Rollin' With The BNP

My hand was red and aching from having slapped the piss out of Snookie. I stomped back to my 2025 Rolls-Royce Ghost which is worth way more than that chick could ever have access to in her life. I threw open the door and climbed in the luxurious and spacious backseat. I slammed the door in Darius’s face. He had caught up to me, but not in enough time to have closed the door for me. He hustled to the driver’s seat, started the engine and pulled off. 

I shouted, “I can’t believe that bitch! I gave her one thing to do. She had one job and she couldn’t do it.” 

I moved my hands every which way as I let out steam. “Get him comfortable and knocked out, and then take off with the badge. But no. She gets just as drunk and high as he did.” 

I took off my Gucci sunglasses. “And as soon as he sobers up, he leaves her passed out across the bed. He didn’t even pay. Damn triflin’ cheapskate. Now, Snookie has to work double to get me my money and to get back in good graces with me.”

I watched the back of Darius’s head as he drove. He shook his head as he listened to me. He had grown accustomed to my ranting and raving every time something goes wrong in my line of business. 

“I’ll have to come up with another way to get the badge, so I can set up Detective Watkins and take him down for good. I can’t have that dirty cop breaking down the operation I built up. Who the hell does he think he is?!” 

I felt the car slowing to a halt.

“Boss, look over there.” Darius pointed out the window at Double D.

Double D is one of the most ruthless and wealthiest drug dealers in this city. It is rumored that he has the largest operation in the region with a connect to a Mexican cartel. He makes my brothels and trap houses look like child’s play. 

Everyone talks about this unique type of cannibus called volcano that Double D’s boys are selling on almost every corner. It is supposed to be more powerful than anything sold in any of the dispensaries. If I get rid of Double D, I could expand my business by taking his product and maybe even some of his soldiers. I knew that all of them were not loyal to him anyway. 

Double D was at a distance across the street. He was talking to a couple of his boys. I stared at him through my extra dark tinted window. There was no better opportunity than in that moment to catch him off guard and to send him to his maker. 

“Darius, roll up real slow and at the count of three, you know what to do.” I put my shades back on.

“I got you.” He put the car in drive and eased in the direction of Double D and his crew.

“One.” I yanked my 9 from my waistband.

“Two.” I rolled down my window and aimed at Double D.

“Three.” I pulled the trigger as Darius sped down the street. 

My gunshots entered the atmosphere. There was scrambling, more gunshots, chaos and screaming. I saw Double D fall to the ground with his gun still in hand, firing shots into the air. 

Darius swung the car around the corner like we were in an action film. We got the job done without any of the opposing bullets hitting my ride. I could care less if Double D’s crew knew it was my car or not because either way I would become their boss and earn much more respect in these streets. 

Darius and I rolled around the city for most of the afternoon. I laid back and relaxed to the sound of Miles Davis playing on the radio that Darius turned on for me. I love jazz, but not as much as my cigar I was smoking to relieve my nerves. The smell of it mixed with the earthy scent of my car’s leather interior carried me into a heavenly intoxication. 

Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta by Geto Boys played from my cell phone and killed my vibe. 

“Hello?”

“B, what’s up?”

“What’s up, Mark Dog? What you got for me?”

“Man, I just washed, dried and folded a couple loads. And now I’m headed back home.”

“Bet. Did you remember to separate the white clothes from the colored clothes?”

“Yep. You know I wouldn’t forget to do that.”

“Bet. Check ya later.”

“Later, man.”

Whenever I speak with my comrades over the phone, we use code just in case the Feds are listening. The conversation Mark Dog and I had was about the weekly laundering of my money.

Just as I ended my phone conversation, my attention went to my niece Xana. She was crossing the street and passed my car that had stopped at a red light. She was holding hands with some ugly, little boy I did not recognize. Xana is only twelve years old. She has no business messing with nasty boys. I needed to protect her. 

“Darius, roll all the windows down.” 

He obeyed.

“Xana! Xana!” I yelled out.

She stopped once she crossed the street and she turned around. As soon as she recognized it was me calling her from the backseat of my car, she let go of the boy’s hand. She walked toward my car, leaving behind the boy who blinked with puppy dog eyes.

“Oh. Hey, Auntie B.” She looked like she had seen a ghost.   

“What are you doing with that lil’ boy?”

“Nothing. He’s just a friend from school.”

“Yeah, well, a friend is all he’ll be. Are you on your way home from school right now?”

Here I was trying to be the responsible adult role model to my niece and I had forgotten about the things I had done earlier.

“Yeah. He was just walking with me.”

“Hey boy!” I took off my sunglasses, so I could look him in the eyes.

“Ye-yes?” He trembled as he walked to the car. 

I locked eyes with him. “What’s your name?”

“Willy.”

“Willy, be nice to my niece. You walk her home and then you go home. You understand?”

“Ye-yes, sir. Uh, I mean, ma’am. Sorry. Yes, ma’am.” The tone of his voice went from tenor to soprano. He backed away from the car. 

“Xana, text me when you get home and don’t you let that boy in the house either.”

“I’m not. Bye.” She waved, turned around and walked up the street with Willy.

“Bye, Xana. I love you.”

I slipped my shades on and leaned back. Behind us was some person honking their horn like crazy. I wanted to get out and introduce them to my little friend as Scarface would have said. Instead, I told Darius to continue to my domain. I preferred that word to crib. 

For the rest of the way, I made a few phone calls for updates from my partners in crime. I received the text from Xana stating she had arrived home. It put a smile on my face.

When I saw we were approaching the tall, black iron gates up ahead, a peace fell over me. Living in a gated community was the only solstice I had from the mean streets that made me. So far, I had managed to stay away from the other iron barriers where I know I should rightfully be. I know I do not deserve his mercy, but God still shines his light on me. Maybe there really is a heaven or at least some sort of purgatory for gangstas like me. Although, I am not trying to arrive at the pearly gates anytime soon.

We pulled into the roundabout driveway of my 8,000 square foot mansion. I straightened the platinum herringbone necklace that hung around my neck. It held the letters of my street name, The BNP. The story behind my name would be preserved for a later time. 

Darius came around and opened my door. I was ready to climb out the car and stretch my legs. I had had a full gangsterific day. It was time to get some rest, so I could wake up refreshed and ready to get into some more action tomorrow.

END