Page 18 of On Everything

Hov

When I left Ciara’s spot, I felt like every eye on the pathway to my car was on me. I didn’t clutch my pistol because a muthafucka would be dumb to come at me. Not even the most dependent of drug feens would risk them and their mama’s lives fuckin with me.

When I jumped in my driver’s seat, I sped off to hit the Brooklyn expressway to check in on my money for the day.

Every visit I make over here now would be a pop up visit.

That was the best way to see if the niggas I had in this new position could handle the job.

When I hopped out of my car, I walked up to the intercom put my number inside.

“Yo, Yo.”

Tony, my newest watchman, answered the call like it was a house phone with loud ass music playing in the back.

“Yo let me up, nigga.”

“This Hov?”

“Yeah, let me up!”

The door buzzed a few seconds later and popped open for me to come inside. On my way up the steps, I heard heavy steps like bitches walking in heels coming down as I traveled up.

When we crossed paths, they were all staring at a nigga, but I’m used to that shit with young hoes like them. They would never have a chance with me. Can’t no teen or bitch in their early twenties do shit for me. I like women.

“Damn, I hate we leaving the party now.”

“Okay, girl. He is too fine.”

Surely they wasn’t coming up out of my trap.

Tony and the knew crew had been told my rules about visitors.

Especially visitors I don’t know. No one but workers are allowed here and can know this location.

I’ve went through all of that with them whenever I gave them niggas this position the other day.

My cousin Tony been begging for work since he turned eighteen, and I finally gave in when this watch spot became available.

Like my young dude Princeton, I didn’t want to corrupt him or his homies, so I just put them on guard over here with a couple of AR-15s just in case a nigga wanted to lose his life.

With it being three of them here, I told them that one could fuck off by watching tv, sleeping, or whatever, while the other two handled business, watching the tellers and the front door, but never all fuck off at the same time.

Once I stood outside the door, I tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. I don’t understand why when I told the niggas I was coming up.

“What the fuck going on in here?” I complained to myself.

I stepped back to push off the wall behind me, and just before I could kick the door in, Tony swung it open from the inside.

“Wha, what’s up, Hov. We didn’t know you were coming through tonight.”

When I walked inside, it looked like they had tried to clean up, but had been entertaining some hoes in here for sure. It was obvious from the red cups on the floor, the liquor bottles piled up in the trash, and weed smoke so thick I could barely see these niggas.

I was mad as a muthafucka instantly, and I clutched my fire before I remembered who they were.

“Where is Heaven and Frankie?”

“They’re gone. They counted all the money for tonight, and the next drop not coming until the morning.”

“Where the fuck is my money at?”

“We locked it up in the room in the safe after Heaven and Frankie left. We just wanted to have a little fun since we couldn’t come to the tournament tonight, but trust, Harold was guarding the door the entire time. Ain’t no one go back there”

Tony trying to explain himself didn’t make me feel no better. I wish he would just shut the fuck up. When I can’t think straight, I get even more irritated. I’m a man who hates explanations because to me, they were dressed up excuses.

“You niggas got five seconds to clean this shit up before I make your mama and my mama cry.”

They started to scatter like roaches, picking up shit on the floor because I’m sure they knew I wasn’t bullshitting.

This nigga Tony is proof that you can’t hire family for simple shit.

Sitting in a free spot all day, smoking weed, and guarding money wasn’t a hard job.

I thought I was doing something good for my little cousin since the little nigga was working his mama's nerves. Not trying to go to college or get a job. Just sitting around her spot all day with his friends doing exactly what I’m paying them to do, yet it’s still too hard for these little niggas for some reason.

Maybe the hustler in me came from my dad’s side.

My aunt Tiny didn’t like to work either.

“Hov, I apologize, man. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

Tony paused from picking up trash for a second.

“What the fuck is apologizing going to do, nigga? Now, I have to get all of this money counted and moved out of here because this location is now compromised. Them hoes saw me coming here, so they know either money or drugs are inside this apartment. Did you niggas not think?”

“No, I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“You lil niggas don’t think at all. That’s your fuckin’ problem.”

I kicked the chair in front of me to the other side of the room and walked into the kitchen.

“Siri, call Crew.” I stood in the middle of the messy ass kitchen that had cigar guts all over the counter. How these niggas fucked up my spot in a day should be studied. Nasty ass niggas.

The phone rang for a little bit then Crew answered the phone breathing hard in my ear, so I already knew what this nigga was doing.

Fucking some bitch.

“Get off of the hoe and head over to the stash house. We need to move this money somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else for what? Damn baby, slow down, slow, slow. Yeah, like that. Now what, nigga?”

I couldn’t even judge the nigga for getting no pussy when I’d just gotten some head from his sister earlier.

I wish I had saved it for now since my pressure is up through the roof.

This may be one of those nights that I open up a sack of weed and roll a joint for myself.

I didn’t smoke every day, hated the taste it left in my mouth.

But when I’m stressing, I’ll take a blunt to the head.

I don’t judge or see nothing wrong with people who do it every day, I’m just not one of them.

My favorite stress reliever is actually pussy.

Nice warm juicy pussy to take the edge off a bad day.

“We can take it all to my crib until I get another spot to move it to. We also going to have to find some niggas who really about their money because these little niggas I had here all fired and they better be glad that I don’t kill they young asses.”

“Alright, man, give me like thirty minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Bet.”

When the phone disconnected, I watched over them cleaning the entire place up before I threw them out of here like Jazz on The Fresh Prince. Tony’s little ass flew the furthest.

I locked the door and then looked outside the window, spotting Tony and the rest of them dummies now arguing on the sidewalk.

It sounded like they were blaming each other for getting kicked out of the organization before they really even got in.

I gave them a simple job of guarding my money and making sure my tellers didn’t take none of my shit, but they were too busy worried about pussy and having fun.

Immature niggas didn’t know how to separate business from muthafucking pleasure and that’s the first thing you learn when trying to be a boss.

I’d learned when me and Cashmier started seeing each other that it is hard to mix both, but not impossible.

When we first started off, she was only requiring me to come home every night by midnight, and Wednesdays were all hers.

At first, it was cool. I used to be happy to take a full day off and lay up under her ass all day.

We would watch movies and shit, order takeout, and have sex every other hour because we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other.

I think that caused burn out, because over the course of a year, the shit started to get old to me and her superficial ass conversations about new purses and shit I just wasn’t interested in.

I fell out of love with my first love simply because I was around her too much.

Once Crew showed up at the trap about forty minutes later, he called up Scotty, our Dominican homie, who was my translator whenever I did business with the plugs.

He was an army brat, so this nigga knew three different languages.

The most I could speak is broken Spanish.

My grandma tried teaching me Spanish back in the day, but my pops said he didn’t want his son talking in any languages that he couldn’t understand.

He could be close-minded sometimes. That was the one major flaw he had.

I like to think had he not been close-minded, then he would’ve gone to the doctor when his chest first started to hurt, and Grandma told him something was wrong.

That shit taught me for sure to never not listen when my body is trying to tell me something.

I go to my physician every six months to stay on top of things.

My father died at a young age, and it wasn't by the gun. I don't want the same fate for me.

“So, what are we here for?”

Scotty asked, with an eagerness to work. That's why I appreciated him. Rain sleet or snow couldn't keep him from coming through when I need him.

“I need you to watch over the stash house for a minute. The location been compromised so until I find a new one, we exposed.”

“Damn, boss man, I’m getting downgraded to watch boy now?”

“Just for a few nights. Well, until we find someone who we can trust over the money before it ships out to be clean. Niggas get up in here and think it’s a resort. I know you not going to treat it as such. One of you is probably better than three of them.”

“That’s understood, my guy. You know I got you. I took ecstasy this morning, so I know I’m up for the rest of the night.”

“Alright, a few runners should be dropping off bags in the morning. Heaven and Franky will be here soon after to count it. But in the mean time I'll be looking for a new spot. Me and Crew going to take some of the money stashed with us, just to make sure all our ducks not in one basket.”

“Okay, understood.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. You know it’s always whatever you need, Hov.”

After getting him set up in the trap, me and Crew both left with about five hundred thousand in cash, but there was at least five hundred grand still inside the trap waiting to be transported.

When I got to my penthouse, I checked my surroundings before hopping out of the car and moving the cash inside.

Me and Crew loaded up the elevator and then rode up to the top floor.

My phone rang just as the elevator door opened.

It was Cashmier calling again and I put my phone in my pocket because I’m about to deal with her soon enough.

We hit a couple of hallways, and when I got to the hallway my penthouse sat on, I noticed my front door was wide fucking open.

“Yo, what the fuck this shit about?”

Crew noticed what I saw too and me and him ran down to my spot. I could tell that the door had been kicked in because the hinges were hanging on by a thread.

“Cashmier! Cash!”

I ran through my spot looking for her ass, but she was nowhere to be found. Only a few things were disturbed inside here, like the large picture on the wall knocked to the side, and a lamp shattered on the floor.

“What the fuck you think happened, bruh? You think she left?”

“Not willingly, the fuckin’ door tells it all, bruh.”

When my phone rang again, I saw that it was another call from Cash, and this time I answered shawty with the quickness.

“Cashmier, where the fuck you at? What happened here?”

“Some men came to the house and took me and said they need five hundred grand before they will give me back! They wanted me to tell you to not involve any cops, and that they will be contacting you through a burner phone next. And that if you don’t oblige, they will kill me.

Baby, please do what they want.!” Cashmier pleaded over the phone

The fear in her voice was making me boil inside worse than I have been in a while. I may have been ready to end things with her, but she didn’t deserve to be caught up in any of my shit. Them taking Cashmier and coming into my home was the end of their existence as they know it.

It’s going to be war when I find out who did this, but I have to get Cash back safe first. I can’t have her blood on my hands. I mean, I did love her at one point in time.