A Slum Love Crime. (A$AP Rocky Story)

Part Ventuno

“Are you illiterate n-gga? You can’t read between the lines.”

Music, bass, loud talking and footsteps. I kept my mouth shut. I kept my breathing to a minimum.

“In the bible it says, what goes around, comes around.”

I had been waiting for her for some time. I left right after Rakim and the boys were gone. The whole mob left, except for Dom. The guys told him he was too young for intense activity like what they were about to encounter. That was a plus for me, because it was good that he was here with me now. If he wasn’t, I probably wouldn’t have the courage to do what I was doing.

“Hommo shot me, three weeks later he got shot down. Now it's clear that I'm here, for a real reason…”

Music, bass…someone had probably turned up the volume. We were standing outside of a brick building. It beats me as to why my mother would be in Philly, but Dom assured me that she was here. So, instead of barging into a room full of thugs and gangsters, we waited right outside the building’s door. The setup was perfect. Dom was in front of me, keeping watch of who exited and entered the building. When he saw Momma, he would grab her and bring her to me. The alley between the house she was in and the house next to it was perfect for some interrogation.

“You don’t see her yet?” I whispered to Dom. He shook his head, but motioned for me to stay quiet. If Rocky found out what we were doing, he would be infuriated—only because he cared about us and knew the danger of what we were doing. Anybody could be in that house, even my father.

“…Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain't f-cking breathing.”

As the last line of 50 Cent’s ‘Many Men’ resonated in my ears, Dom suddenly jerked toward me, making me fall. He had my mother tightly in his arms, one of his hands held over her mouth to quiet her.

I stood on my feet and stared at her. It was scary and saddening to look at her; how skinny she’d gotten, how frail and brittle her hair looked. Everything about her was fragile. She was shivering too, and I knew it wasn’t because Dom scared her.

He took his hand off of her mouth and she started wiping her lips. Dom warned her to keep quiet, and told her that I could get killed if she screamed. Then, as if passing a microphone to me, he looked at me and then at Momma.

“Who are you people?” She stared wide-eyed at us. My eyes stung from tears.

“It’s me, Momma. I’m your daughter, Tre. That boy is my friend. He took me here so I could get the truth out of you. Who’s in there with you?” I asked. If I didn’t get straight to the questions, I would fall on my knees crying.

“Oh, my baby! It’s just a few of Steven’s friends in there. You know Steven, don’t you? The Candyman! Steven is The Candyman.” My mother spoke quickly.

“Okay, well where’s Steven?” I asked her.

“Tremaine, he talks about you all the time. He talks about you and your boyfriend, and how he doesn’t like that boyfriend of yours. He also says that he doesn’t believe that you’re his child. I always tell him he’s the father. He told me he’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Her last words gave me an idea, but I put it in the back of my brain as I tried to remember the questions I had for her.

“What about the money? Where’s Rakim’s money?” Dom asked roughly.

“I don’t know nothing about that, baby. I know he took it. But I don’t know what he did with it. The Candyman don’t tell me all the details.” Momma replied. Her nickname for him was sad. The ‘candy’ he was giving her was probably crack.