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  “Man, I know. Who do you got meeting us here again?”

  “That nigga A.J., and Ro is going to come out here too.”

  Eron smacked his lips. He couldn’t stand that nigga A.J. He was the loud type who liked to look and act like he was running shit.

  “I know, but the nigga does his thang with that weed shit. Plus, he doesn’t mind taking road trips. We kind of need dude,” Jamal declared, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

  “Bro, I know you ain’t just say that we need that nigga! Nah, you ain’t say no fuck shit like that. What the fuck? We found that nigga, so we’ll find another one.”

  Jamal just shook his head as they sat in front of the house. “Would you stop fucking yelling at me, nigga? Now you know that is not how I meant it. Right now we got this nigga where we want him. We are going to have to let this nigga hang himself.” It wasn’t that Jamal liked A.J. He just tolerated him. Jamal figured it was smart to play a nigga like A.J. close.

  Niggas like A.J. were not permanent fixtures in this game. He just worked for the moment. At this point, Jamal felt that it was best to keep their enemies close. He knew just like Eron knew that A.J. liked to play big-boy games, but he was a bottom feeder. Mal and Eron were on a realistic level. No, they weren’t in the game to be millionaires. They wanted to mine the game for all they could with all wins and no losses. A.J., on the other hand, didn’t have the qualities that it took for a person to lead. He was the type who saw the gold at the end of the rainbow but didn’t want to take the necessary steps to get it. Like when people saw somebody living their best life on Instagram, but didn’t see what it took for them to get to the money. You didn’t see the blood, sweat, and tears that were put in. He was that guy. He wanted the aftermath of hustling.

  “Yeah, all right. Let’s get this over with,” Eron said angrily as they hopped out of the car.

  As the duo made their way on the porch, Jomo came out and greeted them in his white lab coat. He was serious about this shit. “What up, doe boys?” Jomo’s accent was still strong as ever.

  Eron and Mal laughed. They always did when Jomo tried to sound like a Detroiter.

  “Fuck ya fuckin’ bumbaclots!” Jomo smirked. “Come on so I can show you fucks what’s ready to be distributed.” Jomo led them into Eron’s grow house. The house looked really homey. It even looked lived in. Eron and Jamal watched as Jomo put the code into the keypad to the steel door. The three of them were the only ones with the code. Eron changed the code as often as every week so that he would know exactly who was in the house.

  The basement was huge. Jomo had the magic touch. He was a chemist. He knew what to add to make the Kush what the streets wanted. In Detroit everybody smoked weed. The Kush man usually smoked weed. Kids smoked weed. Mothers smoked weed with their kids. Nobody wanted bamma-ass weed though. Reggies was a no-no. They paid top dollar for good, grade A Kush. That’s what Jomo was able to whip up.

  “See, this side of the room over here is ready for distribution. I know y’all don’t care to hear the technical part, so I won’t go there. I’ll have to come back probably in two weeks to check on the development of the rest of the marijuana. And if you look over here, I started some plants to replace the bunch that’s being bagged up today.”

  “Okay cool,” Eron said. He understood the weed-growing process was a tedious process. This is why they didn’t care to learn to grow the weed themselves. Jamal thought it would be smart for both him and Eron to get their weed cards. This put them at an advantage, because if they were ever stopped by the police and by chance had some weed on them, then they had papers for it. They vowed to never have more than the allowed amount on the card on them. You had to be smart about this street shit.

  Knock. Knock.

  Eron turned around, pushing the code to let A.J. and Ro in the room.

  “Ol’ security-guard-ass nigga!” Jamal joked.

  “So what, nigga? We can’t afford to lose in this game. Rather be safe than sorry. We ain’t even hittin’ no real money for real.”

  Jamal opened up the door and immediately knew that Eron was going to be pissed when he saw the fuck shit A.J. was wearing.

  “What up, Mal?” Ro said, shaking his head knowingly.

  “Dog, what the fuck you got on?” Eron asked A.J.

  “What you mean? You always are fucking with me, dog. Why though?”

  “’Cause you always looking like a ol’ Rico-ass, Nicky Barnes–ass nigga. All I’ma say is nobody bet’ not run up in my shit, because you got arrows, pointers, and signs over your mutherfucking head saying drug dealer! Don’t come back to work dressed like a clown. Ol’ Ronald McDonald–ass nigga. Come on, Ro, let’s get this shit done.”

  Eron’s rant left A.J. looking dumb just as it always did.

  “All right, Jomo, thanks as always.”

  “All right, bruh!”

  Eron and Ro headed toward the basement. “Oh, my bad! See ya, bro. Hit me up.”

  “Fasho, bro. I’ma lock up. Jomo, you can just follow me around there since you ain’t got to stay too long.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Look like we done, boss man,” Ro announced as he weighed and wrapped up his last pound of weed.

  “Bro, don’t hit me with that ‘boss man’ shit!” Eron laughed. No matter what Eron said, Ro always called him boss man.

  “Dog, you are the boss to me. Well, you and Jamal are the boss, collectively. I understand that in order for a nigga to be a chief he got to be an Indian first.”

  Eron couldn’t do shit but accept that shit. Real niggas understood that there was a process when it came to leadership. Ro knew that it was best to let somebody lay the blueprint and use that as a guide.

  “Ro, you are definitely one of the real ones. That shit is going to take you far.”

  “Fa real! All right, boss man. I’ll text you once I make it to put this shit up.”

  “All right, be safe.” Eron pulled off, tired as fuck. He turned on some of T.I.’s Urban Legend album and made his way across town to his home.

  Eron sighed. He didn’t feel like arguing with Aaliyah. Let me call her ass and test the waters. “What up, doe?”

  “What up?” Aaliyah greeted Eron, rolling her eyes.

  “What are you doing still up?”

  “Nothing.”

  Yup, she still mad! “Yeah, all right, dog. I’ll be there.”

  “When will you be here?”

  “When I get there. That’s when I’ll be there,” Eron snapped, throwing his phone in the cup holder as he came off the freeway heading toward Jessica’s house.

  Eron stuck his key in the door. Jessica lay on the couch in a robe, looking at him. Jessica was surprised. “Girl must’ve made you mad, huh?”

  “Dog, shut the fuck up. All you do is run ya dick sucker. Come put this in your mouth,” Eron demanded, unzipping his pants.

  Jessica just opened her mouth wide. This was all it took for him to get her, very minimal talking. Eron didn’t even have to step out of his Mike’s. Jessica went to work. She would have him out in fifteen minutes.

  “Uh. Uh. Uh, shit!”

  Jessica swallowed all his seeds. Eron wiped his dick off. He immediately felt like shit. Why the fuck did I do this dumb shit?

  Eron put his dick up, walking out the door.

  “So you just are going to leave like that? That’s how you are going to do me?”

  Eron never answered. He never even acknowledged that Jessica said anything.

  Eron drove up his street, thinking about the war that was awaiting his arrival. He took his time getting out of the car. He took a deep breath before sticking his key in the door.

  Man, I don’t feel like this shit.

  Eron exhaled, opening the door. The sight before him was the sexiest shit he’d ever seen. He stood in the doorway, taken aback by the sight before his eyes. Aaliyah stood at the stove with her back to him. She wore a white beater and bright pink boy shorts. He was confused because most of her ass was exposed.
Aaliyah abruptly turned around with a plate in each of her hands. She made T-bone steaks, smothered potatoes, and corn. It was way too late to be eating, but her man came in late, and she wanted to make sure she fed him even though he pissed her off. He felt worse than he ever felt.

  Oh, well it’s over. She won’t find out.

  Eron didn’t even realize that he was hungry until his stomach growled. His nostrils finally paid attention to the aroma.

  “Are you going to stand there staring all day or eat?”

  Eron chuckled, “I think I’m going to do both.” The couple sat and ate in a comfortable silence until both of their plates were cleaned.

  “Damn, baby, that was good as fuck.”

  “Thanks.”

  Eron knew from her tone that shit wasn’t sweet. But he didn’t feel like getting into that shit tonight. Eron just wanted to shower, fuck his bitch, and sleep comfortably.

  “Come on, let’s go to bed,” Eron demanded, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and leading her to their master bedroom. It was definitely his favorite part of the whole house.

  Aaliyah was a weirdo. She had a thing for gray. The walls showed that with dark gray paint with a lighter shade of gray pinstripes. On the far wall sat their California king–sized bed with a wooden headboard and footboard. The centers of both the footboard and headboard were made of soft cloth with different shades of gray. In front of the bed sat a black leather couch with gray accent pillows. On the wall in front of the couch was where a seventy-inch Vizio smart TV rested.

  Aaliyah went straight for the bed where she lay watching Eron relieve himself of his clothes.

  “Did you already take your shower?”

  “Yeah. Well nah, I took a bath.”

  Eron didn’t say anything else as he headed in the direction of the master bathroom. The master bathroom held double sinks, a Jacuzzi tub, and a separate space for the toilet and shower. Eron stepped into the shower and turned on the overhead. He loved the way the water beat against his body, washing away the filth of the day. Eron lived a hectic, busy lifestyle. Sometimes the shower was the only peace of mind he was able to get. Eron used the shower to wash away the stress of the day. He stepped out of the shower, drying off and dropping the towel as he headed straight to the bed.

  Aaliyah lay in the bed on top of the covers with socks on her feet. Eron mean mugged Aaliyah as he stood over her in the bed.

  “What are you staring at me like that for?” Aaliyah wondered with her face all balled up.

  Eron didn’t answer the question. He just walked to the part of the bed where her feet lay and snatched the socks off her feet.

  Aaliyah giggled. “You are a fucking creep!”

  “You need to stop wearing socks in my mutherfucking bed.”

  “I wear whatever I want to in my bed.”

  Eron took each foot in each hand, and he began rubbing them, going all the way up to the soft spot on her hip that she liked so much.

  “Ssss.”

  He followed the touch on her hip with light, wet kisses as he pulled her panties to the side. Aaliyah held some of the best pussy he ever tasted. It always smelled fresh, and the way Aaliyah’s pussy leaked when she was wet was always making his mouth water. He took his tongue, and in one long stroke, he licked from the bottom to the top of her pussy.

  “Uhhhh.” Eron felt Aaliyah’s body shudder. Eron loved that, regardless of how angry Aaliyah was with him, her body always betrayed her, giving in to him. That was the type of shit that made his dick even harder.

  Eron went in for the kill. He put Aaliyah out of her misery when he latched on to her juicy clit. He softly began to circle her clit, making sure that his mouth was pouring with spit. Aaliyah told him a long time ago that the wetter the mouth, the better the head. No woman wanted a stiff-ass dry tongue. That was how he ended the night. If Aaliyah was pleased, then he felt that his job was complete. Eron lay at Aaliyah’s waist, and they both slept like babies.

  * * *

  “Wait. Pause,” the girl Tineya asked unbelievably. “So you knew about him cheating?”

  “Not initially. No, I didn’t. The girl told me of course. Then his ass came clean. If you want to call it that. We ‘broke up’ for a short while. In that time we became friends, and honesty came with that. The nigga was brutally honest. He exposed me to a lot of shit that he probably shouldn’t have. We sort of began confiding in each other.”

  “Ohhh. Okay. Makes sense.”

  “Okay, go ahead. Finish. This is getting good,” a seemingly quiet girl said.

  Everybody laughed. It made me laugh and feel confident in telling my story. I continued.

  * * *

  Aaliyah woke up the next morning in an exceptional mood. She glanced around their room and ended the gaze on Eron. Aaliyah knew that they were not living the best, but they were not living the worst either. Eron was far from perfect, but he was definitely worth the headache. Aaliyah was a hood chick, coming from one the roughest parts of the city, yet she was graduating from college the next day. At the present moment, she just felt so blessed. Aaliyah had to say a prayer as she pulled Eron closer.

  “Dear God, I come to you as humbly as I know how. I just want to say thank you for everything that you do and don’t do for me, for us. I pray that you continue to give us the strength to know that we are not fighting our battles and demons alone. I pray for the safety of Eron, Jamal, and myself. Amen.”

  Aaliyah looked at Eron. He was still knocked out. She was actually surprised that he was still in bed. Aaliyah began to tickle Eron’s neck and place kisses all over his face.

  “Dog! Get that fucking dragon breath the fuck away from me!” Eron said, full of laughter.

  “Ohhh, fuck you! Get up! We have to get the graduate ready!”

  “Awww shit nah. My bitch is graduating tomorrow!”

  Aaliyah went crazy with giggles. “Fuck you! I’m going to get in the shower.”

  “I’m coming too!” Together Eron and Aaliyah took a quick shower. Just as they were getting out of the shower, Eron’s phone was ringing.

  “What up, bro? Everything go smooth?” Eron asked, referring to the packaging at his grow house.

  “Yeah, bro, shit went real well. But what y’all got up though?”

  Eron thought for a second. “Shit, I don’t know.” He looked at Aaliyah. “Aye, where are we going?”

  “The first stop will be the mall.”

  “We are going to Somerset. I guess she is going to use this graduation as an excuse to spend my money.”

  Jamal chuckled, “All right, bro, in a minute.”

  Aaliyah was already dressed in her colorful summer dress with silver Gucci sandals. She accessorized the outfit using silver diamond studs and a diamond cross. Eron finally had the chance to begin to get dressed.

  I don’t feel like putting on no clothes.

  Eron slipped on a T-shirt and basketball shorts, and he stepped into some cool gray elevens. “You ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  The duo headed to the truck to make the trip to the Somerset mall. The Somerset mall was located on the outskirts of the city. It was a huge mall with a huge escalator in the middle connecting two sides. The side that held Macy’s was what black people considered “the poor side,” and the side that held the Gucci and Louie stores was considered “the rich side.”

  Eron and Aaliyah pulled into the Saks Fifth Avenue entrance since it was always easier to find somewhere to park.

  “Oh, I was about to say call Mal, but I see his car.”

  “He got here quick. Well, ain’t no telling where he was at though.”

  Aaliyah and Eron walked into the mall right at the men’s shoe department. They could shop apart, but they both liked the way the other one dressed. Eron already liked fashion, but Aaliyah heightened the addiction. Don’t get it twisted though. He wasn’t with European-cut jeans at all. If the jeans had skinny anything in the name, he wouldn’t do them. He was a hood nigga to the core and labels would never change that
. Eron loved that Aaliyah could and would rock anything from cheap to expensive. Labels didn’t make her. She made the labels. Aaliyah picked up some red Aldani Bally high-top sneakers.

  “Damn, Liyah! These muthafuckas cold as fuck.”

  “Sir, did you need to see a size?”

  “Yes, sir, you’re right on time. Can I have these in a 12D?”

  The man hurried to the back to check for Eron’s size while they sat and discussed what Aaliyah would wear.

  “I think I want to do your color. I can make my shoes my pop color. Shit, I don’t know.”

  The man brought the shoes out to Eron. “Did you need to try them on?”

  “No, sir, you can just ring them up.”

  The salesman rang them up, and they preceded to the women’s shoe department. Aaliyah immediately spotted some multicolor peep-toe Yves Saint Laurent heels. Eron made the purchase, and they were on their way out into the mall.

  “So what it feel like? I mean you’re about to be a college graduate,” Eron said as they walked through, smiling. He was really proud of her accomplishing a goal that she set for herself.

  Aaliyah smiled. “I don’t think it’s really set in just yet. I’ll probably cry tomorrow though. People’s entire family will be there supporting them. I don’t have a single relative who fucks with me. Hell, I don’t even have friends. My only two friends are my boyfriend and his best friend. I mean, I ain’t tripping off no bitches, but shit, it would be nice to have a female perspective. I operate and move just like a nigga, ’cause that’s all I had was niggas teaching me.”

  By this time Eron was in full-blown laughter. “Dog, shut the fuck up. You are not a nigga, and you don’t act like one. Fuck yo’ family. They’re the ones missing out. You got a hell of a support system in me, my mama, Mal, his mama, and even Big E from behind thick-ass prison walls and barbed-wire fences. Aye, blood doesn’t make you family, but loyalty does. Don’t forget that shit. Now you about to graduate in less than twenty-four hours, and you acting like a bitch.”

  Aaliyah popped him upside his head as they were walking into the Louis Vuitton store.