Crackhead (24 page)

The cop car flicked its high beams twice, then killed the lights. Marco got out of his car holding an envelope. He walked over to the Lumina and climbed into the front. Smurf's mind began to spin. Smurf scratched his head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. The only time a nigga was supposed to get into a police car was if he was under arrest. Even then, his ass was supposed to get into the backseat. Marco had to be a snitch, just as Smurf had suspected all along. He knew there was something shady about that nigga. Smurf knew that making his
move would be dangerous, but fuck it. He lived a dangerous life. As Marco and the officer conversed, Smurf moved in closer.

Inside the car, the unthinkable was going on. Marco handed the officer the dossier containing information on Dink and his drug operations. He didn't like what he was doing, but the police had him by the balls. Dink had told him time and again about riding dirty, but he was a know-it-all. He knew everything except what to tell the police when he got caught with two ounces of coke. Hence, his predicament. He had sacrificed his lifelong friend to save his own skin.

“Is this everything?” the officer asked.

“Yep,” Marco said. “Account numbers and how much he clocked this month. It's all there. Can I go now?”

“Not just yet,” the officer said with a mischievous look in his eye. “Where are your manners? You haven't even greeted me properly.”

“My bad,” Marco said. He leaned in, kissing the officer on the lips.

“That's better,” the officer said, unbuckling his belt. “Now hook me up before you go.”

Marco smiled wickedly as he went down on the officer.

Smurf watched as Marco leaned over into the officer's lap. The officer threw his head back in ecstasy as Marco's head bobbed up and down.

If Dink could see him now, he would shit a brick. Marco was down-low faggot. Molested as a child and raped in prison before coming to terms with his sexuality, Marco harbored his feelings for men until he was able to unleash them, far, far away from his boys. But the biggest secret of all that determined whether Marco lived or died was his love for Dink—not brotherly love, but
love-love. Needless to say, the thought of Dink falling for some chick and going away with her didn't sit well with him at all.

It took all of Smurf's self-control to keep him from emptying his gun into the Lumina's windshield. It was bad enough that Marco was dealing from the bottom, but he was a homo, too! That shit was crazy. Dink had been good to all of them. He'd made them a family, and that muthafucka Marco had turned out to be rotten.

Smurf wanted to call Dink and tell him what was up. He wanted Dink to give him the go-ahead to blast that nigga on the spot. But he knew Dink all too well. He would have wanted Smurf to fall back and let him handle things himself. Smurf couldn't see walking away from the scene before him, so he made a judgment call. He disappeared into the shadows and waited.

WHEN IT CAME
to sex, Dame enjoyed being aggressive. He had never met a female that was confident enough to flip the script, but there was a first time for everything. Tammi loved sex and being in control. She was a vet and extremely conscious of how the thought of sex made all men, at some point, fall victim. But right now she had a job to do and intended on keeping it street.

From the moment they walked through the door of their hotel room, Tammi took charge. She wouldn't let Dame touch her unless she gave him permission. Dame was thrown off balance. He was a man who liked being in control. He wasn't used to a female taking the lead. Normally he would have been pissed off, but strangely enough, he was turned on by it.

“Turn your ass around, nigga!” Tammi commanded. Dame reached out to feel her breasts, but she wanted her ass felt. “Feel this ass, nigga,” she said as she grabbed his hand.

“What the fuck you doing?” Dame said, jerking his hand away.

“Nothin', baby. You scared of me?” she purred. “You afraid of a woman that takes the lead?”

“Shit!” Dame stepped back toward Tammi, attempting to seduce her with his kisses. Tammi still wanted her way, and she grabbed his hands and placed them on her ripe ass.

“Here, you feel that?” she asked. “Doesn't it make your dick hard?”

Dame figured he'd play Tammi's game, just as long as intercourse was at the end of the tunnel.

“Yeah, ya shit is crazy soft. Damn, girl. You got my ear. I'm listenin' like a muthafucka.”

Tammi unbuttoned Dame's pants and pulled out his penis. She was impressed, but this was business, not pleasure. She put his dick in her mouth and began to blow him.

“Damn, baby,” he moaned.

“You like that?” she asked, looking up at him. “Tell me you like that.” She continued to suck.

“I like it,” he groaned. “Yeah, baby. Do that shit.”

Dame closed his eyes and tilted his head back as Tammi pleasured him. He was so into it that he never saw her slide the switchblade from the tote she was carrying. Tammi worked Dame's dick with one hand and opened the knife with the other. She took her mouth off of him and with a sweep of her arm, she cut his dick completely off. Dame tried to scream as he leaned over in pain, but Tammi was quick to cut his throat.

As Dame lay there dying, Tammi relieved him of all his goods. All his jewelry and every dime in his pocket went into her tote. As the life escaped his body, his anger grew; however, he had no
choice but to lie there, helpless. Dame had hated and abused women all his life, only to have karma catch up with him. It was a woman who brought him into the world and a woman who took him out.

Tammi checked herself one last time in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. Everything was straight. She glanced at Dame. “You were a big one, too. Too bad, baby. I'll bet you could fuck the shit out of a bitch, huh?” She blew him a kiss and exited the room.

Once Tammi had left the hotel building, she walked a couple of blocks and hailed a taxi. In addition to nice jewelry, she had a total of twelve thousand dollars in her tote. She would report five to Smurf and cuff the seven. Hell, she had to eat too. After giving the driver instructions on where to take her, she settled into the backseat to enjoy the ride.

SMURF WAITED NEARLY
a half-hour for Marco to get out of the Lumina and for the officer to drive off. Finally, Marco was in the alley alone. When the officer's car was out of sight, Smurf slid up behind Marco as he was getting back into his car.

“Yo!” Smurf said.

“What the fuck!” Marco jumped. “You scared me, kid.”

“My bad,” Smurf said with his arms folded. “I was walking by and I saw your car. What you doing down this way, fam?”

“Minding my business, lil' nigga.” Marco didn't like Smurf's demeanor. “Fuck you doing questioning me?”

“Nah,” Smurf said, moving a little closer to Marco. “Seeing your car parked here in this dark-ass alley down in The Village just seemed a little funny, that's all. I mean, I know
we
ain't got no business down here.”

Marco could have kicked himself for not strapping his pistol.
He had taken it off and put it in his glove box before meeting up with the officer. He knew Smurf's M.O. If he dared reach for it, Smurf would surely kill him. He had to play it cool and see what the kid knew.

“Ain't nothing. I was down here wit' a bitch,” Marco lied.

“Where she at?” Smurf asked, looking around.

“Uh . . . around the corner using the bathroom. She should be done by now, so let me pull the car around to meet her.”

“I'll ride with you,” Smurf volunteered, getting in the passenger's side. Smurf picked up Marco's car phone and started dialing.

“Who you calling?” Marco jumped in the driver's seat.

“Naw, nobody, forget it.” Smurf said, putting the phone down carefully so that it didn't hang up.

“I mean . . . come on. Why you wanna be a third wheel?”

“Same reason you wanna be a snitch!” said Smurf, unfolding his arms and exposing the Glock he had been concealing in his right hand. “I seen the whole thing, Marco. As good as Dink was to you, why?”

Marco just sat there staring at Smurf. Then something came to mind. If Smurf saw him in the car with the officer, then nine times out of ten he saw
everything.
First it was Dame who had caught Marco with a man almost in that very same spot. He'd lied his way out of it, telling Dame that he didn't see what he thought he had seen, but Dame knew better. Marco wasn't totally certain that Dame truly believed him. And with no words at all, Dame held that incident over his head. Finding out that Dame's lights were getting put out had lifted a huge weight off Marco's shoulders. As the saying goes: when one door closes, another one opens. He supposed that Smurf was that new open door.

Marco knew that there was no way out this time. He knew
what his destiny was with this lil' nigga. No need being a punk now. “Fuck you, lil' nigga,” Marco spat. “I did what I had to do. It was me or Dink, fam. That's the way shit is out here—survival of the fittest. A lot of shit you wouldn't understand, son.”

“You know what? I might not understand a lot of shit, but I understand loyalty.” Smurf fired two shots into Marco's heart. He raised the car phone to his ear. “You hear all that, Dink?”

“Yeah,” Dink replied from the other end. “I heard it all.”

DINK SAT IN
his car as a lone tear ran down his cheek. When his car phone had rung minutes earlier, he'd picked it up to say hello but didn't hear anything. Then he heard what sounded like Smurf and Marco having an argument. As he listened in, he understood what was going down. Marco was a snitch.

He and Marco had grown up together. When Marco got locked up, Dink took care of him. When he came home, Dink put him on. Marco had rewarded Dink's kindness with treachery. He wiped his eyes and tried to gather his wits. He would miss the Marco he thought he knew, but that was how the game went.

Dink hung the car phone up and pulled up to the most beautiful house on the street, knocked on the front door twice, and waited. After a few moments, a woman came to the door and eyed him suspiciously. He knew she had to be Laci's mother—they looked so much alike.

“Mrs. Johnson,” Dink spoke in a clear voice. “My name is Din—I mean Daryl. I'm here to talk to you about Laci.”

TAMMI PAGED SMURF
as soon as she got out of the cab. It took him about five minutes to walk to where she was on West Eighth Street. When he spotted her standing in front of the train
station, she didn't even looked nervous. Tammi had just caught a body, but she was calm and collected. Smurf almost felt sorry for what he was about to do to her.

“Hey, baby,” she said with a smile.

“Did you take care of business?” Smurf cut to the point.

“Of course I did. Shit. I told you that it was a piece of cake. That nigga was easy. All I had to do was give him some head and it was a wrap.”

“Whatever. Did you get any money from him?”

“A little something. Not much,” she lied.

“What's ‘not much'?” he questioned.

“A couple grand or so.”

“A couple grand?” Smurf asked in disbelief. Dame was a baller. That nigga was a pimp. Smurf knew he had to be holding more than that. “You sure? That nigga Dame wouldn't be caught dead with less than five grand in his pocket.”

“I beg to differ,” Tammi said with a devilish grin. “But seriously, that's all he had. I was just as surprised as you. I thought that I was gon' have a grip, and all I ended up with was a pinch.”

“I hear you,” Smurf said, sizing her up. “Don't worry about it. You keep that for your trouble. Come on so I can give you the rest of your money.” Smurf walked down a side street. Tammi followed behind.

“You giving it to me now?” she asked. “Niggas usually have this twenty-four-hour waiting period so they can confirm the shit.”

“Yeah?” Smurf said. “Would you rather get it tomorrow?”

“No!” she said greedily, running behind him.

“What you been up to lately?” he asked, making small talk.

“On the grind,” she responded. “Stripping ain't paying like it used to. Niggas is getting cheaper by the day.”

“I hear that, ma. Yo, let me ask you something. Was you born stupid or did you have to work on it?”

Tammi was still pondering the question when Smurf hit her with the Glock. He fired two bullets into her chest, monkey-flipping her to the concrete. He dug through her tote and found the twelve grand she was trying to cuff. Smurf took off his jacket and wrapped it around the tote. He then placed it under his arm and got off the block.
Damn, I'm hungry, all this work got a nigga starving,
he thought.

D
INK, MARGARET, UNCLE
Sonny, and Laci all sat around the coffee table. Margaret and Laci's eyes were worn and red from crying. Everything that Laci had gone through had finally been laid on the table—the drugs, the sex, everything. Laci painted a much more descriptive picture than the private eye's snapshots could ever have portrayed. Margaret almost fainted twice, but Uncle Sonny managed to revive her.

Margaret was amazed at Dink's courage and honesty. He told her about his sordid past, his career choice, and his plan to retire so he could be there for Laci. Margaret was a little thrown by him at first, but she respected his strength. She could tell by looking in his eyes that he really cared for her daughter. Most young men didn't even take the time to come and meet a girl's parents. Here, Dink was demanding an encounter.

The four of them discussed the best way to handle Laci's
recovery. Margaret and Uncle Sonny knew of a few programs out of state. Finally, they found one that sounded like it had the perfect twelve-step program for Laci. It was also the only one that had a bed available, but it was all the way in North Carolina. While she was in rehab, her mother would tell everyone she was vacationing in Puerto Rico. Margaret hated the thought of sending her daughter away, but she needed help. Dink promised Margaret that he would make sure Laci got to the facility safely, and he would fly back and forth to check on her as much as possible.