26

Contacting Big D had almost been too easy. I made calls brandishing Micky's name like it was a password and it worked every time. When we arrived, I expected some bullshit to happen. Maybe some type of altercation. We were in brick city, also known as the projects. However, we received a very warm welcome. Well, as warm as it could be with four men carrying AR15 rifles and bandanas tied around their faces could be. They didn't speak but like to motion with their guns which way we needed to go.

Dirty had told me I would be good here, and I believed him. There were kids everywhere. Also, adults, but mostly kids. Someone was barbecuing an alligator while, others looked on in amazement. A few guys were playing basketball, and some girls were monitoring the small kids at the playground. It looked to be a tightknit community, but we knew better. They all took notice of our unfamiliar faces, wondering who we were. Especially me, since I was the only female in our group.

We arrived at an apartment building in the new houses. The city was slowly tearing down the jets and building these new nice apartments in their place. They were beautiful. Tall ceilings, large rooms, and private balconies.

However, they just moved the same people into these new apartments, allowing them to have a better home, but keeping them in the same neighborhood. I vaguely remember coming here when I was younger. My mom used to get her hair done by someone who lived in these apartments. They looked the same as they did now, minus the new houses.

Inside the apartment, there was leather everywhere. Definitely a man's apartment, not a soft color in sight. We were led to a spacious kitchen. This place was pristine: granite countertops, stainless steel appliances everywhere. In the middle of the kitchen at an island countertop, a man was chopping bell peppers and onions. He seemed focused and didn't look up when we entered. So I sized him up.

He was a very large man. Christian was six-two, so this guy had to be about six-five as he towered over Christian. It was also apparent he didn't miss a meal. He was healthy, maybe two-sixty or two-eighty. He had seven thick braids going to the back and even in his home he had on shades. He was draped in jewelry, three chains around his neck, a Rolex on his wrist, and some bracelets. He also had rings on most of the fingers. He smelled like money.

Finally, he stopped chopping, and his eyes landed on me. The arm Christian had around me tightened, and Big D looked at him. He visibly looked around us to Montel, who smiled and waved. He then said, "Welcome. Any friend of Micks is a friend of mine. Who am I doing business with today?"

His voice was low and gruff, and when he talked, the golds and diamonds in his mouth flashed for just a second. He looked at Christian when he asked who he was doing business with. Soon Christian moved to stand behind me and the eyes behind the shades turned to me.

"So, little Anna, you lied to Mick?" he asked.

I pushed down that throat, clogging guilt. I didn't think he would ask too many questions. I just wanted to leave. But here he is cooking and shit and wanting to talk. So I found my voice after just a brief hesitation. "He doesn't know," I answered, looking straight into his eyes. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

He huffed and blew out a breath. "Your old man and me, we go back a long way. We are friends and I don't have many of them. However, I won't tell unless he asks. Please take a seat. Your guard dog can relax." He smirked at Christian.

I took a seat on the stool he showed. It was right across from where he stood. He took his glasses off and smiled at me. His eyes were deep and penetrating. I could see why so many people would follow him. He was smooth and had class. "I'm sure you guessed your old man called me today and told me you'd be coming by. So I got something ready for you. I wanted to talk to you first. I have questions and I expect honest answers."

I looked back at Christian to make sure he was still there and he was right behind my chair, close enough to touch. Montel stayed in the doorway. I felt safe with them, but Big D was a little intimidating and I was on his turf. "Shoot." I said, my voice surprisingly even.

"What are you doing? I heard nothing but good things about you from Micky. He says you're smart. He told me you go to a private school. You are the kid he is always bragging about. You could do so much better than this. You could work for me, and I'd pay you well. What you're trying to do is dangerous and, frankly, stupid." Big D was moving his hands back and forth while he spoke. He was also sounding like a dad, something I didn't need right now.

I sat up straighter, "With all due respect, sir, I don't need a lecture. I need a supplier that won't cross me." I said.

"So, you have been crossed before?" he asked, his eyes shined with interest.

"Yes," I said, deciding to tell him the truth. "Recently I have gained a lot of problems. One of them being, my guys were robbed and one was shot making an exchange. I owe someone money and we intend to use what you have to pay the debt and hopefully not screw up our lives. And, you are wrong. I don't get my hands dirty. I have goons for things like that."

I hoped I hadn't overstepped. Big D didn't look mad. His eyes shined with respect. Then he looked amused. His amusement was confirmed when he laughed. The fat fucker.

"You have goons?" he said around his laugh. "You make it sound like you are the head of a mafia."

"No." Montel said, catching everyone off guard. "We aint no mafia, we're a family."

That got him to stop laughing. "You're serious?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "A family trying to protect ourselves. Plus, a girl's got to eat."

"I hate to break it to you, princess, but you can't be in this business and not get your hands dirty. I can see it in your eyes you already have, even if the dirt was carried out by one of your goons." Big D said, lifting a duffle bag onto the table from the floor. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a brick of what looked like tar.

"What you have here is some of the best china in the city," he said, tearing into the plastic. "You want to try it?"

"Hell naw," Christian said, wrapping an arm around my chest like I was going to go for it.

"You never know," Big D said. "Some people like to test to make sure it's real. The first rule of selling any drug is to not get high on your own supply. This shit will fuck you up, numb you up and have you acting up. Never try it, just sell it," he said.

"How?" I asked, motioning to the black substance.

In the next fifteen minutes, I got a crash course in cutting and selling this drug. It was simple, and I got a lesson from the self proclaimed master. It was like watching a science experiment, the result a brown substance that resembled sand.

When I asked about the payment, he refused. I was shocked, but he explained he owed Micky and this would clear the debt. I was still hesitating, but when it became obvious, he wouldn't change his mind, I accepted.

"I appreciate it," I said, shaking his hand. When I pulled away, he held on.

"If you need any help with your other problem, let me know. I have goons too," he said and released my hand.

I nodded once. I knew he had goons, like I knew they carried AR15s. However, I would have to be desperate to take him up on that offer. I got the drugs free as a favor for Micky. There would be nothing else free from this man.