Money Over Everything

C.R.E.A.M

Moette

I woke the next morning with damp dollar bills stuck to me, falling onto my lap when I yawned. Damaris was laying next to me, talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones. She spoke louder when she saw I was awake, the identity of the person revealed a few sentences later.

"I'm fine, baby. A little shook up after everything that happened last night, but fine. The back of my head is a little sore, but I'll be good by tomorrow, I'm sure of it. Please tell me you called the police like I told you to, D'Angelo...What do you mean this ain't none of their business? What if whoever held us up comes back...I guess we'll have to make plans to see each other somewhere else because I'm not putting my life on the line like that again."

The conversation went on for a few more minutes, with Damaris sounding closer and closer to tears. Her throat was thick with emotion when she finally hung up, checking to make sure the call was disconnect before cracking up.

"By the time I'm done with his ass, I'll have at least ten stacks for my pain and suffering. This nigga already knows that he better come correct when begging for my forgiveness," she said, sitting up higher in bed. "Apparently, the drug money itself ain't the only reason he doesn't want to go to the police about the robbery. He's afraid that if the police get involved, they'll want to speak to me and his wife will find out."

"Damn, Damaris, you picked the perfect nigga to rob—one that has too much to lose. Gimme some," I said, holding my hand up for a high five.

She slapped my hand, the sound reverberating throughout the room. I checked my own phone for messages. Two missed calls from Swan last night around the time of the robbery. We had spent so much time celebrating, I forgot all about my phone once I got home, tossing it on my dresser the moment I was alone. I would call him back when I had a good enough excuse.

"I wish we ain't have to lay low and not spend our money," Damaris said, interrupting my thoughts. "My wardrobe is in desperate need of an upgrade. I'm long overdue for a vacation, too. Somewhere nice, like the Bahamas or Saint Tropez. Ugh, I wish I could pack up and go right now, but D'Angelo's ass would catch on real quick. I thought the hardest part of doing this heist would be the actual heist. It's actually not being able to ball out and buy everything in sight."

"Damn straight. Every robber caught has one thing in common: spending their money on bullshit and being noticed by the cops. We play it smart and a few months later we'll be able to do some shopping during the holiday season like everybody else. We can even plan a family vacation," I said, picking up my phone and contemplating what I would say to Swan.

Damaris shook her head. "You really got it bad over that nigga, don't you?"

"Of course not," I said, hoping my lie was somewhat convincing. "I met him like a week ago. I'm interested, but not desperate."

"If you say so," Damaris sung, picking up a handful of money and tossing it in the air. "Since we can't do any big baller activities, how about we go out for dinner tonight? Maybe at that restaurant Swan's sister owns. Darion's got the money to go to culinary school so maybe he could talk to her, Poochie has enough cash to keep her quiet for the next couple months, you get to see your boo—"

"And what about you?" I asked suspiciously; Damaris was never known for being thoughtful unless she benefitted from it in some way. "You don't even like Swan."

"Me? I get to spend some damn money on a cute outfit for the occasion," Damaris giggled, sliding out of bed and grabbing her stuff. "Shit, you know I'll use any reason to drop a couple stacks. Call Juju and let's all get to Fifth Avenue."