Jason didn’t even look at the rocks. He already knew J-Bo kept some good stuff, so he just stuffed them inside his old, stained, no-name jeans pocket and turned for the door.
“Like I said, my name’s Jason. I’ve been knowing J-Bo for a long time. If y’all need me to make a food run or something, just give me a holla. It’s not a problem.”
“A’ight, that’s a bet,” Trey said, walking Jason out to the parking lot.
“See y’all in a bit.” Jason climbed in his truck and handed the young blonde riding shotgun one of the rocks. Trey watched as the woman packed her pipe and set fire to it. Jason backed away.
Before the night was out, Jason had made at least thirty runs, and each time, he was spending no less than five hundred dollars. Word had gotten out that J-Bo’s good crack was back in town, and that was all the reason for every redneck in a twenty-mile radius to hit up the bank and make a withdrawal. As they made withdrawals, Wink was making wire transfers through MoneyGram.
Sleep was impossible for all of them. They tried working in shifts, one sleeping while the other served, but it was just too much traffic, to the point where they were all scared to close their eyes. Money was changing hands too fast, and none of them were used to seeing that much money in their life.
Willie would be standing in front of the bed, counting and recounting the money, pretending it was all his. “What we gon’ buy once we start gettin’ our own money like this?” he asked.
“Shit, the first thing I’ma buy is some game. I want to learn everything, so we can have niggas sittin’ in a motel somewhere. Feel me?” asked Wink.
Willie hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he nodded as he daydreamed and envisioned everything Wink had said. “Yeah, I feel you, my nigga.”
“I was thinking, too. When we do get straight, maybe we can shoot down to Mississippi and set up shop. I know they probably paying just as much as these crackers since it’s the South. You know y’all niggas slow as shit down there,” Wink teased.
“Fuck you.” Willie laughed. “I’ll see what’s up,” he said. Willie was originally from Mississippi, but he moved to Detroit when he was ten to live with his moms. But every once in a while, he would go back down south to visit his grams.
“Yeah, right now we just stackin’ and learning. Pretty soon we gon’ have all this shit, and some,” Wink confidently said as he waved his hand at the crack and money sprawled out across the bed.
Downstairs, Trey and Krazy were making short-term plans on how they were going to run a train on the white chick Jason kept pulling up with. The only problem was she never got out the truck.
“Let me holla at him,” said Krazy as he stood up to let Jason in for the fortieth time.
“Here’s eight hundred,” said Jason.
Trey took the money, while Krazy stayed out front, rapping with Jason about pink toes.
“Who is she?” asked Krazy.
“She’s a buddy of mine’s old lady. He’d flip his wig if he knew I had her do something like that,” said Jason.
“I mean, he ain’t gotta know. And I’ma make it worth both y’all while. I ain’t gonna lie. I’ma try’na see her,” Krazy said, peeking from behind the curtain out into the truck. He flicked his tongue seductively at the woman as they met eyes. She broke into a smile and shook her head.
“See, she’s with it,” said Krazy as he let the curtain close.
“I tell you what. Let me talk to her, and if she’s okay with it, I’ll send her up. But it won’t be tonight, ’cause her old man’s at my house partying.”
“A’ight, just set it up for whenever,” said Krazy. He was lost and turned out ever since Gator sicced those white broads on him at the spot. Lately, all he wanted was some pink toes.
Trey stepped back in the room and handed Jason his eight stones.
“Don’t forget me,” said Krazy as he opened the door for Jason. He flicked his tongue again at the woman, to which she covered her face to conceal her blushing.
“I’m tellin’ you, my nigga. We got that bitch,” said Krazy as he locked the door.
“What he say? He gon’ hook it up?” asked Trey.
“Yeah. I’m tellin’ you. You ain’t had no head until you get some dome from one of these snow bunnies while they high off that shit. It’s like they be in another world, just them and yo’ dick.”
“I ain’t fuckin’ with you.” Trey laughed.
“She look like she got that lockjaw, too,” said Krazy as he continued to fantasize about ole girl. He flopped down on the sofa and flicked through the channels, looking for something good to watch.
“Leave it right there,” Trey said.
“You see how them Mexican mothafuckas gettin’ money. That’s how we should be doin’ it,” said Krazy. It was a documentary about the Mexican Mafia out in California.
“Word,” Trey agreed as he pretended he was standing right next to the short, fat Mexican who seemed to be running shit.
“That can be us,” said Krazy.
They rolled up two joints and kicked back, each lost in la-la land, fantasizing about a life of luxury. Krazy thought about all the pink toes he could afford with that kind of money, while Trey plotted on a new Beamer. Slowly but surely, Trey was falling in love with the game. J-Bo knew a week of seeing that out of town money would have all they young asses turned out. It’s what the game did to him.
Chapter Eight
Four days had gone by since Jason told Krazy he’d hook him up with pink toes. Every time Jason would come cop, Krazy would be pressing the shit out of him about ole girl. Finally, he just chalked up that she wasn’t gon’ show. He kept quoting some old pimp line he heard back in Detroit to Trey, who was tired of hearing it.
“I know, I know. Ain’t but two things you never seen before: a UFO and a hoe that won’t go.” Trey took the words out of Krazy’s mouth.
“You damn right,” said Krazy as he got up and started pacing the floor. The small-ass room was closing in on him. The shit was boring as a mothafucka, and a nigga with as much energy as Krazy needed some type of action. Selling crack to crackers all day didn’t constitute action for him.
“Who is it?” he shouted as someone knocked on the door.
“Mandy,” a soft white woman’s voice said.
Krazy rushed over to the door and snatched it open. It was ole girl who he’d been sweating the hell out of Jason about.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” asked Mandy.
“My bad. Yeah, come on in.” Krazy snapped out of his brief daze. He was lost in the young woman’s curves. She wore next to nothing. Her
