Get Money Chicks

by Anna J. Forrest

Genres: African American Women's Fiction

Synopsis

For Mina, Shanna, and Karen, using what they had to get what they wanted was always an option. Best friends since day one, these "get money chicks" always had a thing for the hottest gear, luxurious lifestyles, and the ballers who made it all possible. All of this changes for Mina when a tragedy makes her open her eyes to the way she's living. Peer pressure and loyalty to her girls collide with her own morality, sending Mina into a no-win situation.

Will street life and fast money keep Mina trapped in the game or will she walk away from it all? Friendships are tested and life comes at you fast in the pages of Get Money Chicks.

Release date: October 1, 2012

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

“Bitch, what is you whispering for? I can’t hear a thang you sayin’,” my girl Karen yelled into the phone over the loud music playing in the background.

My heart was beating in my throat, and even if I had tried, I couldn’t speak no louder than I was at the moment. I collected my thoughts as best as I could, but all I could hear were sirens, the clink of handcuffs, and bars shutting behind me. Something told me to leave the club when I first started to, but I stuck around. Now my ass about to be put under the jail.

“Girl, you gotta go get Shanna and get over here quick. I think I killed him, girl.” By now, tears were rolling from the corners of my eyes like a run in a pair of stockings. I couldn’t breathe, and my vision was blurring as we spoke.

“Over where? Black Ron’s house? I thought you were in there pulling a caper?”

“Karen, listen to me. You have to go get Shanna and come over here now! I need y’all. I don’t know what to do.” I was screaming into the phone and crying hysterically.

“No problem. I think I just saw her pull up to the building. We’ll be there in like three minutes.”

Instead of responding, I hung up. Snatching my clothes from behind the chair, I slid into my gear quickly and went downstairs to wait for my friends. In my heart I hoped this nigga was just playing a cruel joke and was just trying to scare me. I couldn’t go to jail for murder. I didn’t have time to be fighting no bitches off me because I’m fresh meat, and, as sexy as I am, there’s no doubt they’d be trying to get at me. Just the thought of going to jail had me shaking in my stilettos, and if the tears that spilled down my face were any indication of how scared I was, I knew I wouldn’t last a second in the clink.

I paced the floor back and forth, wondering what was taking my girls so long to get there. Seconds felt like hours at that point, and I was about to lose it. Not even four minutes passed, and my girls were pulling up to Black Ron’s door. I breathed a temporary sigh of relief as I opened the door to let them in, but the moment the door was closed, I busted into tears and fell into Shanna’s arms. If my morning didn’t start out bad, my night was surely ending in the worst way. I still can’t believe he died right next to me.

“Mina, pull yourself together and talk to me. Where is Ron, and what happened?” Shanna said, making me stand up on my own two feet and wipe my face.

I sniffled a few times in an attempt to catch my breath. We took seats around the living room, and I ran it down to my girls. As painful as it was, I relived my day up to this point.

“I met Ron at the club last night, and we came here to handle our business. He was already drunker then a mu’fucka, so I knew getting ends from him was going to be a piece of cake. He was popping pills and drinking like crazy at the spot, so I gave him one of the els we soaked up in the fluid to puff on afterward. He was outside wilding out, and I didn’t want someone else to snatch his ass up.” I wiped snot and tears from my face. Me and Ron had been kicking it on and off for years, so it didn’t take much for me to get close to him. He already knew what it was hittin’ for.

Me and my girls were always about getting that money first, and for a while now we had been setting up dudes to take them for their cash. For the past couple of summers a lot of the guys out there in the Vill that smoke weed had been lacing their els with embalming fluid, better known as wiggles.

They claimed it was a high that you will never be able to achieve with just weed alone, but I’d be damned if I’d be trying it myself. It was supposed to have you so high that you think you seeing shit, but I remember one dude getting high off the shit and he thought he could really fly. He went up to the roof, thinking his ass was really Clark fucking Kent and jumped. He landed on top of a car that was parked below and died on the spot. I didn’t need to be puffin’ on shit that was gonna have me wilding out like that. When I saw that shit on the ten o’clock news, I still couldn’t believe it.

One night while sitting around blowing a couple of els with my girls, this cat from around the way named Cameron stopped by to chill with us for a while. That was nothing out of the ordinary because we were cool with a lot of the guys out there. We bought weed from them, so it was nothing for one of them to stop by and smoke with us at any given time.

Now, I had never personally seen anyone high off wiggles because we didn’t get down like that, but Cameron was known for lacing his shit. So when he pulled out his Dutch and asked if we wanted to puff, we all declined. Sitting back watching him was enough to boost our high anyway, so he smoked his shit and we smoked ours. He was high as a damn kite and barely standing when he got there so I was surprised that he still had enough energy to raise the Dutch to his lips.

We were all cool for a while, but halfway through his Dutch, Cameron starting talking out loud as if he was having a conversation with someone we couldn’t see. Me, Karen, and Shanna sat back and watched his ass, cracking the fuck up at him. He was really out of it, and didn’t even feel it when Shanna dug up in his pockets and took his cash. By the time he got done smoking the entire Dutch, his head was resting on his chin, and his eyes were so heavy he had to fight to keep them open. Finally, he gave in and passed the hell out.

Shanna didn’t want him to wake up in her spot and notice that his cash was gone, because who else could he blame but us for his money being missing? So, we slid him down the steps and propped his body up against the wall on the first floor and left him there. That way when he did wake up, he would just think he was robbed by someone outside.

When we got back upstairs, we were busting it up about what happened, and was trying to figure out how to get dudes fucked up just like that. It would be so much easier to get the money and jet, because nine times out of ten, they wouldn’t remember what happened the night before anyway. My uncle Thomas owned the funeral parlor next to the church over there on Woodland Ave, and I knew for sure I could get up in there to get at some embalming fluid in a jug, but we didn’t know how to put the shit together.

Two days later, we saw Cameron again and he still looked like he was in a damn zone. I asked him what exactly he did with the embalming fluid, faking like we puffed his el with him the other day and wanted more. He gladly told me what to do. I mean, if all I had to do was roll an el and dip it in embalming fluid and let it dry before smoking it, then I didn’t need to get a significant amount, just enough to get us by for a second.

The very next day after work, I went down to the parlor to holler at my uncle and see exactly where he kept shit. I had a juice container in my pocketbook that was almost done so that once I finished drinking it, I could fill it up with the embalming fluid. My uncle was of course happy to see me, and in the cold room where he kept the bodies, I could see huge canisters of fluid sitting up on a shelf.

Me and him were talking over a body when the bell on the front door chimed indicating that someone had come in. He told me he would be back in a second so I took that opportunity to swallow what juice I had left in the container and replaced it with a full container of embalming fluid. I already had the container tightly closed and back in my pocketbook by the time he came back in with his customer. When he went to pull out the customer’s family member, I used that excuse to leave.

Calling Karen from the corner, I told her to meet me on Sixty-third Street and I started walking down until I saw her car. When we got back to the crib, we did what Cameron told us to do and rolled up three els, each putting one in our purses. As to not look suspicious we had another el in our pocket that we kept separate. When it came down for the pass off, we could be smoking too so whoever we were with wouldn’t get suspicious.

Ron was already fucked up, so when I passed him the Dutch, he took that shit to the head without second guessing it. I stood on the sidelines and watched him, but when I saw that other chick trying to get close, I snatched his ass up and took him home before she or anyone else had a chance to scoop him up. She would not be fucking up my money that night.

I went on to tell them how Black Ron, the largest coke dealer in all of this side of Yeadon, was popping Xanax like they were lifesavers. He had already been drinking way before I saw him at Dixon’s, a local night spot over there on Hook Road in Sharon Hill where all the ballers hung out. He was up in that piece flashing money like he had just won the damn Power Ball, and I was on his ass before any of those other smut bitches could take advantage of his weak state of mind.

Now keep in mind that Dixon’s ain’t all that big. It’s a little hole in the wall no bigger than the downstairs of someone’s house. It had booths and tables set up all around, and the dance floor was as big as my kitchen. They tried to pack as many people as they could legally pack in at twenty bucks a head, so most of the time it was standing room only.

What made it hot was the drinks were reasonable and they weren’t watered down. The deejay was off the chain too, and the party popped until about three in the morning. Ballers from all over the tri-state area (New Jersey, Philly, and Delaware) came through, and it was fair game to any sister trying to get laid, paid, or both.

We left there around two in the morning and I ended up having to help him to his car and drive to his crib so he wouldn’t kill me and any other unsuspecting motorists behind the wheel. By the time we got to the crib, he was able to walk a little straighter, and he made it upstairs just fine.

My plan was to fuck him to sleep and help myself to a little bit of that money when he was out like a light. I would then ask him for money in the morning because I knew he didn’t know how much money he was throwing around last night. I mean, the late great Notorious B.I.G. said it best: “Never get high on your own supply.” A chick like me will catch you slippin’, and then the next thing you know, it’s curtains.

By the time I got finished taking a shower and came back into the bedroom, that nigga was lying back in the bed with his dick in his hand watching Bottom Heavy Hoes on the television. Silly me thought he would be out for the night because I watched him take that entire Dutch to the head, and judging by the effects it had on Cameron, I was expecting the same reaction with Black Ron. But I guessed I would have to work for my money this evening.

“You feeling better?” I asked him, inching closer to the bed. He turned his attention my way for a split second before looking back at the television. The girl moaning was a distraction, and was already working my nerves. Dude didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, but when you on tape, you do whatever to make your money.

“Yeah, my head is pounding a little, but I’m cool. Thanks for seeing that I got home. Out of all the tricks I fuck with, you’re the only one I truly trust.”

I didn’t say anything in response; instead, I toweled my body dry and began to apply some of the lotion he had on his dresser. I was waiting for the el that he puffed to take full effect because I could see his head getting heavy. A part of me was hoping that he would pass out before I had to actually do something. I pretended not to pay him any mind, but I saw him go from watching me to watching the porn movie. I made a display of massaging my breasts, and spreading my legs acting the entire time like he wasn’t in the room.

“Girl, get over here and ride this dick. What you puttin’ all that damn lotion on for anyway? You just gonna be ashy in the morning all over again.”

I continued to lotion my body like I didn’t hear what he said. He was stroking his dick in a long, slow motion, and I’d be damned if I didn’t want some of it. Black Ron was definitely working with some shit. I figured I might as well make it a two-for-one deal. Get the best nut of my life, and the cash to go with it. The fact that his dick curved upward and to the left wasn’t lost on me either. It was heavy too, and I knew for sure he would be knocking against my g-spot. My pussy was looking forward to it.

Walking over to the bed, I waited until I got to the side to drop the towel. Through half closed eyelids, Ron watched me give him head while he finger-fucked my pussy and smacked me on my ass. I was wondering for a second if he would be out before I was done because his head dipped to the side at least three times during the professional I was giving him. I started to wonder if I had used enough embalming fluid on the el I passed him.

I knew I gave him the right one because the one I had stashed on the side for my own use was already smoked down halfway from me pulling this same shit on two other dudes. I positioned myself on the side of him on the bed, and bent over Ron so that my breasts rested on his thigh and my legs were open for easy access. Deep throating Ron was a task in itself, and once I got into a comfortable rhythm, it was on.

Now, this nigga had been drinking Henney all night, so I thought this was gonna be forever. My head skills were impeccable, but put up against double shots of Hennessey, the tongue doesn’t have the same effect. To my surprise, in no time flat, I was swallowing all of his babies, but his dick was still standing at attention.

“Damn, girl. If you used your head for anything else, you’d be a genius. Get up here, and ride daddy’s dick,” he said in a slurred voice with drool running from the corner of his mouth. I could see the effects of the “special” Dutch I gave him, all the pills he took, and the liquor starting to work. It was only a matter of time before I dipped up in his pockets.

Ignoring the comment he made, I did what I was told; riding him like I’ve been taking horse riding lessons my entire life. I guess my momma’s dreams of me being a ballerina was crashed, because the woman I became was nothing like the little girl I was back in the day.

I was on his dick hard, knowing the payout at the end of the night would be marvelous. He flipped me on my back and stretched my long legs out in all kinds of directions, and I could have sworn I heard him saying something about loving me before he pulled his dick out and busted yet another nut in my face. I pretended like I enjoyed it while he panted all hard in an effort to catch his breath.

Reaching over to the side of the bed, I grabbed the towel to remove his children from my face. This dude was a beast, and although I could see him falling asleep, I knew it would be on again in the morning. I took that moment to take eight one hundred dollar bills from his pants pocket, and put it in my wallet before lying in the bed next to him. He snuggled up close to me, and before I knew it, I was asleep, too.

I woke up in the morning to him sliding his already hard dick into me from the back, and I had to clear the cold out of my eyes so that I could focus. This nut was a little quicker than last night, and I was grateful. I laid back in the bed and watched him stumble around the room, almost falling into the hallway over one of his Timberland boots. I laughed, but not out loud, because Black Ron was crazy and had been known to knock a chick upside the head for less. When he came back into the room, his eyes looked bloodshot, and he damn near crawled to the bed to get in it.

“You gonna be okay, B.R.?” I asked, noticing his breathing was getting heavier and he was breaking out in a sweat. I didn’t know what was wrong with him, but I couldn’t just leave him like that. I still had to get paid for my services.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Those damn pills got me trippin’,” he slurred as his eyes closed, and his head fell to the side.

“How many did you take?” I asked, scared as hell. I didn’t know what was happening, but I couldn’t call the cops because I knew that nigga had drugs or something up in his camp, and I’d be damned if I was going to jail for conspiracy.

“Like four of ’em this morning, but I’m cool. I just need to sleep it off.”

I didn’t answer. I just moved closer to him and let him put his head on my stomach. Not too long after that, he was snoring, and I was able to turn him on his back. I watched him for a little while, but before I knew it, I was asleep, too.

“And when I woke up, he wasn’t breathing and was foaming at the mouth,” I concluded my story in a loud wail. Lord, please, if you get me out of this one, I promise I’ll stop being a ho.

“Girl, he prolly just thirsty. Let’s go see what’s crackin’,” Karen said, and we all got up and followed her upstairs.

When we got into the bedroom, he was the same way I left him; sprawled out on the bed, ass naked with his dick pointing to the ceiling.

“Damn, that nigga working with that? I had no idea,” Karen said as she got closer to the bed.

I stayed my ass by the door, because I didn’t know if he was going to jump up or what.

“Damn, girl, I know you said you had a killer pussy, but I didn’t know you was for real about that shit.”

While Karen and Shanna stood there laughing and high-fiving each other, I was a nervous wreck standing in the doorway. I killed a man . . . I think, and I didn’t know what to do. How was I going to get my hot ass out of this mess? I tried to console myself by blaming his death on the liquor and pills, but I knew there was a strong possibility that the Dutch I gave him could have easily knocked him off.

“Okay, I got a plan.” Karen’s loud-ass mouth brought me out of my trance.

At that point, I was open to anything, as long as no one pointed the finger at me. I should have just let him leave the club with some other broad. There I was thinking about my pockets, and now I had a dead man on my hands. On the same note, every chick in there had the same motive, and that was to get paid. In my eyes I ain’t do nothing wrong. If anything, I helped him out.

“Okay, what is it?” Shanna scoped the room out. I was sure she was looking for something to take, and I could care less. I just wanted to leave.

“Mina, wash him and dry his body off. Fix the sheets around him when you’re done. Shanna, go get a trash bag out of the kitchen. It’s cleanup time.”

“I ain’t touchin’ his dead ass. You do it!” I yelled at her from in the doorway. I wasn’t about to go nowhere near Black Ron. The next time I would see his ass was at his funeral.

“Bitch, that’s your pussy juice all over him. You want the jakes to come and get your ass?”

I stood there for a second more before I ran to the bathroom to throw up. I couldn’t believe the turn my day took, and I knew if nothing else, I had to walk away clean. Taking the rag I used the night before from the sink, I soaped it up and went to the room to handle my business. It was hard for me to clean up Ron’s dead body, but what could I do? If I wanted to walk away with a clean slate, I had no choice. I didn’t want to get caught so I had to handle my business.

In the meantime, Karen had found his stash, along with his jewels . . .