clear. Once Seven stared at the screen for a few seconds and was satisfied, they exited on their way to the block to see what was going on.
 
 
Rah and Seven pulled onto the block, riding in Seven's bulletproof Benz. Rah was driving and he pulled up to the curb where their crew was waiting. All of them were waiting anxiously for their boss to arrive. Seven's passenger-side window rolled down and all eyes were on him. Seven checked his rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind him and then scoped the block. Once he felt safe he looked at the group of hustlers on the stoop. He looked at the leader of the block and also the same hustler who Baby had given the money and card to.
“Get in,” Seven said in almost a whisper, but everyone was so quiet and hanging off his every word, that he was heard loud and clear.
Moments later the hustler hopped in the backseat and Rah pulled off of the block. The youngster sat in the backseat feeling butterflies in his stomach. Just the presence of Seven made him nervous. Although he had worked for Seven, he never once met him in person. He always dealt with Rah and no one else.
“What happened?” Rah said as he circled the neighborhood.
“Those same niggas from B-more ran up on us again. They caught us slipping and put the bangers to our head,” he explained.
“They hit the stash?” Rah asked.
“Nah, it wasn't even like that. They didn't even come on no robbing shit. He just wanted to talk.”
“Talk?” Seven interrupted as he put a blunt in between his lips.
“Yeah. He was talking like he wanted to take over the spot and was saying how his boss could make it worth our while,” the young hustler explained, purposely leaving out that Baby had hit him with a stack of money.
“Is that right?” Seven asked as he lit his blunt. “Niggas must think it's a game. Do they know who the fuck I am?” Seven asked as he slowly nodded his head, knowing that he would have to show those B-more cats how he got down.
“So, what you want me to do?” the young hustler asked.
“Get out there and hustle. Stay strapped and don't let niggas run up on you again,” Seven said nonchalantly. “Have a nice day, sir,” Seven said while puffing on his blunt. The young hustler stepped out of the car and by the way Seven was treating him, the offer that Baby had presented to him and his crew was looking more tempting by the second. He slammed the door and then took a couple of steps back. “Yo', Seven,” he called and looked at the tinted window on the passenger side where Seven was sitting. Seconds later Seven rolled down his window while still looking forward and blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. Seven didn't even give him the respect of looking in his direction.
“Yeah?” Seven answered.
“Why you never on the block?” the young hustler asked, knowing that the greatest leaders in history were on the field with their troops at the time of combat. Seven smiled and didn't even think the question was worthy of an answer. Seven understood that he was the boss and didn't have to answer any questions from anyone. Rah slowly pulled off, leaving the young hustler on the sidewalk alone and unanswered. Seven didn't know, but his arrogance had just cost him his most loyal crew. Seven had just lost killers on his team and Millie had just gained some.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Two weeks had passed and neither Seven nor Rah had heard anything else about the B-more crew coming on their most lucrative block. Actually, they heard nothing from their own crew at all. Rah hadn't even gotten a call from them to re-up with heroin, which threw up red flags, because that block ran through numerous bricks per week on average. Rah was on his way to the block to see what the cause was of the sudden drop in production. He had a surprise waiting on him when he pulled onto the block. He pulled up to the street with a duffle bag full of bricks in his passenger side, ready to hit the youngsters off with the dope even though they hadn't requested a re-up.
Rah stepped out of the car and noticed the group of hustlers sitting on the stoop as usual, but an unfamiliar face was in the middle talking with the hustlers, as fiends loomed around the area like zombies.
“Yo', what the fuck is going on? Why y'all niggas just sitting around?” Rah said in an authoritative tone, knowing that they should have been at their post moving that work.
“Because, it's a new sheriff in town,” a man said as he stood up and stepped off the stoop.
“Who the fuck is this nigga?” Rah said, pointing and not even looking at the man, but looking past him. Rah brushed past him, bumping him hard, turning the man's body violently. Rah looked at his crew and the lead young hustler stepped out and put his hand on his waist as if he was going for his gun.
“Handle that nigga,” Rah instructed as he continued to walk toward the dope house so he could break down the bricks and distribute them. However, just before Rah reached the door the young hustler spoke. “No, Rah. Why don't you handle him!” the young hustler yelled in a menacing tone, remembering how Rah and Seven belittled him weeks ago.
“What?” Rah said, not believing what he had just heard from the youngster. Rah dropped the bag and knew that his gangster was getting tested, so he was about to show them that he wasn't against putting in work. He pulled out a snub nose pistol and walked hurriedly to the man who had originally stepped out of line, who was Baby.
Rah swiftly grabbed Baby by the neck and then stuck his gun against Baby's forehead.
“You might not want to do that,” Baby said as he smiled even though he was looking down a barrel of Rah's gun.
“What nigga?” Rah said, not understanding how Baby could be so calm in such a compromising position.
“Look around,” Baby said as he put both of his hands up. Rah jaws were clenched tightly as he stared at Baby with a burning desire to kill him. Rah finally looked around and saw five different guns being pointed at him by his own crew.
“Oh, it's like that, huh?” Rah asked, not believing how his crew had all of a sudden turned on him. Rah knew he was outnumbered so he released the grip he had on Baby and stepped back, but still had his gun pointed directly at Baby's head.
“Yeah, it's like that,” one of the young hustlers yelled as they fixed their aim on Rah's head.
“My boss wants to make you and your man Seven an offer. You can get money with us or you can get pushed out. It's all on you,” Baby said as he smirked casually and showed not an ounce of fear, even though he was being held at gunpoint. “This block is not your block anymore. If you want it back, tell Seven to meet me here. Time is of the essence, playboy. My boss will be here to talk business,” Baby said as he walked past Rah, disregarding the fact that he had a gun pointed at him, and stepped onto the stoop and sat down. Rah slowly lowered his gun and nodded his head, conceding defeat. He made sure he looked each young hustler in the eye before he walked back to his car, non-verbally letting them know that he would make them pay for their betrayal. Rah knew that the dope game was a big business and he would have to handle it as just that and make plans to see Baby's boss. He grabbed his duffle bag and returned to his car and headed over to see Seven. This was the beginning of a war.
 
 
Seven slammed his fist on the table after hearing the news from Rah. He grabbed his cane that leaned against the oak table and slowly stood up. He limped from around his desk in his home office as Rah sat on the leather couch a few feet away from him with his hands folded into one another, shaking his head from side to side.
“Who are these B-more niggas?” Seven questioned as he hobbled to the bar to pour himself a drink.
“Don't know. He just said his boss wanted to meet you tomorrow at noon on the block,” Rah said, relaying the message.
“Who is his boss? The nigga got to have some balls. Coming on my block like that?” Seven said as he downed the shot of cognac. “I'ma show his ass! Set up a meeting,” Seven said just before he exited the room, leaving Rah there alone. Rah stood up and headed back to the block, so he could set something up between the two bosses: Seven and the unknown second party . . . Millie.
An hour later Rah was pulling back onto the block. A dark blue, luxury Maybach with temporary plates was parked on the block and he pulled up just behind it. He walked up to the stoop where Baby was sitting and with a mean mug, and he addressed him.
“Yo', where is your boss?” Rah asked.
“Don't worry about us. Where is Seven?” Baby asked as he leaned back on both of his elbows.
“Take me to your boss, you bitch-ass nigga. Why am I even talking to you right now? I'm speaking on Seven's behalf for now,” Rah demanded as waved his hand at Baby, dismissing him as if he was a flunky.
“Okay, have it your way. Boss is in the backseat waiting for you,” Baby said as he pointed at the tinted Maybach. Rah immediately looked behind him and spotted the car. Rah, without fear, walked over to the car, and the passenger-side window rolled down. A female's face emerged; it was Lovie.
“Get in the back,” she ordered in her heavy Baltimore accent just before rolling the window back up and disappearing again. Rah took a deep breath, patted his waist to make sure his strap was there, and opened the back door. He slid in and what he saw totally surprised him. Millie was sitting in the backseat with her legs crossed, smoking a cigarette.
“Damn, Rah, you look like you just seen a ghost,” Millie said as she smiled and looked over at Rah.
“What the fuck?' Rah whispered as he tried to figure out in his head what was going on. But before anything else could be said, Millie swiftly pointed a gun to his head that was concealed on the side of her. The goon in the driver seat along with Lovie also turned around and pointed guns in Rah's face. He was totally vulnerable and taken off guard. He had three locked and loaded weapons pointed at his head, and what he thought was going to be a negotiation turned out to be into a plotted-out ambush. Millie reached into Rah's waist and relieved him of his pistol.
“Let's go,” she said and her goon turned around and pulled off as she and Lovie still kept their guns on Rah. Millie had already had a plan B if Seven didn't come, and they were doing just that.
The next day Seven rode through the block looking for Rah. After Rah had left him to meet the B-more crew, he never returned, which had Seven kind of worried.
“Where is this nigga at?” Seven whispered to himself as he scanned the block, cruising slowly down the street in an F-150 truck, his most low-key car. Seven had some of his goons who came with him from Flint tailing him just to have his back if anything popped off. Seven checked his rearview mirror and saw the green Grand Prix that was full of his shooters as he bent the corner. He pulled up on the same block where Rah had been earlier and saw young hustlers posted on each block, obviously hustling. He pulled up on one of them and the young hustler squinted his eyes, trying to see through Seven's light tint. The naïve hustler assumed that Seven was a fiend who was pulling up to get served.
“Yo', I got that Lady Luck!” the young hustler said and it instantly made Seven frown his face up.
“Lady Luck?” Seven whispered as he stopped and looked at the hustler approaching him. As the young hustler walked up on the car, he looked up and down the street to check for cops. Seven immediately began to think about his hometown, Flint, MI, where Lady Luck was a hot commodity and this made him think about Hassan. The boy walked up to the car and Seven rolled down the window. The boy opened his hand, revealing the pack of dope that had the blue stamp that Seven once flooded the streets with.
Is Hassan the one moving in on me? How did he know I know I was in Ohio?
Seven thought as so many different things ran through his mind as he caught a glimpse of the stamp on the pack the young hustler had. Seven's face wasn't familiar with the hustler, so he didn't realize that he was trying to serve his former boss. Seven took out twenty dollars and traded the boy for the pack; just to see if what he was thinking was true. He looked at the pack and verified that it was an official Lady Luck stamp. He rolled up his window and drove off. “What the fuck is going on?” Seven whispered as he began to drive off; his paranoia had just elevated to an all-time high. Just before he reached the corner, the young hustler who he had belittled weeks ago waved down the car, noticing the truck because Rah occasionally drove it through the hood.
“Yo', have you seen Rah?” Seven asked after he came to a complete stop and rolled down his window.
“Yeah, I seen him,” the hustler answered while smirking.
“And? Where the nigga at?” Seven yelled, getting frustrated with the lack of information. All of a sudden the young hustler reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, red box that had a silver bow on it. It was the size of a ring box and he dropped it in Seven's lap. The young hustler turned and walked away from the car. “What the fuck is this?” Seven asked as he frowned up. “Yo'!” Seven yelled as the hustler continued to the stoop where the other hustlers waited for him at. Seven picked up the box and examined it. A small tag hung from the bow and he slowly opened it, only to find a number and a few words on it that read: COME TO MAMA. He didn't understand the message, but he soon would. Seven then opened it up and what he saw made his heart jump up in his throat. A bloody, severed finger was placed in the box, propped up as if it were an expensive jewelry display, and the putrid smell of decaying human flesh almost made him gag. A diamond, invisible-set pinky ring was placed on the finger and he automatically knew that it was Rah's body part. Seven had bought Rah the ring when they first relocated to Columbus, Ohio as a token of his appreciation for Rah's loyalty. Before Seven could even get angry and ask the young hustler where this came from, bullets began to rain. Seven heard bullets whiz past his head and the thumping noises of the bullets hitting the side of his truck sounded like a black college band on game day. Seven quickly rolled up his window, knowing they were bulletproof, and by instinct he ducked down. He looked and saw that the same young hustlers who used to work for him were now emptying their whole clip at him, trying to murder him. He quickly pulled off the block and his goons who were behind him traded shots with the young boys. The sounds of automatic assault rifles filled the air and the block was on fire; total chaos.

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