Family Over Everything (20 page)

“Man, fuck all that. Day'onne is my family and he needed me!” Deion yelled.

Sighing, Jarell pulled over to the curb and parked. Turning to Deion, he said, “Look bro, get the fuck out of these streets before it's too late. These streets don't love anyone. Not you, me, or Day'onne. The streets are talking, and they're gunning for your brother and the rest of your team.”

“Who?”

“Jewels! That nigga want y'all heads on a platter. Get out of this game, Deion. I know he's your family and you want to be there for him, but sometimes you got to think about yourself. Sometimes, family isn't everything. Day'onne's nothing but a cold-hearted motherfucker that'll run over anybody to stay on top. You've got too much talent and brains to be on these streets, bro. You've got to use them,” Jarell said firmly.

“How the fuck you going to tell me all of this when you always wanted me to work for you?”

“That was back in the day, Deion. Are you fucking listening? This world is cruel like your brother! Wake the fuck up! He doesn't give a fuck about you nor anyone else except himself. If you don't get out now, you'll regret it later.”

Deion put his head down into his hands. “Man, I don't know, Jarell. It's like I'm already knee-deep into this shit. The money and fast life, it's addicting.”

“Let me tell you this, when you were younger, everyone in the hood spoke highly of you, even the hustlers. You weren't in the streets, you graduated from high school, and then you wrote a book. Successful! How many people do you know make it to see eighteen, living in Northview, Deion? Everyone wants the best for you, bro. Like I said before, Day'onne's your twin and you want to be there for him, but sometimes you have to do what's best for you.”

Deion nodded, soaking up and digesting everything Jarell was spitting to him. His friend was right.

“Speaking of family, you know your little sister out here strung out? I saw her the other day up Northview and shit. She out here selling her body and on drugs. She needs you, bro. You talking about you need to be there for Day'onne, but you need to be there for your younger sister.”

Deion nodded again, holding his tears that were itching to fall. Every time he thought about Corrine, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

“Alright, bro. Thanks for the talk, I needed this. I'm going to catch up with you later,” Deion said, getting out of the car.

“Alright, don't forget what I said. I really hope you take heed to my advice.”

An hour later, Deion arrived at Day'onne's condominium with his mind still on his conversation with Jarell.

Walking into the front door, he saw Day'onne, Menace, and Troy sitting at the dining room table with empty bottles of Vodka in front of them.

The three men looked as if they hadn't bathed in days. They
appeared rough and stressed out compared to Deion, who was clean-shaven.

Day'onne glared at Deion. “About time you got here. Where the fuck were you at?”

“I was handling some business. What's up with y'all? Why y'all look like y'all haven't washed your asses in days?”

“Man, fuck all of that, we got to worry about getting this money and that nigga Jewels.”

“We were been supposed to get that nigga, Day'onne. And getting this money? We got plenty of it!” Deion gritted his teeth.

“What? Too much money ain't enough money. And when those niggas hit us at the club, they killed most of our workers and took a lot of our product. Plus, the Feds closed my club and I've been losing money by the second,” Day'onne admitted.

“Losing money? What were you doing having the product up in the club? How much they rob us for?”

“They took over fifteen bricks and it's only us four. Since we don't have those young niggas on the blocks making the money for us, we got to do it ourselves,” Menace said.

Deion shook his head in disbelief, taking in what he'd heard. At that point, he knew he was definitely going to take heed to Jarell's advice. He was finally tired of the streets. “Four? No, man, I'm out.”

“Out? What the fuck you mean, you out?” Day'onne barked, hopping in his brother's face.

Deion tightened his jaw and clenched his fists. He knew how dangerous Day'onne was and he refused to let him get a first hit. “You heard what the fuck I said. I'm out. This shit isn't for me, yo. Y'all on y'all own.”

“On our own? Oh, so when shit starts to fall down you want to bitch out like the pussy you always were?”

Without warning, Deion drew his arm back and threw a massive blow at Day'onne, connecting with his right cheek. Day'onne grunted in pain as he tumbled to the floor. Hopping back to his feet, he ice-grilled Deion and pulled his .40 caliber from his waistband, aiming it at him. Deion charged at him. Since Day'onne was drunk, he wasn't fast enough to get a hold on him. Taking the gun from him, he threw it across the room and began punching his brother. Stopping abruptly, he said, “I should beat the fuck out of you, nigga. Raising a fucking gun at me? Next time, you better pull the trigger. Like I said, I'm out the game and that's final.”

“Fuck you, Deion!”

Menace and Troy watched the two brothers, clueless, not sure what to do.

They watched as Deion walked out the dining room and front door, refusing to look back.

D
ay'onne sat in a bar on the Westside, slowly drinking his life away. His hair was wild and untamed, his clothes were disheveled, and his face was drained. He still had a bruise and a couple of scratches on his face from the fight he'd had with Deion a couple of days earlier. People who walked past him couldn't believe their eyes. This was a far cry from the Day'onne they knew. He wouldn't dare come out of the house appearing the way he was.

“What's up, ma?” Day'onne said to the bartender, Ly'Mia.

Ly'Mia fixed her nose up in disgust and ignored him as she started to clean off the bar counter and glasses. Looking at her round assets, he licked his lips and rubbed his crotch.

“I know you hear me, bitch! I said, what's up?”

“What do you want? Don't you have a fucking bank to rob?” Ly'Mia spat cruelly.

“Bank to rob? Bitch, I got millions,” Day'onne lied. “Do you know who the fuck I am?”

“Millions? You could've fooled the hell out of me with the way you look! It barely looks like you got a pot to piss in. You don't have any fucking millions, you broke as hell!”

Day'onne looked down at his clothes, then back up at Ly'Mia. Slamming his glass down, he stood up. Ly'Mia shivered and swallowed the lump in her throat. Looking into his icy, blood-red eyes, she instantly regretted what she'd said.

Day'onne wrapped his cold, beastly hands around her neck, trying his best to take the air away from her lungs. His face was the mask of a demon as he wrinkled up his nose and tightened his grip.

When a small crowd of men saw what was happening, they jumped to their feet and ran over to Day'onne, grabbing and pulling at his clothes, begging him to stop.

His chest heaving, he let her go. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and trembling, tears rushing down her cheek.

“Bitch, you better watch what the fuck you say to me. I will never be broke!” he spat.

Walking out of the bar, he got into his Lexus and drove off. Making his way toward Northview, he was still gripped with anger over Ly'Mia calling him broke.

I need something to take my anger out on,
he thought.

When he arrived up Northview, he searched the streets looking for something to get himself into. When he saw a small, light-skinned girl posted on the corner, he drove his car up next to her and honked the horn.

Tessa folded her arms under her small breasts and wiped her runny nose. “You looking for a good time, baby?” she asked, going into a coughing fit.

Day'onne nodded as he unlocked the door, signaling for her to get into the car. When her fragile body sank into the leather seat, he pulled off. Five minutes later, he pulled in front of an abandoned apartment building and stepped out of the car. Tessa got out and followed him into a cold, empty room in the back.

Day'onne wasted no time pulling down his pants and Calvin Klein boxers and lying down on the single, dirty mattress that addicts and prostitutes used for their clients.

“Suck this dick, bitch!” he spat, gripping her hair.

She winced as he aggressively thrust his penis into her mouth,
turning it dry with every forceful pound. At that moment, she regretted even turning this client, but she was desperate for the twenty dollars that she could use to get her next fix.

Judging by the way he gripped her hair and forced his penis down her throat, she had no choice to do what she was told or else.

Grabbing the base of his penis, she teased his penis with the flat and tip of her long, slim tongue. When he eased the tight grip he had on her hair, she had him where she wanted him, so she went to work.

Day'onne stiffened and balled up his fists, trying not to moan out loud.

Before Tessa knew it, he was already ejaculating. She cringed as the salty flavor seeped down her dry throat.

“Come here,” he barked, grabbing her by her throat and violently slamming her on the mattress.

Tears blinded her vision as she let out a loud, guttural scream as he forcefully parted her legs and vigorously entered her, pounding her tight, dry walls mercilessly. His grip around her neck became tighter and she gasped for air, clawing her nails into his hands, trying to get him to release her.

When Day'onne saw her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her body shaking violently, it aroused him even more, causing him to ejaculate again. He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving. When he caught his breath, he got out of bed and got up. Seeing that her body was limp and her eyes aimlessly stared into space, he realized he'd killed her.

“Damn, what a waste of some fire pussy!” He laughed wickedly, tossing a twenty at her corpse and walking out.

“Have you seen Tessa lately, Corrine?” Mercedes asked.

It was nine in the morning and the two of them lay in their dark room alone after enduring a long day and night of turning clients the previous day. Corrine lay in her bed yearning for a hit, her scary-thin frame shaking under the thin sheets. She shook her head slightly and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. It had been over a week since anyone had seen Tessa, and Mercedes was finally getting worried.

At first, she thought Tessa was ripping and running the streets, disappearing for days like she usually did. But this time, Mercedes' instincts were telling her something wasn't right. She decided to go out and find Tessa herself.

Even though she was exhausted, she got out of bed. After taking a bird bath and throwing on a pair of sweat pants and tank top, she walked downstairs and out of the door.

Walking up Penfort Street, her restless eyes took in the gloomy neighborhood. She watched hustlers hugging the corners and drug addicts yearning for their morning doses. Walking through the row houses, she looked high and low for Tessa, circling the whole neighborhood. After searching for what seemed like hours, she came up empty.

“Hey, have you seen my younger sister, Tessa?” Mercedes asked a local drug dealer. “She's light-skinned and very small?”

“Oh, you talking about that crackheaded hoe? No, I haven't seen her, but when you see her, tell her I got a free nickel bag for some free pussy.” The hustler laughed.

Mercedes clenched her fists in anger and gritted her teeth. “What the fuck you just say?”

“Chill, ma, I'm fucking with you. But if I was you, I would check the abandoned houses. She usually be over there on Chicago Street.”

Mercedes nodded and made her way to Chicago Street. She kept her head down, fighting tears, as she passed bystanders throwing vicious words at her, calling her a “nasty hoe.”

Exhaling heavily, she looked at the dull-colored apartment buildings that had either been burned or completely abandoned. Walking into one of them, she cringed at the sight of multiple addicts in corners in head nods, or having raw sex.