Family Over Everything (19 page)

“That nigga Jewels is dead, man. This was the ultimate form of disrespect. Not only was it fucking embarrassing, but also disrespectful. He got to go!” he vowed.

When Deion awoke the next morning, he was immediately hit with a massive headache from the previous night's event. He sat up in his king-sized bed, holding his head and grunting. Hopping out of the bed, he started to curse as his cell phone rang until he saw it was Day'onne.

“What's up, bro?” Deion answered.

“Yo, did you hear what happened at the club last night after you left?”

“No, what happened?”

“Turn on the news, now.”

Reaching for his remote, Deion flopped back down onto the bed and turned the television on. His eyes expanded in shock and he turned the volume up.

“
We're reporting live in the Strip District, on the Southside of Pittsburgh, where once again, violence has struck. Early this morning around four, a group of unidentified men barged into a new club, Club Majestic, armed with shotguns, .45 handguns, and AK-47's, a witness has told us. These unidentified men opened fire on the owner of the club, Day'onne Jenkins, and his entourage, killing over a dozen people and injuring fifteen. The horrific event occurred at the grand opening of this establishment. Mr. Jenkins has been contacted for questioning, but police are labeling it as drug-related.

If you have any information on this massacre, please contact your local law enforcement officials.”

Deion shook his head in disbelief as he turned the television back off and directed his attention back toward his cell phone.

“Who the fuck did this shit?”

“Jewels, man. That nigga going to get his, though. But lay low for the next couple days or so and keep your heat on you,” Day'onne stated, firmly, before ending the call.

M
ercedes sat in between Sugar's thick legs as Sugar flat-ironed her long hair. She closed her eyes tightly as the hot tool ran through her hair and almost burned her scalp. They were the only two there; the other prostitutes were on the corner making that money.

“What the hell is up with Corrine?” Sugar asked, finally breaking the silence.

The mention of Corrine's name brought Mercedes to tears, but she held them back. She couldn't believe how bad the streets of Northview and the cocaine had turned Corrine and Tessa completely out. From the very beginning, all three of the girls had vowed that they'd stick together, but to Mercedes it felt as if the promise was being broken. She hated how Corrine took all the pain and frustration she had against the world and let the hard poundings of her clients' penises and the peaceful feeling that cocaine gave her, help her to escape her reality. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she allowed her mind to drift to all the money she was making. Even though she despised the fact that she was opening her legs up and letting any man deep in, the money somewhat soothed the feeling.

The moment she'd started making money, she'd started to stack it, refusing to touch it and hoping one day to get Corrine, Tessa, and herself out of Northview and off the streets.

She had saved more than fifteen grand and counting.

“I don't know, Sugar. She's going through some things.”

“Well, um, that trick about to get the boot. Corrine and Tessa,” Sugar said harshly.

Mercedes tensed up and turned around to face Sugar. “What? Why?” she asked.

“Those bitches fucking with my money. They're out there smoking that glass dick and spending my half of the money on drugs and shit. They got to go; I'm sorry.”

For the past couple of weeks, Corrine and Tessa would disappear for numerous days. They were out in the streets smoking Sugar's half of the money they'd earned from prostituting. She was fed up. She'd accepted the girls with open arms and could be nice at times, but when they messed with her money, that's when she had to draw the line.

“Sugar, please give them one more chance! I'm sure they just going through things!” Mercedes pleaded.

“I know you might not want your friends out on those streets, but I'm sorry, both of them got to go. They're fucking up my money; they lucky I didn't dig in their asses yet,” Sugar snapped. “But I'm going to be cool about it only because I feel sorry for those little girls. All they got to do is get their shit and get the fuck out of my crib.”

A couple of tears trickled down Mercedes cheeks. Standing, she said, “Well, if they go, then I go, too, Sugar.”

“What? You're my number one money-maker now!”

“Oh, well. Those are my sisters and we've always vowed to stick together no matter what. Like I said, if they go, I go, too,” Mercedes said firmly.

Sugar shook her head and threw her hands up in surrender. “Alright, they got less than a month to get their shit together,
Mercedes. If they don't have any of my money up front, they're out of here.”

A couple of hours later, Corrine staggered into Sugar's apartment tired and high out of her mind. Mercedes, who was already dressed for her shift, fought back her tears as she looked at her. Corrine was a far cry from the person she used to be before prostituting. Her once thick frame was now very petite and she almost looked as if she was suffering from anorexia. Her long, wavy hair was now brittle dry and broken off and her frail knees buckled with every step she took.

Mercedes pulled Corrine into her arms, sobbing and the two sank to the floor.

“What are you doing to yourself, sister? Why are you doing this?” Mercedes cried.

“Please help me,” Corrine said through her dry, cracked lips.

She broke down in Mercedes' arms, wailing out a low, agonizing scream. Mercedes rocked her in her arms, assuring her it would all be okay.

“I'm going to get you and Tessa some help, girl.”

“Where is Tessa?”

“I don't know. Do you want me to check upstairs?”

“Yeah, can you go get her? I want to ask her something.”

Mercedes nodded and unwrapped her arms from around Corrine's body.

“You stay here, I'll go see if she's upstairs.”

Corrine watched through bloodshot, glassy eyes as Mercedes ran upstairs. When the sound of her sister's footsteps faded, she turned and ran out of the house, digging into her pocket, making sure her nickel bag of cocaine was still there.

Running into the usual crack house, she went into a corner and squatted, shaking uncontrollably. Repeating her normal routine,
she grabbed a dirty needle and bent spoon from the ground. When she was done preparing the drug and was ready for her injection, she heard a faint sound coming from the next room.

Slowly standing, her body trembling, she cautiously walked into the next room. Squinting, she saw a familiar emaciated, light-skinned girl sitting in a corner with her long legs pulled up against her chest and mumbling under her breath. The small girl's eyes appeared dark and empty.

“Tessa? Is that you?” Corrine cried, kneeling next to her.

“I need some, Corrine. I need it now!” Tessa mumbled in a daze.

She fell to her side and vomited, her slim hands clutching her stomach.

Corrine sighed and grabbed Tessa's arm. Amid the numerous needle track marks, she found a small vein protruding. Taking the needle that she'd already prepared for herself, she breathed deeply and slowly injected Tessa with it.

Tessa's body tensed, then went limp. Her head falling back, she went into a nod.

Tears falling, Corrine wrapped her slim arms around Tessa's frail frame. “Things will get better for us, sister. Things will get better.”

Jewels sat in one of his old safe houses with Respect and the rest of his former workers.

All twelve men sat around a table, counting the money they'd taken during the shoot-out and robbery at Club Majestic. That night, Jewels and his team had stolen over a million dollars worth of jewelry, money, and even drugs.

“Who the fuck keeps bricks at their club? They're some of the
dumbest niggas I know,” Jewels' worker, Brooke, laughed as he fingered through the money.

Jewels, who sat at the table in deep thought, couldn't fathom the thought of Day'onne still breathing. Even though Jewels, Respect, and the rest of his team had killed a dozen of Day'onne's workers, Jewels still wasn't satisfied because Day'onne was still alive.

“You good, man?” Respect asked, noticing something was bothering him.

“I still can't believe this nigga is still breathing. How the fuck did we miss? How the fuck did we let him, Menace, and Troy get away?” Jewels growled, standing to his feet and shaking his head.

“Don't stress it, boss. That nigga going to get his, believe that. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but we'll get him,” Brooke said.

“No, I can't sleep with the thought of that nigga still alive. I got to get him before he gets me. I can't sleep with the thought of how many times that nigga has violated me.”

“Well, at least that bitch Relisha dead.” Respect shrugged.

Respect didn't have one care in the world for Day'onne. He was ready to get back on the streets and make that money once again. He was middle-aged now and it had been too long since he'd been at the top of his game. He wanted to be back up there. He craved to be.

If they took all of the money they'd stolen and flipped it, they'd be making twice as much as they'd robbed them for in no time.

“Man, fuck that bitch,” Jewels said, rubbing his salt-and-pepper goatee.

As if he'd just had an epiphany, he snapped his fingers and flashed a bright smile. “Yo, don't he got a younger sister?”

“Yeah, but that bitch a crackhead hoe; the whole fucking Northview been in that.” Brooke laughed.

“Yeah, I think I got her on video sucking some young nigga off,” Cash said.

Jewels nodded and sat back down. He looked around the wooden table as he folded his hands behind his head. “Hmm, maybe we could get her next?”

“What? That nigga don't give a fuck about her! Day'onne's a cold motherfucker. If he cared about her, she wouldn't be out there fucking for money while that nigga sitting on millions,” Brooke said.

“You right, young buck. But what about his twin? Deion?”

“That nigga be low-key. How are we going to catch him?”

“Good point. But I'm sure he be with Day'onne at times. If we get Corrine and get in contact with him for some ransom money, we could get both of them bitches.”

“Sounds good. Kill two birds with one stone!” Respect laughed evilly.

“Indeed!” Jewels smiled, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together.

“W
hat's up, bro?” Deion asked as he hopped into Jarell's silver Benz.

“What's up? How you holding up, my brother?”

“Man, not good. I need to clear my head,” Deion said, shaking his head.

He pulled out a blunt and lit it.

“Damn, when did you start smoking?” Jarell laughed.

“A couple of months ago. But, what's good with you? You good?”

“Oh, yeah, you already know. I'm glad that I decided to get out of the streets when I had a chance. It isn't the same anymore. Niggas snitching on they own people and shit? No, I had to go.”

“I feel you. That's what's up, though.”

“Thank you. But what about you? What's good with your book? I don't hear you mention it anymore.”

“Man, I don't even know. I don't think I'm going to write again. There isn't any money in the writing industry like in these streets,” Deion said, shrugging.

Jarell's Benz came to an abrupt halt, startling Deion. Jarell looked at Deion as if he'd lost his mind. “What the fuck you mean?”

“I don't know. I—”

Jarell's deep, baritone voice boomed, surprising Deion. “You what, Deion? You what? Too caught up in these fucking streets? The money?”

“I guess. But—”

“But what, man? I've never seen anyone in the fucking hood that was so career-driven like you were. You had so much potential, bro. You wrote a fucking book and you made it out of the hood! Then you came back hustling for that nigga, Day'onne? Talking about you done with writing? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jarell growled angrily.