Blood, Sweat And Revenge

Chapter Thirteen

Divine

“No, bitch, you listen!” Tokyo yelled with her finger in Chakira, Pernel’s baby mama's, face. “How are you mad at me and I didn’t know about you? I’m about to be his wife!” Chakira yelled with the baby still in her arms. I stood in the middle so it wouldn’t get physical. “Bitch, he always with me so when do you ever see him?” Tokyo asked. “First of all, he works overnight, so I spend most of my days with him. Except for when he works overtime,” Chakira said, sounding confident. Tokyo and I both laughed on that one. “Oh, baby. Pernel ain’t had a job a day in his life.” “What?” Chakira asked. All of us were already short, but my heels made her seem so little to me. “When he says he’s at work, baby, he’s with me. And I’m sorry to ruin your happy little fantasy, but I wasn’t the one who had him in the closet. It was another bitch with another baby.” Tokyo hissed as she grabbed her purse. “Let’s go, cuzz.” “What about—” “Fuck Pernel. He has more than enough support. Let’s go.” We walked away and left Chakira there looking like a

goddamned idiot. “Damn, this shit so crazy, dawg,” I said as we waited for the elevator. “I’m so done.” When the elevator arrived, Slick and Tayla were in it. “I was just looking for y’all,” Slick said as he stepped to the side. Tayla kept her eyes on me. If it wasn’t for the drama that was already transpiring around me, I would have popped her dead in the eye for even looking at me. Didn’t nobody want Slick. “I don’t need that money anymore. Fuck that nigga. I’m outta here.” “Word? You good?” Slick asked. “I’m good. From here on out, I don’t know shit and I’m not a part of his healing process. His wife in there now.” “Wife?” Tayla asked. “Some bitch in there saying they about to be married. I’m out, though,” Tokyo said she grabbed my hand and led us on the elevator. Before Slick walked away, he stared me down until the door closed. I could hear Tayla yelling, “So you just gonna stare at this bitch while I’m right here!” “I never liked her,” Tokyo said as we stepped off the elevator. “Shit, I can’t tell. Friendly ass was sure talking to

her.” “She asked a question,” Tokyo said. “You ain’t have to respond. I don’t like the way that hoe looks at me.” I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I just want to go home.” “Bet. We got air conditioning today.” I had much pride with saying that. “That’s what I meant to ask. Where y’all hoes get some money from? I thought y’all were behind on hours?” she asked as we walked outside the slide doors and to the SUV. “I did some scam shit with one of my coworkers. We had to go to Houston to another store and do it,” I lied. “Ummm,” she said as she opened the door to the back seat and got in. I looked over at Malina knocked out ass. “Bitch, how you go to sleep that fast?” I asked, waking her up. “I’m tired. We been on the road,” she responded. I lightly tapped her to let her know that Tokyo was in the back seat and not to say too much. “Why she here?” Malina asked. “Bitch, you can ask me. ’Cause Pernel ass a dog and I am no longer concerned with his wellbeing.” “Shoulda been that way,” Malina said as she dozed back off.

*** After dropping Tokyo off, we went to take the rental back and caught an Uber home since we left my whip parked at our crib. As soon as we pulled up, I saw Bishop standing at the door waiting to kiss our ass for almost getting us killed. On the cool, I really wasn’t trying to hear it. Though we enjoyed our trip, I didn’t enjoy the part where I almost got my fucking head blown away because of this nigga and his lies. “What you want?” Malina asked him with an attitude as we walked up the stairs. Well, as she limped. She acted like she loved heels, but couldn’t walk in them for nothing. “I brought you two flowers,” he said, whipping two bouquets of roses from behind his back. We pushed past him and went inside. “What the fuck was that all about, Bishop?” I snapped the minute he shut the door behind him. “Sis, I knew Johan wouldn’t let Chola kill y’all. Him or his father. His mother was killed by their enemy, and she was the only one in their family who didn’t deal with drugs. She was innocent, so his father don’t play that shit, and he raised Johan that way. Chola feels like she shouldn’t spare a life ’cause them mothafuckas didn’t spare her mother’s life.” “Whatever. I should knock you off for that shit.” I balled my fist and punched him in the shoulder. “I’ll take that.”

“It’s not funny, Bishop. Chola was two seconds away from killing us,” Malina said before she disappeared into her room and shut the door behind her. “So what they say?” Bishop asked. “You have three weeks sharp to deliver the rest of the money or they’re coming for you and your family. Oh… and we have to drive it. They said you can’t send anyone else to them if the feds really onto you like that. Oh yeah… and it’s not $350,000 that you owe anymore. They added a late fee. So now it's $500,000.” “Good. That’s more than enough breathing room.” “One problem, though.” “What’s that?” “Me and Malina ain’t doing that shit no more.” “C’mon, sis. Why not?” “I like my life, nigga. The fuck?” “I know you do. Me too. That’s why I need you.” “I can’t help you.” “Sis!” “Sorry.” “So what? He said I can’t bring no more outsiders in.” “What that got to do with me?” “So, just fuck my life, huh?” “That’s what you said when you sent Malina and me on a dummy mission.”

“Sis, it’s not even like that. I knew deep down in my heart that nigga wasn’t ’bout to let Chola kill y’all. Why would I even send y’all if I didn’t have the money and I knew he was going to end up finding me and killing me anyway?” “That’s game. And I ain’t fucking with it no more. You lied once and you will lie again,” I said as I walked into the kitchen to prepare a sandwich. “Sis, what I gotta do to close this deal with you?” “What you mean?” “What’s the delivering fee? Johan’s father, Jinx, most likely added the late fee so I still have spending room too. He didn’t tax that much. So I have more to offer you this time.” “Well, my job fired us, so we need at least six months’ worth of rent.” “Word? Damn. I apologize, shawty.” “It’s all good. Just toss another $35,000 and we will be good.” He laughed. “Sis, I’m about to tell you some real shit. Any other nigga will take advantage of you right now, but I got love for ya’ so I won’t.” “What?” I looked in the fridge for a soda. “Give me a calculator,” he said, sitting at our small dinner table. When I found one, I took my meal and the calculator and sat across from him at our table. “How much gas money did it take for y’all to get there?”

“That SUV sucked up a lot of gas, so we had to fill the tank about ten times in all. About one hundred dollars each time. Gas is expensive the further you get that way.” “Okay, so about six hundred. Okay, so… not saying that you will get caught, but if you do, that’s a fed case bond and it will run you about five hundred thousand. But ten percent is the only percentage that will be paid, so that fifty thousand.” “What are you getting at?” I asked with a confused look. “Just chill. I got a point, I promise. Okay, and a good lawyer will cost you about two hundred thousand.” “Okay?” “You need to start charging accordingly. What we just added up was $250,600. Keep charging niggas thirty G’s and you will be stuck like chuck if shit pop off.” “So you want me to charge you that much?” I asked, raising my brow. “I’ma give you the game if you want it.” He paused and waited for a response. “I want it,” I responded. “For delivering money or anything in this business, people usually charge somewhere around five hundred G’s. It’s insurance. But if you wanna be successful at this, get a lil’ cheaper and you’ll win. It’s just like the drug game.”
“What? But that would be cheating ourselves,” Malina said as she came and sat at the table with us. Clearly she had been eavesdropping. “It’ll add up, but hear me out, though. That’s why real hustlas save for rainy days.” “So what should we charge?” I asked. “Since y’all just starting out and it’s two of y’all, I say seventy-five G’s. That’s about thirty-seven G’s a piece. But save sixty percent of that each time you do it. That’s the art of hustle. Save more than you spend, and that shit gon’ stack to the ceiling before you know it.” “Why since we starting out, we have to go lower than that five hundred G’s though?” Malina asked. “Ma, niggas ain’t gonna spend that much on two bitches they don’t know. Who’s to say y’all won’t run off with the cash and the fee money?” “Right. But if I wanted to become a road runner, how do I get customers? How do I know that they won’t have us deliver the money to a cop or someone who will rob us and kill us?” I asked. “It happens. That’s why it’s best to have some soldiers. Who the hardest out of y’all two?” he asked. “Divine. That’s a cold bitch,” Malina said while pointing at me. “Well, it’s simple. Never go nowhere without the muscle,” Bishop said while pulling out rolls of money that was strapped to him like a bulletproof vest. “That’s seventy-five G’s. From here on out, don’t ever go no lower than that again.”

Malina and I looked at the money. She smiled. I frowned. All I could think about was how Chola almost blew our heads off. “What’s wrong?” Malina asked “We need to go shopping,” I responded. “Hell yeah, for some new stiletto’s,” she said happily as she thumbed through the money. “That too.” “What did you have in mind?” Bishop asked. “We need to shop for some protection. Then the stilettos. As a matter of fact, that’s what we need to shop for tomorrow. Guns and stilettos.”