Street Fame by K. Elliott Read Free Book Online Page B

guy,” Mark Pratt said.
“And you really are a slave of the system, man. Don’t you understand what they are doing to Blacks and Latinos?”
“Manny, I’ve heard it all. I’m not in the mood for the Black-andLatino shit.”
“Fuck you. You’re a pig, just like the rest of them. Take me back to my cell.”
“Stand him up,” Donahue said.
The U.S. Marshals stood Manny up. He and Donahue made eye contact. They stared at each other for a long time. “Okay, Manny, I’m going to give you one more chance. Tell me who is your supplier and who are you supplying?”
“George Bush is my supplier, and I’m supplying DEA Agent Donahue and his two friends.”
“Get this disgusting bastard out of my face,” Donahue said. “He’ll come around soon enough.”
*****
    When Alicia opened the door to her apartment, she was wearing a form-fitting dress.
Tommy’s eyes were immediately drawn to her thighs.
When she saw him staring, she blushed a little.
“I feel like I’m dressed too casual.”
“How’s that?”
“Jeans and boots. You looking like you about to walk down the red carpet or something.”
She laughed. “Well, a fashionista has to look her best.”
“A fashionista ? What the hell is that?”
She giggled. “Tommy, you’re funny. Come on inside.”
Tommy walked in and sat on her couch. “You don’t mind if I sit down, do you?”
“You’re already sitting; what are you talking about?”
“I guess I am,” Tommy said, his eyes moving back to her thighs.
“Tommy, you’re looking at me like I’m a pork chop or something.”
“I ... just didn’t expect you to be looking like this, that’s all.”
“Well, Tommy, when you saw me the first time, I was dressed down. Then it was the gym; I don’t get dressed up for the gym,” she said. She walked past him with a slow, seductive walk.
“So where are we going? I got us some appointments for massages.”
“Come on, Tommy. It’s seven at night, and I don’t want to go for massages. Let’s go to dinner.”
“Where?”
“ The Palm .”
“ The Palm ... sounds expensive.”
“Yeah, it is kind of pricey, but I can pay for my own meal.” She winked.
Tommy felt a little insulted. Who in the hell did she think he was? He had money, and he could afford any restaurant in Charlotte. He pulled out a big wad of cash. “You’ll never pay for your own meal when you’re with me.”
Her eyes stretched. “Tommy! Rule number one: If you’re going to be a drug dealer … at least be smart about it.”
*****
    “Give me an apple martini,” Alicia told the young waitress. “Hennessey, straight,” Tommy ordered.
The waitress disappeared. Two minutes later, she returned with
the drinks, and took their orders.
    Tommy ordered the New York strip, and Alicia had the broiled salmon.
He made eye contact with her. He knew she was special. For starters, he could get an erection just by looking at her. Also … Well … that was more than enough. He could look at her forever. She was a good girl, and he longed to have a woman like her.
He began to think about the other side of his life—the street life. He thought about the next trip to Miami. He thought about the adrenaline rush he got from counting money. He had plenty, but he didn’t have happiness. But he was happy for the moment.
“Tommy, what are you thinking about?”
He cut his steak in small portions, thinking about how he should answer her question. He sure as hell didn’t want her to know that he was thinking about the streets. He finally looked up at her and smiled. “I was just thinking about us.”
Alicia smiled. “What about us?”
“I think we have chemistry.”
“We do. But, Tommy, I told you I can’t see us being more than friends unless you stop hustling.”
“Why are you so set against dating hustlers?”
“Actually, Tommy, my father sold drugs for many years, and it afforded me many things like ballet lessons, private schools, expensive cars, and more.”
Tommy was amazed. He never imagined