Page 18 of Changed Man


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“Niggas ain’t got no fuckin’ honor or loyalty and now he wants you to be a disloyal, stab-a-nigga-in-the-back mutha fucka too,” I ranted.

“Yeah, but only for a minute,” Bobby said as we got to Roscoe’s. We really did need to stop calling it that since Cynt killed Roscoe.

Roscoe’s was actually a strip club called Passion that ran gambling in the basement. He was one of the few people that we didn’t have to threaten, beat or kill to take over his spot. One visit from Nick and Jamaica and he rolled over quickly.

The place was always packed, and it had become a gold mine for us. Since she was too busted up from the beating she took to dance, I let Cynt tend bar, but I very quickly found out that she had other skills that would prove to be more valuable in the long run.

Cynt was gangster.

I found out that she had already been running the dancers when she killed Roscoe. In the few months since, she had taken over the place and had a few things going to get her paid. I liked that, respected it.

We went in the VIP Room that Bobby had built just for us, and Cynt sent in four dancers with drinks. While the women danced, I got Bobby to finish telling me the plan.

“Andre tells Ricky that he don’t want nothing to do with it, ’cause the shit ain’t right.” He said and passed the bob.

I hit it once and passed it back to him. “Damn right, it ain’t.”

“But he tells him to send Lamar to Rocky.”

“Who gets his shit from Chilly, who gets his shit from Jimmy Knowles and Charlie Rock.”

“So Andre still makes the money. He’s just a couple of steps away from it.”

“It’s the smart play.” I paused. “Niggas ain’t shit, but it’s the smart play. But what does any of that have to do with us getting Andre his money,” I said, and Bobby just looked at me like I was Boo-Boo the Fool until I figured it out. “How much money we talkin’?”

“Sixty grand.” Bobby smiled. “We pay Andre and split the rest. He want points?”

“He didn’t say, but you know he does.”

“Still. He’s off our backs and we got a good hit.”

Now I was smiling. “A damn good hit. Like I said, I’m in. You know when it’s going down?”

“Andre had Ricky set the whole thing up,” Bobby said and motioned for the girls and all four flocked to us.

“When’s it goin’ down?”

Bobby looked at his watch. “In about two hours. So,” he said as Jenae sat on his lap. “Relax and enjoy yourself.”

And I did relax, or at least I tried to relax. I mean, I did enjoy myself. Lo-Lo and Anya danced and did all the other shit I usually enjoy, but I still felt tense and on edge and it wasn’t because of the thirty I owed Andre or the job we were getting ready to do to get him his money. The whole time, I kept wantin’ to ask Bobby what time it was; is it time to go yet?

I wanted to get out of there and do something.

No.

I fuckin’ had to do something. Something to occupy my mind, not just get my dick hard; something Lo-Lo could do on her worst day, fuckin’ fine as she was.

When my mind is still and quiet, thoughts of Vickie ease in. It makes me wonder if her coming to sleep with me those nights before I killed her was her way of asking me to save her?

See how fucked up I am. Help me, Mike!

I knew that Bobby was right. I needed to stop being consumed by this guilt. I knew that I couldn’t change things by constantly saying it’s my fault and that I killed her all the time. I needed to deal with these fuckin’ emotions over Vickie and move forward.

But it’s hard because I have so many memories of Vickie; happy memories that I can’t share with anybody because she’s gone. I remember when I first moved on the block. First person I met was Bobby and on the first day of school, I met Vickie.

While Anya shook her titties in my face, I found myself thinking about the day I was locked out because I forgot my key. I was sitting on the steps waiting for my mother to come home when Vickie came out to play. She lived across the street and was playing in front of her house. I waved to her and she waved back. After a while, she came over.

“Why you just sitting there?” Vickie asked.

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