Last Bitch Standing Read Free Page B

down some stairs. He lived in a basement apartment. The building brought
back memories of the projects I grew up in while living
in Brooklyn. No matter how huge the mansions or fly the
whips I pushed and the diamonds I rocked, the Brooklyn
projects ran through my blood.

    "So, I understand you got some information about
Devon," I said, as soon as we got inside of dude's
apartment and the door closed behind us. I wanted to
get straight to the point, tired of constantly coming up
empty.
    "Yeah... umm... I ain't got nothing but some water
and beer. Would you all like some?"
    "No, we good," Nico let it be known, because he saw
me slit my eyes, ready to cut up. "So, you got information
for us?"
    "I do," Curtis replied casually while popping open
his beer before sitting down on a dingy vomit-brown
colored sofa.
    "Cool, so spill," Nico countered.
    "Well, Devon used to do some work for my cousin
who was from New York, before he got a fancy job
working for some big time nigga in Beverly Hills." I knew
dude had to be talking about Supreme.
    "Has he still been in contact with him?" Nico further
pried. I could tell that like me, he was ready for the nigga
to get to the point.
    "That's the thing. For months he didn't hear a peep
outta dude. He figured shit was going real good for Devon,
and my cousin was happy for him. Not me though. I always thought that nigga was a snake. He seemed real
sneaky. Then, he used to make smart ass comments that
my cousin got all the smarts and I was the dummy of
the family, shit like that. I could tell he thought he was
better than me, so I figured he got around all those fake
ass Hollywood people and forgot where fuck he came
from-you know, his homies back in the `hood."

    "Right," Nico nodded as if in agreement.
    "But then, one day a few months ago, out of the
blue, here comes Devon, calling my cousin saying he had
got jammed up and needed some financial help. Because,
you know, my cousin be making that major paper out in
the streets. I used to make a little money myself before I
got locked up. I used to be the..."
    "Listen, we ain't got time to reminisce with you. Tell
us what the fuck you know so we can bounce!" I spit,
agitated with the nigga already.
    "You have to excuse her. We had a long flight and
she's a little restless."
    I was vexed that Nico was making excuses for me,
but I also understood why. But I can spot a full of shit
clown, and this nigga sitting on the couch was one, with
his crusty mouth, unkempt clothes and the long overdue
haircut that was crying his name.
    "I feel you. So, like I was saying, I used to be the
man. Making money, living good, with countless women
checking for me. You get locked up, come home with no
bread, shit changes real quick."
    I didn't know how much longer I could stand to listen to this broke man's sob story.

    "But I'm sure your cousin is looking out for you,"
Nico said, playing into this nigga's foolishness.
    "Look around this joint. Do it seem like he's looking
out for me? Naw, he say that wit' me just gettin' out the
joint and being on parole, I'm too hot to fuck wit'. He
gives me a few bucks every once in a while, but he one of
those niggas that's funny wit' his money. Always saying
you got to earn your way in life. You know, like they can
actually take it wit' `em once they die."
    "I feel you. Then the money I agreed to pay you
should come in handy."
    "Most definitely."
    "Cool. I'm sure the dude that linked us up already
told you that once you've fully cooperated and I make
sure the information is legit, we good."
    "Oh, it's legit. I promise you that."
    "So, let's hear it."
    "But... umm... the thing is, I think I'ma need a little
bit more money than we originally agreed to."
    "Here the fuck we go with this bullshit!" I huffed,
knowing this clown was gon' be a problem.
    "How much more money you talking about?" Nico
asked him.
    I wanted my hands on Devon more than anything,
but I felt Nico was being way