“Nah, ma, I don’t got a minute,” he told her, moving in closer. “And why you beating up on Dave like that? Don’t you know this man is a legend?”

“I could give a fuck about his legend status! This nigga is a legendary fiend that decided to play me for my paper.”

“How much he owe you?”

“Nine hundred and forty dollars,” Arnessa hissed.

Butta pulled out a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills, counted off twenty. “Here, this is double what he owe. You let him go.”

Arnessa looked at his hand like it was covered with herpes. “I don’t want your money. Yo, that ain’t the point anyway.”

“I think you’ve made your point,” Butta said, looking down at Dave’s battered body. He bent down and put the money in Dave’s pocket.

Arnessa frowned. “What you are giving him that for?”

“Why you worried about it?” Butta stood up. “You didn’t want it, now walk wit’ me.”

Arnessa obliged him, handing the pipe to TJ as she turned to walk away with Butta. Secretly, she checked Butta out as they walked. Butta’s skin was the color of a freshly baked oatmeal cookie; he was a dark-skinned Dominican with green eyes. After years of wearing long braids, he now kept his hair in an immaculately cut Caesar. Though he wasn’t flashy, Arnessa could tell he was caked up; he just had freshness about him. She knew his watch was expensive, though it had no diamonds.

“So,” he began to speak, “Rap tells me you’re having a lil’ trouble.”

“Yeah, and it seems like it going from little to big with each passing day.” Arnessa said.

“Holla at me,” he told her.

“I’m quite sure Rap told you that my muscle is gone and this dude Suef has been trying to get at my blocks for a minute. Now wit’ my peoples gone, I don’t stand a chance against this nigga.”

“So you need muscle … I can provide that.”

Arnessa stopped walking. “That’s not all I need.”

“What else?”

“Suef is a real greasy, slick-ass nigga. Somehow he done got to my connect too. Now my connect is refusing to serve me.”

Butta shook his head. “I think I can help you with that.”

Knowing nothing came for free, Arnessa asked, “So what do I have to do to get this help?”

“I wanna move some work on your blocks.”

“Really, what you saying is you want me on your team.”

“If that’s how you wanna put it, let your workers move some product for me. I’ll give you muscle and a good ticket on the highest-quality coke … fair exchange …”

“No robberies,” she said, completing his sentence. “What kind of price can you do on, boy?”

“I can give you a great price, but I thought coke was your thing.”

“It is, but I got a good lil’ thing out in B-more.”

“That’s what it is then.” He reached to shake her hand. “I’ll meet you outside your crib tomorrow morning at seven.”