Knee Deep in the Game (16 page)

Read Knee Deep in the Game Online

Authors: Boston George

Chapter Fourteen
“I'm glad to see you made the right choice,” Bamboo said, giving Tito a pound.
“Yeah, it's simple mathematics, you dig? One plus one equals two, I can make more money with you so that's what it is,” Tito responded as he took a seat on the couch.
“We about to do it real big, I hope you ready,” Bamboo said, rubbing his hands together.
“I was born ready, my dude,” Tito said, looking at the two bricks sitting on the counter.
“I'm going to give you two bricks to start you out with a'ight? Move them shits then I'll really break you off with the real shit a'ight?”
“I can dig it,” Tito said, placing the two bricks in a bag.
“Yo, this my man, Rocky, right here,” Bamboo said, pointing to the three-hundred-pound beast standing next to him. “His assignment is to go everywhere with you just in case something pops off or whatever.”
“I don't do bodyguards,” Tito said flatly.
“You sure? You never know—he might just come in handy, you need somebody shot or something. Now you don't have to get your hands dirty,” Bamboo replied.
“The only bodyguard I need is right here,” Tito said, flashing the handle of his P89.
“You really need to lose that goon mentality, you about to be making a lot of money, more money, more problems, more enemies,” Bamboo said, trying to school the youngin' on a few things.
“Call it what you want but I roll solo,” Tito said, tossing the duffel bag over his shoulder
“If you need anything, Tito, you know where to find me.”
“A'ight, baby, good looking,” Tito answered as he broke out.
“Knucklehead is going to have to learn the hard way,” Bamboo said, shaking his head.
 
 
“It's hotter than a mu'fucka out here today. Cops been riding by left and right,” Jason said, giving Pop a quick rundown on what had been going on.
“A'ight, just try to get the customers in and out so shit don't look too suspect,” Pop stated smoothly.
“Oh, yeah, you heard about your man?” Jason asked
“Who that?” Pop asked curiously.
“Tito.”
“What about that cocksucker?” Pop asked carelessly.
“My cousin out in Brooklyn said that Tito out there pumping his own shit,” Jason informed.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Pop said, not believing his right-hand man.
“Nah, I'm dead-ass, my cousin said Tito been taking over niggas spots all over in B.K.”
“I don't believe that, Brooklyn niggas don't fold that easy,” Pop said, not believing the gossip.
“I don't know how he's doing it but it's getting done,” Jason said, lighting up a Newport.
“I wonder if Fresh knows about this,” Pop thought out loud.
“Probably not, you know Tito is a sneaky mu'fucka,” Jason reminded him.
“That clown better keep that bullshit out in Brooklyn 'cause if he come up here with that bullshit it ain't no talking, I'm straight popping off,” Pop stated plainly.
“I can dig it,” Jason said, giving Pop a pound.
Before Pop could say another word he felt his Nextel vibrating. He looked at his phone and saw Melissa's name flashing across the screen.
“Yooo,” he answered.
“Pop, it's me, Melissa,” she said, crying into the receiver.
“What's wrong, baby? I came to your house the other day but you weren't home,” Pop lied.
“Somebody murdered Amanda the other night that's why I haven't been home, I know you heard about it,” she sobbed.
“Please tell me you lying about Amanda?” Pop said, playing it off.
“No Pop, I'm dead serious,” Melissa cried.
“So where are you now?” he asked.
“I'm at my cousin's house, but I'm about to go out of town for a minute so I can be with my family for a while, but I can't leave until I see you first,” Melissa said through a sniffle.
“A'ight, so where do you want to meet me at?” he asked.
“Umm, I'll meet you at ten o'clock at that hotel you took me to last week in the Bronx,” Melissa answered.
“A'ight I'll be there,” Pop told her.
“Okay, I'll see you later,” Melissa replied.
“A'ight,” Pop said, ending the conversation. Pop looked at his watch and saw that it was 9:25. “Yo, I'm about to get up out of here,” Pop said as he gave Jason a pound.
“A'ight, Pop. Holla at me tomorrow.”
Pop hung up the phone but before he could reach his Benz he got stopped by two little kids.
“Pop, can you buy us a soda?” one of the kids asked.
“Y'all brothers ate anything tonight?” Pop asked, digging in his pocket.
“Yeah, we had some cookies earlier,” one of the kids answered
“Some cookies,” Pop said, quoting the young kid. “Here, B. Y'all go get some chicken from the chicken spot down the street,” he said, handing both kids a twenty-dollar bill. “And go straight home when y'all finish 'cause it's getting late!” he yelled over his shoulder as he hopped in his Benz.
“Fuckin' no-good parents,” Pop mumbled out loud as he started up the Benz and peeled off. He had no idea what he was going to say when he saw Melissa face-to-face, or how she would be acting, but he had to see her in person just so shit didn't look suspect. When Pop got close to the hotel, he pulled out his Nextel and called her.
“Yo, I'm a block away from the hotel, where you at?” he asked.
“I'm right here in the front waiting for you,” Melissa answered.
“Okay, I'll be there in one minute,” he said and then hung up.
When Melissa saw the Benz stop right in front of her, she quickly slid in the passenger seat.
“Hey, baby,” she said as she kissed Pop on his cheek.
The ride around the corner to the hotel was a quiet one. Pop didn't know what to say so he just said nothing.
“Yo, let me get a room for two days,” Pop said, pulling out a big wad of cash and paying the desk clerk.
As soon as Pop and Melissa stepped inside the hotel room, she started spilling her guts. “I don't know who could have done this shit,” she said, breaking down in tears.
“Slow down for a minute, and start from the beginning,” Pop said, trying to calm Melissa down.
“Me and Amanda was coming out of the supermarket minding our business,” she said, sobbing. “When out of nowhere some guy wearing a hockey mask came and shot Amanda four times like it was nothing,” Melissa said, her crying only getting worse.
“Then what happen?” Pop asked innocently.
“Then he threw her body in the trunk and put the gun to my head, and told me to get in the trunk with my sister's dead body,” Melissa said in tears.
“So what did you do?” Pop asked.
“What you think I did? I got in the mu'fuckin' trunk!” she said excitedly.
“That's crazy—if I find out who did this shit I'm definitely going to catch a case,” Pop said, talking with his hands. “That's some foul shit.”
“No baby, I don't want you getting in no trouble,” Melissa said, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
“Who the fuck would do some shit like that?” Pop asked, stroking the back of Melissa's head. “Well, you're safe now, you know I'm not going to let nothing happen to you,” he said, holding her in his arms.
“I love you, Pop. You're the only man I will ever love. Nobody could ever take your place,” Melissa whispered as she unbuckled Pop's belt. He wanted to tell Melissa what really happened but he knew he couldn't. The only thing the truth would do would leave Melissa with a broken heart.
Pop's thoughts were quickly interrupted when he felt Melissa's hand creep to his jeans and pull out his thickness. Her soft, wet lips made contact with his penis and made his toes curl instantly. He grabbed a handful of Melissa's hair as he began to stroke her mouth. After ten minutes of sucking, Melissa was ready for the dick. She quickly snatched her clothes off like a wild, caged animal.
Once Melissa got her pants off she violently pushed Pop on the bed and hopped on top of him.
“Tell me how bad you want this pussy,” she said, letting her titties hang directly in front of Pop's face.
“I'm about to tear you up,” he growled as he grabbed one of Melissa's pretty titties and placed it in his mouth like it was a pacifier. He then smoothly slid Melissa's thong over to the side and entered her sopping wet pussy. He made sure he cupped both of her ass cheeks so that they were spread apart as he help guide Melissa's nice-sized ass up and down his pole, nice and slow.
“Oh,
papi
,” Melissa moaned, loving every stroke. She opened her legs as far as they could so that she could feel every inch of Pop's dick. Her legs were so far spread that it looked like she was doing the split while still riding him.
“Oh, shit, I'm about to cum,” Pop moaned as he tried to hold back as long as he could. Melissa quickly hopped up and began sucking the shit out of Pop's dick until he filled her mouth with his fluids.
“Oh,” Pop moaned and groaned as Melissa continued to peck away at his dick.
“Who's that bitch?” Melissa said, smiling as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You that bitch, baby,” Pop said, out of breath, as he laid sprawled across the bed.
Chapter Fifteen
“Is that him right there?” Tito asked one of his flunkies as he pointed to a man standing on the corner.
“Yeah, that's him, the flunky answered surely.
Tito slowly slid out of the driver's seat of his Lexus, making his way over to the corner followed by his flunky.
“Yo, my man, ya name Carl?” Tito asked, approaching the man standing on the corner.
“Yeah, why, who wants to know?” Carl responded, looking Tito up and down.
“Yo, my man! Is this your block? I need to speak to the mu'fucka who's running this shit,” Tito stated harshly.
“You talking to him now,” Carl replied, not afraid to get ignorant if he had to.
“Listen, I hear your block is going some good numbers,” Tito said as he took a short pause before he continued. “Long story short, I need in.”
“Nigga, you must be crazy! This my shit!” Carl said, raising his voice.
“Listen, either you take my package or you can step the fuck off. Simple as that,” Tito said, sounding smooth.
“This is my block and I ain't about to start sharing it with nobody!” Carl said, standing his ground.
“Brother, either you take my package or I send my shooters up here every day and make this shit hot. Then you won't be getting no money. With me, at least you'll be getting forty percent and giving up sixty, so let me know how you wanna play it,” Tito said, slipping a blunt between his lips. Carl didn't respond as he weighed the options in his head. Tito took Carl's silence as acceptance. “That's what I thought. Carl, my man will be up here tomorrow with that package. Sixty-forty split.” Tito chuckled as he walked back to his Lexus.
Tito knew if he threatened Carl to make his block hot he would fold like a paper bag, plus Carl knew Tito wasn't bluffing. “This shit is too fuckin' easy, Tito said to himself as he headed to the Bronx to go pick up one of his girlfriends. Tito wasn't playing no games, if you were making money he was definitely coming to see you. His name really started buzzing after he shot this big-time drug dealer that wasn't willing to share his real estate. He was making more money than he ever imagined. Life couldn't get any better than it already was. Tito even went out and bought himself a big chain that had
Tito
spelled on it in diamonds, along with a diamond flooded bracelet with the pinky ring to match. He also went out and bought himself a brand-new cherryred convertible Porsche. Every other day Tito found himself getting pulled over by the cops due to him being so flashy, but he didn't care. That's just how Tito was; you could love it or hate it. Tito zoomed in and out of the highway lanes doing ninety in a fifty-five speed zone, when he heard his cell phone ringing.
“Yo, who this?” he asked.
“It's me, Fresh.”
“Oh, what's good, my nigga?” Tito asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Come to the warehouse, I need to talk to you,” Fresh stated, holding his cards to his chest and revealing nothing in his tone.
“A'ight I'll be there tomorrow,” Tito said nonchalantly.
“Nah, I need to see you right now, B,” Fresh said, slamming the phone down in Tito's ear.
“Bitch-ass nigga,” Tito mumbled as he closed his phone.
 
 
Tito parked his new Porsche in front of the warehouse. “What's good, you wanted to see me?” Tito asked, helping himself to a seat.
“What's really good with you, B?” Fresh asked in a firm tone.
“What you talking about?” Tito asked, cleaning his nails.
“I hear you in business for yourself now.” Fresh looked at Tito for a comment.
“Yeah, you know I had to step out, and spread my wings. We born to fly, you know?” Tito said in his best pimp voice.
“So who's promoting you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Who's supplying you?” Fresh growled, getting upset.
“Names aren't important, Tito said nonchalantly.
“It's like that now, Tito?” Fresh asked with ice in his voice.
“It's just like that, B, I'm supposed to just starve waiting for you? I don't think so, you feeding that nigga Pop more than you feeding me what kind of shit is that? That's some sucker shit, I'm the one who been holding you down for years not him.”
“Listen Tito it doesn't—” Fresh said.
“No, nigga, you listen,” Tito barked, cutting Fresh off. “I put in way more work than anybody on this team, and all you did was shit on me, who the fuck is Pop? Nobody!” Tito said, answering his own question. “Next time I see that nigga that's my word, I'ma pop that nigga.”
“Listen to me carefully, Tito. You are no longer welcome in this family. You ain't shit but a disloyal flunky,” Fresh said, staring Tito dead in his eyes. “I'm only going to tell you this one time: get your peoples off my corners or it's going to be a problem. What, you thought you was just gonna muscle your way on everybody's corners without me finding out? Those last three block you took over in the Bronx belong to me, and I'd appreciate it if you got your peoples off those three blocks before I do,” Fresh warned.
“No problem,” Tito responded drily. “Can I go now?”
“Get the fuck out of here, next time you don't get no pass. Rusty, show this mu'fucka to the door,” Fresh ordered.
“Not a problem,” Rusty stated as he escorted Tito to the exit.
“Don't touch me, mu'fucka, I know how to walk,” Tito jerked his arm from Rusty's grip. “Get the fuck off me.”
Once Tito made his exit Fresh started up again. “This mu'fucka got a lot of nerves,” he said out loud.
“If you want me to clip that nigga just say the word,” Rusty stated plainly.
“Nah, I got something even better for that clown,” Fresh stated flatly, leaning back in his chair.
 
 
“Yo, this nigga Fresh tried to get fly with me earlier,” Tito said heatedly, not liking how Fresh came at him.
“Word? What happened?” Bamboo asked.
“Nothing, he just mad ‘cause I'm out here getting paper like it's the eighties all over again, you dig,” Tito said, pouring himself a drink.
“So you gonna take care of him or do I need to send out my hit squad again?” Bamboo asked, knowing firsthand that Fresh was going to be hard to kill.
“Nah, I'll take care of him myself,” Tito responded quickly. “He ain't as strong as he used to be.”
“A'ight, once it's done I'll have twenty thousand waiting for you,” Bamboo told him.
“Now you speaking my language,” Tito said, finishing up his drink.
“I'll see you next week, my dude,” Tito said as he disappeared out the front door.

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