was on his way to meet his connect and transport a few bricks of heroin from Canada back to Flint. He only wore professional attire to stay off the policeâs radar while moving the weight up and down the highway, a mistake that Apple made that wouldnât go in vain.
âSee you later,â he said as he left, not answering her question. Seven disappeared into the hallway and closed the door, leaving Hazel there alone. Hazel felt like a little child again as she watched Seven walk out the door with a bag full of money, just like Apple used to do.
Chapter Six
Seven cruised the highway with Rah-Rah on his passenger side. It was the first of the month and it was time for Seven go to cop from his out-of-town connect. Rah-Rah sat, sunk low in the passenger side with a black .45 pistol on his lap while he moved the toothpick around in his mouth with his tongue. Rah was black as night with smooth skin and a full beard that came three inches off his face. A three-sixty wave pattern graced his head and added to his neat look. Rah-Rah was Sevenâs shooter, his enforcer, and right-hand man.
âSo you fucking her or what?â Rah asked bluntly as he wondered about Hazel, who was back at Sevenâs apartment. Seven, always the one to choose silence over an explanation, remained quiet and smiled as Rah tried to get the 411. âMan, I know you hitting that,â Rah said, trying to convince himself. Seven just shook his head and smiled at how curious Rah was. âAll the years I have known you . . . You never let a chick move in with you. Not even GiGi,â Rah said, referring to his current girlfriend.
âHow those niggas over in the fifth ward moving through them joints?â Seven asked, quickly changing the topic of conversation. He was referring to the bricks of heroin that he had fronted them a couple of weeks back.
âThey are done with the first shipment. The young boys over there getting it. They just called me to re-up again.â Rah said, nodding his head in approval. Seven was the man who brought all the dope into Flint, but he let Rah be the front man. Seven just sat back and collected the money like a true boss should; just as Apple had taught him.
âCool. And the south side boys?â Seven asked.
âThey paid yesterday. They ready for some more joints too,â Rah answered. Seven could already feel the money in his hands, which made the trip they were taking to Canada all the more sweet. They just passed Detroit preparing to get on the Canadian bridge that separated Canada and Detroit. Rah-Rah also dressed in professional wear trying to hide their gutter appearance from any suspecting police just in case they got pulled over. The dummy gas tank under Sevenâs coupe was empty, but not for long. Soon it would be jam-packed with Saran-wrapped heroin bricks, making the car a few kilos heavier.
Meanwhile in Sevenâs apartment, Hazel walked back and forth, pacing the floor anxiously, while clenching her stomach, contemplating larceny. She was itching for her first shot of the day. Her stomach was in knots and bubbling as she grimaced, waiting for the pain to settle. She had been to the bathroom about five times since Seven had left. He had only been gone two hours, but even that was too long. Her bowels were getting the best of her and she couldnât stop herself from feeling like she was about to go on herself every five minutes. âFuck!â she yelled as she grabbed her own hair while still pacing.
âI canât do this shit,â she said, trying to talk herself out of what she was about to do. Sevenâs forty-two-inch plasma television was calling her name. She knew that she could get a pretty penny for it, and internally her conscience was having a battle. âI canât take this shit. Heâs trying to help me though,â Hazel said, battling with her conscience as she tried her best to not look at the TV.
âI can get about five
âSee you later,â he said as he left, not answering her question. Seven disappeared into the hallway and closed the door, leaving Hazel there alone. Hazel felt like a little child again as she watched Seven walk out the door with a bag full of money, just like Apple used to do.
Chapter Six
Seven cruised the highway with Rah-Rah on his passenger side. It was the first of the month and it was time for Seven go to cop from his out-of-town connect. Rah-Rah sat, sunk low in the passenger side with a black .45 pistol on his lap while he moved the toothpick around in his mouth with his tongue. Rah was black as night with smooth skin and a full beard that came three inches off his face. A three-sixty wave pattern graced his head and added to his neat look. Rah-Rah was Sevenâs shooter, his enforcer, and right-hand man.
âSo you fucking her or what?â Rah asked bluntly as he wondered about Hazel, who was back at Sevenâs apartment. Seven, always the one to choose silence over an explanation, remained quiet and smiled as Rah tried to get the 411. âMan, I know you hitting that,â Rah said, trying to convince himself. Seven just shook his head and smiled at how curious Rah was. âAll the years I have known you . . . You never let a chick move in with you. Not even GiGi,â Rah said, referring to his current girlfriend.
âHow those niggas over in the fifth ward moving through them joints?â Seven asked, quickly changing the topic of conversation. He was referring to the bricks of heroin that he had fronted them a couple of weeks back.
âThey are done with the first shipment. The young boys over there getting it. They just called me to re-up again.â Rah said, nodding his head in approval. Seven was the man who brought all the dope into Flint, but he let Rah be the front man. Seven just sat back and collected the money like a true boss should; just as Apple had taught him.
âCool. And the south side boys?â Seven asked.
âThey paid yesterday. They ready for some more joints too,â Rah answered. Seven could already feel the money in his hands, which made the trip they were taking to Canada all the more sweet. They just passed Detroit preparing to get on the Canadian bridge that separated Canada and Detroit. Rah-Rah also dressed in professional wear trying to hide their gutter appearance from any suspecting police just in case they got pulled over. The dummy gas tank under Sevenâs coupe was empty, but not for long. Soon it would be jam-packed with Saran-wrapped heroin bricks, making the car a few kilos heavier.
Meanwhile in Sevenâs apartment, Hazel walked back and forth, pacing the floor anxiously, while clenching her stomach, contemplating larceny. She was itching for her first shot of the day. Her stomach was in knots and bubbling as she grimaced, waiting for the pain to settle. She had been to the bathroom about five times since Seven had left. He had only been gone two hours, but even that was too long. Her bowels were getting the best of her and she couldnât stop herself from feeling like she was about to go on herself every five minutes. âFuck!â she yelled as she grabbed her own hair while still pacing.
âI canât do this shit,â she said, trying to talk herself out of what she was about to do. Sevenâs forty-two-inch plasma television was calling her name. She knew that she could get a pretty penny for it, and internally her conscience was having a battle. âI canât take this shit. Heâs trying to help me though,â Hazel said, battling with her conscience as she tried her best to not look at the TV.
âI can get about five
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