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  “I don’t. I’m just holding it for a friend,” she replied. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Don’t touch my shit.”

  He grabbed her by the upper arm and jerked her roughly, causing her to drop the bag and wince in pain. “Look, bitch. I’m letting you stay here because you cool with Vita, but you ain’t even paying no rent. I don’t charge you to eat the food in my refrigerator or to rest your head in my house. You can’t look out for ya boy?” he asked her in a threatening way.

  Zya snatched her arm back and replied, “Look, Heavy, I appreciate that, and when I get some money, I’m gon’ hit you and Vita off, but this shit ain’t mine.”

  “You full of shit, Zya. That little Latino chick told me you was holding the bricks.” His grasp tightened around her arm.

  “Let me go. Nigga, I ain’t Vita. You not about to be—” Before Zya could even finish her sentence, Heavy pushed her hard against the wall.

  “What!” He yelled as he cocked his hand back and brought it down hard across her face.

  “Vita!” Zya called out in pain.

  “Vita ain’t gon’ save you,” Heavy said. He mashed his sloppy body against hers and began to touch on her breasts. She knew that Heavy was no good, but she would never expect him to pull no shit like this. She closed her eyes as she felt the tears build up. He grinded against her as he kissed on her neck, and she felt his dick get hard. She felt the tears threatening to fall, but she refused to submit to Heavy’s trifling ass.

  “You ain’t shit, Heavy. You gon’ rape me in the house that you share with my best friend? You gon’ play Vita like that?” Zya asked in disgust. Her words must have killed the mood for Heavy because he backed up off her and stormed out of the room.

  Zya slid down the wall and held her stomach as she thought about what had almost just occurred. I have to get out of here, she thought as she finally wiped her tears away. I have to get this money so that I can leave. Her face hurt badly in the spot where Heavy had struck her, and she knew that it would be red. She got up and looked into the mirror. Her face was swollen slightly. If Jules wasn’t locked up, she would have gone straight to him and told him what had happened, but there was nothing he could do for her now. She fixed herself up as best she could, grabbed the black duffel bag and exited the room. As she walked past Vita’s bedroom, Heavy stood like a statue in the door, mugging Zya as she stormed past.

  “Bitch, have your shit out by tomorrow!”

  On her way out the door, she bumped past Vita.

  “Hey, Zy, where you going?” Vita called after her.

  Zya didn’t reply. She had already decided that she would not stay another night in Vita’s house. She loved her best friend, but her man was foul. She wasn’t going to tell Vita about what happened because she knew that it wouldn’t change anything. Heavy would just lie about it, and the situation would come between their friendship. Zya walked out of the house and took the subway to Brooklyn.

  Zya walked into the crowded restaurant and looked around for Smitty. She had no idea what he looked like, and it was hard for her to spot anybody out of the huge crowd.

  “What’s good with you, mama?”

  “You looking for somebody?”

  “Damn, where you going?”

  All types of dudes tried to spit game at her as she walked through the restaurant. Even with her face red and swollen, niggas were still trying to get at her. Zya ignored the lines as she spotted an older man in a turtleneck and jeans sitting in the back. She made her way over to him with the duffel bag hanging off her arm.

  “Sit down,” he said to her calmly once she finally reached his table. She sat down and looked around nervously. She didn’t know what to expect, and she kept fidgeting. She looked hot, and Smitty sat back and watched.

  “Calm down,” he finally instructed. “Are you hungry?” Zya nodded her head and they ordered something to eat.

  “I have your stuff,” Zya said.

  “Where is Jules?” he asked her. She gave him the same answer that she had given Snow, and he seemed to buy it because he didn’t ask any more questions.

  “What is your name?”

  “Zya,” she replied.

  “How much do you have on you?” he asked her.

  “Ten,” she replied.

  “I’ll take them all,” he said. Zya hadn’t been expecting this because she thought that he only purchased two at a time. She wasn’t about to argue, though. She had just come into $40,000.

  “Okay, Zya, this is how this is going to go. You are going to leave the bag in your seat when you get up and leave the restaurant. It’s simple and easy. Don’t look back, and don’t be nervous. This is just a simple meal between two friends, okay?”

  Zya nodded her head in understanding. She liked Smitty. He could tell it was her first time, and he made it easy for her. They ate their food casually, and when it was over, they both got up to leave. Zya did as she was told and left the bag in the seat, and he simply picked it up and followed behind her as they exited the restaurant.

  “Follow me to my car,” he said. She did as she was told. He popped his trunk and pulled out a present box that was wrapped in birthday paper and had a huge bow tied around it. Zya’s eyes got big. She didn’t have a clue what was going on, but she took the box from him.

  “Open it,” he said nicely.

  She untied the bow and ripped off the paper. When she opened the box, she found a multi-colored Doonie & Bourke bag. She smiled at the designer shoulder bag and looked up at Smitty in confusion. He smiled back and said, “Happy birthday.” His voice was loud and he stepped closer to her and embraced her in a hug.

  Once his mouth was near her ear, he whispered, “This little show is just in case somebody is watching. The money is inside plus a little extra. Tell Jules if he lowers his prices then there’s a lot more where that came from.”

  Zya decided to make the trip to Jersey that same night. She was walking around New York with over $150,000 in her bag, and she wasn’t trying to get robbed. She made her way to the Port Authority and got on the departing route to Jersey. It was 11:30 at night, and she was tired, but she wanted to tie up the loose ends. She arrived in Newark an hour and a half later. She picked up her phone and dialed Snow’s number.

  “Hello?” he answered on the first ring.

  “This is Zya,” she said as she stood in front of the bus station, clutching the designer bag.

  “Who?” he asked.

  “I work for Jules. I got your money,” she said. “I’m in Jersey.”

  “Come through,” he replied.

  Snow hung up the phone in confusion. He looked at his diamond bezel Cellini Rolex and saw that it was close to 1:00 A.M. What the fuck is she doing making a trip to Jersey this late? He began to get suspicious because Zya’s visit was not planned. He had just given Jules the bricks a week earlier. It usually took him a month to move ten kilos. It had only taken Zya seven days. The situation seemed odd to Snow, and he hoped that he wasn’t being set up.

  He remembered Zya from the party he had attended a couple days ago. She still had all of the bricks four nights ago. How the hell she get rid of ten kilos in four days? he thought. He knew that something had to be up. He had done business with Jules for two years, and he had never switched up his operation. His pattern was always the same. He always sent the girl to pick up the package and deliver the money. The times, the places, the locations . . . everything was always predictable with Jules. Now things had changed. He hadn’t heard from Jules, and Zya was telling him that she was handling things for a while. Snow didn’t know what was going on, but he hoped that he wasn’t getting himself into some bullshit.

  He waited for Zya to arrive, and when he heard the cab pull up to his house, he grabbed his pistol and tucked it safely in between his couch cushions for easy access. Most niggas don’t feel the need to be strapped in the presence of a woman, but Snow wasn’t a sucker for a pretty face. He knew that women could be just as deadly. The biggest drug lord New Jersey had ever s
een had been a woman, and he wasn’t going to underestimate the one who was getting ready to step foot inside his house.

  Zya rang the doorbell and waited for Snow to open the door. He answered in a pair of baggy plaid pajama pants and a white wifebeater. His tattooed arms were chiseled almost perfectly, and he stood tall in the doorway, looking down at Zya.

  “Come in,” he said as he stepped out of her way and watched her walk into the house. He looked at her ass as she walked by and admired her perfect proportions.

  “Here’s your cash. I haven’t taken my cut out yet,” she said. She pulled the stacks of money out of the Dooney & Bourke and watched as he put the cash through a money machine and counted it.

  “This had to be handled tonight?” he asked her. He looked at the side of her face and noticed that it was swollen.

  “Yeah . . . I didn’t want to carry around this much money until morning,” she said.

  He continued to stare at her. He couldn’t help himself. Her beauty was almost hypnotizing.

  They sat in silence as the money machine did its job, counting stack after stack of bills. Zya looked around Snow’s crib and noticed how nice it was. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but the nigga was definitely living good.

  “What’s your name?” Snow asked her out of the blue.

  “Zya,” she responded. She had been picking up dope and dropping off money to him on behalf of Jules for a while, and she couldn’t believe he didn’t even know her name.

  “Zya, about the other night . . . I didn’t mean no disrespect. I was feeling it, and—”

  Zya waved her hand and said, “It’s not a big deal. I wasn’t offended or nothing. Your little girlfriend did more damage than you did.”

  “That ain’t my girlfriend. What damage?”

  “Nothing. It ain’t your problem. She just ran her mouth about what she saw. A nigga saw an opportunity and tried to take advantage,” she explained.

  “That’s what happened to your face?” he asked her in a sincere tone. She nodded her head. Snow got up from the kitchen table and put some ice in a Ziploc bag. He then handed it to Zya. “Put that on your face.”

  She took the ice and smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Snow inquired as he loaded another stack of bills in the machine.

  Zya nodded and he continued. “Why your man got you out here risking your freedom doing his dirty work?”

  Zya shot him a look that told him not to go there. “I do what I have to do,” she said as she stood up.

  Snow stared at the feisty woman that stood before him. He was mesmerized by her swagger. She was feminine, but in so many ways, she was a gangster.

  The money machine stopped, and Zya took her cut then made her way to the door. He watched as her sexy walk commanded his attention. She was fine as hell, almost perfect in every way. She was gorgeous, classy, and loyal to her nigga. He wanted her on his team. Before she walked out the door, Snow said, “It’s late. You need a ride?”

  “If I were a man, would you be asking me that?”

  Snow smiled and shook his head. Her attitude was intriguing.

  Zya stared at his gray eyes and dropped her defenses. She looked at her phone. It’s almost three in the morning, and I don’t feel like waiting for a cab.

  She looked at him and said, “Yeah, I would appreciate that.”

  He grabbed the keys to his silver Aston Martin and drove her back to New York.

  “Just to let you know, I’m fucking your girl up when I see her,” Zya said as they drove across the Manhattan Bridge.

  “Go for what you know. That ain’t my bitch,” he replied as he did 95 miles per hour, enjoying the feel of his sports car. “Just make sure she don’t leave you lumped up like ol’ boy did you,” he said in a joking way.

  Zya hit him hard on the arm and replied, “That shit ain’t funny.”

  “Where am I taking you?” he asked.

  “You can just drop me off at the same house the party was at the other night. I got to pick up my things. I’ll take a cab to a hotel.”

  “That’s where you staying at? A hotel?” Snow quizzed.

  “You ask a lot of questions,” Zya said, trying to avoid answering them.

  “I’ll take you to get your clothes and drop you off wherever you need to go. I think I need a room for the night too. You got me out here at five in the morning.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence. Zya leaned back and went to sleep, and Snow couldn’t help but to glance at her every once in a while.

  They arrived at Vita’s house, and Zya used the key that Vita had given her to enter the house. Snow waited at the front door while Zya went upstairs to get her things. She packed up all her belongings then made her way down the stairs. She tried her best to be quiet, but her movement still woke Vita.

  Vita came down the stairs. “Zya!” she whispered. Vita turned on the living room light and saw Snow standing behind Zya. She looked at Zya’s bags and said, “You leaving?”

  Zya figured that Heavy hadn’t told her what happened. She replied, “Yeah, girl, I’m out.”

  “What happened to your face?” Vita asked.

  Zya smacked her lips and stated, “Ask Heavy.”

  Vita acted as if she didn’t hear Zya’s last statement, and she focused her attention on Snow.

  “Wasn’t you over here the other night? At the party?” Vita inquired.

  Snow nodded his head. “Yeah, ma, I was here.”

  Vita smiled devilishly at her friend and said, “You must have taken my advice and dumped that chump nigga. I’m glad, girl, cuz his ass got a baby on the way anyway.”

  Zya frowned. “What?”

  “Remember when I went to get my hair done the other day? Some pregnant bitch was in there talking ’bout how Jules takes care of her. She was going on and on about how he be hitting her up with cash, and how he got money put up for her baby. She had to be about nine months. She looked like she was getting ready to pop.”

  Zya shook her head in disbelief and shock. “No, she was lying. She had to be lying.”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that she was up in there talking big shit about how Jules always make sure his family is tight. Some light-skinned chick with short red hair. Her haircut was bad as hell, but she wasn’t all that cute. She wasn’t cuter than you.”

  Zya didn’t believe Vita. She is lying. She has to be lying. She found out what happened today with Heavy and now she trying to have me stressing.

  “Why you tripping anyway? You look good on his arm,” Vita said, pointing to Snow.

  Snow could see the look on Zya’s face and could tell that she needed to get out of there. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the house.

  Zya remained silent as they made their way to Manhattan. She didn’t say a word. She had already decided she was going to see Jules the next day. It was not the Monday she was supposed to visit, but she didn’t care. She had to ask him if what she heard was true. Her heart was beating so hard that she could hear it through her chest. She wanted to scream.

  They pulled up to the Marriott hotel and purchased two rooms. As they made their way up to the 22nd floor, Snow could see the pain on her face. That nigga is a fool, he thought. He didn’t see how any man would want to play Zya. She was everything that he wanted in a woman.

  They got off the elevator and made their way to their rooms. He helped her take her stuff into her room. She was exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically and couldn’t help but plop down on the bed as soon as she entered the room.

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded her head. “Thank you for everything,” she said. She got up and followed him to the door.

  “I’m right next door . . . if you need anything . . .” he began.

  “I’m good. Thanks,” she said, almost in a cold way. She wasn’t trying to be rude, but the only thing she could think about was Jules.

  That nigga better not be playing
me, she thought.

  Snow walked into the hall, and before she closed the door, he said, “Zya, I meant what I said the other night. If you were mine, you wouldn’t want for anything.”

  She looked up at him and said, “I’m not yours. I have a man.”

  The next morning, Zya made her way to Riker’s Island. She had calmed down a lot. She had been upset the night before, but after thinking things over, she knew that Jules would never hurt her. She was his and he was hers. She still wanted to go see him, though. She wanted to let him know that she had sold all of the dope and was going to pay his lawyers that very day.

  She made the long trip to Riker’s, and after going through endless security checks, she was about to sign up to see Jules. She made her way to the visitor’s room, where the sign-in log was located. When she was about to sign in, she noticed that somebody else had also signed up to see Jules.

  Who the fuck is Tisha Moretti?

  Zya looked around the room and her heart dropped when she saw the light-skinned girl with the bad-ass short hairstyle. The girl looked exactly the way Vita had described, and Zya could tell that she was late in her pregnancy. Zya looked at the diamonds that cluttered her wrists and fingers and saw the Mercedes Benz key that the girl was holding, and she instantly grew angry.

  Here I am moving dope for this nigga, and she sitting over there carefree, spending up the money that I probably earned.

  Zya was hurt. She was struggling, and Jules was taking good care of another bitch. She had thought they were so much better than that, but it was obvious to her now that she was a fool.

  I’m Jules’s girl on the side. He isn’t cheating on me ... he’s cheating on her. She’s wifey, and I’m the girl he uses to make runs and do dirt. He’s breaking bread with her and buying me a damn outfit every two weeks to keep me satisfied.

  Zya realized that she had never actually seen any of Jules’s money. He always just bought her things, but he never physically set her up so that she would be straight. Zya’s heart was breaking. The girl sitting across the room was glowing. She definitely wasn’t more attractive than Zya, but she had something that Zya wanted, and that was Jules. She could feel the tears coming, and there was no stopping them. She got up and rushed out of the room.