Author's note: This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived, it is done so on he basis that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive.
**I suggest you read previous chapters if you are not familiar with the storyline.
Chap. 1
"It's better to look ahead and prepare than to look back and regret"
-Jackie Joyner-Kersee
Hakim's mind, over the last few weeks, had been focused on revenge on the deceitful motherfucker who had helped to put him in jail for four years. Four years he could have spent in college readying himself to play professional football and more importantly, getting a degree. He had wanted to accomplish that goal for his mother. She had always stressed education to him and his younger brother. He had planned on rescuing his mother from the inner city ('hood) and purchasing his mother a brand new home in a nice suburb. He had had many scholarship offers to play football from the top schools in the nation. He was All-State and regarded nationally as one of the top wide receivers coming out of high school. At the time, he had thought his future was secure. But as we all know, ain't shit guaranteed in this world for anybody...especially Black men! He had spent four years locked up for some shit he had not done! Set up by two racist motherfuckers, Flip and his father, who had connections, then sent off to prison to be treated like a nigger on a plantation by more racist white men! But he had come out stronger, more aware of the reality that Amerika represented for him and other Black men like him. The chasm of meaningful opportunities that seemed to exist between Black men and just about everybody else. When the guards acted like the racists motherfuckers they were, he had learned the art of THE SLOW FUCK. The theory was to take your time setting a person up. Smile in his face for a month before one day suddenly knocking his fronts out as he's sitting on the toilet taking a shit!
Hakim had been tempted many times over the last few weeks to run down to the law firm where Dominique and Flip Saunders worked. He daydreamed that he would walk in, pull out his 9-millimeter, and shoot the snake motherfucker between his eyes. But, he realized that he would have to take his time and let the plan come to him. He made the decision that he would spend at least an hour or two each day gathering more information on Flip's life and his family. What was he into now? If Flip could be counted on to be Flip, he was into something he shouldn't have been...something illegal. Since Dominique worked with the shithead, she would definitely be of some help to him. The fact that Flip had propositioned her worked in Hakim's favor. Yeah, THE SLOW FUCK was going to be a headbanger!
Too many times he had seen young, Black men rush off reacting hastily. Only to get themselves into shit they could not/would not have been prepared for. 'Six-feet dirt naps' types of shit! Too many of them were so filled with fear that they didn't measure up to some convoluted stereotype of what it was to 'keep it real', that they were killing and being killed at alarming rates 'keeping it real'...literally and figuratively.
Chap. 2
"Never let work drive you, master it and keep in complete control"
-Booker T. Washington, 1932
Hakim was still rolling with Tony. Still making deliveries. Still stacking dough. Working for Tony had taught Hakim a lot in the few months since they had hooked up. Tony was a smart motherfucker who it seemed possessed the tightest connections in the city. Everybody wanted to get down with him and get money but Tony was selective. He had told Hakim one day while riding through the north side of the city in his black Range Rover that there was no need to go after all buyers. It was a seller's market. WHY take risks fucking with peeps that shopped around for the best price on coke? He considered people like that to be unnecessary threats. That was because they would inevitably end up going shopping once again and have information about you and your organization to spread to your competition. It was best to keep a tight yet lucrative circle of hustlers who you dealt with on a consistent basis. They would be less tempted to go shopping because of the consistency of the supplier. Plus, when somebody got popped, you knew who it was and what he or she could possibly know about you. With 'shoppers/drifters', you never saw it coming when 'po-po' was at the front door threatening to come up in your spot and rip your shit to shreds because of information from said 'shopper'.
Hakim sat and soaked up all the knowledge/information he could absorb from the TOP DOG in the game. He had no choice but to sit and learn. Information like this did not come everyday. At the same time, Hakim had thought that if he was going to be the best at something, it damn sure couldn't be the drug game...and only the drug game! He needed options. Viable ones. He could not/would not allow himself the illusion that the drug game was his present and future. The drug game was a short and violent life. Fuck that fantasy shit they writing in Hollywood! In the drug game success was brief, danger was always an eye blink away, and trust was no longer part of your vocabulary. You really couldn't enjoy the 'success' (whatever the fuck that's supposed to be in the underworld) because you were always looking over your shoulder waiting for it all to be taken away. Sorta like the life that crack (selling or using) takes away from its partakers. Double-edged sword if EVER there was one! Motherfuckers were running around like the drug game offered some kind of 401k plan or something! The point was to get the money and run to something positive. A means to an end...not the whole fucking enchilada!
As he made runs all over the city to different neighborhoods delivering coke, Hakim began to take notice of all the young, Black and unemployed brothers standing on street corners. They were wasting their lives away in bars and the streets. Having heard from their parents, relatives, friends of the family and every other poor Black that the White world was a scary, fucked up place to be, these young warriors had given in before they were even eligible to enter the foray! What was weird was that the only contact these Brothers ever had was with law enforcement or some agency of law enforcement or social services! That's part of the reason their view of the world was so fucked up! Add the deliberately criminal education that the local public schools offered and you had a recipe for disaster.
Hakim had made up his mind years ago while he was in jail that he would try his hardest, sacrifice whatever he had to, so that he would be able to do what he wanted in life without becoming slave-minded like the majority of young Brothers in the inner city. Lost without a cause to identify with. Disconnected from their dreams by the lack of opportunity, insight, and discipline. Like Hakim, most had never received the gift of fatherly guidance. Communities of fatherless, Black men. Lost in the haze of fear of not being prepared to handle manhood, many had succumbed to the ravages of misguidance. Not knowing where to turn, many had taken roads that led to self-destruction. But Hakim had not let that define him. If his WEAK, pack of CHERRY KOOL-AID IN THE OCEAN ass biological father didn't want to claim his son as a real man has to and should, HIS ASS had to deal with that! In jail, Hakim had learned that YOUR LIFE is your responsibility, NO ONE else's. Fuck a motherfucker not being in your life. CELEBRATE LIFE, regardless!
He had run into his cousin, Steve, a few days earlier. He had first fucked Amanda Worthington (see Part 1) at Steve's house, four years earlier. Steve was now a corporate attorney. He was making madd cheddar. Had a family. Nice home. Took vacations, etc... He had been genuinely happy to see Hakim. He had written Hakim consistently over the four years he had been locked up. They had exchanged numbers and hugs. It was always good to see family. Plus, Steve had been very pleased and encouraging about Hakim talking about attending school. He had told him that if there was anything he could do to help, to give him a call.
Chap. 3
"I was to declare the truth unto the people,"
-Sojourner Truth
It had been a few weeks since Hakim had fucked Dominique. And fuck was the correct term, because sista-girl had a thing about getting the lining knocked out of her pussy! She was seriously hooked on his big dick and told him so every opportunity she could! They both had decided that it was too risky for the two of them to be fucking around when Tony had expressly told them that was a no-no. It had to be about business. You can't lay pipe and pick up your paycheck in the same spot. Too many feelings going on! Dominique had admitted to him that her body craved him nonetheless and that whenever he needed some company, not to hesitate to call her. To prove her sincerity, the last time he had picked up a package at her spot, she had dropped to her knees and sucked his dick till it spurted forcibly into her wet, sucking mouth. He had to keep her around. She was to be an integral part in his plan for getting retribution on Flip.
In the drug game, women abound. They are everywhere ready to be yours for a price. Money or product. Take your pick. The finest women at your disposal. Willing to do ANYTHING your heart desires. True freaks that work the circuit from drug dealers to professional athletes. One minute they're ignoring your ass, the next they're crowding at the club with their pupils replaced with dollar signs! That shit is hard to resist! Get a little chedda' and all of a sudden you're 'the man'. Cheddar changes shit...for reals. Grimaces become smiles. Hatred turns to love. Intelligence becomes stupidity as mental laziness sets in. And THAT'S when your ass gets set up!
In this game, women were not to be trusted. This was DICK and BALLS...period! Women were weaknesses that could be used against a man at anytime, unsuspectingly. Smart drug dealers (if there is such a thing) used women as pawns. The king has to be protected at all times. That's why big money players have so many women. The queen is in there...somewhere. But there is always confusion to who she is. Never let your business interfere with your personal life! The two don't match and they AIN'T supposed to! The quickest way to fuck an enemy's head up is to fuck his bitch. An enemy will kill up the city about one of his friends but if he finds out someone has been tapping his queen's KITTY in a major way, his pride becomes fucked up and so is his reasoning and thinking. And that's when his ass gets got!
Chap. 4
"He may not come when you need Him, but He's right on time"
-Traditional
Dominique had been funneling information about Flip from his secretary, Clarissa, a very pretty and naturally blonde-haired honey. Dominique suggested that Hakim should meet the woman. Apparently, she had a lot of information that would be useful to him concerning the comings and goings of Flip. Hakim and Dominique talked about how they were going to get him introduced to Clarissa. They finally decided that Dominique would invite Clarissa over one weekend to use her apartment buildings indoor pool. The weather was going to be very hot over the next few weeks, according to the local newscast. Clarissa had mentioned that she didn't do much on the weekends, as her boyfriend traveled for work in various cities across the country and only got to town about once every other week. Hakim asked Dominique to set it up for the upcoming weekend, if she could.
The next day, Dominique had lunch with Clarissa and let it drop that she was going to lay out by the pool this weekend as much as possible. Clarissa remarked that Dominique was lucky to have a pool to use. Dominique asked Clarissa if she would like to join her. She added that she would enjoy the company, is she chose to come. Clarissa told her that her boyfriend had mentioned that he was coming to visit her this weekend. She had not seen him in three weeks. Dominique offered her cell phone number anyway in case her plans fell through or changed. Clarissa took her number and thanked her knowing that she would not need the number THIS weekend. Three weeks without her boyfriend, Chad, and the physical release he offered her was damn near maddening!
