Fourteen

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Crooked

Fourteen

          Saint waited in his matte black Mercedes-Maybach S600 for the boys to come. Usually, Crook would get one of the loyal workers to drop off everybody's cut at their houses, or they would arrive at the trap house for their pay, but Saint insisted that he gave it to the two boys in person. He saw two figures walking up the block in the distance and thought it was possibly Leroy and Travante.

His guess was correct—he could clearly see it was them as they came closer in to view. Saint beeped his horn, so the boys would recognize that it was him. He instantly started smiling as soon as he rolled his window all the way down.

"My lil niggas Roy and Tre! How y'all been?" He asked even though it's only been a week since he had seen them.

"Good," The boys said in unison, smiling. Leroy rubbed his sweaty palms against his sweatpants, nervous. He had snuck out the house once again and he prayed that E didn't wake up from her slumber. He was hoping that nobody noticed him acting all scary, but Travante did, resulting in him to shoot Leroy a look.

All he was thinking about was the money that he would be receiving. He hoped they paid him a lot because he desperately needed it but once he did get the money, how was he gonna hide the shit from E?

Leroy was still going to have to act like he was broke and he couldn't buy too much shit for the house or else it would raise his sister's suspicions. He wished he could tell her the truth— that he initially made his money from drug dealing and now he was a certified "hitta," but he knew that wouldn't end well.

Fuck, Leroy thought to himself. Him and Travante had fell back on dealing drugs for a minute. They were trying to lay low in case anybody was looking for them after killing both Tone and Banko.

"Ya shit finally healed? Lemme see that shit man," Saint smiled, turning his attention towards Leroy, referring to his scar. The last time he had seen Leroy he had it bandaged up.

Leroy turned his head to the left, showing Saint his right cheek. "I think that shit look cool, Scar." Saint's smile was still on his face as he looked at him.

"Thank you." Leroy shyly smiled noticing the little nickname, as he tilted his head down. It made him feel a little better about his face. "Y'all ready for this bread tho?" Saint smiled at the kids. He knew he could've did them grimey and manipulated them by paying them a low amount of money, but he wasn't gonna do that because he was once in their shoes.

"Hell yea nigga!" Travante exclaimed, making Saint laugh.

"You know what, I like you kid," Saint smiled as he grabbed the two black Nike bags from the backseat.

Crook was so quiet that Leroy and Travante barely even noticed him sitting in the passengers' seat, their attention was all on Saint. Leroy locked eyes with Crook for a second. He noticed that every time he saw Crook, it looked like he had an attitude, and he was just plain ole' mean. Leroy quickly looked away, not wanting to look at the scary man for too long.

"Look, imma tell y'all this shit," Saint spoke. "Once I hand you the bag, look straight and start running."

"Wait wh—"" Travante began to speak, but got interrupted.

"Don't ask no questions, just do it."

Leroy and Travante quickly nodded their heads.

"O-oh okay, cool no problem." Travante tried to play it off like he ain't stuttered. His eyes darted over to the passenger's seat. "Oh, um hi Crook."

Crook looked at the young boy for a second. A grin slowly came across his face, "Wassup?" He greeted back. Travante tried to hide his excitement, still star-struck from the fact that his favorite drug dealer of all time said hi to him.

Leroy looked at Crook, surprised. That was the first time, and he was sure that it would be the last time, he ever saw him smile. He thought he was mean. Leroy quickly looked away again once Crook caught him staring at him.

Saint passed the first bag to Travante, who then handed it over to Leroy. Saint then passed the second bag to Travante.

"Now run! Run! Run!" Saint yelled at them, resulting in the boys to take off. The boys ran down the block, paranoid and around the corner, out of sight. Saint sat back in his seat, dying from laughter.

"You some dayroom nigga." Crook cut his eyes at his best friend as he shook his head. He knew Saint just did that to fuck with the young boys.

"Nigga lighten up! I had to fuck with them just a lil," Saint said, still laughing.

Crook sucked his teeth at him before he looked at his phone to see a missed call from Epiphany.
"Who that, nigga?" Saint asked, looking at Crook's iPhone. He felt like he heard the name before, but he couldn't quite remember where from. He had run into many different girls and fucked a huge variety on a weekly basis, that he wasn't sure if this was a girl he knew or somebody new.

"Why you being nosey?" Crook sucked his teeth again, hiding his phone screen. To be honest, he wasn't ready to tell Saint about Epiphany. He knew that Saint liked to circulate girls with him from time to time, but he wasn't trying to give off the impression that Epiphany was one of those girls. Crook knew that Saint had tried to run down on Epiphany before, but she had given him a fake phone number. He figured that he didn't have to speak on Epiphany being a new fling he was talking to because Saint wasn't serious about her from jump anyway.

"Ooooh I peep game! You got some new pussy that I don't know about?"

"What new pussy?"

"Oh ok nigga treat me like one of yo hoes, it's fine." Saint said acting like he was mad, pulling off.

Crook started laughing. "Whatever."

"But I'm glad you findin' a new bitch tho! I don't know how you can just only fuck two bitches, faithfully!"

"Cause I don't have to fuck every female I see." Crook said, referring to Saint's hoeish ways.

"Nigga, pussy is pussy. But make sure you do a background check on this one. Cause yo girl Shay is some crazy ass bitch."

"That's not my girl," Crook sucked his teeth.

"But nah nigga farreal tho," Saint said, turning right, going on to the Major Deegan Expressway. "Why you playin' with that girl? You know you could stop her pregnancy if you really wanted to."

"I'm not jackin' that's my baby."

"But what if it is tho?"

"Then I guess it's my baby." Crook said, not really caring.

"Nigga you buggin', I'll punch that bitch straight in her stomach if I was you."

"I guess." Crook wasn't stupid. He knew Shay was a hoe and he never fucked her without a condom. So, it was a high possibility that the child wasn't even his. And if it was, he would just get some girls from the hood that he knew to just jump her while she was pregnant.
"You see our savages tho!" Saint exclaimed, changing the subject.

"They're young," Crook commented, remembering their ages. He was impressed with the boys' work. "What are their names again?"

"Leroy and Travante. Yoo Leroy, the one with the scar, got crazy aim! All that lil nigga do is, give out headshots! You did a good job my nigga for hiring them."

Crook nodded, taking note of what Saint said.

"Wait... You think they the ones that—" Crook paused as he looked at Saint. He was referring to the murder of one of their henchmen named Banko. He was found beaten and shot to death in a Bronx alley almost two weeks ago. Crook suspected that he had gotten himself into some beef since he had a crazy mouth, but as he began to think, it made sense that the two boys were the ones that killed him. He assumed it was payback for him slicing Leroy's face.

Saint's eyes went wide for a minute before a smile slowly came across his face. "I respect it! We can't even be mad!"

Crook just sat in silence as Saint gloated. "They gon be a problem when they grow up, farreal!" Saint continued, in awe.

"Yeah they are." Crook agreed, peeping Leroy and Travante's game. He couldn't lie, he respected how the teenagers were able to put down a big nigga like Banko, but he couldn't help that it put a bad taste in his mouth. "But no funny shit, tell them to stay in their lane. If they gotta problem with somebody let me know. This the second nigga they done killed from our organization and you over here actin' like the shit cute."

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