Mr. Perfect Ch. 3
I was sitting out side in front of my store in Gainesville chopping it up with an old
friend of mine named Gene. We had a bottle of Hennessey that was half empty. Now
Gene was one of them old school hustlers that always had something to show for his
hustle. You could just look at him and tell that he was a dope boy. Big jewelry, mouth
full of gold, candy paint, big rims, and loud music. But even though he looked to be just
another ignorant nigga begging for a prison sentence, once you got to know him, you
would probably think he was a college professor of Narcotics 101. We had a lot in
common and even though we had never did any business together, we got along very
well. By him being a bit older than me, he always felt the need to tell me when I was
slipping or making a bad business decision. We both were very flashy people who loved
to flaunt our money. But when it came to me, he always felt the need to tell me when I
was doing too much. In his exact words he would say, "Now E that's a bit much "... I was
supposed to be a legit business man with a clothing store. It was called Miami Fashions.
The only problem was that I was still selling dope like it was legal. Customers that came
in to buy a snap-back hat had the slightest idea that there was an AK-47 and a half kilo of
high grade Colombian cocaine under the sofa in the office. I was the plug. And when I
made a transaction at the shop, they would walk in and purchase a pair of shoes and I
would put the order inside of the shoe box. This went for two straight years without a
hitch. Everyone thought I was just selling clothes and shoes. Everyone except the people I
sold to , and the feds. My store was on front street in one of the busiest areas in the hood
on the eastside of Gainesville. I knew that I had plenty of niggas that hated my guts
because I had been stunt'n since I jumped off the porch. I had a box chevy with rims and
sound when I was in the 11th grade. So of course the jealousy was through the roof whenever my name came up. I heard so many rumors about myself until it didn't even
surprise me anymore. Everyone had speculations on how I was getting money. They knew
that I grew up in the projects because they were right there with me. By the time I knew it,
I was the talk of the town. They said everything about me that you could imagine to
assassinate my character in any way they could. They said I was working for the feds and
that the government paid me $5,000 per month. They said I had HIV. They say that I was
robbing dope boys. They say I was dealing in counterfeit money. They say, they say, they
say.... I guess it didn't help that I had my Mercedes and my Jaguar parked at the shop
everyday. And it really didn't help to wear my chain and my watch while I was at the shop
working. I made it look easy. But in reality, my freedom, as well as my life were
constantly on the line. I had 2 women for every day of the week. And of course most of
them had other guys who they dealt with other than me. I would be a complete fool not to
assume that this was the case. A few felt the need to exploit the fact that she was on my
team for whatever reason.
The next day I was at the shop and one of my workers was inside talking to a nice
looking chick that I had never seen before. She was bad , but her interest in him had me
completely confused. I went back to my car and smoked a blunt while they chatted inside.
When she left I walked in and asked who she was. And for me to inquire about a female
was totally out of my character unless she was simply amazing. And she was simply
amazing. "Damn bro who that ?" "Oh boy that's this lil young chick that live down the
street. Her name is Candice." "Oh yeah ,you beat that?" of course he said yes but I know
he was lying by how long he took to answer. So when I saw her a few days later, I
decided to ask her myself. She said she was only being friendly with him and that she was
really interested in me but didn't know if I had a woman or not. We got acquainted over
the next few weeks and the more I was around her I began to question her age. She told
me that she was 20, but she seemed a bit too concerned about her hair, nails, and her cell
phone bill. I thought nothing of it because the only time I saw her was when it was time to
shake something. She seemed trustworthy to a certain extent. But I don't trust nobody so I
paid close attention to her and the way she carried her self. She had been to my house a
few times for some late night action. I concluded that she was immature if she was 20
years old because all “ real women “ that I have met aren't materialistic. And those who
are have their own. Period. So one day one of my lil side chicks named Peaches called me
cussing me out about Candice. "Oh nigga I know all about the lil young girl you been
mess'n with named Candice. But you better be careful because I also heard that she was
helping a nigga from Jacksonville set you up to rob you". I was shocked, but not because
she knew about Candice, I was shocked that she said Candice was trying to set me up to
get robbed. I guess all that shining done caught the wrong nigga eyes. But after all the
people I had robbed and pistol whipped and shot, I was more than ready for any situation.
This nigga really didn't know who he was dealing with. I could teach a class at Harvard
about going to war in these streets. But I guess this nigga looked at me and felt like I was
soft or a pretty boy. Little did he know I used that as a tactic to be devious. She said his
name and I didn't know him by his name , but I had seen him around town for the past
few months. He rode around in a black BMW-750 with some big rims on it. We had a
mutual homeboy named Josh from Ocala. So when I first got wind of the rumor that he
wanted rob me, I immediately made 2 phone calls. The first was to Candice. "Look bitch !!! You better tell me what I want to know right damn it now or I'm about to come kidnap
you, your grandma, and your baby and hold all y’all hostage until I find this nigga!!! She
instantly started sobbing because she had been around me long enough to know that I was
serious. She knew I could go 0 to 1000 in 3.5 seconds. And right now I'm at about 5000.
"All I know is he asked me where do you live at, and he asked me if you had a safe or if I
knew where you kept your money and dope." I hung up the phone and went straight to her
house. She took a few minutes to come out and I could see the fear on her face. Her eyes
where red from crying. When she got in the car I pulled off. "Take me to that nigga right
now or I'm about to leave your ass in a ditch. "Bae I'm sorry !!! I swear I didn't know!!!"
She took me to an apartment complex on the west side of town. I spotted his car outside
and she pointed out the exact location where he lived. I took her home. She was so happy
that I didn't harm her that she actually attempted to kiss me before she got out the car. I
leaned in towards her , then I grabbed her entire face with my left hand and squeezed it as
hard as I can. I mushed her into the passenger window so hard that I almost broke the
window. "Bitch don't you ever think about calling my phone again, ever in yourm life !!!
You dead to me bitch !!!" I spit in her face and pushed her out my car. I called one of my
homeboys named J-Rock that just so happened to live in the same apartment complex
that Candice took me to. "Bro, I got some cash for this nigga that live out there by you.
He drive a black BMW-750." He replied, "Yeah I see that nigga out here. He be trying to
sell a lil dope but he petty hustling. He be buying 50 packs from me." When J-Rock told
me that he was buying 50 packs from him, I figured right then that he was either a jack-
boy or the police. Either way, he was about to get a reality check. My favorite quote is,
"Nigga I just look like this... Don't let these waves and this light skin fool you.." I came
up robbing niggas. The few times that he had came in the shop, it seemed like he was up
to no good. But so was I so I brushed it off. J-Rock called me the next day and said that
the chick that he was living with just left in his car. "O.K. I'm on my way." I headed to J-
Rock house and got ready to give this nigga the bizness.. On the way I had to stop and
pick up Emmit. Emmit was the local crackhead that everybody in the hood was scared of
because he was big as hell and a renegade baser. Meaning he would do anything to get
another hit of crack. I once paid him $500 to kill 2 females that broke into one of my
traps when I was in Daytona. He set their house on fire while they where asleep late one
night. They both made it out alive but they couldn't save the baby. He was only 2 months
old and died from smoke inhalation. It still bothers me to this very day, but the chick who
baby it was acted like it was a weight off of her shoulders. In fact , she knew I sent the hit
on her and her girl, but still tried to offer to trick with me for a molly after the fire
incident. These streets crazy out here. Emmit had the lighter fluid and duct tape. We got
to J-Rock house and recruited one of the lil bad kids from the hood to knock on this nigga
door. "Excuse me sir, can I use the phone to call my mom? I am locked out of the house
and have no way to call her." When he turned around to go and get the phone, Emmit and
J-Rock walked in behind him. J-Rock had the AK-47. Emmit had the duct tape and
lighter fluid. J-Rock closed in on him and quietly said, " nigga lay yo ass down and don't
move. This dude was about 6 and a half feet tall and 280 pounds of pure prison muscle.
But all that don't mean a thing to an Ak-47. Or any other gun for that matter. Emmit
walked over to him and started duct taping his hands behind his back. At first he
cooperated. But when Emmit started spraying the lighter fluid on him he started yelling
like a lil bitch. " Man I don't have no money, man what y'all want ?" " As soon as he
started yelling, a little girl walked into the living room crying and scared from all the
commotion. Emmit and J-Rock looked at one another and decided it was time to leave.
They ran out of the apartment as fast as they could. They didn't want to involve the child.
And I am glad they didn't. I was still shell shocked about the baby that had died in the
fire. We met up at my shop later that night. "When the little girl came out we just took
off and left the nigga tied up on the floor". I told them that they had made the right
decision. I called Candice after they left and told her to give me the nigga phone number.
I called him and told him to come by the shop the next day. " Yeah homie this E. I heard
you was looking for me. Stop by my shop tomorrow at 1 or you'll get another visit from
my friends." He started yelling threats and cursing so I just hung the phone up. I wasn't
sure he would come, but I prepared for it just in case he did. A wise king never seeks out
war, but must always be prepared for it. So I had my little brother Terence across the
street. He's a correctional officer with a concealed weapons permit. Lil bro had more guns
than the U.S. army I also had my 9 milimeter in my waist and I was ready for whatever. It
wasn't long until he showed up at my shop with 2 cars full of his goons. He jumped out of
the backseat of one of the cars and walked to the door of my store. I watched him on the
surveilence camera and hit the unlock button under my desk. Gusto was at the other side
of the entrance and patted the nigga down before he came in. I guess he was feeling brave
but unsure what to expect when he got there. His homeboys waited in the car because
from what I saw, most of them niggas already knew me. So I'm more than sure they had
already told this nigga that he had his hands full. I stepped out of the office and asked
Gusto to leave us to talk for a minute. As soon as Gusto walked out he asked me if I had
anything to do with his house being invaded the day before. I said, " Listen homeboy, I
don't know what in the hell you done heard about me, but if you trying to plot to rob me,
it might look like an easy lick. It might look like a sweet lick. But trust me when I tell you
homie, this ain't what you want. I know you see me with these cars and jewelry, and
flashy everyday, but I came up from robbing and plotting on niggas. So how you gone rob
the robber? Plus I'm a single dad and I've had full custody of my 3 kids for the past 5
years. And I will kill or die in order to protect them." He looked me in my eyes the whole
time, but when I told him that my kids lived with me and I was a single dad, his head
dropped and he started looking down at the ground. While I was talking, I pulled the
pistol out of the front of my waist and held it behind my back while I was talking. He
started to talk and I gripped my pistol even tighter behind my back. This dude was twice
my size, but by law I could knock his ass down right now and the only thing I would do
time for is possession of a firearm by a convicted felon. I thought about it while he was
talking. I could kill this nigga, put my other gun in his hand that was under my desk and
tell the police he was trying to rob the store. And the more he talked, the more I gave
serious thought to taking this dude life. He began to tell me how he and Candice was at a
hotel pillow talking and my name came up. She was about to give him some ass, but at
the same time telling him that I was her boyfriend. He said Candice told him that she was
at my house a week before and helped me count $25,000 in cash. She also told him that
she saw a large amount of cocaine in my bedroom the same night. All that was a big lie
because I didn‘t let nobody in my game room like that. "She said that she would come
spend the night with you and leave the front door unlocked so I could come in and rob
you ". I asked if he knew where I lived at and he said no. He said all he knew was that I
was the only black person that lived in the neighborhood out past the mall. The top of my
head was to this nigga chest, but here he was about to apologize to me for the entire plot.
He said." I ain't gone lie my nigga, I was plotting on you, but Candice gave me that idea.
I'm just broke as hell and I moved here to come up because niggas in Orlando trying to
kill me. I just need to come up and I need help." Now me ,being the business man that I
am, I looked at this situation as a power move. But being the street nigga that I am, I
didn't trust this nigga at all. I said, " well what do you want from me ?" I asked. And this
big dumb ass nigga had the nerve to ask me to front him some dope. I said, " Check this
out. I can't front you no dope, but if you can come up with $500 dollars, I will sell you
$5,000 dollars worth of counterfeit". This nigga face lit up like he had just won the
lottery. He said to give him a few days to get up the money, and he would call me. A few
days passed and he called me to say that he had the money. We met up at the carwash and
he got into my Mercedes. It's funny how money will change a situation. He paid me the
$500 and I gave him the counterfeit. Before he got out of the car I told him do not try to
use that counterfeit for anything legal. Only use it to buy dope or gamble with it. Even
buy some stolen stuff or bet on a dog fight. Just don't try to use it for anything other than
doing dirt. He got out of my car still smiling.
The next morning I woke up around 11a.m. to about 30 missed calls on my cell
phone. My cousin J.B. ran the shop for me and was texting and calling me all morning.
When I called him back he was frantic. “Cuz the Feds been at the shop looking for you!
They rushed me as soon as I opened up this morning”! I went home and began to get rid
of evidence. I put the printer, rubber gloves, ink, and receipts in the trunk of my Jaguar
and headed to Crystal River. I was 10 minutes away from the house when my neighbor
called. “ Eric the Feds just kicked your door in at your house !!! “ 5 minutes after that my
cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number. It was a Jacksonville area code 904 number. I
nervously answered. Before I can even say hello, a voice came across the other end. “
Hello Mr. Harris ? Mr. Harris this is Special Agent Nichols from the United States Secret
Service”. I dropped my head and closed my eyes with the phone still to my ear. “Hi Sir”,
I said. “Mr. Harris we know you are headed to Crystal River because you heard we were
looking for you. I will leave you my direct number to call me. I need you to be at my
office in Jacksonville tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.”. I grabbed a pen out of my glove
compartment and wrote down the number. He kept talking saying that someone had been
caught with some counterfeit money and said that they got it from me. I assured him I was
innocent and would be at his office the next morning. As soon as we hung up I turned the
car around and called my ride or die. Patricia was the type of female that would be there
for me no matter what. I could call her anytime of the day or night and she came. So in
return I did the same. I told her that we need to talk but not on the phone. She told me to
come over and I went to her house. I parked my car behind her house in an attempt to
hide because everyone in town knew my cars. She came to the back door and let me in.
That’s when I told her everything that had taken place. She asked if I wanted her to drive
me to Jacksonville the next morning. I said, “ Yeah but first I need to get rid of the stuff
in my trunk.”
We got into her car and headed to get rid of all the evidence. I spent the rest of the night
with her and she really made me feel better. The next morning we woke up and she drove
me to Jacksonville in my Jaguar. It was black with black rims and I decided to take that
so I wouldn’t appear to be hiding anything. We arrived at the Secret Service office at
around 8:45 a.m. I called special agent Nichols and told him I was in the parking lot of
the building that he had instructed me to come to. A few seconds later he jumped out of
an SUV that we were parked next to and knocked on the drivers side window. I had 5%
tint all the way around the car so he couldn’t see inside. Patricia rolled down the driver
side window and as soon as he looked in he said, “Hi Patricia, how are you”? Me and
Patricia looked at each other like what the hell…
How did he know her name? I guess that’s why they call it the Secret Service. He asked
her if she wanted to come in and she politely said, “no thanks, I‘ll just wait right here”. I
followed him into the building not knowing if I would make it out a free man. We entered
the building and all over the walls were pictures of the President of the United States. My
knees began to buckle. He sat me down inside of an interrogation room. He walked in
shortly after and began telling the story about how the nigga from Orlando that was trying
to rob me , had robbed another guy 2 days ago and the guy who he robbed got the tag
number of the car he was driving and called the police. The police went to the address
that was attached to the tag on the car he did the robbery in. He was inside and they
arrested him. When they searched him for the money the he had just robbed the guy for,
they found $2500 dollars in counterfeit inside of his wallet. When asked where it came
from he told them my name. And that’s how it all went down. This nigga snitched on me
and now I’m in front of the feds. The agent said, “look, we already have him red handed.
And since he admitted that he had indeed purchased this counterfeit and he said he knew
exactly what it was he was buying, that’s all we needed to prosecute him. He told on
himself. All we need to know from you is why is he telling us that you sold him the
counterfeit money”. I took a deep breath and said, “ Sir , I am going to tell you the truth
rather it sends me to jail or not”. I began by telling him the story about how this dude
was trying to rob me. I told him about Candice and about how we finally came face to
face. I said, “He came up to my shop and asked me to front him some dope”. See, I was
smart enough to know that whatever I told him, I could not get in trouble by telling him I
sold dope. And no matter what I said, I couldn’t admit that I printed that money and sold
it to this dumb, snitch ass nigga. The agent told me that he had already looked into my
background and seen that I sold dope. I said, “ When this dude came to my shop to talk
about the fact that he was trying to rob me, he said he was broke and needed some help. I
told him to bring me $5000 dollars and I would sell him 7 ounces of crack. The next day
he brought me the money and I was getting ready to close my shop. I told him that I had
to go and locate my connect and I would call him the next day with the work. He said
cool, so stuck the money into my pocket and went home. When I got home sir, I took the
money out to count it and it didn’t look real. So I rolled it all back up in the rubber band
and called him the next day. I told him that my connect was out of town and I couldn’t
find no work. He then told me to keep the money until I found him some dope. I said that
I couldn’t do that and we began to argue on the phone. So sir what it came down to is that
he tried to buy drugs from me with that counterfeit and I have the slightest idea where he
got that money from”. The agent looked at me and asked me if that was the truth.
I said yes and he began to tell me that I need to get my lime together. He said, “ Mr.
Harris you have lots of potential and I know you have custody of your 3 kids from your
ex wife”. You need to get your life together. I have made the decision not to charge you
with the counterfeit money. But son you need to stay out of trouble and stay away from
guys like this. He not only has these charges for the counterfeit, he has a robbery and
attempted murder charges in Orlando. He robbed a man down there and he also has a
charge for having unprotected sex with a young girl. He gave her HIV and never told her
that he had it. And there’s a pending charge for the same crime in Ocala, Fl. “ I just
shook my head. He let me go but not before telling me that the DEA was looking to indict
me on federal drug charges. I’m not sure why he felt the need to help me but he did and I
am grateful for that. The nigga that snitched on me got 15 years for the counterfeit. He
should’ve kept his mouth shut. I walked out of that building feeling good that he wasn’t
going to indictment me. But now I have a whole new set of problems to deal with. The
DEA was about to indict me for dope, and this nigga had the HIV. I always, always, used
condoms when I slept with Candice and I stayed strapped up whenever I was tricking. But
this dude was screwing like 8 girls around here. And the agent said he had dropped a
young girl off at the clinic in Ocala and left her there. They called her and said her test
results where in from her blood work for the baby she was about to have. She was
pregnant from him. He dropped her off at the door of the clinic, and never went back to
pick her up. I think the first thing I need to do is go get tested. I had never taken an HIV
test and I was very afraid of the results. I took me about 2 weeks to finally get the nerve to
do it. I walked in and a black woman named Crystal took me to the back to do the test.
She started asking me about myself and telling me how great it was to see a young black
man come in and take the test. I thought about all the females that I had been with. Then I
thought about my kids and what they would do without me. I was a single dad and I was
raising them all by myself. There mother had been diagnosed with a terminal brain
disease called AVM. The doctor said she had a year left to live. I thought about all the
mistakes I made growing up and how all the decisions that I had made so long ago was
affecting me to this day. She sat me down in a chair and I started telling her about my
dreams and goals for the future. I told her that I wanted to help troubled youth and
convicted felons learn how to start their own business. She told me that the test only took
10 minutes to get the results. The she stuck a needle in my arm and began to draw my
blood. She took a few drops and began to test it for HIV. Those 10 minutes seemed to
take 10 hours. I sat there and I said a 10 minute prayer. She looked me in my eyes and
said, “Mr. Harris, are you ready to hear your results”? I tried to say yes but fear was
choking my voice box so I just shook my head yes and held my breath. “Your results are
NEGATIVE”!!! I exhaled. I felt like I could run around the world in 5 seconds flat. She
gave me a pat on the back and said , “young man, those kids need you. They need
someone to look up to and someone to give them hope”. I left the doctors office and went
to see Patricia. I sat down and told her that I was ready to settle down and get married.
We talked, and laughed, and made love, with a condom, and we cuddled and fell asleep.
Not perfect, but I was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. And I think God is
showing me the one I need to be with. She the only one who was there for me through all
these trials and tribulations. She wasn’t perfect, but she was beginning to look perfect for
me. A real ride or die chic. I really didn’t know they existed until I met her. She had
taken me to get work and make transaction time after time. No matter what the situation was she was
there without question.
I was sitting out side in front of my store in Gainesville chopping it up with an old
friend of mine named Gene. We had a bottle of Hennessey that was half empty. Now
Gene was one of them old school hustlers that always had something to show for his
hustle. You could just look at him and tell that he was a dope boy. Big jewelry, mouth
full of gold, candy paint, big rims, and loud music. But even though he looked to be just
another ignorant nigga begging for a prison sentence, once you got to know him, you
would probably think he was a college professor of Narcotics 101. We had a lot in
common and even though we had never did any business together, we got along very
well. By him being a bit older than me, he always felt the need to tell me when I was
slipping or making a bad business decision. We both were very flashy people who loved
to flaunt our money. But when it came to me, he always felt the need to tell me when I
was doing too much. In his exact words he would say, "Now E that's a bit much "... I was
supposed to be a legit business man with a clothing store. It was called Miami Fashions.
The only problem was that I was still selling dope like it was legal. Customers that came
in to buy a snap-back hat had the slightest idea that there was an AK-47 and a half kilo of
high grade Colombian cocaine under the sofa in the office. I was the plug. And when I
made a transaction at the shop, they would walk in and purchase a pair of shoes and I
would put the order inside of the shoe box. This went for two straight years without a
hitch. Everyone thought I was just selling clothes and shoes. Everyone except the people I
sold to , and the feds. My store was on front street in one of the busiest areas in the hood
on the eastside of Gainesville. I knew that I had plenty of niggas that hated my guts
because I had been stunt'n since I jumped off the porch. I had a box chevy with rims and
sound when I was in the 11th grade. So of course the jealousy was through the roof whenever my name came up. I heard so many rumors about myself until it didn't even
surprise me anymore. Everyone had speculations on how I was getting money. They knew
that I grew up in the projects because they were right there with me. By the time I knew it,
I was the talk of the town. They said everything about me that you could imagine to
assassinate my character in any way they could. They said I was working for the feds and
that the government paid me $5,000 per month. They said I had HIV. They say that I was
robbing dope boys. They say I was dealing in counterfeit money. They say, they say, they
say.... I guess it didn't help that I had my Mercedes and my Jaguar parked at the shop
everyday. And it really didn't help to wear my chain and my watch while I was at the shop
working. I made it look easy. But in reality, my freedom, as well as my life were
constantly on the line. I had 2 women for every day of the week. And of course most of
them had other guys who they dealt with other than me. I would be a complete fool not to
assume that this was the case. A few felt the need to exploit the fact that she was on my
team for whatever reason.
The next day I was at the shop and one of my workers was inside talking to a nice
looking chick that I had never seen before. She was bad , but her interest in him had me
completely confused. I went back to my car and smoked a blunt while they chatted inside.
When she left I walked in and asked who she was. And for me to inquire about a female
was totally out of my character unless she was simply amazing. And she was simply
amazing. "Damn bro who that ?" "Oh boy that's this lil young chick that live down the
street. Her name is Candice." "Oh yeah ,you beat that?" of course he said yes but I know
he was lying by how long he took to answer. So when I saw her a few days later, I
decided to ask her myself. She said she was only being friendly with him and that she was
really interested in me but didn't know if I had a woman or not. We got acquainted over
the next few weeks and the more I was around her I began to question her age. She told
me that she was 20, but she seemed a bit too concerned about her hair, nails, and her cell
phone bill. I thought nothing of it because the only time I saw her was when it was time to
shake something. She seemed trustworthy to a certain extent. But I don't trust nobody so I
paid close attention to her and the way she carried her self. She had been to my house a
few times for some late night action. I concluded that she was immature if she was 20
years old because all “ real women “ that I have met aren't materialistic. And those who
are have their own. Period. So one day one of my lil side chicks named Peaches called me
cussing me out about Candice. "Oh nigga I know all about the lil young girl you been
mess'n with named Candice. But you better be careful because I also heard that she was
helping a nigga from Jacksonville set you up to rob you". I was shocked, but not because
she knew about Candice, I was shocked that she said Candice was trying to set me up to
get robbed. I guess all that shining done caught the wrong nigga eyes. But after all the
people I had robbed and pistol whipped and shot, I was more than ready for any situation.
This nigga really didn't know who he was dealing with. I could teach a class at Harvard
about going to war in these streets. But I guess this nigga looked at me and felt like I was
soft or a pretty boy. Little did he know I used that as a tactic to be devious. She said his
name and I didn't know him by his name , but I had seen him around town for the past
few months. He rode around in a black BMW-750 with some big rims on it. We had a
mutual homeboy named Josh from Ocala. So when I first got wind of the rumor that he
wanted rob me, I immediately made 2 phone calls. The first was to Candice. "Look bitch !!! You better tell me what I want to know right damn it now or I'm about to come kidnap
you, your grandma, and your baby and hold all y’all hostage until I find this nigga!!! She
instantly started sobbing because she had been around me long enough to know that I was
serious. She knew I could go 0 to 1000 in 3.5 seconds. And right now I'm at about 5000.
"All I know is he asked me where do you live at, and he asked me if you had a safe or if I
knew where you kept your money and dope." I hung up the phone and went straight to her
house. She took a few minutes to come out and I could see the fear on her face. Her eyes
where red from crying. When she got in the car I pulled off. "Take me to that nigga right
now or I'm about to leave your ass in a ditch. "Bae I'm sorry !!! I swear I didn't know!!!"
She took me to an apartment complex on the west side of town. I spotted his car outside
and she pointed out the exact location where he lived. I took her home. She was so happy
that I didn't harm her that she actually attempted to kiss me before she got out the car. I
leaned in towards her , then I grabbed her entire face with my left hand and squeezed it as
hard as I can. I mushed her into the passenger window so hard that I almost broke the
window. "Bitch don't you ever think about calling my phone again, ever in yourm life !!!
You dead to me bitch !!!" I spit in her face and pushed her out my car. I called one of my
homeboys named J-Rock that just so happened to live in the same apartment complex
that Candice took me to. "Bro, I got some cash for this nigga that live out there by you.
He drive a black BMW-750." He replied, "Yeah I see that nigga out here. He be trying to
sell a lil dope but he petty hustling. He be buying 50 packs from me." When J-Rock told
me that he was buying 50 packs from him, I figured right then that he was either a jack-
boy or the police. Either way, he was about to get a reality check. My favorite quote is,
"Nigga I just look like this... Don't let these waves and this light skin fool you.." I came
up robbing niggas. The few times that he had came in the shop, it seemed like he was up
to no good. But so was I so I brushed it off. J-Rock called me the next day and said that
the chick that he was living with just left in his car. "O.K. I'm on my way." I headed to J-
Rock house and got ready to give this nigga the bizness.. On the way I had to stop and
pick up Emmit. Emmit was the local crackhead that everybody in the hood was scared of
because he was big as hell and a renegade baser. Meaning he would do anything to get
another hit of crack. I once paid him $500 to kill 2 females that broke into one of my
traps when I was in Daytona. He set their house on fire while they where asleep late one
night. They both made it out alive but they couldn't save the baby. He was only 2 months
old and died from smoke inhalation. It still bothers me to this very day, but the chick who
baby it was acted like it was a weight off of her shoulders. In fact , she knew I sent the hit
on her and her girl, but still tried to offer to trick with me for a molly after the fire
incident. These streets crazy out here. Emmit had the lighter fluid and duct tape. We got
to J-Rock house and recruited one of the lil bad kids from the hood to knock on this nigga
door. "Excuse me sir, can I use the phone to call my mom? I am locked out of the house
and have no way to call her." When he turned around to go and get the phone, Emmit and
J-Rock walked in behind him. J-Rock had the AK-47. Emmit had the duct tape and
lighter fluid. J-Rock closed in on him and quietly said, " nigga lay yo ass down and don't
move. This dude was about 6 and a half feet tall and 280 pounds of pure prison muscle.
But all that don't mean a thing to an Ak-47. Or any other gun for that matter. Emmit
walked over to him and started duct taping his hands behind his back. At first he
cooperated. But when Emmit started spraying the lighter fluid on him he started yelling
like a lil bitch. " Man I don't have no money, man what y'all want ?" " As soon as he
started yelling, a little girl walked into the living room crying and scared from all the
commotion. Emmit and J-Rock looked at one another and decided it was time to leave.
They ran out of the apartment as fast as they could. They didn't want to involve the child.
And I am glad they didn't. I was still shell shocked about the baby that had died in the
fire. We met up at my shop later that night. "When the little girl came out we just took
off and left the nigga tied up on the floor". I told them that they had made the right
decision. I called Candice after they left and told her to give me the nigga phone number.
I called him and told him to come by the shop the next day. " Yeah homie this E. I heard
you was looking for me. Stop by my shop tomorrow at 1 or you'll get another visit from
my friends." He started yelling threats and cursing so I just hung the phone up. I wasn't
sure he would come, but I prepared for it just in case he did. A wise king never seeks out
war, but must always be prepared for it. So I had my little brother Terence across the
street. He's a correctional officer with a concealed weapons permit. Lil bro had more guns
than the U.S. army I also had my 9 milimeter in my waist and I was ready for whatever. It
wasn't long until he showed up at my shop with 2 cars full of his goons. He jumped out of
the backseat of one of the cars and walked to the door of my store. I watched him on the
surveilence camera and hit the unlock button under my desk. Gusto was at the other side
of the entrance and patted the nigga down before he came in. I guess he was feeling brave
but unsure what to expect when he got there. His homeboys waited in the car because
from what I saw, most of them niggas already knew me. So I'm more than sure they had
already told this nigga that he had his hands full. I stepped out of the office and asked
Gusto to leave us to talk for a minute. As soon as Gusto walked out he asked me if I had
anything to do with his house being invaded the day before. I said, " Listen homeboy, I
don't know what in the hell you done heard about me, but if you trying to plot to rob me,
it might look like an easy lick. It might look like a sweet lick. But trust me when I tell you
homie, this ain't what you want. I know you see me with these cars and jewelry, and
flashy everyday, but I came up from robbing and plotting on niggas. So how you gone rob
the robber? Plus I'm a single dad and I've had full custody of my 3 kids for the past 5
years. And I will kill or die in order to protect them." He looked me in my eyes the whole
time, but when I told him that my kids lived with me and I was a single dad, his head
dropped and he started looking down at the ground. While I was talking, I pulled the
pistol out of the front of my waist and held it behind my back while I was talking. He
started to talk and I gripped my pistol even tighter behind my back. This dude was twice
my size, but by law I could knock his ass down right now and the only thing I would do
time for is possession of a firearm by a convicted felon. I thought about it while he was
talking. I could kill this nigga, put my other gun in his hand that was under my desk and
tell the police he was trying to rob the store. And the more he talked, the more I gave
serious thought to taking this dude life. He began to tell me how he and Candice was at a
hotel pillow talking and my name came up. She was about to give him some ass, but at
the same time telling him that I was her boyfriend. He said Candice told him that she was
at my house a week before and helped me count $25,000 in cash. She also told him that
she saw a large amount of cocaine in my bedroom the same night. All that was a big lie
because I didn‘t let nobody in my game room like that. "She said that she would come
spend the night with you and leave the front door unlocked so I could come in and rob
you ". I asked if he knew where I lived at and he said no. He said all he knew was that I
was the only black person that lived in the neighborhood out past the mall. The top of my
head was to this nigga chest, but here he was about to apologize to me for the entire plot.
He said." I ain't gone lie my nigga, I was plotting on you, but Candice gave me that idea.
I'm just broke as hell and I moved here to come up because niggas in Orlando trying to
kill me. I just need to come up and I need help." Now me ,being the business man that I
am, I looked at this situation as a power move. But being the street nigga that I am, I
didn't trust this nigga at all. I said, " well what do you want from me ?" I asked. And this
big dumb ass nigga had the nerve to ask me to front him some dope. I said, " Check this
out. I can't front you no dope, but if you can come up with $500 dollars, I will sell you
$5,000 dollars worth of counterfeit". This nigga face lit up like he had just won the
lottery. He said to give him a few days to get up the money, and he would call me. A few
days passed and he called me to say that he had the money. We met up at the carwash and
he got into my Mercedes. It's funny how money will change a situation. He paid me the
$500 and I gave him the counterfeit. Before he got out of the car I told him do not try to
use that counterfeit for anything legal. Only use it to buy dope or gamble with it. Even
buy some stolen stuff or bet on a dog fight. Just don't try to use it for anything other than
doing dirt. He got out of my car still smiling.
The next morning I woke up around 11a.m. to about 30 missed calls on my cell
phone. My cousin J.B. ran the shop for me and was texting and calling me all morning.
When I called him back he was frantic. “Cuz the Feds been at the shop looking for you!
They rushed me as soon as I opened up this morning”! I went home and began to get rid
of evidence. I put the printer, rubber gloves, ink, and receipts in the trunk of my Jaguar
and headed to Crystal River. I was 10 minutes away from the house when my neighbor
called. “ Eric the Feds just kicked your door in at your house !!! “ 5 minutes after that my
cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number. It was a Jacksonville area code 904 number. I
nervously answered. Before I can even say hello, a voice came across the other end. “
Hello Mr. Harris ? Mr. Harris this is Special Agent Nichols from the United States Secret
Service”. I dropped my head and closed my eyes with the phone still to my ear. “Hi Sir”,
I said. “Mr. Harris we know you are headed to Crystal River because you heard we were
looking for you. I will leave you my direct number to call me. I need you to be at my
office in Jacksonville tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.”. I grabbed a pen out of my glove
compartment and wrote down the number. He kept talking saying that someone had been
caught with some counterfeit money and said that they got it from me. I assured him I was
innocent and would be at his office the next morning. As soon as we hung up I turned the
car around and called my ride or die. Patricia was the type of female that would be there
for me no matter what. I could call her anytime of the day or night and she came. So in
return I did the same. I told her that we need to talk but not on the phone. She told me to
come over and I went to her house. I parked my car behind her house in an attempt to
hide because everyone in town knew my cars. She came to the back door and let me in.
That’s when I told her everything that had taken place. She asked if I wanted her to drive
me to Jacksonville the next morning. I said, “ Yeah but first I need to get rid of the stuff
in my trunk.”
We got into her car and headed to get rid of all the evidence. I spent the rest of the night
with her and she really made me feel better. The next morning we woke up and she drove
me to Jacksonville in my Jaguar. It was black with black rims and I decided to take that
so I wouldn’t appear to be hiding anything. We arrived at the Secret Service office at
around 8:45 a.m. I called special agent Nichols and told him I was in the parking lot of
the building that he had instructed me to come to. A few seconds later he jumped out of
an SUV that we were parked next to and knocked on the drivers side window. I had 5%
tint all the way around the car so he couldn’t see inside. Patricia rolled down the driver
side window and as soon as he looked in he said, “Hi Patricia, how are you”? Me and
Patricia looked at each other like what the hell…
How did he know her name? I guess that’s why they call it the Secret Service. He asked
her if she wanted to come in and she politely said, “no thanks, I‘ll just wait right here”. I
followed him into the building not knowing if I would make it out a free man. We entered
the building and all over the walls were pictures of the President of the United States. My
knees began to buckle. He sat me down inside of an interrogation room. He walked in
shortly after and began telling the story about how the nigga from Orlando that was trying
to rob me , had robbed another guy 2 days ago and the guy who he robbed got the tag
number of the car he was driving and called the police. The police went to the address
that was attached to the tag on the car he did the robbery in. He was inside and they
arrested him. When they searched him for the money the he had just robbed the guy for,
they found $2500 dollars in counterfeit inside of his wallet. When asked where it came
from he told them my name. And that’s how it all went down. This nigga snitched on me
and now I’m in front of the feds. The agent said, “look, we already have him red handed.
And since he admitted that he had indeed purchased this counterfeit and he said he knew
exactly what it was he was buying, that’s all we needed to prosecute him. He told on
himself. All we need to know from you is why is he telling us that you sold him the
counterfeit money”. I took a deep breath and said, “ Sir , I am going to tell you the truth
rather it sends me to jail or not”. I began by telling him the story about how this dude
was trying to rob me. I told him about Candice and about how we finally came face to
face. I said, “He came up to my shop and asked me to front him some dope”. See, I was
smart enough to know that whatever I told him, I could not get in trouble by telling him I
sold dope. And no matter what I said, I couldn’t admit that I printed that money and sold
it to this dumb, snitch ass nigga. The agent told me that he had already looked into my
background and seen that I sold dope. I said, “ When this dude came to my shop to talk
about the fact that he was trying to rob me, he said he was broke and needed some help. I
told him to bring me $5000 dollars and I would sell him 7 ounces of crack. The next day
he brought me the money and I was getting ready to close my shop. I told him that I had
to go and locate my connect and I would call him the next day with the work. He said
cool, so stuck the money into my pocket and went home. When I got home sir, I took the
money out to count it and it didn’t look real. So I rolled it all back up in the rubber band
and called him the next day. I told him that my connect was out of town and I couldn’t
find no work. He then told me to keep the money until I found him some dope. I said that
I couldn’t do that and we began to argue on the phone. So sir what it came down to is that
he tried to buy drugs from me with that counterfeit and I have the slightest idea where he
got that money from”. The agent looked at me and asked me if that was the truth.
I said yes and he began to tell me that I need to get my lime together. He said, “ Mr.
Harris you have lots of potential and I know you have custody of your 3 kids from your
ex wife”. You need to get your life together. I have made the decision not to charge you
with the counterfeit money. But son you need to stay out of trouble and stay away from
guys like this. He not only has these charges for the counterfeit, he has a robbery and
attempted murder charges in Orlando. He robbed a man down there and he also has a
charge for having unprotected sex with a young girl. He gave her HIV and never told her
that he had it. And there’s a pending charge for the same crime in Ocala, Fl. “ I just
shook my head. He let me go but not before telling me that the DEA was looking to indict
me on federal drug charges. I’m not sure why he felt the need to help me but he did and I
am grateful for that. The nigga that snitched on me got 15 years for the counterfeit. He
should’ve kept his mouth shut. I walked out of that building feeling good that he wasn’t
going to indictment me. But now I have a whole new set of problems to deal with. The
DEA was about to indict me for dope, and this nigga had the HIV. I always, always, used
condoms when I slept with Candice and I stayed strapped up whenever I was tricking. But
this dude was screwing like 8 girls around here. And the agent said he had dropped a
young girl off at the clinic in Ocala and left her there. They called her and said her test
results where in from her blood work for the baby she was about to have. She was
pregnant from him. He dropped her off at the door of the clinic, and never went back to
pick her up. I think the first thing I need to do is go get tested. I had never taken an HIV
test and I was very afraid of the results. I took me about 2 weeks to finally get the nerve to
do it. I walked in and a black woman named Crystal took me to the back to do the test.
She started asking me about myself and telling me how great it was to see a young black
man come in and take the test. I thought about all the females that I had been with. Then I
thought about my kids and what they would do without me. I was a single dad and I was
raising them all by myself. There mother had been diagnosed with a terminal brain
disease called AVM. The doctor said she had a year left to live. I thought about all the
mistakes I made growing up and how all the decisions that I had made so long ago was
affecting me to this day. She sat me down in a chair and I started telling her about my
dreams and goals for the future. I told her that I wanted to help troubled youth and
convicted felons learn how to start their own business. She told me that the test only took
10 minutes to get the results. The she stuck a needle in my arm and began to draw my
blood. She took a few drops and began to test it for HIV. Those 10 minutes seemed to
take 10 hours. I sat there and I said a 10 minute prayer. She looked me in my eyes and
said, “Mr. Harris, are you ready to hear your results”? I tried to say yes but fear was
choking my voice box so I just shook my head yes and held my breath. “Your results are
NEGATIVE”!!! I exhaled. I felt like I could run around the world in 5 seconds flat. She
gave me a pat on the back and said , “young man, those kids need you. They need
someone to look up to and someone to give them hope”. I left the doctors office and went
to see Patricia. I sat down and told her that I was ready to settle down and get married.
We talked, and laughed, and made love, with a condom, and we cuddled and fell asleep.
Not perfect, but I was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. And I think God is
showing me the one I need to be with. She the only one who was there for me through all
these trials and tribulations. She wasn’t perfect, but she was beginning to look perfect for
me. A real ride or die chic. I really didn’t know they existed until I met her. She had
taken me to get work and make transaction time after time. No matter what the situation was she was
there without question.
This is dummy text. It is not meant to be read. Accordingly, it is difficult to figure out when to end it. But then, this is dummy text. It is not meant to be read. Period.
ConversionConversion EmoticonEmoticon