Crave All Lose All by Erick Gray

all good.
    Giant stashed his guns in a holster and placed the shotgun in a duffle bag. He then casually walked out the room.
    I yawned, stretched and sprawled across one of the twin beds, trying to relax. I watched TV while Shae began making a call on her cell. I thought about fucking her. Staring at her back, I knew it wasn’t happening.
    I flipped through different channels. There wasn’t shit on. Shae finally got off the phone.
    “You could come out of that suit, ain’t you hot?” I asked.
    “I’m okay. I’ll feel more comfortable when this shit is dropped off,” she said.
    “How long have you been moving shit for Tyriq?” I asked.
    “Long enough,” she returned, being short with me.
    “Okay,” I said.
    It was clear that she didn’t want to be bothered. I wanted to fuck that smart ass attitude out of her, but let it be. Shae took a nap and I watched some TV to kill time. Three hours later there was a loud knock at the door. I got up and went to the door.
    “Who is it?” I asked.
    “Giant…”
    It was time. We gathered up our things and followed him to a white Tahoe sitting on 24” chromed rims. Half hour-later, we were on Clinton Street ready to link up with Ozone.
    Clinton Street was in the grimy section of town. It was littered with run down row houses and looked like a bomb had hit some parts of it. Crack-heads and hustlers sprinkled up and down the block conducting business in the midst of the dilapidated structures.
    Giant parked and I helped Shae out from the backseat. Holding her hand, I guided her to the location. It was another badly maintained row of houses with thugs lingering out front.
    Sunlight was coming to an end bringing dusk. I didn’t want to be caught here when night covered this hood.
    “You speak Spanish?” Giant asked me.
    “Yeah…”

    “Good.”
    One of the young thugs approached us. He was shirtless with his upper body covered in tattoos. He rocked a big chain around his neck, a doorag and Timberlands. His demeanor said he had juice in the hood.
    “Giant, what’s good?” he greeted.
    “What’s poppin, Everyday?” Giant replied.
    Everyday looked over at me with a screw face and asked, “You gotta problem with me, puta!”
    “Nah,” I replied.
    We followed him down some tattered wooden stairs into the basement. This was a large factory where six workers were readying the work for street distribution. Wu-Tang’s Protect ya neck blared out a portable radio. My heart race as we went to a room in the back. Ozone was there. He was ghetto-rich. Ozone’s attention was on a fine mamacita with thick hips like J-Lo and long braids.
    “Ozono, el paquete está aquí,” Everyday announced.
    “Everyday, ¿Quién es este nuevo mutha fucker, y donde esta S.S?” Ozone asked.
    Everyday shrugged and said, “No se, nunca he pedido.”
    Ozone wanted to know what happened to S.S. Everyday had no idea.
    I answered Ozone’s question. “Sorry for the trouble on my behalf, S.S. got caught up in a situation in Queens. So I’m here to replace him. ¿Hay un problema con eso?” I asked.
    Everyday and Ozone looked taken aback. Ozone looked at me and said, “So you speak Spanish.”
    “Si,” I replied.
    Ozone smiled. “Please, let’s get down to business then.” He looked at his female companion and said, “Jessica, nos deja por un momento.”
    She walked out the room. Shae undressed removing the suit and placed it on the table. Everyday undid the suit carefully pulling out keys out of the lining. Everyday smiled, holding two keys in his hand. “Pure white gold,” he said.
    When the product was removed, Ozone handed a black duffle bag to me.

    “A hundred and fifty-thousand upon delivery,” Ozone said.
    I took the bag and counted the cash.
    “That’s what’s up,” I said.
    We stacked the money into the lining of the suit and Shae put it back on.
    “What’s your name?” Ozone asked.
    “Vince…”
    “I like your swagger. Tell Tyriq, business is good up top and I’ll