on its own set of twenty-two inch rims. The windows of the cars were rolled up, and the faces of the men that sat inside were hidden by the dark tint.
“What is that all about?” Free inquired, nodding in the direction of the cars.
“That’s Brick’s young goon squad. Those are the only people that he keeps close to him. They ride around once a day to make their presence known.”
Free knew that they were trying to stunt. They were riding high, and they wanted everybody in the city to know it. Once again, Free shook his head. Brick was running a drug ring that was destined to get him and his crew put in a federal prison. They had two qualities that were bound to get you locked up. They were flashy and stupid. Niggas riding around in one-hundred-thousand-dollar cars did nothing but draw attention to the already hot block where hustlers stood on corners alternating crack sales. A couple years back, I would have stuck those flashy niggas up, he thought to himself.
“You fucking with him?” Free asked.
Big Lou stood up and opened the screen door to the house. “Hell, nah. That drug shit is dead right now. A nigga like me values his freedom. You ain’t seen the news?”
Free shook his head and then got up to follow Big Lou into the house.
“This shit has been all over the TV for weeks now. Brick got into some shit. One of his workers got nabbed a couple months ago. Dumb mu’fucka gon’ try to venture out and do some side hustling. The nigga ended up selling to an under-cover narc.”
“Damn,” Free commented.
“You ain’t heard the most of it… Watch this shit,” Big Lou said as he turned on his forty-inch plasma. CNNs Nancy Grace appeared on the screen, and her voice filled the room.
“According to federal prosecutor Brant Stallworth, the government has a witness that can give in-depth testimonies regarding Britain Adams’s involvement in an international drug ring. Britain Adams has a street alias of ‘Brick,’ and he has a loyal following of young men who have terrorized the city of Detroit. Allegedly, since his position as kingpin three years ago, the violent crime rate has skyrocketed in the area. He is charged with several counts of murder, distribution of a controlled substance, and extortion. If convicted, Britain Adams will be facing a life sentence in a federal penitentiary.”
Big Lou turned off the television and shook his head in contempt. “The worst part about it is that the key witness is one of the cats he kept in his inner circle, so he knows every thing. I’m talking names of the connect, stash spots, where bodies lie…the whole nine.”
“Sound like your man Brick don’t know who’s who in his own camp,” Free stated. This nigga Brick set himself up. You always supposed to know who you got in your circle, he thought.
“Word on the street is he got a fed in his pocket that can tell him where they holding the witness. Only thing is he can’t do anything about it. They got the scope on him tough. The nigga can’t take a shit without the feds knowing about it.”
“Sound like his days are numbered,” Free said as he shook his head from side to side.
“Looks that way, don’t it?” Big Lou agreed.
For the first time Free realized that the drug game was dried up. The clientele was there, but Brick had made it too hot for anybody to do anything. He looked at Big Lou and then said, “I’ma get at you later, fam.”
They slapped hands, and Free prepared to leave. Before he walked out of the door, Big Lou called out to him.
“Yo’, Free!”
Free stopped walking and turned to face his friend.
“Let me know if you need me.”
“Thanks, man, I’ma get at you.”
Nighttime had fallen quickly, and Free was mentally exhausted from trying to come up with some type of plan. He was riding through the city streets when he noticed the flashing red and blue lights behind him. He pulled over to the side of the road and placed his hands on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to give the cop any reason to jump stupid, so he waited patiently as he approached the window.
“Alfree Woodard,” the officer announced smugly. Free already knew who it was. He recognized his voice. It was the same detective who had locked him up three years ago. He had some type of personal vendetta against Free.
“Detective Wade,” Free acknowledged as he nodded, still keeping his hands on the wheel. He knew that Wade wouldn’t have a problem putting a bullet in him, so he made sure that he didn’t make the wrong move.
“It’s kind of late for you to be out here, ain’t it?”
“Just running to the store for my girl,” Free replied. The detective laughed slightly and repeated, “Running to the store for your girl.” His demeanor turned hostile as he continued. “Cut the bullshit, Free. I’m watching you. I’m here waiting for the opportunity to send you back to prison.” With those words Detective Lonnie Wade walked back to his unmarked squad car and drove off, winking at Free before he was out of sight.
“Fuck!” Free yelled out as he hit the dashboard. He knew that the detective’s eyes would be on him for awhile. If he made any type of attempt to reenter the drug game, the detective would send him back to prison, and this time it would be for the long haul. How am I going to come up with this money?
Six felt guilty about the argument that she had started with Free. She knew that he was a good man. He had always treated her with respect and showered her with material possessions. Damn, I shouldn’t have gone off like I did. I know if he’s got it, I’ve got it. I got to stick by his side right now and let him know that I’m here.
Six was consumed by her thoughts as she prepared a romantic atmosphere for her man to come home to. She was so used to him spoiling her, and now that he couldn’t, she was upset. She knew that she was going to have to let Free know that she was there through whatever. He had carried her for so long and only stopped because he had been arrested. She knew that it was her turn to be strong for her man, and that is exactly what she planned to do from that point on. She looked at the clock that read 4:30 A.M. and felt her heart sink. She didn’t even know if Free planned to come home. The empty knot in the bottom of her stomach had her sick with uncertainty. He had never stayed out all night before, but they both had said things that should have never been spoken, and she knew that he was feeling the exact same way that she was…guilty. She lit every candle in the house and turned out the lights, creating a romantic ambiance in the tiny apartment. Then she showered and slipped into a black Victoria’s Secret camisole and matching thong. Turning on the song that she and Free fell asleep to every night, Six sat back and listened as Biggie kicked his lyrics to “Me & My Bitch.”
But you was my bitch, the one who’d never snitch
Love me when I’m broke or when I’m filthy fuckin’ rich
Six’s eyes watched the clock and as each minute passed a little bit of her heart broke even more. Free was her best friend, and she needed him to know that she was down for him. She knew that Free wasn’t the type of man who would be down for long. He would pick up the broken pieces; she would just have to give him time. She was stressed and had blown up out of frustration, but in the back of her mind, she knew that he would take care of her. She balled up on the couch and stared at the front door. I hope he comes home.
As if her thoughts had summoned him the locks clicked on the front door, and Free walked in. He stared at Six as she lay on the couch, and she returned his gaze. They both could sense the other’s remorse, but they didn’t feel that it was necessary to speak any words. They knew each other like the backs of their own hand and already knew what the other was thinking.
He sighed and walked over to her, he lifted her head and sat down. She rested her head in his lap as he stroked her hair and inhaled the scent of her love spell body spray. His touch was so gentle that he sent shivers up her spine. Six was so glad that Free had come home. Everything that she had