One In A Milyon (Urban Fiction)

Chapter 3 | Money, Baby

Chapter 3 | Money, Baby

Present Day

  

   Milyon lay on her back, staring at the ceiling aimlessly. It had been ten years since that dreadful night, it was like a nightmare, and it was permanently engraved in her memory bank, haunting her. After that night, her and Mace spent several nights in the hospital, both suffering from concussions and minor second degree burns. Soon, she and her brother both were sent into temporary foster homes, separately. Mace had run away from the first temporary foster home he was placed into and had never been seen or heard from again. I miss my brother so much. Where are you Mace? Milyon thought.

   Milyon had run from a few foster homes too but only to return the very same night, she couldn't survive the loneliness that life had granted her, and definitely couldn't survive the streets. Milyon was now seventeen years old, even though she had gone through so much as a minor, she had grown into a beautiful young lady. She looked almost exactly like her mother, she had light, mocha - brown skin, slightly rounded face, dimples, which she inherited from her father, her eyes were a bright grey-brown, she had full, pink  lips, and a beautiful, unflawed smile. Her dark brown hair touched her lower back, but she'd been considering cutting it lately, she thought it was too much so she simply wore it in a ponytail. Milyon had a very well-proportioned body; standing at about five-five, she wore a C cup, had a flat stomach, small hips, and possessed a round, wide, apple bottom. To most, she looked very exotic like she was from the islands, she wasn't, but her mother was Bajan, and her father was Puerto-Rican, and African-American.  

   She was now living in a group home for teenage girls in the system, it was hell but it was home to her. She shared a room with a girl named Shy'Andrea Williams, who, at first, was her worst enemy but eventually became one of her closest friends. Someone had taken Milyon's silver cross necklace that her father had given her when she turned six, her brother had a similar one but it was more like a chain, which was the only thing they had in memory of their deceased father. Shy'Andrea had beat up the girl who stole it, and so did Milyon, they were tight ever since. 

***

Maceon

   Maceon Carter was now twenty one year's young. After he and his sister were separated, he began to not give a fuck about anything anymore. He knew he was never going to see his sister again, for all he knew, she was somewhere posted up in Utah, living with some corny ass black people. When they placed him in his first foster home, he ran away, after being there only one night. He refused to go back to a place where he was treated as though he was an outsider, like he was not a human being. He spent the rest of his nights at one of his friends' houses, or under a bridge somewhere. He had it embedded in his mind that fear did not exist, only if you allowed it to. His father taught him that, and he had carried it with him all his life and that is how he'd gotten thus far. He was a street nigga, he was a pure thoroughbred, between the knowledge that he gained from his father, and what he learned being out there for the past eleven years, he was definitely true to this shit, not new to this shit. He cruised down the street in his all black Audi A8, feeling like, and looking like money.

   His best friend, and right-hand man-- Cartier King was riding in the passenger seat. Cartier was a surely becoming king of his city; he had the streets on lock, moving nothing but the purest cocaine, and the deadliest heroin. Both men riding through the city, letting the breeze from outside hit them in the face, riding to Jay-Z's new Magna Carta album. They both were dressed in all black, the dress code that they've become accustomed to. Mace, standing at 6'2, resembling Trey Songz slightly, Mace's eyes were a piercing hazel green, his hair slightly curly, cut into a low hi-top, freshly lined up, he'd let his facial hair grow out and got it lined up, he was dressed in and all back, white, and grey Pink Dolphin t-shirt, black Levi cargo shorts, and black Adidas Crazy 8's. While, Carti, standing at 6'3, resembled rapper The Game, he was slightly lighter in complexion, light-caramel, he had soft light-brown eyes, his hair had a curly texture to it, he'd let it grow out a little, tapered on the sides and the back, his goatee was freshly lined and trimmed. Carti was rocking a black and white Crooks and Castles t-shirt, all black 501 Levi's, with Jordan retro eleven Concords, he was chilling today and wasn't trying to impress none of these niggas. It was close to eleven o'clock at night and they were still out here, handling business, on the grind, and getting money.

   Mace adjusted his position in the driver's seat. "I been fuckin' with ol' girl, Diamond from the club for a couple weeks now, she cool but I think that bitch want me to wife her and I ain't on none of that." Mace laughed, while looking from the road back to Carti.

   Carti chuckled. "Man, these females know what they be getting they self into before they even get a nigga number. Shorty probably tryna set yo' ass up, you never know." Carti and Mace shared a laugh. Carti was dead serious, he always told his soldiers to never let females get too close, don't be dumb, and never deal with them while you working.

   Mace nodded in agreement. "Shit, you right." Mace said and heard his phone vibrate in the cup holder. "Aye, this her callin' now." Mace stated.

   He answered the phone. "What up?" Mace spoke.

   "Hey baby, I miss you." Diamond's voice blared through the car speakers.

   Mace decided to brush that off. "Yea, I know. But I'ma hit you back later, I'm in the middle of somethin', a'ight?" Mace said, pulling up to their destination.

   "Okay, daddy, be safe." Diamond said and blew a kiss through the phone. Mace Laughed and hung up.

   They were moving pure cocaine, straight from Columbian soil, Carti's connect was a very generous man, Camilo Moreno, he'd known him since he was a child, through his uncle. Carti's paternal uncle, Julius King, was a kingpin once upon a time but his days of running the streets were now over, he was in prison facing twenty-five years for what he did best, moving weight. Carti's father, Leon King, basically hated Julius, Leon was a lawyer at one of the top firms in the city and he hated the fact that he was even related to someone who committed such illegal crimes.

   Carti's parents took very good care of him; he was not raised on the streets, he was spoiled and their only child. But when Carti's father died of cancer when Carti was six years old, things began to go downhill from there. His mother fell into a deep state of depression due to her husband's passing, he was the only man she'd ever loved, and she didn't even love her father as much as she loved Leon. When Carti was seven and a half years old, his mother committed suicide while Carti was at school, sleeping pills and anti-depressants was all it took to end her life, and she was found four hours later.

   After this tragic incident, Carti had no one else to take care of him besides his Uncle Julius, he looked up to his uncle, and Carti thought he was cool. Julius taught his nephew the game, step-by-step, as if, he got the information straight out of a handbook or manual. By the time Carti was seventeen, he knew everything there was to know about the game, his uncle showed him the ropes on the streets, he started as a corner boy, and slowly made his way to the top. Carti was twenty-one years old now, he was trying to come up, he loved getting money, he didn't like the way he had to get it but shit, he had to eat too. Carti was the definition of cool, calm, and collected, he didn't have a temper, but everyone knew he was about business. Carti didn't plan on spending the rest of his life selling death tickets to people's loved ones, he actually wanted to get married, have children, and live on an island somewhere but right now, he had no time for that.

   Maceon on the other hand, was a hot-head, this is why he and Carti were best friends, Carti knew Mace would have his back through anything; his trigger finger was always itching. Mace had grown to be a bit hostile towards people since he was young; he knew in order to show these niggas that he ain't to be played with, he would have to hold his own and put his foot down. But Mace wasn't always like that, he had a nice, fun, goofy side, he just didn't show it to anyone, he was all about the almighty dollar right now, he was determined to get out of the streets and go back to living good like he used to with is dad. He never wanted to be a kingpin or a powerful drug lord; he wanted to do shit with his life, he loved boxing and basketball, and once he saved up enough money he was going to enroll in college. Mace also wanted to find his sister, not a day went by when he didn't think about her, where she was, who she was with, and if she was being treated right. They were so close when they were younger, he missed her, but little did he know, she was closer than he thought. Mace and Carti were on their way to handle some business and money was definitely calling.