Chapter Eleven
T
asha heard the doorbell ring, and Ms. Pat yelled up the stairs for her to come down. “Who the hell is here for me?” she asked herself as she descended the steps. She went to the door and saw Joe standing there waiting for her. He had on some Sean John jeans, a white T-shirt, all white Force One's, and a red fitted hat. Tasha smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” he answered with a sexy grin.
Tasha folded her arms. “What about your girl?”
“I dropped her ass off. I told you, that's nothing. She was just something to do for the moment.”
Tasha frowned disapprovingly. “And what am I?”
Joe neglected to answer the question. “You want to go for a ride?”
Tasha looked down at the clothes she had on. She was wearing gray sweat pants and a pink Michigan State baby T-shirt. “Let me get dressed. You already saw me looking tore up earlier. I got to redeem myself.”
“Alright, I'll wait. Can I have a seat in the living room?”
“Sure. I'll be right back.”
Tasha walked up the stairs and hurried into the room. She pulled out a mint green Christian Dior dress and applied her bronze makeup and fixed her hair. Excited to go out with Joe, she was dressed in under fifteen minutes. It had been a long time since they had spent time together. Just the simple fact that he had come over unannounced to see her made her think that he missed her.
By the time she re-entered the living room, Joe had already sweet-talked his way into Ms. Pat's good graces. Ms. Pat was smiling and laughing with Joe as if she had known him from the day he was born.
“I'm ready,” Tasha stated as she walked into the room. The expression on Joe's face when he saw her confirmed what she already knew. She looked damn good. Tasha spun, to give him the full view.
“We all know you're gorgeous,” Ms. Pat stated with a weak smile.
Tasha kissed Ms. Pat's cheek. “I won't be out too long.”
“Don't worry about me. Spend some time with your friend.” Ms. Pat then turned to Joe. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Joe. Make sure you come around again.”
“I definitely will, Ms. Pat. Take care.”
Tasha had to crack a smile as she followed Joe to his car. He had completely won Ms. Pat over. “Where are we going?” she asked.
Joe ignored her and turned up the volume to the music as they cruised down the block.
Tasha was quiet on the way there. She had a lot on her mind. She hadn't seen Joe in a long time and, for some reason, was nervous around him. She had changed a lot since they had last seen each other, and didn't know if he would like the new her.
They ended up at Sylvia's. Joe knew it was Tasha's favorite soul food spot, and one of the best in town.
As they sat over dinner, Tasha could feel Joe's eyes on her. “How you doing?” he asked her.
“I'm fine. Everything's good.”
Joe didn't know exactly what was bothering her, but she wasn't acting the same. He reached across the table and grabbed her hands. “You cool? You need something?”
“No. All I need is you right now. It's good to see you. It seems like it's been forever.” Tasha gave him a smile that melted his heart.
“So, when did you get back?”
“I just got here yesterday. Ms. Pat has cancer. We had to come and meet with some doctors.”
Joe noticed the sadness in her tone as she spoke about Amra's mother. “I'm sorry to hear about that.” He shook his head. “She seems like good people.”
They finished their dinner in silence. Both of them seemed to just be satisfied with one another's company. They were also unsure of how to approach one another. Joe admired the woman who sat in front of him, yet he couldn't figure her out. She seemed so confident, had the wit and sexiness of a mature woman despite her youthful age, but there was also sadness in her. He could tell she wanted to be with him, but for some reason, she was stopping herself from doing so.
When their dinner was complete, Joe said, “I want to take you somewhere.” He drove her to an apartment building in Brooklyn, and they climbed up the fire escape, all the way to the top.
“What is this place?” Tasha asked, admiring the view of the city lights.
“I used to live in this building when I was little. I used to come up here and throw rocks at cars and shit,” Joe said, reminiscing on his childhood years.
Tasha laughed softly. “Okay, bad ass.”
Joe sat down on the edge of the rooftop and pulled Tasha close. “For real. I still come up here sometimes, you know, to clear my head when shit gets hectic.”
Tasha leaned against him and relaxed for the first time in a long time. It felt good to lean against his strong body. It felt even better to be with a man she liked. Joe wasn't a job, he was just Joe. Naturally intrigued by his demeanor, she didn't have to pretend to be interested in him. There was something about him that made her heart flutter. She exhaled deeply and Joe held her tighter. “I missed you,” Tasha admitted to him as she relaxed in his arms.
Joe didn't say anything. It felt good to have her in his arms. He'd thought about her a lot since she left, and he was glad she was safe and doing well.
Tasha tilted her head to look at him. She remembered she never could figure out what he was thinking. “Why do you do that? I can never figure you out. I never know how you are feeling.”
Joe looked her directly in the eyes. “Words really don't mean shit, anyway. Me saying how I feel don't make it any more real than me showing you how I feel,” he said in a low tone.
“That's just it. You don't show me either. I try to guess, but I don't know. I guess I just don't want to let myself feel something that's not really there. If I was sure that you felt the same way for me that I feel for you, I would have never gone to Flint.”
“I know I'm not too good at this emotional stuff. I probably should've told you how I felt about you a long time ago, but this is all new to me. I've never had anybody give a damn about me. I've never loved anybody else but myself. Then you come along, and the feeling is so unfamiliar to me, I probably did handle you wrong. I'm not used to caring about another person. I never meant to confuse you, ma.”
“You don't know how much shit I've gone through this past year. I'm not the same anymore,” she whispered.
A tear escaped Tasha's eyes, and Joe trapped it with his thumb and brushed it away as he gripped her hair gently, bringing her face close to his. “Did somebody hurt you?” he asked, his voice becoming aggressive.
Tasha knew he would protect her if she needed him to. “No,” she replied. “I don't want to talk about anything but us. I just want to be here right now with you.”
He grabbed her face softly and kissed her gently on the lips, and Tasha kissed him back, firmly wanting to taste him. Her heart was beating fast. She'd already decided that if he tried to make love to her, she wasn't going to stop him.
Joe laid her on her back and started kissing her face, slowly working his way down her body. He unzipped the back of her dress and gently pulled it off of her perfect body. His kisses focused on her breasts, and she felt the tingles run up and down her spine as he gently sucked on her big brown nipples. He kissed her stomach, making his way to her thighs, lingering at her inner thigh.
Joe pulled off her black thong panties and simply kissed her clitoris as if he was kissing her mouth. He caressed her with his tongue, and she felt a sensation she had never experienced before. His hands felt good on her body, and his tongue felt even better inside of her.
Tasha arched her back and pulled him back up, wanting to see his face. She wanted him to tell her how he felt about her. She needed to hear three little words escape his mouth. She reached for his jeans and unbuttoned them. She felt his dick. It was hard, thick, and big, so she knew he would satisfy her completely. She crawled on top of him and worked her way down to his erect manhood, which was standing tall, and gently began to kiss it, starting at the tip and working her way down. Tasha had once said, “You will never catch a dick in my mouth!” but she loved Joe and just wanted to please him. She tried to take him into her mouth, but it was harder than she had expected.
Joe could tell she didn't know what she was doing, so he pulled her up and kissed her. He could tell that she was a virgin. It didn't bother him, though. He was actually happy about it. He took it slow, and gently put his manhood inside her.
Tasha flinched as he tried to penetrate her. It took a while because she was tight, and it hurt like hell as he tried to fit all of his ten inches into her virgin walls. When he finally did, she was wet as hell, and her pussy was tight, making the sex even better. He knew from the way it felt that she was indeed a virgin.
Tasha grimaced; it hurt badly with every stroke. She gripped his back tightly, and her nails dug into his back as he rocked gently in and out of her. The pain slowly transformed into pleasure as he thrust deeply inside of her. “I love you!” she whispered into his ear as he fucked her gently, making sure he wasn't hurting her.
Joe was well endowed, and the harder and deeper he explored, the better it felt.
Tasha climbed on top and straddled him, sitting on his dick, going all the way down until she was sure it had disappeared inside of her. She rode him slowly and loved being in control, especially when she saw the display of pure pleasure on his face.
Joe groaned. Tasha's pussy felt so good. He was fucking her raw, and felt like he was about to explode at any minute. She kissed him, and he smacked her ass as she rode him slowly. “Shit!” He grabbed her ass in a rough way.
Tasha could feel his dick starting to vibrate inside of her, and she rode the dick harder and faster. “Oh my . . . Joe . . .” She held on tight, and they both climaxed together.
She climbed off him, and he grabbed her and laid her on the hard cement floor of the rooftop. Tasha didn't care that they were on an abandoned building. The way Joe was treating her, she felt like she was in a five-star hotel.
Joe kissed her forehead. “I been wanting to show you that.”
She laughed out loud and hit him playfully on the arm. “Joe, I do love you. I don't know why you never say it back, but that is the only reason why I left the first time. You wouldn't tell me what was up. I need you more than you know.” She knew that Joe loved her. She just wanted to hear it. She put on her dress, and they fell asleep on the roof, holding each other tight.
Tasha's phone rang and woke her up. “Hello?” She tapped Joe to wake him up.
Amra said, “Tasha, where are you? Our plane leaves at four. I just wanted to make sure you remembered.”
Tasha looked at the time on her phone. “It's only ten. I'll be there in a few. I want to make sure your moms is okay with us leaving before we go, anyway.” She hung up.
Joe kissed her on the neck. She looked at him and said, “I have to go. I'm supposed to fly back to Flint today.”
He looked at her and shook his head. “You don't have to go back there. Stay here. I'll take care of you. Anything you need, I got you.”
“I want to. You don't know how bad I want to be with you.”
“Then be with me. I got you. Just stay.”
Tasha knew she couldn't stay in New York with Joe. She had to go back to Flint to make the money to pay for Ms. Pat's surgery. “I can't,” she said in a whisper. “I have to take care of something in Flint. I don't want to, but I have to.”
“Whatever it is, I'll take care of it.”
Tasha shook her head. “You can't,”
Tasha knew that Joe didn't have $150,000 to just give away. He was balling, but not to the point where he could give her that much money.
When they got back to Ms. Pat's house, Tasha didn't want to get out of the car. Joe kissed her as if it was the last time he would see her. He pulled out a wad of money and handed it to her. “I love you too. Take care of yourself,” he said to her as she got out of the car.
Tasha turned around and looked at Joe, and tears started to form in her eyes. “I will come back to you. That's my word.” She kissed Joe again and walked into the house.
Joe had never told anybody that he loved them, but he knew that he loved her. It was something about Tasha. He always had known.
When Tasha got in the house, she rushed to the bathroom and collapsed against the door. Leaving Joe for a second time was hard. She knew what she had to do though, and the faster she went back to Flint to handle her business, the faster she could come back home and be with him.
Chapter Twelve
D
etective Smith sat back in his chair, reviewing the criminal file laid out in front of him. He stared at the surveillance pictures that he and his partner had snapped the day before, and tried to think of a way he could take down various drug lords in the Flint area. Troy Smith didn't waste his time with the little guys either. No, he went after the big boys in the game. Over the last five years, he had put more major drug traffickers behind bars than any other narc or detective in FPD history. Born and raised in the 'hood, that gave him an advantage that the other cops hated him for. He didn't associate with other cops or detectives often, but he was well respected because of his accomplishments.
Smith took all of his investigations personally. His mother had been addicted to drugs and had eventually died from an overdose. There were many late nights that he saw his mother high, and heard her having sex with the dope man to pay him for his product. He still had childhood friends involved in the game, but he looked the other way because of loyalty. He couldn't arrest the same people that would have once taken a bullet for him, so he focused his attention on pushers that weren't from his old block. He had been a part of the game until he realized that he was on the wrong side of the law. Drugs were the very reason why his own mother wasn't alive, and when he was hustling, it bothered him that he might have been breaking up another family.
Smith worked as an undercover narcotics agent for many years, and was eventually promoted to detective after his success rate was recognized. His thuggish looks allowed him to infiltrate various drugs rings and eventually bring the operations down.
He had his eye on a couple of known dealers scattered throughout Flint's 'hoods. Of particular interest was one drug dealer named Keyshawn Keys, who for the last four years, reigned in the streets. Smith had been on his tail for years, but couldn't make anything stick. Keys had his shit wrapped tight and wasn't secretive about his profession either. He was cocky, but he was also smart. He had the streets on lock, and in the streets they called him “The New Teflon Don”. No one would testify against him, and if someone actually cooperated with the authorities, they would mysteriously come up missing, quickly change their mind, or end up dead.
How can I take down this arrogant mu'fucka?
Smith knew that there had to be a way to get Keys to slip up. He just hadn't found it yet.
Just as Smith began to put up the files he was viewing, his lieutenant, Jimmy Bonds, walked through the door. “What's up, Troy? How is the Keys investigation coming along? We need results. The captain is getting on my ass about this.” Jimmy flopped down in Troy's desk chair.
“I can't even get an unpaid parking ticket on this cat. He doesn't slip up.”
The lieutenant put both hands on Smith's desk. “I want you to set up surveillance on Key's house. I want his phones tapped, and a twenty-four-hour watch on his place. Let's keep this between us until you can get something concrete on him. He is flooding our streets with cocaine, and he is becoming untouchable.”
“I'll get on it right away,” Smith replied. The lieutenant exited the room, and Smith thought to himself,
The world would be a better place if we didn't have Keyshawn Keys running it.
Troy Smith rode down North Saginaw Street and stopped on his old block to talk to some of his old friends that he had grown up with. He pulled up blasting Pac out of the subwoofers that sat in the back of his Chrysler 300. Smith hopped out of the car and immediately received love from his childhood friends who stood on the corner, trying to make their pay. He didn't agree with what they did, but they were trying to survive, and he understood that. He and his old friends had a mutual agreement. They let him know what was happening in the streets, and he let them know when they were getting hot and needed to lay low. He overlooked their wrongdoings to stay in tune with the streets. This helped Smith find out about incoming shipments and new faces on the scene that were making major moves.
“Yo, what up, kid?” one of the men on the corner yelled out as he and Smith showed each other love.
“What's good, Red?” Smith replied.
The man was smoking a blunt. He passed it to Smith, who took two long drags of the Mary Jane and gave it back. Smith looked at Red and whispered low, “Do we need to talk?”
Red looked around and nodded discreetly.
Smith jumped into his car and drove around the block, then parked on the curb.
A few minutes later, Red walked up and jumped in the car. “Aye, it's this new nigga in town. He is taking shit over. He makes Keys look like a nobody. I mean, he got some shit that's killing fiends. This nigga really got dope that's killing mu'fuckas. And them fiened-out mu'fuckas still want it. It's a demand on the street for what he got.”
Smith rubbed his goatee. “Who is he? And where he be at?”
Red looked around nervously. Smith was his boy from back in the day, but he would never forget that he was also a cop. “I don't know too much about the nigga. Just that he goes by the name Jamaica, and is from New York. He doesn't even talk like he's from around here. Um . . . oh yeah, he likes to go to the Coney Island spot on Corunna. You know, that place Atlas that be jumping after the club lets out.”
Smith nodded and reached out his hand, and the guy slapped hands with Smith and jumped out of the car without saying another word.
Sounds like it's a new sheriff in town.
Smith started his car and pulled off. He decided to roll by Atlas to see if he could get lucky and see this new cat they called Jamaica.
When he reached the restaurant, he parked his car and walked in. The place looked normal, people were talking, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He took a seat and ordered a slice of cheesecake and a coffee.
As he waited for the waiter to bring over his food, a group of men entered the diner. They were five deep, and all eyes glued to them as they entered. The group of men was obviously getting major dough. All of them were iced out with bling adorning their necks and wrists. Their pockets were fat, and they weren't trying to hide it. They took the booth right behind Smith and signaled for the waiter to come their way.
One guy stood out because of his expressionless face. He didn't smile, frown, or directly look at anyone. Obviously he was the head of the crew because he was the first to enter and the first to sit down.
The waiter brought Smith his cheesecake and coffee, and then moved over to the booth behind him and started to take orders. Smith could overhear the conversation, even though the men were almost whispering. Actually, he was eavesdropping.
“This ain't like back home. We got to stay low. I want to take over the South Side next.”
Smith assumed he was the leader of the crew. When the waiter came to the table, the men stopped talking and got their drinks from her. Once she left, he began to speak again.
“Yeah, like I was saying, them niggas that's pushing coke that way got to make room. They got to get down or lay down.”
One of the men added, “I know this chick that's fucking with one of them niggas. I think I might just be giving her a call tonight, Jamaica.”
Smith almost choked on his cake when he heard him say “Jamaica”.
Did he just say Jamaica?
Smith had heard all he needed to hear. He got up without finishing his cake and started to leave. He stared at the man they called Jamaica, and Jamaica stared right back at him. It seemed like it was in slow motion. The two men stared at each other like they had seen each other before. Once Smith passed him, he focused on the door as he exited the diner.
So that's Jamaica. That little nigga. He ain't no older than twenty-five. They are getting younger and younger. I know what he looks like now. He done fucked up.