Read Online Street Chronicles Girls in the Game by Nikki Turner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nikki Turner
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shit, I'll have the projects on lock in no time.”
The first thing that came to mind was that I would be risking my job. But once Tank put it all in perspective, it all made sense.
“Renée, nothing illegal—all these broads need a place to stay anyway; may as well set them up where they can be the most use,” Tank said.
See, Tank had a vision. He knew that he wanted to be the sole drug supplier for all of the housing projects in Richmond. With me as his eyes into each project community, I could make sure that certain Section Eight applications were filled first, and that the applicants always stayed up-to-date on inspections and so forth. By the time I was promoted, Tank's heroin business was booming; plus he'd even opened a restaurant and bar to make everything look legit, all thanks to his “plan.”
So really, we had always been a team. But because of the nature of the business he was in and the nature of the business I was in, we had to keep everything private. Every now and then I might run into someone from our old neighborhood who asked what was up with Tank. Since Tank was into the street life, he was more visible on that scene. The people I came in contact with on a daily basis had no idea that I was even affiliated with someone as treacherous as Tank. So on a business level our worlds were separate, but on a personal level we shared one world. Sometimes I would feel sad because I couldn't flaunt our relationship around others. But I know how hard it is to find a good man, and Tankwas always good to me. Always kept me in a nice ride—all rimmed up, of course—bought me diamonds on the regular, and the shopping sprees to Tyson's Corner … well, let's just say he always spent at least ten grand each time. Material things can't define love, but I knew Tank loved me because of the future we planned to have together. I was also very proud of Tank for all that he had accomplished. He was a street-sawy, intelligent brother. No, he hadn't gone to college and gotten a degree on paper, but he was able to get out of the projects and open his own business. He was equally proud of me for all I had accomplished, so together we made a great team.
When Tank came in, his cream-colored linen pants were muddy, full of blood, and his matching linen shirt was full of sweat.
“You okay, baby?” I asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I'm a'ight,” he said, looking at the trail of mud he was making with his messy pants.
He walked over to the restaurant-size stainless-steel double sink and washed his hands. He had sweat all over his bronze-colored body, so much that his linen outfit clung to him. Even with sweat dripping from his bald head, he still looked sexy. He removed his shirt to display his six-pack abs. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his back. He turned off the water, but didn't turn around to face me. Though it bothered me a little when Tank had to wipe someone out, I understood, especially when it was someone who threatened to destroy all he had built over the years.
See, I realized that one day, when Tank got tired of running the drug business, he would put all of his eggs in one basket, concentrate on legit businesses, and we would settle down and have a real family together, kids and all. Dealing with him wasn't easy, because there were so many crooks out there pretending to be hisfriend, yet stabbing him in the back at the same time. Not to mention the women who practically threw themselves at him. I needed to help protect him, at least until he was able to make that all-important transition from the drug game to a totally legitimate way of living.
“Hey, what's wrong?” I asked him softly, almost in a whisper.
He looked at me with his almond-shaped eyes and full, juicy lips and said, “I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
He pulled away, unbuttoned his pants, and let them drop to the marble-tiled floor. Grabbing my hand, he wanted me to follow him. He was wearing
The first thing that came to mind was that I would be risking my job. But once Tank put it all in perspective, it all made sense.
“Renée, nothing illegal—all these broads need a place to stay anyway; may as well set them up where they can be the most use,” Tank said.
See, Tank had a vision. He knew that he wanted to be the sole drug supplier for all of the housing projects in Richmond. With me as his eyes into each project community, I could make sure that certain Section Eight applications were filled first, and that the applicants always stayed up-to-date on inspections and so forth. By the time I was promoted, Tank's heroin business was booming; plus he'd even opened a restaurant and bar to make everything look legit, all thanks to his “plan.”
So really, we had always been a team. But because of the nature of the business he was in and the nature of the business I was in, we had to keep everything private. Every now and then I might run into someone from our old neighborhood who asked what was up with Tank. Since Tank was into the street life, he was more visible on that scene. The people I came in contact with on a daily basis had no idea that I was even affiliated with someone as treacherous as Tank. So on a business level our worlds were separate, but on a personal level we shared one world. Sometimes I would feel sad because I couldn't flaunt our relationship around others. But I know how hard it is to find a good man, and Tankwas always good to me. Always kept me in a nice ride—all rimmed up, of course—bought me diamonds on the regular, and the shopping sprees to Tyson's Corner … well, let's just say he always spent at least ten grand each time. Material things can't define love, but I knew Tank loved me because of the future we planned to have together. I was also very proud of Tank for all that he had accomplished. He was a street-sawy, intelligent brother. No, he hadn't gone to college and gotten a degree on paper, but he was able to get out of the projects and open his own business. He was equally proud of me for all I had accomplished, so together we made a great team.
When Tank came in, his cream-colored linen pants were muddy, full of blood, and his matching linen shirt was full of sweat.
“You okay, baby?” I asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I'm a'ight,” he said, looking at the trail of mud he was making with his messy pants.
He walked over to the restaurant-size stainless-steel double sink and washed his hands. He had sweat all over his bronze-colored body, so much that his linen outfit clung to him. Even with sweat dripping from his bald head, he still looked sexy. He removed his shirt to display his six-pack abs. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him and laid my head on his back. He turned off the water, but didn't turn around to face me. Though it bothered me a little when Tank had to wipe someone out, I understood, especially when it was someone who threatened to destroy all he had built over the years.
See, I realized that one day, when Tank got tired of running the drug business, he would put all of his eggs in one basket, concentrate on legit businesses, and we would settle down and have a real family together, kids and all. Dealing with him wasn't easy, because there were so many crooks out there pretending to be hisfriend, yet stabbing him in the back at the same time. Not to mention the women who practically threw themselves at him. I needed to help protect him, at least until he was able to make that all-important transition from the drug game to a totally legitimate way of living.
“Hey, what's wrong?” I asked him softly, almost in a whisper.
He looked at me with his almond-shaped eyes and full, juicy lips and said, “I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
He pulled away, unbuttoned his pants, and let them drop to the marble-tiled floor. Grabbing my hand, he wanted me to follow him. He was wearing
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