ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT) (4 page)

              Just then, Glo walked into the living room, interrupting their criminal conversation. She was carrying a bowl full of chicken, with three sheets of paper towel at the bottom to catch the grease. She had also made some potato salad, which she carried in another bowl in her other hand. She sat the food down on the table, along with some paper plates, and everyone began to eat.  Their conversation was momentarily forgotten.  You knew the food was good when nobody was saying shit!  Glo went back into the kitchen, and she re-emerged with three glasses, and a pitcher of grape Kool-Aid that was sweet enough to put a diabetic in a coma.                                                            

“Damn. Ms. D, we gon have to get you your own restaurant when we get this paper right. This shit here… is blazin’!” said Mike, smacking his lips.                                      

“For real, mama,” Ant D and Meka said together, as they continued stuffing their faces.                                                     

              Glo took pleasure in the fact that they liked her food so much. It really made her feel good to see that they enjoyed her cooking. But what warmed her heart the most was to see her kids together, after all the craziness they had all been through over the years.

  After many, many years of prostitution, degradation, and addiction, Gloria was finally clean. She had her pride and self esteem back, but more importantly she had a relationship with her kids.  Mike had been in the family so long, she considered him one of hers too. Of course with all the bullshit she’d put her kids through over the years, their relationship was far from perfect. But it was still a relationship.

There wasn’t a day that went by that Gloria didn’t regret many of the decisions she had made over the years, selfishly chasing the next high. Maybe if she’d been a better mother, her children would’ve had a better life. Maybe they wouldn’t be involved in the streets so heavily now. Maybe… Life was full of maybes.  

She knew that her kids were knee-deep in the streets, and she knew what that type of lifestyle entailed.  But Glo never tried to preach to them. She just dropped game and gave advice, whenever she could, based on her own life experiences. All that was left to do after that was get on her knees and pray to God that He’d keep her children safe.

  That was ironic because for a long time, Gloria had seriously doubted the existence of God.  She went through a lot when she was out there, so she’d felt like God wouldn’t have allowed her to suffer that way. 

   Gloria had been involved in countless near-death situations. She had literally been to hell and back. But she conquered her demons and survived, so she knew there had to be a higher power. That’s why she prayed for her children.  She knew God was real. She was a living testimony.

              She smiled at her kids again, and told them, “I’m ‘bout to go and take me a lil’ nap, y’all. Put them dirty dishes in the sink, and them plates in the trash when y’all get through, hear?”                                                                                                              

             “Ok mama,” replied Meka. “I’ll get ‘em.”                                                              

              Mike finished off the last piece of chicken, licked his lips, and wiped his hands and mouth with a paper towel.  After he burped, and excused himself, he said, “Now back to this nigga Twan.”                                                                                                                 

             “Yeah, how much money you think he holdin’ in that safe?” Ant D asked his sister, still chewing on a mouthful of chicken and potato salad.                                                                                                                                  

             “I don’t know fa’ sho’. But it can’t be no less than 4 or 500 grand with the type of weight he be movin’. He probably got some work in there too. And do you gotta talk with yo’ mouth full? That shit is disgusting,” Meka said, teasing her brother. 

             Ant opened his mouth so Meka could get a good look at the food he hadn’t   finished chewing on.

She made a face, and then punched him in the arm. He opened his mouth to gross his other half out again, and they both laughed. 

Ant said, “Shut up, Meka, and pay close attention to what I’m finna say, ‘cause it’s going down. Here’s the plan…”

Chapter 3

   Later on that night, Meka dialed Twan’s home phone number on her purple Motorola Razr. That cell phone was Meka’s favorite color. 

   Twan answered on the 3
^rd
ring. “Hello?”                              

             “Hey daddy, it’s me,” said Meka, using her sweetest, most innocent voice.                                                                       

             “Damn babygirl, where you at? I thought you was gonna come back through, and spend the weekend wit’ me.”                                                                                             

             “Yeah daddy, I am. But you know I had to check up on my mama, and make sure everything was alright with her.”                                                                                                            

             “So, is everything cool?” Twan asked.                                                                 

             In a voice dripping with lust, she said, “Yeah, everything’s good. But I was thinking, boo. Instead of me driving all the way back to your house in Easley, how ‘bout you come into the city, and pick me up at my mama’s house? That way we can go out to eat dinner at my favorite spot.  Then after dinner, we can head back to your house. And then I can give you some dessert.”                                                               

             “And what’s for dessert?” asked Twan.                                                                    

              “Your favorite,” replied Meka.  “Me… with some whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and a cherry to top it all off. You think you can handle all that, daddy?” she teased.                                                                                                                                  

             “Ain’t nuttin’ but one way to find out. I’ll be there to get you in ‘bout an hour, alright?”                                                                                                             

             “Okay, daddy.” Meka pushed the end button on her cell phone. 

             “What’s the word, Meka?” asked Ant D, who was standing beside her the whole time she was on the phone.                                                                                 

             “Nigga, as close as yo’ ass was, all up on me, I know damn well you ain’t miss a word that nigga said,” stated Meka sarcastically. “Anyway,” she said, rolling her eyes.  “He’ll be here in about an hour to pick me up, so y’all niggas need to go ‘head and get right. I’ll keep him at the restaurant for a lil’ minute, then take him back to his house, and do what I do.”                                                                         

             “That’s what’s happenin’,” said Mike. “Just make sure that nigga is exhausted by the time we get there.”                                                                                   

             “Believe me, Mike, that won’t be a problem. I’ma fuck that nigga ‘til he in a coma!”                                                                                       

             “Naw, naw, we don’t need him in no coma, Meka,” Ant D said, grinning. “If he can’t talk, then how the fuck we gon’ get the safe combination outta his ass?” All three of them burst out laughing.

$$$

     Fresh out of the shower, Twan started getting dressed.  His mind was occupied with thoughts of Meka.  That was his baby.  She meant a lot to him. He had yet to meet a girl that could hold his attention and keep him captivated the way she did. With the type of money he was making, he had the baddest women the south had to offer at his fingertips. But none of them understood him like Meka did.

Thoughts of marriage crept through his head while he got fresh, throwing on a cream linen suit, and some brown leather Gucci hard bottoms.  

              Though Twan wasn’t sitting on kingpin status just yet, he was definitely a major figure.  He was part of one of The Upstate’s biggest drug organizations, and was moving about ten keys a week.  His uncle ran the organization, and it was he who had put him on. His uncle told him he saw the potential in him early on, so he was grooming him to take his place someday.

              Twan wasn’t a kingpin yet but he had no qualms with spending money like one. His philosophy was that you only lived once, so a nigga might as well live like tomorrow would never come.  And the type of lifestyle Twan was engaged in, that was always a possibility. He was only a year in the game, but at twenty-four years old, he already owned his own 4 bedroom, 3 1/2 bathroom house, with a swimming pool, and large back yard. His estate was complete with a 3 car garage where he kept his black Range Rover, white 645 BMW coupe with Lamborghini doors, and an old school Chevy he had restored with his own bare hands in his spare time.  He had everything he wanted. So now, with a girl who was wifey material by his side, he was already seriously considering getting out of the game.  After he touched a few more millions, that is.

                Despite his intelligence, and his uncle’s constant advice not to get involved in a serious relationship with anything but the game, Twan couldn’t help the way he felt about Meka.  He had so much respect for her he never discussed his business with her. He knew she knew he was a dope boy, but he did his best to shield her from his criminal lifestyle. They’d been together for months, and he still hadn’t introduced her to any of his close friends or family.  Almost all of them were involved in the dope game, in some way or another.

Twan understood the crabs in a bucket, animalistic mentality of the ‘hood all too well, so he didn’t want Meka to wind up getting kidnapped or something. He was stacking chips like Pringles, and he knew he had become prey for the predators the second he started.  In the ‘hood it was simple: Survival of the fittest.  The theorist Charles Darwin called it Natural Selection. So Twan took proper precautions. He had security cameras installed strategically outside his house, and a stash box in each of his vehicles for his assortment of guns and ammunition. 

              Before leaving his house, Twan activated the security system, and looked at the monitors in his den to make sure shit was in order.  This had become a habit every time he stepped out.  It was part of his routine now, since his finances had increased so drastically. 

              Reassured of his safety, Twan walked over to his garage and tried to decide which car to pull out. Since it was August, and the night was hot, he figured he’d take the Beemer coupe, and let the top down. Meka loved being seen in the 645. She told him that she got wet whenever she rode in it, so the 6 was a no brainer. He opened the door, got in, and started up the car.  Twan was in a good mood, so he decided to blast that old school Jigga and Jermaine Dupri, “Money Ain’t a Thing.”

“In the Ferrari or Jaguar switchin’ 4 lanes - Top down screamin’ out money ain’t a thing. Bubble hard in the double R flashin’ the rings - With the window cracked, holla back, money ain’t a thing…”

Twan rapped along with Hov’, and pulled out of his garage. He was on his way to pick up his baby from her mama’s house in The District.

$$$

             Meka took a quick shower, and quickly dried off.  She got out, and slowly and sensually rubbed Burberry lotion all over her body. Next, she walked over to her closet and tried to figure out what to wear that night.  She knew she wouldn’t be wearing whatever it was long, but Meka still wanted to be as fly as possible. After so many years of extreme poverty, her psyche wouldn’t allow her to step out of the house looking anything less than her best.  She even made shit like going to the grocery store a red carpet event.