Block Party 7: One Last Run

By Al-Saadiq Banks

Tony Austin is the most talked about attorney of the 21st century. He is widely considered the most compelling attorney of all time. Early in his career, he was nicknamed the Dapper Don of attorneys attracting the attention of news media. As much as they wanted to focus on his stylish wardrobe, his craftiness and work ethic overshadowed his attire. Like a magician, he’s made some of the world’s most wicked criminals appear innocent. By hook or crook, he stops at nothing to defend his client, even if it means crossing that fine line between ethical and unethical.

With all the antics the Government and the Judicial system have used against him, there’s no game he hasn’t seen. He’s gone against the system blow for blow singlehandedly. When it comes to victory, no pebble is too tiny for him to kick over, and no mountain is too big for him to climb. With all the challenging battles he’s fought to save his clients’ freedom, he now faces the most brutal one of them all, and that’s retaining his own freedom.

Tony Austin has declared war against the United States of America, which may be the biggest mistake he’s made in his life. It’s a Block Party 20-year reunion as Tony is reacquainted with former clients. As retaliation for Tony’s war, the Feds are attempting to tie Tony into the criminal enterprises of those clients. His decision is destroying his life and the lives of innocent people close to him. Will Attorney Tony Austin be able to work his magic and pull himself and the many people affected out of this disaster, or will his 20-year winning streak end with him behind bars like a criminal?

• Language: English
• Publisher: True 2 Life Publications
• Release date: May 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781495639777

Al-Saadiq Banks

Al-Saadiq Banks is a Best Selling Author of 18 urban fiction and street lit genre titles. Al- Saadiq Banks made his entrance into the literary world in 2002. He is the co-founder of an independent publishing house operating under the imprint of True 2 Life Publications. His first title "No Exit," was the launching pad to knocking the doors of the genre off the hinges, selling approximately 90,000 books the first year. His readership base widely respects him for penning True 2 Life, raw and uncut crime novels, which all take place in Newark, New Jersey, dating back from the 1980s to the current day. Al-Saadiq and True 2 Life Publications is that thin line where Fiction and Fact meet, and the lines blur and cross.

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Copyright © 2022 by Al-Saadiq Banks. All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to real people, living or dead, actual events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended to give the fiction a sense of reality. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Author: Al-Saadiq Banks

Contact Information:

True 2 Life Publications

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Newark, New Jersey 07108

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Edited By: True 2 Life Media Conglomerate LLC

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A boss gives a command while a leader gives a request. A command from a boss is fulfilled only because it is expected and commanded to do so. A request from a leader is fulfilled gladly because the people want to please their leader. When a boss falls short and can no longer feed, the people will abandon him and look for another boss to feed them. When a leader falls short, his people will do everything in their power to get their leader back into position,

— Akbar Pray

-1-

Trenton, New Jersey

Ascream pierces the airwaves, catching the attention of everyone in the area. The burnt-out dope fiend woman shouts across the courts again, this time even louder. She waves the pack of young hustlers over to her. The group of five young men run over with anxiousness to see what the screaming is all about.

As the young men get closer, they notice the woman standing with her pants and crusty panties wrapped around her ankles, her bare ass exposed. She turns around, and the expression on her face is that of someone who has just seen a ghost. She tries to speak, but the words won’t escape her mouth. She steps aside, and the young men look at where she’s pointing. Their faces now have the same expression as hers. I, I, stepped back here to pay the water bill(take a piss), and I see this right at my feet, she cries before covering her mouth.

She points at the ground where an amputated human leg is. And look right there ain’t that a finger? she asks as she backs away. Oh my God, what the fuck? She gasps as if she’s about to vomit.

Next to the hand is a stack of poster-sized photos. The photos are like that of a horror movie. One of the young men picks the photos up and is surprised to see Middle Godson and Bleek in what appears to be the actual documentation of their torture. The images show them tied down at what seems to be the start and others show them in stages of limbs being cut off. Close-ups of their faces show the agony and pain of their torture.

Two of the young men walk off, eyes on the ground looking for any other body parts that may be here. The other three men pass the photos around, studying them in disbelief. One man grabs his phone from his pocket and proceeds to snap pictures like a photographer. He takes a photo of the leg, and the hand, zooming in one finger at a time. Motherfuckers will never believe this shit, he says as he bends over to get a closer view. Taking these straight to the gram, he says with a smile. I’m about to go viral, like a million views, he says with excitement.

He snaps a few shots of the photos. He posts the video of the hand and captions it ‘Niggas get what their hands call for.’ Included in that post is the leg as well as the photos. In seconds his alerts start chiming. Look at this shit, two hundred views in a minute. Instagram gone have to cut the check!

One man walks off to the side with his phone glued to his ear. He listens impatiently as the phone rings on the other end.

Meanwhile in Newark

Bradley Court

The canary yellow Ferrari F150 speeds down the narrow one-way block, exceeding 150 miles an hour. The car moves so fast that the wind that blows from it can knock one off their feet. Once the vehicle reaches the corner, the red light doesn’t stop it. The driver zips into the intersection and spins a donut in the middle of South Orange Avenue. Thick clouds of smoke screen the car as it spins donuts.

Drivers sit in their cars, fearing the Ferrari will smack into them. Crowds of young men jump up and down, cheering the driver on as he performs like a stuntman. The smell of burnt rubber overflows in the air. The driver stops abruptly, and with great expertise, he backs into the one-way block. In reverse, he speeds up the block against the traffic. He reaches the speed of 60 miles an hour in 4 seconds.

Just as the car nears the corner, gunfire rips through the air. Vito fires away with rage. The back window shatters into pieces—the Ferrari fishtails before smacking into a parked car. The driver quickly regains control, speeds up the block, and bends the first corner.

Making the fucking spot all hot with that dumb shit, Vito says as he walks across the street with his gun still in hand.

Skelter and her two Godsons lean against the building, sharing a blunt and watching the show. This performance is like something they’ve never witnessed. Less than sixty miles away from home, and it’s as if they’re on an entirely different planet. They’ve heard of the history of car theft in Newark back in the day, but to see it thriving like this still today is unbelievable. Every day stolen cars rip through the block like a racetrack. What amazes them the most is none of the vehicles are your everyday average cars. Just standing out here, they’ve seen every prestigious automobile ever made, Ferraris and Lamborghinis to Rolls Royces.

The building Skelter is standing in front of is her very own. Vito has given Skelter this building to do whatever she chooses to do in it. He’s given out strict instructions that no one else is to bust a move inside, in front of or around her designated building. She’s been given full range but hasn’t yet utilized it to the fullest. She’s still just figuring it all out. Trenton and Newark vibe on such a different pulse. Once she gets a grasp of the Newark flow, she plans to turn it up. For now, Vito has given her a crew to work with to keep some money flowing in.

As Vito makes his way over to Skelter, her phone rings. The 609 area code throws her off, but still, she answers it. Yo? Skelter squints as she listens closely. What? The fuck out of here. Skelter pulls her phone away from her ear and locks her eyes on the screen. Her mouth drops wide open as she stares at the photos. Seconds of silence pass. She fights back the urge to shed a tear, but still, one escapes her eye. This single tear is more of rage than sorrow. I will be right there.

Skelter hangs the phone up quickly. Her Godsons can sense that something is wrong. What’s up? Youngest Godson asks eagerly.

Skelter can’t even say the words. She has a visual, making her angrier by the second. We have to head down the way asap, she says as she walks off. Skelter walks off with her Godsons tailing behind at her heels.

Ay yo! Vito says. You good? he asks. Vito has learned so much about Skelter in such a little time. He’s studied her like a project and can read her like a book, and he can sense that something is wrong. You need me?

Nah, Skelter replies. I got it. But stay close to the phone, just in case.

Absolutely, he says with a twinkle in his eyes. Vito knows she’s a gangster, and all but his feelings for her make it hard for him not to worry about her. I’m gone keep the phone in one hand and my gun in the other.

Say that! Skelter shouts back, not once looking back at him.

-2-

Newark, New Jersey

A forensics team of men and women spread out throughout the abandoned cemetery. They’re searching high and low. Some crawl on their knees like they’re partaking in an Easter egg hunt. Others are climbing over the junk that is scattered around. With every inch of this soil filled with graves there’s no more value here. This cemetery is now used as a dumping site. Trash, old stoves, and old refrigerators are laid out everywhere. Dead bodies are buried under the dirt, but it’s safe to assume that some dead bodies are probably on top of the soil and covered by rubbish.

A young Black woman stands inside the mausoleum, staring in deep thought. The beautiful brown bombshell looks like one of the infamous social media influencer girls with curvy hips and a ginormous ass packed onto a petite frame. Her exaggerated breasts add a cartoonish effect to her. A long Malaysian weave drops down her back, making her look like a beautiful brown babydoll. Full lips and baby doll eyes are all a compilation of her beauty. Here she stands picture-perfect, thanks to the seventy-thousand dollars she’s invested in cosmetic surgery. From a BBL and breast implants to veneers and lip augmentation, there’s not much she hasn’t touched on.

She’s Dressed in retro Jordan 1’s, $550 Tom Ford leggings, a cropped fox fur jacket, a $600 Balmain t-shirt, and topped off with a $4,000 Bottega Veneta crossbody bag. With all these designers running concurrent, one would think her to be a designer label chasing, scammer, or ghetto celebrity whose only goal is to find a wealthy drug dealer to take care of her, but in no way is that accurate. She’s from the ghetto and maybe a label chaser, but she isn’t sitting back waiting for a man to provide them for her. She has bigger goals and aspirations. She’s a girl from Newark who wants more out of life and is working hard to get it.

Lucy Robinson is a 28-year-old private investigator. At a young age, Lucy realized how much of a true leader she was. She’s always been popular, a social butterfly that everyone wanted to be around. She naturally learned how to use her popularity to her advantage. She knew how much the people wanted to be linked to her, and she used that as the bait to get people to do whatever she wanted and get what she needed from them.

At a very young age, she lived a life of crime. She’s had her hands in everything from scamming to dealing drugs. With so many people around her at her disposal, she rarely had to get her hands dirty. She’s mainly known for connecting people and being the liaison to make great things happen, and in doing that, she was always paid a hefty broker’s fee.

Her ability to connect dots and connect people made everyone tease her about being a crime boss or a mafia princess, and that is what earned her the nickname Lucy Luchiano, Lucci for short. Although she still holds onto the nickname, she’s given up the life of crime. For the past couple of years, she’s been working diligently as an investigator. In no way is the money compared to what she’s used to earning, but she’s determined to be a top investigator, and that’s the inspiration that drives her every day. It’s been a tough transition, and on so many days, she’s ready to give up, but she doesn’t want to return to her old ways. She feels she deserves so much more and plans to get everything she feels she deserves and more.

Lucci steps out of the mausoleum, eyes scouring the ground. She’s searching for a lead, anything she may have overlooked on her way inside. She looks over the cemetery at the forensics team, all working rigorously. She leans back against the mausoleum with her thoughts on a zillion. As she looks around, her mind is as cluttered as the abandoned, junk-ridden cemetery.

She pulls a Black and Mild from her inside pocket and starts to champ it. This is an old habit that has always helped her relieve stress. She knows this isn’t a good look for her image and has been trying to stop, but now she can’t help herself. It’s not just the smoking part that relieves her stress; the deep concentration exerted in the champing process takes her mind off of whatever is boggling it. Once she finishes, she lights the tip and takes a huge pull. She exhales slowly.

This investigation assignment is undoubtedly her biggest job in all her two years of investigating. She’s stressed out because she realizes how much is on the line. If she can pull this off, she’s sure her stock will rise, and she will be one of the state’s top investigators. The only thing is this case is airtight, not giving her one crack to slip through.

She leans her head back and watches the smoke ascend in the air. Miss Robinson! a voice screams excitedly in the distance. Lucci stands erect, staring in the direction of her name being called. A man waves her on with excitement, and Lucci takes off and trots over. Team members run in from every direction. They spread out, inviting Lucci into the crowd. The team member points to the ground, Lucci zooms in, and all she sees is dirt.

What? Lucci asks.

You don’t see it? Numbers. It looks like a serial number.

Lucci’s heart races. Yes. I see it, she says as she pulls her phone from her pocket. She starts snapping pictures. What she captures, she hopes to be a severe lead that will open things up for her in this case and her future. Lucci gallops away from the crowd, leaving them at work. She hops into the luxurious white Range Rover with the bleeding red gut. She starts dialing as she seats herself.

Collins Avenue, Miami

The lava-orange Sport Classic Limited Edition Porsche 911 speeds along Collins Avenue. This beauty of a machine looks like a race car that should be on a track with the number 72 printed boldly on the doors. Instead, it’s Attorney Tony Austin pulling up to the Porsche Design Tower. The 72 represents Tony’s birth year, and this $300,000 automobile was a gift he bought himself on his last birthday. Also, on his last birthday, he beat one of the biggest cases of his career. For every win, he gets himself a trophy, and this automobile was another trophy added to his mantlepiece.

Tony may have a few places that he calls home, but this spot he has here in Miami is where his heart is. The 60-story skyscraper building overlooks the beautiful Sunny Isles Beach. Tony drives into the garage and cruises slowly until he reaches the elevator door, which opens and invites his car inside. He answers his phone on FaceTime as the elevator ascends. With a dazzling smile, Tony stares at the display. Hey, pretty one, he chirps.

Lucci blushes like a teenage girl in the presence of her crush. I got some good news, I think, she says with very little confidence.

You think? You can’t think. You have to know. I keep telling you that we don’t deal with uncertainty. Erase any doubt that you have in your mind. Uncertainty is throwing the dice and hoping to win. We deal with confidence. Throwing the dice and knowing we will win, he says as he shakes his hand over his head like he’s shaking dice.

I’ll reprogram you to understand that we don’t deal with doubt. We deal with confidence and knowing that we will always win. Now with that being said, do you know you have something, or do you think you have something?

Lucci takes a pull of her Black and Mild. She quickly removes her hand away from the camera with a look of embarrassment on her face.

Still smoking those things, huh, Tony asks with disappointment. I thought you were done with those. Lucci sits back like a child being scolded. You look stressed. He pauses. Listen, if this is too much for you, now is the time to stop. Either you are cut out for this, or you’re not.

Lucci cuts him off. No, I got this. Trust me.

Lucci needs this more than she needs air to breathe. She sees it as an honor to work next to the world’s most prominent attorney as she sees him. He didn’t choose her for the job. She chose herself. When Tony held the nationwide press conference declaring war against the government, she was among the millions of viewers. The moment the conference was off-air, she picked up the phone and attempted to contact him.

It was almost impossible to reach him, yet she didn’t stop. When all else failed, she found out about a cigar lounge where he smoked, and she went there every day until she eventually caught up with him. When she approached him, she had a bottle of his favorite Scotch and a box of his favorite cigars in hand as a gift. Her only request was that he hear her out while they smoke a cigar and sip on Scotch.

During that smoke session, she poured her soul out to him, telling him how much of an honor it would be for her to come along with him on this case. She told him she wanted it more than she needed it, which made him give her the opportunity. She had no idea it would be this complex, but she’s up for the challenge even though her spirits have gotten low.

I told you this was different from the cheating spouses cases you’re used to, Tony says. This is an altogether different level of the game. When you first came along for this journey, I didn’t need you. As you know, I could’ve brought anyone along for this ride. My phone was ringing with top investigators from all across the world, who were looking for their big break, he says arrogantly.

This was more for you than it was for me, he claims. I chose you because I come from the hood like you. And I know sometimes all a hood motherfucker needs is a break, and I chose to give you a break that nobody ever gave me, he says with piercing eyes.

If this is too much, you can bow out now, he says with a smile. But if you stay after this conversation, I will start to have expectations. And once I have expectations, I will depend on you for results. This case is detrimental. My life, career, my body of work, years of practicing law, and possibly my freedom are all on the line. So, I ask you for the final time, are you staying or returning to your level of comfort?

Lucci exhales. I appreciate you giving me a way out, but I’m not looking for a way out. I’m looking for a way in. The only out I’m looking for is a way for you to get out of this mess. Look, when I say I got a nig…. I’m sorry, she says apologetically. When I say I got you, I really got you. I know all that’s on the line for you, and I’m gone do whatever it takes to get this off your back. I’m going to handle your life as I handle my own. Know that, she says confidently.

Tony nods with a smile. "I like the sound of that. I will be back in town on Thursday. We can do lunch so you can tell me what you think you have for me. You know I don’t trust these phones, so be sure to keep whatever it is under your hat until we get together."

Say less, Lucci says before catching herself. I meant, see you then.

And throw that thing out, Tony says sternly. It takes so much away from you. I’m about to level you up, he says, smiling from ear to ear.

They end the call just as Tony reaches the 18th floor. The elevator stops, and the doors open. The lift slides his car slowly and parks it next to the black Rolls Royce Dawn with the orange gut already parked inside the glass bubble. Tony steps out of the bubble right into the living room of his luxurious apartment. In his hand, he holds a bouquet of roses. He looks over his shoulder into the bubble lit up with the lights bouncing off the candy paint. It’s like having a car show in the middle of his living room.

As Tony bends the corner, he spots the nude Miranda, standing at the huge window, appreciating the view as she indulges in a glass of red wine. She glances over her shoulder, flashing a smile at him. Tony hugs her from behind before handing her the roses. He plants a kiss on her neck as he embraces her nakedness. Thank you, Lovey, she says gratefully. She hands her glass of wine over to him. They kiss over the glass before he takes a sip.

How was your flight, babe? Miranda asks.

Great as usual, Tony replies. He stares at the beautiful view of Sunny Isles Beach with beautiful palm trees. His pleasant expression distorts. He points to his left, where the nose of the black Suburban peeks slightly around the edge of the building. A black Tahoe pulls nose to nose with it. Federal agents exit the vehicles and gather in a huddle. My guests, Tony says with a smile. The Suburban tailed me from the heliport. Before I jumped on the highway, the Tahoe took over from there.

Miranda shakes her head sadly. Baby, you don’t get tired of this? You don’t get tired of them following you around? You’re not afraid of how all of this may go?

Tony shrugs his shoulders. Nah. Are you?

I can’t sit here and lie to you, Miranda replies. I do worry about you. I worry about us. Life has been tense, and it feels like the walls are closing in on us. They follow you everywhere. They follow me everywhere. I’m a prisoner in my own home. I’m scared to leave the house because I know they are going to tail me. My anxiety kicks in as soon as I get outside of the building. I can’t even scratch my ass without thinking. I know they saw that.

Tony chuckles. Let me scratch it for you, he says as he palm grips a handful of her naked ass. Listen, ma, you already know this shit comes with the game. The game that both of us signed up for. One of the reasons I chose you to be the First Lady is because this here life I live ain’t for the faint at heart. For one to understand some shit, they have had to have been through some shit. Both of us are used to operating at high frequencies, right?

Yes, you’re right, Miranda replies.

I know I am, he says arrogantly. One day, we will wake up, and all of this will be over, to my victory or loss. Either way, I’m cool with it. When I declared war against them, I knew exactly what life could be like for me. We talked about this. Don’t get weak on me now, please, Tony pleads.

I’m not getting weak, and I’m just worried, Miranda says. This pressure is a lot on both of us.

Tony stares at Miranda unbothered. Hey, when the pressure becomes too much for the average person, that’s when it gets just right for us.

-3-

Trenton, New Jersey

Youngest Godson paces in a fury, hands covering his eyes so no one can see the tears. Skelter and Eldest Godson stand shoulder to shoulder as their imagination runs wild. They can only imagine the torture Middle Godson must have gone through. They promise themselves that the opposition will feel tenfold whatever pain he felt.

Jay-Black walks up next to Skelter. They gone pay for this, he whispers. Ain’t no way this call gone go unanswered. Bro didn’t deserve this. They violated Bro. Skelter looks over at him without uttering a word. She quickly looks back to her focal point. Just tell me what you need me to do, and it’s done.

I need you to get me a garbage bag, Skelter says rudely.

Jay-Black walks away in the direction of an approaching customer, leaving Skelter sulking in her rage. Jay-Black pulls a few bills from his pocket. Go get me some garbage bags, he says as he hands the bills to the man. As the man takes off, Jay-Black pulls his phone from his pocket. He texts as fast as he can. Hurry up. She’s right here. I don’t know how long I’m gone be able to hold her here.

Jay-Black stares at the phone, waiting impatiently for a reply. The dope addict interrupts his train of thought. Here, he says, practically shoving the box of garbage bags into J-Black’s hand. He holds a few bills, hoping Jay-Black will allow him to keep the change.

Can I keep the change?

How much is it?

Five dollars, the man replies. This blessing seems to have fallen on his lap. He came here on E, needing a bag of dope, but he had no money, and he walked right into a store run.

Yeah, you can keep it, Jay-Black replies. Just as the man’s eyes liven up at the thought of being able to get a bag of dope, Jay-Black snatches the bills from the man’s hand. You owed me four dollars, he says as he peels a bill from the rest. He hands the dollar bill over to the man. Now we even.

Come on, Black, nawl man, he pleads. I’m sick, man. Come on, Black, I got you, man.

Jay-Black steps off and walks over to Skelter. She grabs the box, opens it, and pulls a bag from it. She fans it open and hands it over to Eldest Godson. She quickly unfolds another one, calls Youngest Godson over, and hands him the bag. I’m gone pull the car over here, she says as she walks away.

Jay-Black trails at her heels. Yo, I meant what I said. We haven’t always gotten along, but I always respected your movement. Say what you want me to do and consider it done.

Skelter turns around as she grabs hold of the door handle. I need your eyes and your ears. Anything you hear or see that look out of pocket, I need you to tap in.

That goes without saying, he says. I’m talking about getting my hands dirty. I want in on the action. Niggas violated, and somebody got to be held accountable.

And they will be, Skelter snaps back before getting into the car. It’s funny to me how motherfuckers could come back here and dump all of that without nobody seeing shit. That’s just weird to me.

Man, I was thinking the same shit. They had to come out here real late to get that off, Jay-Black says before looking at his phone. He still has no reply to his text. Skelter speeds off, and he becomes more impatient. Fuck, he thinks to himself.

Skelter pulls the black Lincoln Aviator right in front of the Godsons. In Youngest Godson’s hands, wrapped in a garbage bag, are the remains of their brother. He carries the bag with gentleness because it’s sacred to him. Youngest Godson lays the bag in the trunk gently and closes the trunk even more gently. Skelter gets out of the driver’s seat and makes her way to the backseat while Eldest Godson takes the driver’s seat. Once Youngest Godson is in the passenger’s seat, Eldest Godson speeds off, burning rubber.

Jay-Black flags them down, trying to get them to stop. Just as Eldest Godson is about to stop, Skelter speaks. Man, fuck him. Eldest Godson cuts the wheel at him as if he’s about to run him over, and Jay-Black jumps back out of the way. Eldest Godson swerves around him and mashes the gas pedal harder.

-4-

Hours Later

Jay-Black steps into the back room of the liquor store. Standing in front of him is a young Dominican who doesn’t even acknowledge his entrance, and neither does the other two Dominicans who stand on opposite sides of the doorway. Jay-Black eyes both the men on each side of him. They both look straight off the boat, with wooly hair and are shabbily dressed. The man standing before him is much more Americanized, shining like new money. The man in front of Jay-Black speaks. Yo, he says with no excitement.

What happened, yo, Jay-Black asks angrily. I waited for you to hit me back. I had her right there. We could’ve got this over and done with.

I was tied up, the man replies.

You have to be on point when I hit you, Jay-Black says. We can’t play with this bitch. The faster we get it over with, the better, he says with emphasis. He looks around at the men, hoping they get his point. You brought that with you?

Jay-Black knows how badly they want Skelter, and he uses that to his advantage. For quite some time now, he’s been buying grams of cocaine from the Dominicans in the liquor store, and they have built a pretty solid rapport. The Dominican store owner introduced him to these Dominicans, the main one being Quabo’s younger brother.

Neither set of Dominicans is connected in any way except race. The Dominicans, unlike Blacks, seem to stand together in unison. Although they didn’t know each other, they all share the same love and pride for their race. That is the sole reason why when Quabo’s family called on them for their assistance in the matter, they had no problem with aiding.

Quabo’s brother came to the men in the liquor store asking if they had information on Skelter. They explained that they did not know much of her or her whereabouts, but they knew of someone who may. Unbeknown to them, Jay-Black has a deep hatred for Skelter, but when they found out that it was perfect in their eyes. They linked Jay-Black with Quabo’s brother. With J-Black knowing how badly they want Skelter, he figured he could use it to his advantage and work out a business deal in the process.

Quabo’s brother looks over to the man on the left and gives him a head-nod. The man then hands Jay-Black two sleeves of dope(5 bricks to a sleeve). Alright, bet. Give me two days, and I will be done, Jay-Black says confidently.

"But, if I hit you before that, you have to be ready. I got a feeling she gone be hanging around a few days, and we need to get this done. I knew this would bring her out, but now that