BEING GREEDY

By C SWEETS

In "Being Greedy", C. Sweets introduces you to three friends who will take you for a wild walk in their shoes. They show you how they survived the streets of the South Side of Chicago and everything else in their path. Experiencing death, hurt, and betrayal, the three friends learn early on that the game

• Language: English
• Publisher: Just Like Candy
• Release date: May 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781088033500

Book preview

Being Greedy

C Sweets

Copyright @ 2011 by

C Sweets

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in writing from the author.

ISBN: 978-1-0880-3350-0

Printed in the United States of America

Published by Book Marketeers.com

Acknowledgments

First, I would say that I am grateful to God for everything that he has done and for the vision that he has given me. Next, I would like to thank my best friend Dee Dee, for opening up my eyes back in 2001 and sparking my passions towards the beauty of writing a good urban tale.

To my little sister Brit, thank you for listening to me read every page as I wrote it. To my cousin Aalia, thanks for helping me out with every writer’s block and for giving me great insight into the dialogue in the chapter before the last.

To my coworkers from 9 South (especially Ruthie), who read chapter by chapter and never told on me for using all the ink and paper in the printer when printing my manuscripts for them to read.

To my first editor Tiana W., even though it was nowhere near finished, I appreciate your time and efforts. To my second editor Zee K., you did your thing with your edits and gave me the direction that I needed.  You, Zee, are an amazing writer! To BookMarketeers, I trusted my instinct to move forward and your team brought my dream to reality. To my last editor Dee Dee, again, thanks friend for believing in this project.

To my best friend Sam, thanks for reminding me that I am an author and for motivating me to make it a goal to get it done. Big shout out to Nick Pettiford for being an all-in-one resource for everything that I needed.

To my daughter Ty’Ahna Maray, my biggest supporter, motivator, and cheerleader, (who wasn’t allowed to read Being Greedy until she turned 21), thanks for the support and for solidifying that this book is still in style, lol.

To the Besties who all gave feedback on the book cover, who kept me up lifted in the group chat and who are always down for any and every idea that I have, and to everyone else who read this book and gave me feedback, from my Ahma (R.I.P) and her church choir, to my mom Charlene, brother Rusty, workshop groups, friends, and family, THANK YOU!

There are too many of you to name, but just know that every bit of feedback, good or bad, pushed me to see this project all the way to the end.

Lastly, to everyone who made it from the hood, especially if you made it out of the South Side of Chicago, let’s reflect on how far we have come and continue to reach for those who may not have made it yet.

Thank You All.

C. Sweets

July 14, 2001 …. 8:17 am

Greedy, this is Secret. Secret was whispering.

I was barely able to hear her words. She sounded afraid like she was in danger. I pressed the phone up tight to my ear and hoped that she was okay.

Greedy, I’m scared, she whispered.

They got me in the trunk Greedy! Secret began to screech out and whine her words.

These niggas thinking I’m you and they said they gone kill me. I know that they gone kill me Greedy! Greedy, please come get me. Please Greedy I’m scared! I called the police but I don’t know where they’ve taken me. All I could tell them was where the apartment was. Help me please.

Secret stopped talking, but I heard her sobbing.

Secret never hung up the phone and I was terrified as I listened to the events unfold. For a moment, Secret stopped crying, then I heard some movement. There was a little bit of static and then I heard Secret again.

She was crying out. Please don’t do this. Y’all making a big mistake. I’m not Greedy, please I’m not her.

Grab that bitch. A voice said.

Please I will take you to her. My family has money, I can pay you. Secret kept pleading over and over.

I heard some tussle, and Secret screamed out, Please don’t hit me, please stop I am not Greedy I swear to God. Secret kept screaming and begging and someone was telling her to shut up.

Their voices started to sound distant like they moved away from the phone. I heard Secret crying out and I could only imagine what they were doing to her. Then I heard a round of gunshots.

I sat in silence terrified and afraid to breathe. I thought to myself, what have I done?

So many thoughts were running through my mind. I wanted so badly for it to be a bad dream… I wanted to start all over again, and do my best to avoid making all the wrong decisions. I leaned against the wall, and I felt my legs getting weak. I slid down the wall onto the floor and I couldn’t breathe. My heart raced and my throat was tight. I was trying to make it all make sense but I knew it was all because of me. My face tightened and I released my pain. In a large gasp for air, I let out a loud scream. As tears burst from my eyes, I inhaled heavily until I choked. I then began to gag as if I were throwing up as I cried. The emotions were too much for me and I was having a mental breakdown. I tried to get a grip on what I was going to do next. My mind was clouded with the voice messages that I had just heard. I was bent over, trying to gather my thoughts and catch my breath.

I gazed over at the bag of money sitting on the floor by the bed. I was here because of me, and it was all my fault. This could have all been avoided. Things could have been so different for everybody. Only if I weren’t being greedy.

Chapter 1

Greedy’s Story

July 13, 2001 …. 8:45 pm

DAMN! What the fuck is this bitch doing?

It’s bad enough that she got my black ass sitting out here in front of these ghetto projects, but now she wants to take her sweet time. She’s giving all these ugly ass, nasty ass, ghetto ass, trifling ass, black dirty ass project niggas a chance to keep walking past my damn SUV to look me over. I got too much to lose, and this bitch fails to realize that I ain't from these parts. When these niggas realize I ain’t one of them, ain’t no telling what they gonna try to pull. I can’t even pop a cap in one of these niggas asses if they try something either because I don’t even got my twenty-two on me.

Fuck!

It is something about these projects that China’s ass can’t get enough of. Even though they robbed her of her childhood, stole her innocence, and are even responsible for her brother’s death; this bitch will not leave these pissy ass hallways and nasty ass elevators for shit in this world. China’s ass is only nineteen years old and making more money than she can count. She could be living happily in a nice neighborhood, somewhere like on the Gold Coast or in Beverly, but no, she wants to be stuck on fucking stupid.

China is always talking that crazy shit about these projects being the only home she knows and how she doesn’t fit in anywhere else. I’ve tried countless times to convince her that this ain't no damn home and that nobody deserves to live in this hell hole, but she doesn’t hear me. I just don't get how she’s been traveling the world ever since she was fourteen, and she still chooses to call this nasty ass ghetto her home. If I ain’t know any better, I would say it’s all the weed and that ecstasy shit they are pushing down here, and that her ass is hooked. She doesn’t think that I know, but she gets higher than a kite and it’s not all from weed. But I will not judge nobody else’s habits, because I got habits of my own. She also got a low-income apartment down here, and leave it to her, a bitch would be plumb dumb to give up her low-income housing.

I knew I should have stayed my black ass at home in my nice ass house in the suburbs, but I just had to be super-save-a-hoe. I should have learned a long time ago to stay the fuck out of other people’s business and just focus on my own. Every time I get into one of these situations, it’s always because I am trying to be a good friend; I can hear my mother saying, Friends, what friends? You ain’t got no damn friends! A bitch will play the role for as long as you let her, and while she is playing that role, she's gonna take everything you got to offer. Fuck a friend.

It had been over thirty minutes before I realized this bitch must have lost her damn mind having me outside in the projects waiting for her. Just when I was about to call her cell phone and curse her ass out, a couple of young drug dealers approached my SUV. I was going to ask them what the hell they wanted, but then, I heard China yelling from her balcony to get the hell away from her baby momma’s car.

One of the young boys responded, Damn baby ain’t nobody trying to hurt yo baby’s momma. I’m just trying to see if she needs some of this here ex.

Ain’t shit shaking over here shorty; she don’t fuck around with that shit. China had come down from the 2nd floor where her balcony was, and now reached the passenger side of the SUV.

Before she climbed into my car, the young boy grinned with a devilish smile and said, I just want to know if I can watch?

I knew that China was money hungry, and that she would get down and dirty for a buck, but I did not expect her to stoop to the little boy’s level.

Before I could convince her to leave the boy alone and to get into the car, she replied, How much money you got youngin?

I could imagine the young boy’s dick beginning to harden in his pants. I shook my head in disgrace and yelled at China, Bitch get your ass in this car so we can go and handle our business! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, he is a little ass boy! Damn, are you out here like that?

China climbed into the car, slammed my door, smacked her lips and rolled her eyes, and then snapped back, Am I out here like that? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Exactly what I said! He is a little ass boy!

Well money is money bitch, and the landlord don’t care how he gets it as long as he gets it on time. So, if that lil muthafucka can pay like he weighs, then hell yeah I will take his money.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at China’s response. I pulled out of my parking space and I left the conversation at that. China was my friend and all, but she truly had a fucked-up perspective of life. The things that she sometimes said, made me question why in the world we are friends in the first place. I just always convinced myself that she needed me because I was the only person that she listened to. I felt that if I were ever to leave her hanging, she would be like a foreigner in a big city for the very first time. She would be lost with no sense of direction.

Have you ever heard the saying, the older you get the wiser you get? Well, that did not apply to China, she has the same amount of common sense that she’s had when we first met, and that was eight years ago. I ain’t no rocket scientist, but I have learned a hell of a lot from the time I was eleven years old until now. Honestly, I always stoop to the lowest shit because of China, and now the big plan was to take her to rob this guy that she’s fucking.

Greedy! China broke my train of thought.

What? I asked dumbfoundedly.

Well, what do you think that I should do?

I had been so busy concentrating on why I was there helping her scam that I had tuned her out.

Damn China! Can you repeat that, I missed it by a mile?

I said do you think I should call J-Boog up and tell him that his house was broke into and that his money was stolen now? Or should I just wait until he comes home from his business trip and break the news to him?

When China finished talking, I realized that was exactly what I heard the first time. Knowing that J-Boog was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and that he wouldn’t squeeze an orange for Tropicana made it easy for me to go along with her plan. But truthfully, you never really knew if or when a person would snap out.

Chapter 2

Greedy’s Story

July 13, 2001 …. 9:25 pm

We pulled up to the corner of ninety-eighth and Ashland, where J-Boog had a four-bedroom bi-level home that his parents left for him. J-Boog’s was living the life to be only 20 years old. Financially he was straight, so I guess it wasn’t half as bad that China was planning to steal from him. Not that he deserves it or anything, but J-Boog had an advantage over us. His parents died in a car accident when we were only in the seventh grade. Both his parents were doctors, and what I remembered of them, they were loving and cared about the community. Back then, J-Boog wanted to follow in their footsteps but after they died, he pretty much said fuck medical school.

These days he's a well-known drug dealer who is big time and moves big packs throughout the Stoney Towers. With all the niggas hustling in the Towers, J-Boog gets by because he had an advantage in his hustling. He started off with the money.

You see J-Boog, a.k.a James Barnes Jr., is the youngest of his parents' three children. His two older sisters Jasmine and Jassica are twins and have a thirteen-year age difference over him. By the time James was in grade school, his sisters were off in college, getting married, and moving on with their lives. It was the perfect time for J-Boog's parents to open a practice in our low-income neighborhood back then. They felt it would be okay for J-Boog to stay with his grandmother after school and go to school near their new medical practice. J-Boog would stay the whole day with his grandmother until his parents were ready to go home, which was usually around his bedtime.

So, clothes-wise, he dressed better than the rest of us; school-wise, he was smarter than the rest of us and family-wise, he had both of his parents, something that most of us could never have. J-Boog was pampered and spoiled, something that most of us were far from. He was soft and we were tough and the fact that he only went to school with us and didn’t live in the hood justified why he was just a wannabe once he was left on his own.

J-Boog had a crush on all the girls at our school. But when he started crushing on China, it was never-ending. He learned so much about the woman’s body from his parents, so he used to draw pictures of coochie’s and try to explain what everything was and how it worked to whoever listened. All the guys gave him props for knowing about a woman's body, but all the girls thought he was a nasty freak.

China was the only girl who didn’t run away from J-Boog, or any boy, matter of fact. She loved boys and she loved doing freaky shit. She used to do things like sneak into the boys’ bathroom and show them her under-developed titties, kiss boys under the stairs, and sometimes she even had them pull their things out and she would tell them whose was the biggest. China dominated the young boys during their boyhood and that made them fantasize about her into their manhood.

After China ran away and was gone for a few years, J-Boog was the only person outside of Secret and me who really wanted her to come back. J-Boog felt that he was old enough and would be able to please China and take care of her the way she needed. He would constantly ask about her and wonder how she was doing, but at that time, his guess was as good as ours.

When China did come back into town, she waltzed right back into J-Boog’s life as if she had never left. She and he were so-called friends. Not like he and I were friends; they were friends with benefits. J-Boog gave China access to his checking and savings accounts and gave her whatever her little heart desired. It wasn’t enough for China though; she was never satisfied with one man’s money because she needed it all. If it weren’t for J-Boog being so young and his parents spreading out his insurance policy payout into several deferred payments, he would have been broke a long time ago fucking with China. She was on a serious paper chase and her goal was to hang niggas out to dry one by one. It’s kind of funny though how both J-Boog and China looked forward to seeing each other on the first of the month, because for J-Boog, he got to be with his China, and for China, she got to get free cash from J-Boog.

China unfastened her seat belt and told me to call her if anyone pulls up. China flipped the hood of her black hooded sweater over her head before bending down to tie the strings to her all-white Nike Airmax 90’s. After she tied her shoes, she grabbed her keys and jumped out of my SUV. I sat in silence for about five minutes watching the streetlight flick from green to yellow then red. When China finally got back to my SUV, she lifted the handle to the back door, and I pressed the automatic locks to unlock the door. She hopped in the back seat of the truck, looked around to verify no one was watching her, then she told me to roll out.

I headed east on 97th street towards the Dan Ryan expressway. I rode the Dan Ryan to the Bishop Ford Freeway to get to Carrington, the suburb that I lived in. I pulled into the driveway of my eleven-room home which included four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a living room, dining room, family room, a laundry room, and a huge ass basement. I mean four bedrooms ain’t much to brag about, but for a nineteen-year-old black girl born and raised in the ghetto with no momma and an alcoholic welfare recipient for a daddy, this was a giant step.

I lived all alone. The only people who ever visited me were China, Secret, my little brother and sisters, and my sugar daddy, Doug. Doug is the one who bought the house for me. Yeah, I know, some gift right? It may have been a nice gift, but there was a big price for accepting it.

When I approached my street, I flipped the block twice before pulling into my driveway. I let the garage door up and pulled into the garage. I looked around and made sure no one was watching me before getting out and walking over to the corner of the garage where I had security monitors. I quickly reviewed the surveillance videos to make sure it was safe to go into the house. I was relieved when I saw the coast was clear. I headed into the house stopping by the door to disable the alarm. I loved my house, my neighborhood, and most importantly my freedom. Despite the small agreement that I had to keep with Doug, I was living the life.

Damn bitch, you living like you the A-team and shit. What you got up in here that got you watching your back like this? Is Tony Montana in this bitch? China laughed at her joke.

Girl, I ain’t got nothing in here. You just can never be too sure. In our line of business, somebody might be out to get us, you know?

You can miss me with all that shit, Greedy. You know it’s something that you ain’t trying to tell me right now, but I ain’t gonna sweat you. In due time you gonna tell me, China said walking into the kitchen.

I hated keeping secrets from my friends. I was damn sure that they knew something was up, but I just couldn’t trust nobody with my business. I just tried to cover it up the best I could and hoped it didn’t separate us or make us stray away from each other.

You know China, you could never be too sure about those guys at the club. I mean eye candy like us ain’t easy to come across and sometimes I think that I might have a few stalkers. I tried to get China’s mind off what I was hiding as I headed toward the stairs to the basement.

Uhm hmm, I know exactly what you mean, that’s why I stay where no crazy stalker would come. I wish a nigga would come to the Stoney Towers trying to follow me. I would have one of the shawty’s beat his ass. China was sitting at one of the stools on the island in the middle of my kitchen.

What you got to eat?

Grab the spinach dip out the fridge and some crackers from the cabinet then come down here. We ain’t got that much time before we got to be at work, I yelled from the basement.

China brought the food and her bag down into the family room. When she sat down, she emptied out her bag and began to count the money she had just taken from J-Boog. I wasn’t all in her business, but I saw that she had not only stolen his money, but she also stole his drugs. She had a big bag of pills, a big bag of weed, and it looked like she had some cocaine too, but she never pulled it all the way out of the bag.

It’s all here, China said with a big grin.

Well, if I were you, I would put that money in the bank and prepare to move out of them nasty ass projects, I spoke.

It’s not the projects, it’s a housing complex and it’s cheap. Besides, I know everybody over there. China frowned, Shit, if I was you, I would go sign up for one of the cribs while they are renovating, because you never know how long you gonna be staying up in here, China replied.

China had a point, but she didn’t know all that she thought she knew about what I could and couldn’t afford.

Well, it’s about time to go to Eye Candy, you bout ready for tonight? I asked.

I’m going to be ready for whatever once I pop me one of these here things, China said holding up the bag of pills.

I rolled my eyes, Whatever makes you happy, China.

I headed up the stairs to my bedroom to prepare for a shower. I hated what I did, but it was better money than working the drive-thru at some burger joint. Besides, I really ain’t got no complaints. I guess it could be much worse. For one, I’m still alive, for two I’m healthy and three, as far as I know, ain’t nobody wishing for me to be dead. I had the life that I always wanted. I had enough money to buy whatever I wanted and I had friends who didn’t judge me. Life was sweet in a sense. And I was a sweet piece of candy stripping at a gentlemen’s club called Eye Candy.

Chapter 3

Greedy’s Story

Eye Candy is a strip club located on the Northside of Chicago. It’s a popular local spot that offers live entertainment every night of the week. I'm one of the main attractions; one of the main reasons married men and desperate hopefuls flood Eye Candy nightly. I’m a great dancer, and even though the job has its ups and downs, I enjoy making money. Even if it means making my ass shake and clap for all the thirsty ass men and their dollars. I get my dollars faithfully. Like they said in the movie Player’s Club, I make my money, I don’t let it make me.

I look at it as art. My body was designed to be admired and I am not ashamed of showing it off. I believe that God knows my heart and I know my heart, so I accept who I am. Being a stripper is a contradiction to my faith and strong belief in God. But I don’t think that God judges me more than he judges the pastor whose stealing money from the congregation and bringing it to Eye Candy to spend it on me. We all can be judged right? When I compare myself to other girls of my age, I can admit that I do have the potential to be in college where I can make more of myself, but the average nineteen-year-old can't count half of the money that I bring in, so guess what, desperate situations call for desperate measures.

You see it’s always easier to judge someone else when you’ve never walked a day in their shoes. And these days most people are certified at being in other people’s business, but wouldn’t survive a day in their life. They especially wouldn’t be able to survive my life for sure. But if you can fit a size six and a half, you should try these shoes on and step into my world.

My name is Armagrettia Jackson. My family calls me Gretty. My friends and the streets call me Greedy. I hate my birth name. I’ve hated it since the first time I realized it was my name. I don’t know what the fuck it means, and it sounds like a mixture of amaretto, regret, and Armageddon. I guess when my mother went into labor, she thought it was the end of the world, she regretted being pregnant, and she had her arm reached out for another Amaretto sour drink in a bar when she went into labor with me. That may sound crazy, but that’s what I’ve always thought.

My mother’s name is Gertrude Jackson. She hated her mother, hated the name Gertrude, and hated anything that had to do with being responsible. She cursed me with a four-syllable name and left me in the house to raise her other three children while she ran the streets all night long. My daddy, on the other hand, was very responsible. He was a very southern Christian man. He worked as a security guard overnight so that he could keep a roof over our heads and food in the refrigerator. Studied his word routinely and made sure he instilled a love for God in his children. My mother, on the other hand, wasn’t good for shit. She slept all through the day with my daddy and once my daddy got up and left for work, so did she. Only she didn’t have a job.

My daddy had been working for as long as I could remember, and at first, he didn’t have a clue that my mother was a lady of the night. She would make us dinner, fix up my daddy’s lunch nice, then once my daddy left for work, I did not see her again until the morning. At seven, I was left responsible for my younger siblings. My brother was 4, and my sisters were three and two. Word started getting around about my momma’s nightlife and that is how my daddy got hip to her game. He came home from work one day early and caught her sneaking in. They talked it out, but after he knew her true colors, I don’t think he saw her the same way.

My daddy sometimes came home before my momma made it back in, and instead of beating her to a pulp like some men might do, he would just stare at her blankly and ask her why she kept coming back home. Finally, the day came when she just didn’t come back. I wouldn’t say that we missed her, but I would say that knowing your mother left you isn’t a great feeling. My daddy tried to keep his pain in, but we knew that he was messed up by the whole thing.

My daddy was a good man, and he was an even better man to my momma. On the outside, you wouldn’t think that my daddy would’ve ever landed a woman as pretty as my momma, but my daddy is a special type of man. My daddy is a big black man standing six feet four inches tall and weighing about four hundred pounds. His outer appearance makes people fear him on sight. And when I say black, I don’t mean dark-skinned, I mean straight off the boat black, so black that he looks blue-black, pitch black. He has eyes the color of pure coal, with the biggest lips and the nappiest hair a black person could have. But on the inside, my daddy is an angel. His heart makes him prettier than any Luster Product Model.

Daddy is an ugly gorilla, but he’s the kind of man that they don’t make anymore. My momma ran the streets all night long when she was with us and never did he once complain. The only time I ever saw him hit her was when he caught her whopping on me. Daddy didn’t play that; he loved his kids too much to have anybody putting their damn hands on them.

I was abused by my mother. When she realized that