Saints & Sinners

1.

1.

Santana.

"When are you coming over?" Ay'ana asked through the phone as I sighed out. "When I'm finished. Don't try to give me a time, I'll be there when I get there. Just have that ass ready." I said as I put a new stack through the money counter.

I barely heard what she said, as I hung up, and focused as another $10,000 quickly counted out. "Who was that?" Mario asked as I rolled my eyes. "Ay'ana, who else." I said as he shook his head. "I don't even know why you fuck with that broad. She ain't about shit. You need to settle down." He said and I shook my head again.

"Nah, not yet, but if I did, it definitely wouldn't be with her." I said shaking the thought out of my head. "Nigga you're almost 30, you going to fuck around and wait till all the good ones are gone." He said, and I just looked at him. "My nigga you're 32, with a stable of hoes. What are you even talking about?" I asked and he shrugged. "You ain't me, Cuh. This the life I want to live. You the type that need a wife at home with some kids running around or something." He said making me frown my face.

"I'm good on that." I said trying not to think about it. With the lifestyle I lead, there wasn't any room for a family. I was 29 going on 30, and one of the highest ranking 60s, on the block. My name is Santana, but the streets only know me as Saint, though I was far from it. Ruthless, cold, and soulless have all been words associated with my name. I made a name for myself as a younging on the block, and earned my nick name as a true product of the City of Angels.

There was nothing nice or easy about the Los Angeles, and especially not Crenshaw. The glimmering lights pulled you in, and left nothing of you once it finished. Many had said that I was the same. I had a clean facade, that would never make a motherfucker think the devil was behind my smile, that the gates of hell flashed through my eyes, or that the sweetest lies left my lips. I could sell salt to a slug, water to a whale, and death to the reaper himself.

I had to get it however I took it, and to get where I am, I took more than my fair share. I was beyond the petty street corner hustling, and I had elevated my game beyond selling drugs. For the past few years I had been making trips to and from Mexico bringing in hundreds of thousands of guns. That's where the real money was.

From your regular Saturday night special to an automatic M249. If you wanted it I had it, and if you bought it 95% of the time it came from me. I set my little homies up successfully, putting all the Rolling 60s ahead of the curve. Since we stayed away from the drug business we were making money hand over fist with no competition.

We had beef with a few other nearby sets, but no one was going to fuck with us. We were connected beyond the hood, and if they wanted my head that bad, there was a whole hell of a lot to get through before a mother fucker could even reached me.

With everything I had going on the last thing I needed was to be tied down to some bitch. Ay'ana was already a lot to deal with and all she was, was a broad that I smashed when I felt like it. She was bad as hell no lie, and she wanted the position as my woman, but she did way too much.

She was way too easy, a few words and a couple dollars could make her move on a whim, plus she was getting way too attached. I had already told her the situation was what it was with us, nothing more and nothing less, but she still kept at it.

She was starting to do the most by telling people around the hood I was her man, and I recently found out she was posting me on her social media. That was one thing I definitely didn't do, and it had me looking at her sideways.

I only kept one or two broads around at a time, but I knew soon she was going to have to get dropped. Again, I had no time for the bullshit that came along with having a female long term. If it wasn't my mama or nana I was cool on it.