Tamia was raised just how her parents planned, religious, smart and ahead of the game. But every girl has a bad side. After being told what to do and how to act for so long, Tamia decides that it's time to make a change to her life and gets caught i...
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Since Tamia was at school and I already situated the numbers for this week along with making sure everyone had the right amount of work and paid, I was free. Trevante told me about Pamela's fucked up actions and what she did to the twins. She was lucky she wasn't home when I pulled up because I was ready to smack fucking sense into my flesh and blood. As for Momma, she was ducking and dodging me, making me upset at her because I knew she was in the house when it happened. It made no sense that these kids couldn't even feel safe around their own mother.
Because of the workload and traveling I was doing and Tamia busy having work and school, Mr.Jones agreed to let the twins stay with him. But we would alternate weekends between Trevante and I which I wasn't mad about. Plus, I agreed to pick them up after tutoring and spend time with them.
I sat in my car in front of the school entrance bobbing my head to Meek Mill, "Tony's Story," as I rolled me a joint. I had to be here an hour and a half early just in case Pamela would attempt to try some shit and this was occupying my time.
I grabbed the envelope lining up my weed, glancing up as I saw a group of older kids surrounding this little kid who sat on the bench dressed in a tank top and basketball pants his hair in two braids to the back. He dribbled the ball under his legs and once the dudes took a seat next to him; he stopped. I was curious what would happen. It just didn't feel right seeing some little dude around these grown ass gooks.
I cracked the window slightly turning down the music listening on to the conversation.
"So what's up Ni, you got that shit right?" one said as the boy shot him a look.
"The fuck you so loud fo? You feds?" he countered as he reached in his backpack taking out a black Ziploc bag making me take a double take at the bag.
"Man, shut your little ass up before I rob your ass," I overheard and looked closer at the bag.
I know Black mafia product like the back of my hand from the years I used to deal. From their sloppy exchange, I saw the small glowing BM logo on the back of the bag.
"Fuck," I mumbled, sealing the blunt and placing it behind my ear.
I knew every corner boy, especially in this area, and this little kid wasn't one of them. Plus, he was too fucking young to even be in the streets slanging weed. So, it was he stole from someone or I had a dumb ass worker thinking they can cut corners.
I didn't want to embarrass him so I let him make his sales. After about five minutes, the group left making my cue.
I got out the car walking over to him and took a seat as I looked forward.
"I hear you got that shit," I stated as he glanced at me starting to dribble his basketball again.
"What you need?" he asked.
"Everything and the money too," I ordered as he stopped turning to me puzzled.
"The fuck is you, feds?" he questioned making me chuckle.
