Money, Power, Respect (G Street Chronicles Presents) by Lorraine Rey

Author:Lorraine Rey [Rey, Lorraine]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Contemporary Fiction, motivation, love, bookclub, series, urban lit, sex, Romance, lies, Music, scandal, david weaver, urban fiction, Urban, kwan, tv, gstreet, eric jerome dickey, urban books, fast paced, essence, Erotica, womens fiction, Women's Fiction, Mystery, victoria christopher murray, relationship, drugs, reshonda tate billingsley, wahida clark, United States, ericjdickey, deceit, African American, michaelbaisden, thriller, true glory, gstreetessence, domestic abuse, maintenance man, zane, Suspense, action, goodreads, Drama, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B00QKRNJUA
Publisher: G Street Chronicles
Published: 2014-12-03T05:00:00+00:00

11.

I can be your boyfriend, be your nigga or a friend with perks...

Wale ft. Miguel, ‘Lotus Flower Bomb’

Bay

I’ve only been in Florida for a few weeks and shit has already been crazy. I don’t see Amber as much since she’s been in the trap and I was busy moving work for Bundy. My body felt tired as I drove back to Miami from Augusta. I had Smitty riding with me for protection and all that nigga wanted to do was sleep. His snoring was making me mad so I had the Fabolous mix tape on blast.

“Damn, shawty. A nigga over here tryna sleep,” Smitty wiped his eyes.

“So? That loud ass snoring…we do have four more hours to drive!”

“I got to stay alert all day when we make these drops to make sure nobody pops your ass. You need to hook me up wit one of yo friends and stop bullshitting,” Smitty pulled his seat up.

“Friends are overrated. I don’t have too many to call my own. Besides, I don’t wanna talk about no hookups.”

“Well shit, what you wanna do? Sit and talk about your boo?”

“What boo?” I tried to hide my smile.

“Aw, girl don’t play dumb. Blocka been taggin dat ass since you touched down and shit. When y’all getting married?”

“Yeah, go back to sleep.”

“Whatever. I know love. Trust me. You look at dat nigga like he the only nigga in Miami or some shit.”

“Yeah? Who used to look at you like that?”

“Jalisa Armstrong. That was my ol lady before she got popped a couple years back.”

“What happened?”

“Some beef she had with some chick. She was stabbed to death.”

“Oh, my bad. I ain’t mean to bring that up.”

“Nah, shawty. It’s good. You just got the same look she had; that look of love and shit.”

I looked at Smitty and frowned, “Nigga, I know you ain’t getting soft on me.”

“Nah, never dat. You won’t let a nigga sleep. Now all I could do is think and shit.”

“Well, I do have a cousin,” I went back to our previous subject.

“Man, ain’t nobody trying a deal with Amber’s crazy ass. She’s cool and all, but no. Un huh. I saw her spaz on Bundy a few times. No!” Smitty shook his head.

“No, I got another cousin. She’s back home in Philly. I’m going to fly her down here for Labor Day. Y’all should hook up.”

“She cute?”

“It runs in the family.”

“Nah,” Smitty pulled his Droid from his pocket, “I don’t trust that ‘I got a cousin and she cute’ shit. Pull up her Facebook or something.”

“Look up Michelle Cooper.”

I scanned through the songs on my iPod until I found a song that could keep me energized.

“Oh hell, she looks ratchet too. Michelle Makinhoessick Cooper?”

“That’s her,” I chuckled at her Facebook name.

“She’s kinda cute. Got a nice little fat ass to her and shit. But hell no. I can see her attitude through my damn screen.”

“Smitty, don’t do that.

Smitty’s phone rang as he flipped through Michelle’s pictures.

“Yo,” he pressed the phone to his ear.

There was low muffling going on, but I could tell that it was Blocka.

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