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Cash Out ripped the vent gate from the wall and reached inside and found two pounds of weed. He ran back into the living room and showed it to Homicide. Homicide was pleased with the take, but he was frustrated that the robbery didn’t go the way he’d wanted it. He wanted Ish to walk in on the robbery unsuspecting, so he could hold him hostage and find out where Ghetto Mafia’s stash house was.
Homicide walked up to Simone, and with his gun, he smacked her across the face. Simone saw stars. Her face spun and hit the wall, and blood from her mouth splattered on to the floor and wall. Three of her front teeth had just been knocked out.
“We out!” Homicide said to Cash Out.
Just as they made their way to the front door, the home phone started to ring. When the home phone went to voice mail, Ish knew something was up. He ran the red light he was at and the next three red lights, trying his hardest to get to his crib as quickly as he could.
When Ish ran the light at 147th Avenue and Brookville Boulevard, a New York City cop saw him and immediately turned on his lights and started to follow Ish.
Ish was only five blocks away from house. Had he not gotten pulled over, he would have literally caught Homicide and Cash Out coming out after the home invasion. But, as it turned out, Homicide and Cash Out made it to their Audi with twenty thousand in cash and two pounds of weed.
Ish tried his best to keep his cool as the cop asked him for his license and registration, so he complied without any kind of confrontation or resistance. He was hoping like crazy that the cop didn’t ask him to step out of the car because he was certain the cop would have seen the handgun tucked in his waistband.
Thirty-Six
Homicide and Cash Out got about five miles away from the crime scene when they pulled the car to the side of the road and turned the heat on full blast although it was warm outside. They wanted to thaw out the frozen stacks of money. Once the money was thawed out, Homicide counted out five stacks of the twenty grand and gave it to his partner in crime, and he kept the rest for himself. He had also given Cash Out one pound of the weed and kept the other pound for himself before they parted ways, promising to hook up again real soon for another caper.
Homicide would have split the loot fifty-fifty with Cash Out, but it was his masterminding that had got them the loot. Cash Out was really only assisting on the tactical part of things, so the split was fair as far as far as they both were concerned.
/> By the time Homicide made it to Jasmine’s SoHo apartment it was a little past five in the morning.
“Everything okay?” Jasmine asked with a bit of nervous anticipation. Although she would never tell Homicide, in her heart she was hoping that no one had ended up dead at the home invasion.
Homicide handed Jasmine three stacks and told her that everything went off smoothly. He sat down on her couch and ran his hand over his head and down his face.
Jasmine took the money and kissed Homicide and thanked him for it, but in the pit of her stomach, she felt horrible. It was the first time that she could remember money in her hands not feeling good to her and not making her feel genuinely happy.
“I bought some Coronas and some Guinness if you want one,” she said to Homicide.
Homicide told Jasmine to bring him a Guinness, which she did, and she sat down next to him on her couch. Jasmine pressed him for details on the robbery, but he had been around the block way too many times and knew to keep his mouth shut. The stone-cold look he gave to Jasmine was all it took to stop her from asking a million questions.
Homicide reached for Jasmine’s remote control and turned on the flat-screen TV.
Jasmine desperately wanted to know what was going through his head. “Babe, just tell me one thing—did anybody get hurt?”
“What the fuck you asking me that for?” Homicide stared at Jasmine.
Jasmine knew that he was seriously waiting for her to give him an answer. “I’m just asking, baby, that’s all.”
“Don’t worry about that shit.” Homicide stood up from the couch and guzzled down the rest of the Guinness.
“I’m sorry.” Jasmine tried to push up on Homicide and give him a kiss, but he wasn’t interested in that. Instead he rubbed on his beard and thought about how he had fucked up by not being patient. He should have just waited for Ish to come home on his own instead of sending that text to him.
“Just be yourself. You don’t know nothing, you don’t say nothing, and you’ll be good.”
“Okay,” Jasmine replied, and she asked him if he wanted another Guinness.
“Nah, I’m about to bounce.”
Jasmine made sure she gave him a kiss. “I need you,” she said.
Homicide looked into Jasmine’s eyes and could feel her sincerity. “I gotchu. Don’t worry about nothing.”
Jasmine nodded her head, and then she walked Homicide to the apartment door to see him off.
After about five minutes Jasmine called Agent Gosling, who picked up on the fourth ring.
“Hello,” Gosling said in a groggy voice. It was clear that he had just woken up.
