Rome

by C.N. Phillips

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

In the underworld of the drug games, even father and son may be led to face off.

Never let the left hand know what the right hand is doing… it was a lesson Rome Johnson learned the hard way. On top of the world and seemingly in full control of his environment, Rome ran the major inner city drug game in Atlanta. He had it all. The money, the house, the cars, jewelry and the cherry on top was the love of his young life, Draya. However, Rome’s reality is changed forever when the someone he trusted with his life double crosses him by joining forces with his rival and enemy, Slaw. Together they conspire to murder Rome, a deed they thought they succeeded in, and take over Rome’s operation.

Two decades after being assumed dead Rome is called back to the same streets he vowed to leave behind forever. Not for the money or the power, but for the son he never knew he had, Toosie. Young and with the same boss mentality as Rome, Toosie is more deadly than his father ever was. Taken under Slaw’s wing, Toosie is quickly rising up in the streets as the city’s next kingpin. However, when secrets come to light and Toosie finds out the truth about his father’s downfall, he is faced with a difficult decision: to continue on a path of self-destruction orchestrated by Slaw, or leave it all behind like his father did. Feeling the threat and worried that Rome is back for his stolen throne, Slaw decides to make the decision for Toosie by finishing what he started. Even if that means spilling Toosie’s blood alongside his father’s.

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Summer 2000, Atlanta, GA

“Baby, get up. Do you know what time it is?” A woman’s voice sounded in a large master bedroom.

Draya Saunders was petite, yet shapely, with a heart-shaped face. Her beauty was that of a timeless classic, and she wore her long hair straight and flowing over her shoulders. It seemed to blow back as she marched to the king-sized bed where a mound lay under the cover. Except it wasn’t a mound. It was Rome Johnson. Revered, respected and deadly, Rome was someone many wouldn’t dare to cross. However, at that moment, he was simply a kingpin at rest. He stirred in his sleep when the covers were snatched from over his face.

“Ro, get up, baby. Dru’s downstairs waiting on you,” she said.

Rome finally squinted his eyes open and allowed them to adjust to the light peeking through the curtains in the room. He groaned loudly, clearly annoyed to be woken up, but when he looked at her, his face instantly softened.

“Every time I see you, it feels like the first time,” he said earnestly in his deep, husky voice as his eyes examined every part of her.

He was smitten with her doe eyes, button nose, cheekbones that could land her a magazine cover and her full lips. Rome also loved it when she wore yellow, like the sundress she had on right then. It brought out the golden hue in her brown skin, he always said. Suddenly, he reached for her hand and pulled her down into the bed beside him, surprising her so much that she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Ro, stop,” she was able to say through her giggles as he kissed all over her. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Dru’s downstairs, and he been waiting on you.”

“If you wanted me up and out of this bed right away, you shouldn’t have worn this dress. You know what you was doin’.” He took a handful of her big apple bottom and squeezed gently while giving her another kiss.

“As much as I wish we could have a quickie, we can’t, baby. Aunt Flo came this morning.”

“Damn, I hate that bitch,” he said, and she laughed before climbing out of bed.

“I bet you do. I’ll tell Dru you’ll be down in a minute. Why didn’t you tell me Dru got a new car? That thing is gorgeous. I woulda got it in white, though.”

Draya left the bedroom and shut the door behind her, leaving Rome lying unsatisfied with stiff morning wood. He groaned again as a sudden rush of regret came over him. He wished he hadn’t gotten in so late the night before, so he could have gotten some of the goodness between Draya’s legs before she started her menstrual cycle. However, he had to handle some business, and, ironically, blood was involved then too.

Rome forced himself out of bed and went into the massive closet inside the bedroom. He grabbed some shorts along with a red-and-green Gucci shirt to throw on. After a few moments of looking at his large shoe collection, he decided on a pair of Air Jordan 1s. Walking into the en suite bathroom, he flicked on the light and did as he did many mornings. He looked himself over to make sure his humanity was still there. His chiseled chin, thin mustache and his goatee often made him look more serious than he wanted to, but when he showed his perfect, pearly whites, all that seriousness washed away. He ran his hand down his caramel complexion and sighed. Draya often told him that he was too fine to be in the streets, but he never knew what that meant. Finally, as his six-foot-two reflection stared back at him, he focused on his eyes in the mirror before concluding that his humanity was, in fact, still there. In his line of work, there was a thin line between being a human and turning into an animal. Over the years, he’d come across many men who had lost their way due to greed, but Rome had vowed always to move calculated. He loved the money and sometimes had to do unthinkable things to get it. But he never wanted to lose himself to the game because, if he did that, he’d never get out. And the end goal was always an exit. That was the reason there was a beginning in the first place.

Ever since Rome was a kid, he knew he had to be in charge. Not just because he wanted to be; he was a natural-born leader and hustler. He also had a profound understanding that simply possessing those qualities wouldn’t make him a boss; he had to apply them. Money had always been the greatest motivator because his household didn’t have much of it. His mother, Jelia, was a housekeeper at a local hotel and only brought enough in to make ends meet. And that meant the money ran out after the bills were paid and food was put in the fridge. There was barely any extra for Rome, his younger brother, Dru, or their little sister, Nami. He hated seeing his mother hurting about not being able to provide for them, and even more, he hated seeing his siblings being teased for their tattered clothing. As the oldest, Rome made the executive decision to become the man of the house since their father, Reggie, had run out on them right after Nami was born. He’d started a family with another woman and decided to leave them on the West Side of Atlanta to be with her. Rome always felt that it wouldn’t have been so bad had he not moved states and completely forgotten about them. The only thing Reggie left his children with was his blood running through their veins, and, in all actuality, that was all Rome needed to get a foot in the game.

At age 14, Rome approached his dad’s baby brother, Charlie, about starting his own operation. Charlie was 35 and, as most would call it, a scrupulous businessman. However, it wasn’t a secret in their family where he got all of his money from. And it wasn’t from the string of laundromats and clothing stores he owned. Charlie was a drug dealer, one of the biggest in Atlanta at the time. Not only that, but he was also a real killer. Rome smirked, thinking about the conflicted look on Charlie’s face when he asked to be put on.

“What the hell you gon’ do with a brick of cocaine, Ro?” Charlie had asked him that night in the living room of his luxurious home.

“Shit, if you don’t want to front me a brick, front me two pounds of weed, Uncle Charlie. I’ll get it off,” Rome had confidently answered.

“And I’ma ask you again, what the hell you gon’ do with that?”

“Sell it.”

“What you need to sell drugs for, Rome? Your daddy did some pussy-ass shit by walkin’ out on y’all. That’s why I’ll never fool with him again, family or not. But you know I got your mama through whatever. She know that. I hate that she never tells me shit.”

“Because that ain’t your responsibility. I’m the man of the house now. You got in the game when you was my age, right?”

“Times was different back then, though. Shit was easier. Now, you gotta be smart. One wrong move, and you’re either dead or locked up.”

“You don’t think I’m smart? Just because I’m only 14 don’t mean I don’t know how this shit go. I been around you my whole life, so that mean I been around the game too. So, you gon’ front me or what?”

“Your mama would kill me if she knew I got you out here selling weed.”

“You ain’t gon’ have me out here doing shit. I’m my own boss.” Rome all but puffed out his chest, making Charlie laugh.

“If I front you, how would you be your own boss?”

“Because when I flip it and pay you back, I’ma re-up. And that would make you my plug, not my boss.”

Rome had always wondered if the look Charlie had given him was intrigue or concern. Whatever it was, Charlie agreed to front Rome two pounds of marijuana without asking him exactly how he was going to get it off.

“I don’t want your mama knocking on my door, causing a scene,” Charlie said in farewell.

“She won’t. She gon’ be too busy shoppin’.”

Some called Rome cocky, to which he always disagreed. He was confident in himself and in his abilities. It might have shocked Charlie when Rome came back in a week with the money he owed, plus enough to buy two more, but it didn’t shock Rome. Charlie had some of the best weed in the city, not the dirt other hustlers were pushing. And that meant Rome had it too. It wasn’t hard for him to take on all the clientele on his block, which came with some blowback.

“You did what you said you would, and I respect that,” Charlie had said when Rome came for his second round of product. “But you can’t be out here wide open. Your name been buzzin’ in the streets. And you got some motherfuckas real mad right now. You just a kid.”

“So?”

“These streets are vicious, Rome, somethin’ you gon’ learn real fast. I could offer you protection, but I know you got your eyes set on havin’ your own shit goin’ on. So I’ma give you this instead.”

He handed Rome a small black backpack that felt heavy when Rome took it. He unzipped it and looked inside. Not only was the weed inside, but there was also a shiny, chrome pistol and a box of bullets.

“You gon’ need that, nephew. These motherfuckas gon’ try to do you in, so just make sure you squeeze first. Understand?”

“Fa sho,” Rome had said.

Rome’s humble beginnings were his favorite tales of his life. Even then, existing in the lavish life he’d created off two fronted pounds of weed, he felt pride thinking about all the hard work and sacrifices it took to move his family out of the hood.

He finished getting ready in the bathroom, but before walking out, he took the black durag on his head off, letting his deep waves breathe. He ran a brush over his hair a few times, and after he was satisfied, he went back into the bedroom to put on the finishing touches for the day—his gold Rolex and gold chain with a diamond “C” pendant on it.

When he finally made it downstairs, he saw his brother, Dru, sitting at the dining room table eating a big sandwich prepared by Rome’s housekeeper, Pea. Although Rome had the kitchen customized for Draya with marble floors, a large marble island, double ovens and white cabinets, it was truly Pea’s domain. Rome shook his head at his brother.

“It’s morning time. Why the fuck you eatin’ a sandwich?” he asked, pointing at the Scooby Doo sandwich.

“’Cause it don’t feel like morning when you been up since before the birds chirped, sleepy man,” Dru responded in the deep, mellow voice that always got the ladies’ attention.

Dru’s baby face kept their attention, since he didn’t have any facial hair, but he was tall and muscular like Rome. He was a shade lighter than his big brother, like their little sister, Nami. Also, like her, he had acquired the same light brown eyes their mother had, the ones that made their father fall for the woman in the first place. Dru either wore his hair in long, straight back cornrows or an Afro. That day, it was cornrows. He too was wearing a designer shirt and a chain around his neck; however, his pendant was a J for their mother.

“Yeah, whatever. I had a late night last night.”

“Late night? You good to check in on Old Lamont’s place? DeJuan, Amari and Melo ain’t checked in since yesterday morning, and Melo was s’posed to drop that money off to me last night.”

His words were a red flag to Rome. Mainly, because Amari, DeJuan and Melo were among his most loyal and had never been late on a drop. He felt his jaw tense, but had to push any negative thoughts from his mind for the moment. Instead, he just nodded.

“Yeah, we gon’ go there, but first, we got a cleanup job to do.”

At first, Rome had been against Dru following in his footsteps, especially since, in the beginning, their mother was against Rome bringing drug money into the house. Not because she looked down on it or Rome, but because she didn’t want to lose him to the streets or see him behind bars. Rome never wanted that fear to double for her, but although Dru was his little brother, he was his own man. Plus, he was only four years younger than he was, so Rome couldn’t stop him from picking up a gun if he tried. And honestly, it felt good to have his own flesh and blood watching his back. It was more motivation to make sure his operation was airtight. Nothing would ever happen to his brother under his leadership.

They rode in Dru’s brand-new gold Mercedes-Benz back to the place Rome was the night before. It was an old, run-down warehouse where their Uncle Charlie used to store all his clothing inventory. It hadn’t been used in ages, for clothing, anyway. It was outside city limits and a few miles away from any other place of business. Rome always asked Charlie why he wanted a warehouse so far away from everything, and Charlie would always say, “Because it’s away from everything.”

“Fuck, Ro, is that blood right there?” Dru asked after parking in the empty lot.

He pointed at the front of the building near the entrance door, and sure enough, there was what looked like a bloody hand streak. Rome glared at the spot Dru had pointed out and nodded.

“I ain’t mean to leave that there,” he said.

“That’s too messy. I don’t remember the last time you slipped like that,” Dru said and shook his head. He let out a long breath. “Do I even wanna know what happened?”

“A motherfucka almost got away from me.”

“And what led up to that?”

Rome turned to face his brother with the most serious look that he could muster. The words he was about to speak, he almost couldn’t believe them. Before he could even let them out, he had to clench his jaw first.

“We had some snakes in our camp,” he said finally.

“Nah,” Dru shook his head again, that time in disbelief. “Our shit is too solid. Wouldn’t nobody think about crossing you unless they from the other side. And Slaw ain’t thought to make a move on you in a while. He been staying in his territory.”

“Our shit solid, huh?” Rome chuckled. “I made the mistake of thinking that too—until last night.”

Flashback. The night before …

“Baby, please make it home on time tonight. I’m tired of being in this big-ass house by myself.” Draya’s voice came through the flip phone Rome was holding to his ear.

“I’ma try, baby. I just got one more stop to make,” Rome answered as he whipped his black Porsche into the parking lot of one of the four warehouses Charlie had left him. “Plus, you not there by yourself. Pea there, ain’t she?”

“You mean the lady who doesn’t like me? You know, for her to be a Black woman, you’d think she’d be nicer to me. She probably doesn’t like me because she thinks I’m stuck-up. And I’m not.”

“Well then, maybe you and Pea should try to get to know each other better. She been workin’ for us for a year now.”

“I’d rather watch TV and wait for you to get here. Hurry up.”

Rome smiled to himself when he heard the pout in her voice. Something about her poking out that bottom lip made him fold every time. And if they were making love, it made him come every time.

“A’ight. I’ma see you at home.”

They disconnected the call, and he closed the phone. Truth be told, he was already supposed to be on his way home. It was pushing ten o’clock, and he was tired. However, he knew that a shipment had recently arrived from his California connect, and he wanted to check on it. He noticed two trucks parked near him, which wasn’t surprising. He figured his soldiers, Clem and Shun, were getting the pack ready to distribute. Out of habit, Rome grabbed the gun from his glove compartment and tucked it in his waist before getting out of the car and walking to the entrance.

The night was still, and the only thing that could be heard was the bugs chirping in the grassy field beside the warehouse. Every warehouse that Charlie had passed down to Rome had been in a remote location, adding more to his boss appeal for Rome. His uncle had always been one of the smartest men he knew.

The enormous metal door groaned slightly when Rome pushed it open. Walking in, the thick air and smell of old dust and fabric hit him immediately like it always did. The lights were on, showcasing a once well used warehouse. It was how Charlie used to traffic all his drugs, through his clothing orders. And now that Rome owned all of his businesses, it became his way of life too. There were remnants of packing tables and clothing all around him, but Rome rarely used that warehouse for anything other than handling his dirty work. He’d chosen that one due to its discreet location and size. Since the shipment at hand was one of his largest orders yet, he was planning something big, something life changing.

In the distance, he could make out Clem, a tall, light-skinned, muscular man, and Shun, a dark, shorter, but still powerful man. The two seemed to be in the middle of having a conversation before Rome entered the warehouse and quickly turned to face him. They were both around his age, at 25, and had been working for him for the last five years. They were young gritters, but they were about their money just like him. However, the closer he got to them, something stood out to him. He didn’t see any drugs anywhere—no bags ready to go, nothing still being cut, no pills—nothing.

“What’s good, Clem? What’s good, Shun?” Rome said with a head nod.

Both returned the gesture. Clem wore his long locs in a ponytail on top of his head and had a mustache . . .