WILD THANGZ by Winston Chapman (An Essence Magazine National Best Seller)

Chapter 20

We spent $136 on a taxi ride to Brea's apartment that normally would've cost no more than $20.

The added expense was for safety. We made the taxi driver venture in all different directions in Atlanta, as we tried to ascertain whether or not we were being followed.

The taxi driver thought our behavior was strange, but didn't care, as we periodically paid him over the seat as the meter fee continuously got higher. The driver was fine with our erratic and peculiar behavior, as long as he knew that we weren't going to stiff him on the cab fee. Seeing as we were paying, as we drove, he made no issue of it.

After we were sure that we weren't being followed, we gave him the actual address of our destination and soon arrived at Brea's apartment.

We banged on the door several times, but there was no answer.

"Brea! Brea!" I spoke loudly while looking down the hall of her apartment complex to see if anyone was coming.

Trina had just pulled out her cell phone to call Brea, just as she was finally answering the door. We didn't want to call her at all from our cell phones, just in case, but while stranded in the hallway, we figured that we had no choice.

"WHAT IS UP?" Brea whined and squinted, clearly having been awakened from sound- sleeping.

"Gurrl, we gotta talk to you!" I said, as I pushed my way into the apartment, as I leaned back to take one last glance down the hallway. "After you dropped us off, there were these guys in our apartment with guns"

"Whaaaaaaatttt?!" Brea immediately woke-up.

"Your brother owes them some money or somethin' and they said they're gonna kill all of us unless they get $80,000 or their cocaine back," Trina jumped in.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Was it the Vinettis?" Brea asked.

"Yes. How did you know that? Who are they?" I inquired quickly. "Oh, shit! Oh, shit! What did they say?" Brea seriously questioned.

Brea's intensity served to make me more nervous because she didn't rattle easy and she looked scared.

"Brea! Who are the Vinettis?!" I re-asked my unanswered question.

"Oh shit! Oh, shit!" she repeated as she walked around in a circle, while running her hand through hair. "The Vinettis are this crime family up in New York that my brother had been fuckin' with. He was trying to step-up his game in the drug business to make more money by dealing direct, with some of the suppliers. What did they say?"

"They said your brother was skimmin' on them and the money that he got caught with and the drugs don't add up. So, they think your brother owes them $80,000," Trina explained.

"Does your brother still have the money somewhere, so that we can pay them?" I asked.

"I don't know! I don't know shit about what he was doing! Oh, shit!" Brea claimed. "See, I told my brother not to fuck with the Vinettis," she whined to herself.

"Brea, I don't give a fuck about that! They said they were gonna kill me and my parents if they don't get their money. They put a fuckin' gun to my head! Can you call them and tell 'em that I ain't involved, or find out where the money is, or something? Shit!" Trina shed all evidence of her normally meek demeanor.

"Yeah," I added.

"I don't know them. I just know of them," she responded disappointingly.

"Well, can you call your brother or something? They said that they're gonna kill us in 10- days if they don't get their money or the cocaine back. Shit! Do something! This shit don't involve me or Trina, that's your brother, but now they got our parents address and shit!" I raised my voice at Brea.