Page 5

Chapter Five

CHROME

B eing the head nigga in charge meant you had more responsibility than most.

I had kids who looked up to me and if I was being honest, some grown ass men, too.

I didn’t play about my position ‘cause I knew I earned it. The neighborhood needed stability and without the Black family handling shit, wasn’t no telling where these kids would be.

However, today was a day to let go…

for me anyway.

I had a race lined up.

A new crew from the east side wanted to challenge a nigga and I was all for it.

The Spencer bridge was slow at night, but it was also one of the longest.

It was perfect for racing.

Nothing serious was on the line other than a few racks.

Money would always be added to the equation if it wasn’t BMG against BMG.

The crowd was forming, and I knew this was something the folk been waiting on.

I didn’t have my ear to the streets ‘cause my folk had that covered but I could tell this was a conversation held already. Regal versus Chrome. Two young niggas showing what these bikes could really do.

Racing was something the gangs did to keep a stable mindset. Some of us were in situations we couldn’t control, and this was the only release.

The biker gangs were judge free zones which was why so many joined.

They would rather become a rider than a product of their environment and that pushed us to move different.

“Chrome! Chrome!”

I looked in the direction my name was being called, and a smile touched my lips.

I was an only child but so was my lil’ cousin, Harli.

She was on my mother’s side of the family by my Aunt Leila.

We looked at each other as brother and sister more than cousins.

She was a senior in high school and the graduation party we were throwing was to celebrate her more than everyone else.

She deserved it.

“What’s goodie, lil’ sis? What you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be studying somewhere?” I brought her in for a hug as soon as she was in reach.

“I just took my EOC’s this week, I need a lil’ break before my senior exit. I want you to meet my friend Mel. She’s new to the Lake. Her and her mom just moved here from Atlanta.” Harli introduced the young chick next to her.

She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“What’s up, Mel? How you liking the Lake? It ain’t shit like mini New York but we have fun.” I brought her in for a side hug that lasted no more than a few seconds.

I wasn’t a physical muthafucka like that, especially if you weren’t family.

She batted her lashes at me and gave up that shy girl demeanor.

I knew what that shit meant all too well.

I was flattered to see she took a liking to a nigga, but she was nothing I would dabble in, even if she was the last pussy walking.

I didn’t fuck with nothing under thirty.

I preferred my pussy seasoned.

“I had to make some adjustments but it’s getting better. Thank you. This your crew?” she asked.

“Yeah, this all me. Harli, go take her to meet Mang and Cobalt. They more her speed,” I said turning to leave.

“Okay. We’ll be watching from the sideline. Have a good race.” Harli gave me another hug and walked off with her lil’ friend.

I didn’t bother to look back to see if her friend was watching because I knew she was.

I could feel her eyes burning a fuckin’ hole in my back.

“Eyes up, nigga. Regal and his crew just arrived,” Zinc spoke grabbing my attention.

I smirked as I looked forward.

Him and his crew were slowly making their way across the bridge, and I could smell the five racks in my pockets already.

Racing was like taking candy from a baby.

My skills came from everything Steel and Merc taught me.

I could put a bike together from scratch by the age of twenty-one.

I refused to lose.

“How you feeling Chrome? We good to go?” Copper approached us checking in.

She must’ve noticed the Lowrider Boys as well.

“I’m copacetic. Make sure that nigga good. I don’t need him crying when I take his bread,” I replied.

She nodded and headed over to Regal.

Some niggas felt embarrassed and offended when they lost so most of the times after a race, fights broke out.

They never could accept defeat well and even though we were young, Regal and his crew were younger…

and dumber.

They were hot heads and didn’t have a sense of reasoning.

I was hoping they abided by the street rules tonight.

“His dumbass really put them bright ass lights on his shit. He gon’ cry all the way to the crib after this,” Litty said pointing out the obvious.

“I hate what I’m ‘bout to do to his ass but a nigga rent due. Tell Goldie to send him home with a warm bottle and paci.”

“Beating up on the lil’ ones is wild,” Zinc added.

“He a grown ass man and for the record, beating kids’ ass creates discipline.”

“Nigga you going to jail!” Lead chimed in taking a seat on his bike.

“Whatever muthafucka. Aye let’s get this shit over with. We can’t hold the bridge for much longer,” I said signaling Copper to get ready.

She was our caller and had been since I sat on the throne. Don’t get it twisted though; she got down on the bikes as well. She had two that cost her damn near a house, but she worked hard for her shit. One was a show bike and the other she raced on. She was just as cold as the niggas. The bitches from other crews couldn’t fuck with her on her worst day.

I walked my bike to the line and got my shit together. Nothing about this was a joke to me. I enjoyed racing but I loved riding. The only reason you saw me on at a line was because a stupid muthafucka decided to try his luck and call me out. I never declined because why not make a quick buck and possibly take over your territory, too. BMG was the blueprint, and that shit wasn’t changing no time soon.

Regal was the head of the LRB, so this meant something to him. He pulled up to the line moments later, and I swayed my bike back and forth at the self-made yellow liner Copper spray painted. That nigga was locked in. His eyes forward, jaw set, shoulders loose but that grip on the throttle… yeah, it told me everything I needed to know. He was determined to take home the crown.

Hmph! I lightly chuckled at his ass. I couldn’t help it. The nigga stance told me he was ready on the beast of a bike. I had to admit it to myself the nigga bike was bad. That muthafucka was gon’ give me a run for my money fa sho, but I wasn’t losing this race. LRB was a group of kids if we were being honest. Steel would kick my ass if I let him or anybody else for that matter cross that line before I did. Well, at least try.

“Lock in nigga.

Show that goof ball who the fuck run these streets!

” Zinc yelled.

“Let’s go baby boy,” Goldie shouted behind him.

“Beat his ass nigga or I’m gon’ do it for you,” Litty commented.

All he wanted was a reason to get active.

If I lost, he was raising hell just because.

The crowd pressed in behind the caution cones, already hyped up.

Half of them had bets riding on this shit, while the other half just wanted to see sparks fly.

I caught a glimpse of Copper giving the signal telling me to focus.

Wasn’t no turning the fuck back now.

She stood in front with one hand up ready to initiate that slow three-finger countdown.

Three…

I braced my boots tighter, wrist hovering just right on the grip.

Two…

My heart synced with the idle rumble of my engine.

Steady and heavy.

One…

“GO!” Burn nigga!

Rubber screamed as smoke snapped from the back tires, and we were gone.

Shifting gears, I quickly noticed that I was neck and neck with his ass.

Crotched down, I went into tunnel vision.

This ride was a straight shot.

The blinded red shade from Regal’s bike was sensed out the corner of my eye.

When Litty said his dumbass put them bright lights on his shit, he was referring to that.

That color would cost his ass in this race ‘cause it let me know where he was at all times. Even a color blind muthafucka could see red.

I shifted down into third. Regal… well that nigga shifted too late.

Bingo. Got his ass !

He hit his turbo too early propelling his bike forward. We weren’t even near the finish line yet.

He might’ve won against other niggas with that trick, but I knew better.

I hawked that ass down with skills only hitting him with the same shit he did to me moments ago.

The turbo was administered pushing me right over the finish line a few seconds before his bitch ass.

Game time!

The crowd erupted as soon as I made it over the line.

The rush a nigga felt from racing was what pushed me.

Not only did I get to show off my skills, but I was able to keep myself on top.

BMG was a staple, but we damn sure had a reputation that we upheld.

Losing wasn’t in us.

That went for racing and in life.

It was something I never let happen.

Steel lowkey instilled that shit at me at an early age so it was natural for me to do the same for others.

Bringing my bike to a stop, Regal pulled up beside me.

I removed my helmet, and he did the same.

He was a damn good rider and really gave a nigga a run for the pot.

If it was any other gang, he would’ve taken it home to his crew.

Regal didn’t slack one bit; he just wasn’t good enough to surpass me.

“You did good, kid,” I praised him.

“Why the fuck can’t nobody beat y’all? It’s like, we have that shit in our hands and then here the fuck y’all come swiping that shit. Damn!” he shouted tossing his helmet out of frustration.

Hopping off my shit, I went and fetched it for him.

His temper was horrible, but I understood why he was upset.

Imagine having that promotion in your hand, then here comes that exceptional muthafucka coming in and snatching it from you.

That was how it went when it came to any race BMG was involved in.

We were built for this shit, they weren’t.

“Real shit, you almost took my crown. You hit them switches way too early and fucked yourself up in the end though. Learn from your mistakes and call me. I’ll be here ready to take yo’ shit again. Chin up lil’ nigga. Yo’ crew need to see you ain’t no sore fuckin’ loser. That shit gon’ drive them to think different,” I advised.

“How you do it? How you get so good?” he inquired.

“Nigga my daddy name is Steel. You better ask the fuck around.”

Hopping back on my shit, I cruised to the top of the bridge where my crew was waiting for me.

The smiles on their faces let me know they approved of the race.

I didn’t lose because it would be a disappointment to them.

All they needed was to see the nigga they looked up to fail at something and that would change the dynamics.

I wasn’t going for it.

“Congratulations on your race Chrome.” The chick Harli brought out her was in my face before anyone from BMG.

“’Preciate it, Ma,” I replied but kept it pushing.

I wasn’t ‘bout to give her the chance to say shit else. She was young and dumb which meant she was ready to risk it all. We couldn’t have that.

I wasn’t a rude ass nigga no matter what people thought of me.

Walking up to Zinc’s crazy ass, I couldn’t help but return the smile.

All you saw on that nigga was straight golds.

Anytime I won the pot, he put on like a proud brother.

He was just as lethal on his bike, but he couldn’t fuck with me one-on-one.

“Nigga that’s five easy bands made. Don’t go spending it down at the Roof Inn. I heard about what the fuck you been doing in yo’ spare time. And let me tell you something, bring one bed bug in the crib and I promise you, you gon’ be sleeping on nothing but slacks.”

“Nigga what? Who the hell you been talking to Z?”

“Them hoes on Fredrick and Saint. They said yo’ bike stay parked in front of room 112. When you start buying pussy?” he asked with a look of confusion etched on his face.

He was playing that shit like he was really perplexed by the shit he was saying.

“The minute yo’ mama offered it bitch. Stop playing with me nigga.”

“Oh, I know you paying for it for real now. She ain’t nothing but a hoe. A old, nasty one at that.” Zinc and his mama had a love hate relationship with hate being the dominant factor.

He couldn’t stand that lady, but he supplied her with food every week and made sure her bills were paid.

“Do better Z,” I said shaking my head.

“Buying pussy means we in a fuckin’ drought and there’s plenty of that shit floating around this muthafucka to where I ain’t got to spend a dime. Is any of it worth any value? Hell nah, but it’s being thrown like a frisbee.”

“And I mean in all directions,” he added.

“I’m bullshitting. Copper got the pot. What you trying to do?”

“I’m ‘bout to go back to the clubhouse and party nigga. I’m on a hell of a high right now.”

The distanced sirens caught everybody’s attention in attendance.

It was time to get the fuck on.

We held the bridge for over thirty minutes, it was time to give the city their shit back.

Zinc blew his whistle which caused the twins to do the same and the rest of BMG followed.

That was all the crowd needed to hear to disperse.

I hopped on my shit and waited until my crew was gone.

If anyone was caught left behind, it would always be me.

This was my shit, and they were my responsibility.

They trusted me to keep them safe and I’d be damned if a nigga dropped the ball.

Once they were out the way, I took off passing two units on the way.

All they wanted was the bridge cleared.

Chasing me was something that would piss them off knowing they couldn’t catch me if they tied a string to my shit.

I made a mental note to call my aunt when I touched down at the clubhouse.

I needed her to call her pit bulls back so BMG could keep doing our thing.

Smiling, I hit the turbo and was gone in the wind.

The night was just getting started but it damn sure started off on a good foot.

A foot worth five fuckin’ bands.