“Thanks, Jessica.”
After taking a few steps, he stopped and turned back to her. “Ayo, Jess, you can use that number anytime,” he said, and then walked out of the store.
Leaving Queens Center, DeMarco saw a gray Acura Legend and thought of the one he wanted. Man, where my cousin at?
Getting back to the block, DeMarco passed the crib and headed around the corner to 118th to see if he could run into Steph. He saw everyone else except her. He was almost about to give up, when she came walking around the corner.
“Wassup, cuz?” he said. “Yo, I been lookin for you all mornin.”
“I stayed over at a friend’s house uptown yesterday. But what up though?”
“Come on, let’s hit the park and talk,” he said.
Stopping at the same bench him and shorty had sat on earlier, DeMarco started laughing.
“Nigga, what’s so funny?” Steph asked.
“Just thinkin about somethin. But yo, on some real shit, cuz, when you said I can ask you for help, what did you mean by that?”
“Just what I said. You my favorite cousin. When I was out here fucked up, you was the only one that didn’t look at me different. Wassup? Talk to me.”
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Listen, Steph. Fuckin with auntie and them is all good, but I see the money out here and I want in.”
“So?”
“So I need ya help. You know I can’t let auntie and them see me hustlin, and even if I did, they ain’t gonna sell me shit anyway. I know you know people, plus you in the spot every day. You know all the heads that come through.”
She sat quietly for a bit before jumping up suddenly and smiling. “Nigga, let’s get it,” she said. “What you got to spend?”
“Like $4,300,” he replied.
“A’ight, meet me here at 6. I’ll make a few calls.”
“I’ll be here. I love you cuz, on some real shit,” he said, before giving her a quick hug.
They both left the park and went their separate ways.
Having a couple of hours to just chill until he had to meet back up with Steph, DeMarco pulled out his phone and dialed a number that he could never forget. When no one answered, he hung up. Then he spotted his cousin Money sitting on the porch in front of his aunt’s house.
“Wassup, Money?”
“Nothin, just waitin for this shorty to come holla at me,” he replied.
“Nigga, when you gonna tell Tonya to hook me up with one of her girls?”
“Why you won’t tell Tonya yourself?” Tonya said, approaching from behind.
“Girl, you better start making some noise when you walkin up on people,” DeMarco said as Tonya stood there laughing. “I know you got some bad-ass friends. You can hook me up?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she responded, climbing up the steps and into the house.
“Oh shit, look who it is,” Money said, as a black-on-black BMW pulled up in front of them.
“Wassup?” DeMarco said as his Uncle Bruh got out of his whip.
“Same shit, nephew. Paula in the house?” Uncle Bruh asked, shaking his hand.
“Nah, I ain’t see her all day,” Money said. “Ayo, when you gonna let me drive?”
“Nigga, all the money I hear you around here trickin off, you coulda bought you some wheels,” Uncle Bruh said, laughing as he got back into his car. “I’ll catch you lil’ niggas later.”
“A’ight, unc,” DeMarco said before walking inside.
He hung around the house until it was time to head back out to meet Steph. He arrived a few minutes late, but as promised, she was waiting for him.
“It’s about time, nigga,” she said as he sat down next to her. “Don’t get comfortable, we gotta take a lil’ ride.”
They headed to the subway station and jumped on a train heading to an unknown destination.
“Ayo, cuz, where we goin?” he finally asked, once they sat down.
“Uptown, nigga, where else?” Steph replied with a crooked grin.
* * *
DeMarco stood next to Steph while she did business. Deciding to spend only $2,800, Steph talked homeboy into giving them 120 grams.
Forty-five minutes later, DeMarco sat in Steph’s crib watching her bag up the product.
“You see, cuz, you chop it up into the size of rocks you want ’em to be, then put ’em in the capsule. Everybody over there selling dimes and better, but we gonna fuck the game up and sell nickels,” Steph said, pushing the plate of rocks into the middle of the table.
An hour and a half later, DeMarco sat at the table with his cousin looking at all the capsules packed up and ready for distribution.
“That’s $10,500,” she said.
Damn! he thought to himself as he started calculating in his head. “A’ight, cuz, I trust you. You know we gotta keep this between us. Auntie and them can’t find out about none of this,” he said, getting ready to leave.
“I’ll never do you wrong. I got you,” Steph replied, looking into his eyes.
“A’ight, I’ll get with you tomorrow.”
Feeling good, DeMarco headed back around the way, thinking about how shit was about to go down. Digging into his pocket for his phone, he felt a piece of paper and pulled it out. He’d forgotten all about the shorty he’d met. He decided to give her a call.
“Hello,” a female said on the third ring.
“Can I speak to Tiffany?”
“This is Tiffany. Who dis?”
“What’s good, ma? Dis DeMarco.”
“I ain’t think you was gon call.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“I told you I would. So what you up to?” he asked.
“Nothin, just sittin here smokin.”
“Now that’s what I’m talkin ’bout.”
“You said that like you was on your way here,” she laughed.
“Soon as you give me the apartment number.”
“306.”
