Family Over Everything (17 page)

Corrine sat on all fours in an abandoned building, giving oral sex to an around-the-way hustler. She stopped sucking for a moment, letting him place a trail of coke on his penis, then sniffed the whole trail up her nose. She was high out of her mind, now a full-blown addict.

The hustler smiled, using his cell phone to videotape her sucking his penis. In the three months since she had turned her first client and smoked the laced blunt, she'd gotten hooked on both.

The hustler threw his head back, enjoying every lick and suck
Corrine's slim, warm tongue threw at him. Within a couple of minutes, she had him ejaculating into her mouth and talking in tongues. She finally rose, wiping her mouth and nose.

The hustler turned his nose up in disgust, tossed a bill at her, and watched her snatch it up.

“You fucking crack-whore!” he spat coldly, flipping his cell phone closed and walking out of the apartment.

A couple hours later when her high started to wear off, she left the abandoned building, ready for her next dose. She walked through the streets of Northview with her head down, rubbing her ashy arms and scratching her pale neck.

She took the twenty-dollar bill she'd made earlier and looked around for any local drug dealer to supply her with her next fix. When she reached the top of Chicago Street, she saw a couple of them on the blocks, laughing and joking around. Walking up to them, she startled one of the dudes that went by the name of Loco. Loco quickly pulled out his pistol, aiming it at her head, causing her to urinate on herself out of fear.

“It's me!” she yelled, holding her arms up in surrender.

Loco shook his head, and then placed his gun back into his hoodie before reaching into his pockets. He pulled out a dime bag, tossing it to Corrine. Catching it, she put the money in his hand and ran to a nearby crack house, her mouth watering and body yearning for the addictive drug.

That crackhouse was the place where all the junkies went to get their fixes and go into a peaceful nod. When she walked in, she gripped the drug in her hands, shielding it with her life. Everyone up in there was known for trying to stick up the other fiends for their drugs, but she wasn't having it. Walking to a nearby corner, she picked up a dirty needle that almost every junkie had used once upon a time.

Picking up a dirty bent spoon from the ground and taking a
lighter out of her pocket, she poured some of the drug onto the spoon, lit it, and watched it melt.

When the cocaine was fully melted, she took the needle and sucked the drug into it. She tapped her arm, repeatedly, trying to find a vein.

After a couple minutes passed and still no vein formed, she pulled down her pants and underwear, spread her legs, and ejected the drug into her vagina. Her body stiffened for a second before she went into a nod, temporarily forgetting about all her pain and problems, escaping her harsh realities in this cold, dirty world.

It was two in the morning when Mercedes finally arrived back into Sugar's apartment. She'd spent half of the money that Deion had given her, so she could get back home. She gave Sugar the other half of the money and asked, “Did you see Corrine?”

“Shit, I haven't seen her all day. That little girl really needs to slow down. She be disappearing for days, then coming back high. She better get her shit together soon or she's out of here,” Sugar stated firmly.

Mercedes nodded and swallowed the huge lump in her throat. Running upstairs into the guest room, she found Tessa sleeping.

Turning on the lights, she walked to Tessa's bed and collapsed next to her.

“Wake up, Tessa!” she said, shaking her frantically.

“What, Mercedes? What's wrong?” she asked, sitting up and glancing around the room.

Her eyes were glassy and her hair was a tangled mess. There was dried-up cocaine caked around her nose and Mercedes noticed that she'd lost a couple of pounds.

“Remember that dude, Deion, Corrine used to tell us about?”

“Yeah, her brother?” Tessa asked, removing a small, folded up piece of foil from her bra.

Mercedes watched as she unfolded it and held it to her nose, sniffing the white powder as if her life depended on it.

“You and Corrine's asses need to slow down on that shit! Give me it!” Mercedes yelled, snatching the foil out of Tessa's hand and throwing it to the other side of the room.

Tessa jumped to her feet, running to retrieve the foil; sniffing the rest of it, she collapsed to the floor, going into a head nod. Mercedes watched in pain as slobber seeped from the corner of her younger sister's mouth. Squatting next to her, she wrapped Tessa's limp arms around her neck and helped her to her feet. She laid her in the bed, then lay next to her, stroking her hair and crying.

The next morning, she woke up to Corrine walking in the room. She barely recognized her with her pale skin, dry hair and the almost lifeless look in her eyes.

“Where were you yesterday?” she asked groggily.

“Why the fuck you worried about it, Mercedes? I was out, damn,” Corrine said.

“Okay, calm down, girl. But I have some good news, Corrine. Guess what?” Mercedes smiled.

“What now?”

Taking a deep breath, she picked up Corrine's hands and and held them in her own. Corrine had been waiting for this moment for the past eight years and now that it had come, her sister would finally be happy.

“Corrine, I found your brother,” she said, flashing her a bright smile.

Shrugging, Corrine stared at Mercedes. “Oh, is that all?”

“What do you mean, is that all? I thought you'd be happy.”

“Fuck would I be happy for? I don't give a fuck about them! I got my own life like they got their own lives; fuck that shit!”

“Calm down, Corrine. You're speaking out of anger but—”

“I'm not speaking out of anger! I don't give a fuck about them so leave it at that, Mercedes. Now leave me the fuck alone; I need some sleep,” Corrine spat venomously, climbing under the covers.

“Well, I tried,” she mumbled, throwing her hands up in surrender.

“Y
ou ready for the grand opening of the club tonight?” Day'onne asked Deion as they cruised through downtown in Day'onne's canary yellow Range Rover.

They'd just come from meeting with the Cubans to re-up on the drug supplies and Deion was exhausted.

“Damn, I forgot all about that damn club. What is it called?”

“Club Majestic, nigga. Are you coming?”

“Yeah, I guess so. What are you wearing?”

“I don't even know yet, but whatever you wear, make sure you look official, homie,” Day'onne said. “You're representing us; every big street nigga is going to be there.”

He had spent the last couple of months preparing for his grand opening and the day had finally come. He made sure only celebrities and the hustlers that rang bells in the streets were only invited to this particular event. He wanted to make sure everything was on point because his reputation was on the line.

“You don't have to remind me, Day'onne. I got this, man.”

Deion remained quiet the whole way home. Ever since he'd met up with Mercedes and found out Corrine was prostituting, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He wasn't in a mood for anything except to go home and get some rest.

Day'onne pulled up in front of Deion's condominiums. “Please, Deion, whatever you do, look your best. I never really ask you for
shit, but this event is big. All the major heads in the game will be there. Look your best!”

“Alright, damn, man!”

“Alright, see you tonight at the club,” Day'onne said before pulling off.

“You ready for this shit to pop off tonight?” Jewels asked Relisha when she walked into his bedroom.

Knowing she had to look her best, she'd just come from shopping. Walking into Jewels' room with a Fendi bag in her hand, she smiled brightly as she pulled a brown dress out and held it against her thick frame. The dress was long-sleeved and cut out in the back with a deep plunge in the front that would turn heads.

“Damn, I'm going to get a couple numbers tonight!” she mumbled under her breath, examining herself in the mirror.

“Are you fucking listening to me? Are you ready for tonight, Relisha?” Jewels growled, grabbing her arm.

“Yeah, nigga! You asked me that like five times already!”

“I want to make sure you ready; that's it. This shit is all on you, Ma. Don't fuck it up!”

“All you want me to do is get them into one room? What could be so damn hard about that, Jewels?”

“That's not the point. When I get them niggas, I want to make sure they don't see it coming, Ma. It's your job to make sure all attention is diverted on you with that mean-ass dress. That's all you got to do, look sexy, and play your part,” Jewels stressed.

“Okay, I got you, Daddy; don't worry about it.”

“Alright, Ma. Just checking.”

When Deion pulled up in front of Club Majestic, his jaw almost dropped when he saw the large crowd of people. The parking lot almost looked like a car show with luxurious cars from chromed out Phantoms, to bright Range Rovers sitting on large rims. There was a long line of people wrapped around the building, hoping and praying to get into one of the hottest parties and grand openings of the year.

Deion took a blunt out of his pocket and lit it, taking a long, deep pull from it. He would need something to get him through the long night and marijuana would do the job. He coughed uncontrollably as he inhaled it deeply. Grabbing his chest, he exhaled, trying to catch his breath. When he finally caught his breath he rolled his shoulders back, glanced at himself in the mirror, opened up the door to his car, and stepped out.

Deion was dressed in a brown Armani suit and cream Stacy Adams gator shoes. He'd allowed his once clean-shaven hair to grow and it was now cut into a sleek temple fade. A pair of fourteen carat diamond-studded earrings adorned his ears, and a gold-diamond necklace with a Jesus charm piece hung from his neck.

Walking in front of the club, Deion met up with Day'onne, Menace, Troy, and the rest of their entourage, who'd hopped out of a black Hummer limousine.