Page 30 of Street Heiress 3
The bartender came over, asking Elijah what he wanted to drink. Elijah saw that my empty shot glass was still on the table, so he asked me what it was that I had taken a shot of. I told him, and he ordered that, along with one for me, so that we could take shots together.
“You feel some kind of way that she’s fuckin with Dolo? Not to disregard your feelings, but this is Miami. Niggas take the bitch that other niggas want all the time. That’s enough to make her your enemy now?” I wanted to know. I knew that women would do petty shit like that, but I really didn’t know that niggas were moving the same way.
“You gotta understand that this ain’t some little ass beef that I got going on with Dolo. In the very beginning, it was. We were beefing over petty shit. It got deeper later down the line. Whenit’s money, drugs, and bodies involved, it’s no longer just some petty ass beef. You see I even sat down and questioned you about where you stood with that nigga. If you told me that you were still fuckin with him, I would have moved around. Depending on how many drinks I had in my system, I may have gotten so fucked up that I followed you home and killed your ass. That’s how bad I want everyone around him to drop. That fuck nigga tried me,” you could hear the hate that fell from every word that he said. I really didn’t know it was that deep.
I was looking him in his eyes, really trying to see if he was just talking shit, but you could tell that he was dead ass serious.
Look, me and Dolo were on fucked up terms right now. I was angry with him for how he just stopped fuckin with me and then turned around and did with the next bitch all the things that I wanted him to do with me. Even though I felt this way, I didn’t want anything to happen to him. I would be the first bitch at the funeral, down on my knees, screaming and crying if Dolo was killed.
“Damn Elijah,” was the only thing that I really had to say to that.
“Yeah, so tie up whatever loose ends that you have to with that nigga. I’m on his ass. I gotta show that fuck nigga that he can be touched too. I been quiet, and chilling lately because the business is fucked up right now, and I’m trying to get back on track with that. The second we get all that squared away, I guarantee you that I’m going to get at him. You can run and tell him that too. I wouldn’t give a fuck,” he just kept on talking.
I knew he wasn’t a real killer for real. You gotta understand that I’ve fucked with my fair share of niggas that were in the streets. Dolo wasn’t the only street nigga that I’ve ever dealt with. Dolo, or any other nigga would have never talked like this around me. They never exposed their hand like that. This nigga was doing way too much talking. It’s no way he was sitting infront of me, carrying on this conversation, making threats to me about all the things that he was going to do to Dolo. That was a rookie move.
I didn’t want to be around to endure much more of this conversation, so I quickly finished the lemon drop, pulled out some cash that was in my purse, that I placed on the counter for the bartender, and I stood up.
“Take care, Elijah. I really, really hope you know what you’re doing. I may not fuck with Dolo, and me and him will probably never be cool again, but I’ll give credit to him where it’s due. You know the kind of nigga that Dolo is. He’s never been the kind of person that you can underestimate. That’s not going to be an easy lick for you so good luck,” I let him know, putting my hand on his shoulder, and then I walked away.
I didn’t want to stick around and wait for a response from him. I’m sure whatever came out of his mouth next was going to be ignorant anyways.
I didn’t have a way of getting in contact with Dolo. He blocked me. I also wasn’t going to go out of my way to try and reach him from another phone number. Dolo wasn’t a weak nigga, so to be honest, he didn’t need the warning from me that Elijah was here talking crazy, and that he was gunning for him.
Ultimately, when it came down to it, I knew that Dolo knew what he had to do to stay alive.
Chapter 10
Elijah Montclair
“You expecting someone? Who is that at the door?” I asked my brother, Elias, as I was in the living room area with him at his house. We were sitting down together trying to brainstorm. We were in a fucked up situation right now.
It’s crazy because usually when big things happened within the organization, that we felt would be out of our hands, we would usually go to our pops. Even though he was no longer in the game, he has always been that person in our life with the most knowledge, so when shit got tough for us, he had answers. Our pops wasn’t fuckin with us right now though. To be honest, that man was so disappointed, and embarrassed to call us his sons, that I really didn’t know if he would ever fuck with us again. We haven’t spoken to him ever since that morning at his house when he stripped our positions from us and put his foot in our asses. Both Elias and I have tried reaching out to him, but he wouldn’t answer.
“Nah. I ain’t expecting nobody. Let me see who that is,” Elias said, standing from the couch.
I stood up too, making sure to grab my gun that I had resting on the small table that was in front of us. I was paranoid as hell these days. Too much shit going on, so even if I took a simple trip to the bathroom at my house, I didn’t do it unless I had my strap on me.
Elias made it to the door first, and he quickly looked out of the peephole. While he did that, I went over to the window that was right next to the door, and I looked out.
There were about five black trucks that were pulled out front of his townhouse. It’s almost like we both knew that that couldn’t be a good sign, so we instantly turned our heads to look at one another, but before we could really say anything, the front door was kicked in, and there stood two big ass Cuban niggas, and they had their guns drawn on my brother, and I.
“Drop your fuckin gun!” the bigger dude with the gun said to me.
He had a thick ass Spanish accent. There were tattoos all over his face, making his ass look ten times scarier than he would without them. I didn’t want to try him by keeping the gun in my hands, so I quickly tossed it down on the table. I put my hands up, and my brother did the same.
They made their way inside of the house, and at this point, I was still wondering what was possibly going on. I finally got the answers to my questions when someone walked in after them, making their strong presence known.
It was Eduardo. He was our supplier out of Colombia. Our dad said that it would come to this. Eduardo was a ruthless Colombian that didn’t play that shit when it came to his money. Usually, around this time, we would have been in contact with him, trying to re-up, but our drugs had been taken from us, so there was no money to give him that we could re-up with.
Eduardo wasn’t the biggest man. If I had to guess, I would say that he was probably 5’6, and he was slim. Clean cut kind ofguy. He had an innocence about him. From the outside looking in, if you didn’t know him, you would probably assume that he was one of those goofy guys that was into tech, or something like that. The way he moved, the way he carried himself, he didn’t give that he was a big-time drug supplier. He was in his middle fifties, but because the nigga was making so much money, and living a luxurious life, he didn’t look his age. He could go for a man that was in his thirties. Full head of nice, jet-black hair. His skin was healthy, and there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight.
Eduardo signaled for the two men that were holding their guns to close the door. Well, close it as best as they could because they kicked it in, knocking it off the hinges.
They went ahead, and closed the door, and now it was the three of them in here, plus my brother and I. Eduardo walked over to my brother, stood in front of him for about three seconds, and then he walked over to me, doing the same thing. He hadn’t said anything yet, but his presence was the loudest thing in the room. I was keeping a close eye on him, wanting to know what his next move was going to be.
He went over to an empty space near the wall, posted with his back against it, and he crossed his arms. For ten seconds, he didn’t say anything. It’s almost like he was purposely keeping my brother and I on our toes, wanting the suspense to build.
“What happened to my drugs?” he eventually asked us.
