The Golden Hustla Page 5

  “Nina, you still the same girl. You better grow up and let bygones be bygones and get this money. You know you want to,” he said, as if he were reading her mind.

  “Give me the info, Cream.”

  He knew he had her.

  “Not so fast. We gotta do this my way. Give me your phone.” He held out his hand for her phone.

  “Just give me the info, Cream.” Nina was getting impatient.

  So was Cream. He snatched her phone out of her hand. “Here. I’m putting my number into your phone. When I call you, you better answer. I’ll meet you back here on your lunch break.”

  “I get off at seven, Cream. Let’s just meet then. I’m not going to have time to come here, talk to you and be back in an hour.”

  He thought briefly about it and then said, “Aiight then, bet.”

  Nina did not like the excitement in his voice and attitude. Something was definitely up but for now she could play his game. “Can I have my license back now?”

  “When we meet back here at seven, we’ll talk about that.”

  She stood up, looked down at him and started to go off but decided it could wait. “Bitch ass nigga,” she mumbled under her breath as she stormed away from him.

  As soon as she disappeared, he dialed his girlfriend Diamond. “Yo, baby, you don’t have to worry about taking that job. I got somebody to fill that spot.”

  “I wasn’t worried. Who did you get?”

  “What the fuck you mean you wasn’t worried? I should make your ass take it just on g.p.”

  “Cream, don’t start. I’m going on seven months and you talking about taking some damn job,” Diamond said in disbelief.

  “This shit is important. I see you ain’t the ride-or-die chick you professed to be. I needed you to do one simple fuckin’ thing for us and you couldn’t even do that.”

  “I’m going on seven months, Cream!” Diamond yelled in an attempt to force him to understand.

  “You wasn’t going on seven months when I first asked you this shit.”

  “Cream, you got yourself into this mess. Why do I have to be responsible for bailing you out?”

  “Bitch, you know what? Nah, fuck it.” He hung up on her.

  He dialed his partner in crime, Mo. “Yo, Mo, you ain’t going to believe this. I just ran into Nina. I’m good now!” Mo knew Nina from Jersey. He knew she was ride or die and could understand Cream’s excitement.

  Back at APS, Nina could hardly focus. Triple than what I’m making now? I could send for my kids and move to a bigger apartment. Better yet, a house! And running into Cream? He was one of them thug niggas that was a cheat, loser and asshole all wrapped into one. But he could fuck you into a coma. And that had always been Nina’s weakness. A long, hard and some superior dick. Running into him was already taking her off her square. She watched the clock on the wall hoping for more time. Something she never did. She was always on point on the job.

  “Nina, are you all right?” Maggie, the floor supervisor stopped by her desk and asked her. Maggie glanced up at the clock. “It’s five thirty. You usually are more focused and have your quota by this time. Is everything cool?”

  “Maggie, I just ran into my ex and I’m spooked. This nigga is supposed to be in Jersey somewhere. How did he end up in the same place with me?” Nina spoke in hushed tones.

  “Didn’t I tell you Georgia was small as hell? You believe me now, don’t you? And guess what? This seems to be the place where everyone migrates. It’s crazy,” Maggie told her as she squeezed Nina’s shoulder. She then went to the front of the room, stopped and turned around. She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and pinned it to the corkboard. “This is for the next person to make a sale. C’mon, people, time to hustle! Shift’s almost over!” She clapped her hands together for emphasis.

  “You might as well bring that twenty right over here, Maggie,” Nina announced.

  “Uh-oh. Do I hear a challenge?” She turned to Nina’s competition. “Sammie, you don’t have anything to say about that?” Maggie wanted to get the salespeople on the floor hyped up.

  “I’m already at the top of the board. That twenty is actually mines,” Sammie teased.

  “You won’t be there for long. You know that’s my spot and I only allowed you to be there because I felt sorry for you,” Nina teased right back.

  That comment got oohs, aahs and snickers from the entire room.

  “Okay, simmer down, people. And work those phones,” Maggie interrupted. “But who thinks Nina can take her spot back, raise their hand.” Everybody raised their hands, including Sammie’s girlfriend. When he smacked her hand down everyone burst into laughter.

  “See there, Sammie. I rest my case.” Nina stood up and curtsied.

  By the end of the shift, Nina and Sammie were tied.

  Nina sat in the back of the Starbucks drumming her fingertips on the table. Cream was almost a half hour late, but she sat glued to that seat for several reasons. For one, she didn’t know what he was up to and her curiosity was piqued. She didn’t know if he’d make good on his threat to sell her out to the Bloods back in Jersey. Nina knew enough about the Blood Organization to know that they had become the largest street gang in America and simply didn’t give a fuck about anything or anybody. Just the thought of niggas dressed in all red gunning at her on the streets of Atlanta terrified her to no end. But most of all, she didn’t doubt for one second that Cream was vindictive enough to violate the “no snitching street code” and rat her out to the cops about the murder she committed back in Jersey. Secondly, she needed her license and social security card back. Last but not least the possibility of her making hustle money, legally? That had piqued her interest the most. After all she was discreetly on the lookout for a come-up. And of course Cream knew what buttons to push. Hell, after two years together, she knew what buttons to push of his as well. With a good fuck and a blow job she used to be able to get whatever she wanted from him. Even down to the location and keys to his stash spot. She never stole from him, all she ever did was upgrade his ass. Hell, she put him on the map.

  They both were muling for this dread named Wicked who was head over heels for Nina. He kept saying she was the real Janet Jackson and he was infatuated with her. Every time he saw her he would stare at her like she was a piece of prime rib. He always made her very uncomfortable. He would tell Cream, “You betta not slip, boy, not even a likkal bit me a be right here to snatch up that punnany.”

  Nina held Wicked’s attention while Cream and his boy Mo stole a shit load of his weed. In their haste they had taken the wrong package. They had left the dope behind. However, the weed was still the beginning of Cream’s come-up and he and Nina were Bonnie and Clyde from that point forward.

  Months later, Cream wanted to strike again but this time for the dope. Nina was down but once again things didn’t go as planned. Cream and his boys got away, leaving her caught red-handed. Wicked held her captive for almost two weeks, torturing her sexually. The only reason he didn’t kill her was because he really had a thing for her. But that didn’t stop him from making her fuck and suck him to pay off the debt. If Nina didn’t know why they called him Wicked, by the end of her captivity she found out. The entire time he held her captive, she wore a metal dog chain around her neck and when he would fuck her, just as she started cumming he would tighten the chain, cutting off her oxygen supply to heighten her orgasm. During the day she crawled around the house on all fours and he kept his dick in her mouth, even when he was conducting business. If she acted like she was tired, he would say, “Wa ya not se cum and mash up me rod.” And then he would yank at her leash.

  One night Nina didn’t know whether to laugh or scream when he came into the bedroom wearing latex and chains. He would tie her up and continuously pour hot wax all over her nipples and clit. And each time before a sexcapade, he would chant the words of Shabba Ranks, “Me a bad, bad and a wicked in the bed, wicked bad and bad in the bed now all the girls tell all the guys that I’ma wicked.”


  For hours he would beat her with whips that had fine pins on them. Nina’s ass was raw, she couldn’t bear to sit on it. He would make her straddle him sore and then demand, “Let push back your blood clot ting.”

  If she wouldn’t ride him hard, he would slide out of her pussy and force himself into her ass until she could no longer scream. When she was done he would make her suck him off until her tongue was numb. If she thought about stopping, he would say, “Don’t make me haf to jook pon ya face.” She didn’t know what that meant but the way he would growl it she didn’t want to find out. So she would suck him off as if her life depended on it.

  Another night he told her, “Let me get pon yor bumpa.” He swallowed some stay-hard and fucked her doggy-style, until she bled. He did that for about two hours real rough while her hands and legs were tied down and mouth gagged. The last night he used an anal probe with beads on it and jacked off while he watched Nina’s pain and ejaculated all over her face and hair. When she got back home it took weeks to heal and rid her skin of his body odor. And as for her pain, to this day it never went away because every time she thinks of him, she gets sick to her stomach. The whole time she was recovering, she couldn’t find Cream. It was always in the corner of her mind, Did he make a deal with the devil? When she got out and about she went looking for him and he was riding some ho around in her car. That was the first time she caught him doing that. The second time she caught him was when she cut him off. So as far as she was concerned the dope was more hers than it was his.

  She took a sip of her latte and cringed. Why did I waste my money on this high-priced caffeine? It never tastes good and I’m nauseous after a couple of swallows. Nina got up, dropped the latte into the trash and ordered her favorite.

  “Yo, Nina, get me an orange juice and two slices of cake,” Cream yelled out as if he just entered into the local bar.

  “I’ll order it, but this time you pay for your own shit,” Nina told him.

  “Girl, please. I’m about to put you up on something big and you trippin’ over five dollars? I’m insulted.”

  “Seven dollars, nigga. Now pay for your shit and come and sit down. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Well damn. What’s with the attitude? If you weren’t finer than the day I met you, and hadn’t stolen my coke, I’d tell you to kick rocks,” he teased.

  Nina rolled her eyes at him and went to her table. Cream told the cashier to add another slice of cake to his order, paid for everything, grabbed a straw and some napkins before joining Nina. As soon as he sat down, he immediately began to wolf down his cake. She could smell the weed on him, and the way he housed the slices of cake, there was no doubt that he had the munchies. She leaned back into her chair, took a sip of her Frappucino and studied Cream. I actually used to be head over heels over this cheatin’, slimy-ass nigga? How did I end up, way in Atlanta, Georgia, sitting across from him? Why am I even entertaining the thought of considering any proposition he comes up with?

  “Okay, listen.” Cream interrupted her disgusting thoughts of him. “Since you comfortable with selling shit, then this should be a piece of cake. No pun intended,” he said, wiping the crumbs off his mouth. “And Nina, do this shit, take it serious and you can get paid. I mean major paid.” He flailed his arms around for emphasis.

  “What am I selling?”

  “Yo, Montblanc pens, golden brass calculators, golden brass key chains, all engraved with the business owner’s slogan or business name.”

  “Pens?” Nina interupted in disbelief.

  “Yo, you know how much a Montblanc pen cost? Them shits cost damn near two or three hundred dollars.” Cream didn’t give her time to answer his question. “Now hear me out. They buy the product and then that automatically enrolls them into some kind of million-dollar promotion for gold coins. Them greedy crackers be spendin’ guap. Fifteen, twenty-five, fifty g’s in a clip!” Cake crumbs were Flying off of Cream’s lips.

  “So what do you get out of this deal?”

  “What?”

  “I know you, Cream. What do you get out of hooking me up? You got me fucked up if you think yo gonna be pimpin’ me.”

  That sneaky-ass familiar smirk appeared on his lips. “I told you. You owe me. You put me in a fucked-up situation when you took my coke. I almost got killed. That’s how I ended up down here. After I paid the shit back, it was either my life or get the fuck outta Jersey. I left my clientele and everything. You cost me big-time, Nina. You set me back big-time. Them ten keys was just the beginning of the snowball effect. They wanted me to tell them where you was, but I didn’t know. So they made me eat the loss, with hella interest.”

  “Are you finished, nigga?” Nina snapped. “Do you have any idea what I went through for damn near two weeks?” Nina screamed out, causing everyone to look over in their direction. “I think that makes us even. As far as I’m concerned your ass owes me! So now what?” Nina folded her arms across her chest, daring him to say the wrong thing, but knowing Cream the way she did, he would.

  “Don’t even try that bullshit. You stayed with that nigga because ya wanted to.”

  “You slimy muthafucka!” She hauled off and slapped the shit out of him. Catching him completely by surprise.

  “Bitch, you done lost your mind.” He liked the fact that he was now under her skin. He had her right where he wanted her. He touched the cheek that she smacked and burst into laughter.

  “Cream, y’all probably flipped the shit you talking about ten fuckin’ times, minimum, so get your math together. You can add. So we are back to square one, where I don’t owe you shit, you owe me.”

  “I ain’t sweatin’ that. And yeah, you right,” he confessed. “I just need you to get this job and we will be even. You will earn my silence. Plus, you’ll be livin’ large in less than a month. You ain’t seen no hustle until you checked out the Golden Hustle. And Nina, you hit me again and I’ma fuck you up. But get this job and I’ll let you know after you get in there and get situated what’s next.”

  “Cream, what does that supposed to mean?”

  Cream grinned. “Nina, you ain’t even got the job yet. How about they don’t like you? Or what if you can’t sell the shit? Don’t you want to triple or quadruple what you’re making?”

  “Yeah, but at what cost?”

  “At what cost? You know you don’t give a fuck. That’s why you here. You about that paper. But all you got to do is get in there and do good and I’ll inform you of the next step.”

  “So that’s it?” Nina asked.

  “That’s it for now. Like I said, you got to get in there.”

  “Get in there and do what, Cream?”

  “Get in there and work, stack you up some paper.” He slid her license and social security card over to her. “I made a copy, so if you try any funny shit I know where to find you.”

  “And what if I don’t get the job?”

  “You don’t want to know the answer to that. So I suggest you get the job.” He started laughing. “I’m messin’ with you, girl. You’ll get the job.” He saw from the expression on her face that she was getting ready to go off. Cream stood up and looked at his watch. “I’m glad I ran into you. I swear, I would have never thought this would of happened. I got to go, but I’ll be in touch.”

  They ended up in the parking lot.

  “So what happened with dude from New York that you left me for? Where he at?”

  “Left you for? Me and you had been over way before I met him. Give me the info so I can set up an interview.”

  “What’s his name? Tyrese right? But the streets call him Reese.”

  Nina’s jaw dropped. How in the hell did Cream know so much of her business? Laughing, Cream said, “Close your mouth before a bug fly in it. You thought I didn’t know about your little boyfriend, huh? I told you that I followed you all over the city after my keys came up missing. I saw you all up in his arms after you left the scene of your brother’s shooting. That was the same night you went back out to Ewing and
mercked that bitch. I never knew you to carry a gun, Nina. He the one that gave you the gun, right? And you gave him my ten keys, didn’t you?”

  “Just give me the name and number of the person I’m supposed to be seeing.”

  “Oh, it’s like that?”

  “Cream, ask me about my business again and I’ma leave your ass standing here in this parking lot all by yourself,” Nina snapped.

  Before she left Jersey, she and Reese were only talking. They hadn’t even fucked until right before she left for good. So how did asshole here know all of her business, including his name? Why did he have to bring up that nigga’s name? Every time she thought about him her spirits sank into the bottom of nothingness. Why can’t I have someone to love? Why do I attract either the losers or somebody else’s man? Nina asked herself. For the next couple of months after Reese left her high and dry she was bummed out about Reese’s “I got a family” revelation. That shit had her down in the dumps and she felt like she would never, ever shake his ass. Then to make matters worse she had to run into this nigga. Could shit get any worse? She looked at him only to get reminded of how much he disgusted her.

  “Aiight, chill out.” Cream pulled out one of his business cards and wrote a name and number on the back.

  Nina snatched it out of his hands and headed for her car. Cream followed behind her.

  “Yo, I’ma do right by you this time. Believe what I’m telling you. And you need to leave those married niggas alone. Dude got a wife and kids.” Cream thought he was snitching Reese out.

  “I already know that. Thank you very much. Goodbye, Cream.” Nina jumped into her Volvo and pulled off not believing that Cream had resurfaced back into her life.

  After about two weeks Nina finally got an interview with WMM. She arrived at her interview a half hour early. She had on a simple Jones New York pantsuit and a pair of Nine West flats. She was buzzed in by the receptionist, who introduced herself as Deanna, and led to a small waiting room. Deanna handed her a clipboard with an application and several employment forms. She instructed Nina to fill them out and then told her someone would be with her shortly.