The House that Hustle Built, Part 1 by Nisa Santiago

Author:Nisa Santiago [Santiago, Nisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melodrama Publishing
Published: 2015-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Cash didn’t have to lift a finger for anything. In the comforts of Pearla’s bedroom, he relaxed and was treated like royalty. She waited on him hand and foot, while still running a business. When he felt dirty, she bathed him with a side hand-job. When they were alone, they talked. Being around her twenty-four/seven, he was learning a lot.

During the day, countless young women came in and out of her apartment, each involved in one get-money scheme or another—stolen merchandise, illegal weddings, credit card fraud. One way or another, Pearla was getting it in, and all the girls looked up to her like she was a big sister. Cash began to fully respect her. She was a boss.

A week after the shooting, Cash grew restless. He constantly thought about the thugs that did his father dirty. His father was harmless. They beat him down and then shot him. Why would they beat up an old man and then shoot him? he thought over and over again.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He refused to let it go. Everyone involved needed to die, and by his hands. He had never been a violent man, but when forced, the monster came out of him. He was ready to get a gun and administer his own street justice.

When the girls were gone and they were alone, Pearla shut her bedroom door and looked at Cash. He was quiet, his gaze turned toward the open window.

She walked to the foot of her bed and took a seat. “What’s wrong, baby? What are you thinking about?”

He turned and locked eyes with her. “I can’t get these niggas out of my head, Pearla, how they fucked up my pops and shot me. They disrespected me and my family.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna do somethin’ about it. I ain’t about to let this shit go. You feel me?”

Pearla nodded. “I feel you, baby.” She moved closer to him and took his hand into hers. Looking at him with care, she advised, “Cash, if you do this, just don’t get caught.”

Cash wasn’t trying to get caught. His father had always drilled into his head growing up to do dirt by his lonesome. He knew he could count on Manny and Petey Jay to have his back; they were like brothers to him. But if a nigga got jammed up, it was possible he could snitch. He was going to do it alone. Only Pearla was aware of his plan.

“I just need a gun,” he said. Cash was aching to get his hands on a pistol and go hunting, transitioning from car thief to vigilante.

“My mother has a gun,” Pearla said. “It’s her backup service revolver.”

For now, it was perfect.

The minute her mother was gone from the apartment, Pearla picked the lock to her mother’s bedroom door and sneaked inside. She had to be careful. Poochie hated when anyone went in her room, especially when she wasn’t home. Pearla went through Poochie’s closet and found the lock box the gun was stashed in.

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