Free Everything is Everything Book 2 by Pepper Pace Page A

quick …”
    Phonso slid a French fry through a glob of ketchup that puddled one corner of the paper tray containing his meal and then he plopped it into his mouth and chewed absently. 
    “I know what a dope fiend looks like. Scotty, G’s losing it. No, he’s lost it.”
    Scotty didn’t speak for a long time. Garry James was Scotty’s best friend. The two had been like brothers since elementary school. There were times when Scotty had to get away from his older brother’s abuse and it was G’s home that he escaped to. G’s mother used to refer to him as her white son.
    “Shit,” he finally said. “I’ll talk to him but you know as well as I do …” he trailed off. Once a dope fiend, always a dope fiend. At best you could hope to never touch the stuff but a recovering addict was just one joint away from falling right back down the rabbit hole.
    Phonso leaned back in his chair, his meal forgotten for the moment. “He’s fucking up the business, too. Dawson’s co-signed us-”
    Scotty blew out a deep breath. Now they would be in the drug supplier’s pocket. Scotty made a fist and lightly pounded the tabletop.
    “Shit. Is he keeping up on his payments?”
    Phonso lit a cigarette. “I’ve been making sure we are. Look this crack cocaine has regular users but people aren’t buying massive quantities of it the way they do with weed. I mean we’re talking about your single user purchasing a rock just for their personal use. Crack cocaine isn’t a high that you share with your buddies.”
    Phonso was speaking quietly now, careful of the ears that might be listening. “In other words, we ain’t getting rich off the shit. But G is buying up so much crack that he’s using for himself and not supplying the weed that is our true customer base. Dude, our customers are starting to buy from Bam and his boys downtown.”
    Scotty rubbed his hand through his hair.
    “Scotty, I don’t know what to do. I mean, I’m worried about G but the way he’s fucking up, I’m also worried about myself.”
    “What do you mean?” Scotty asked quickly.
    “Well he’s let some boys in from Downtown to try to get more crack customers. He said that since he’s the only one in town moving it, then it’s not like crossing out of our territory.”
    “Oh? That’s exactly what he’s doing. Did he ask Bam and his boys if it was okay?”
    “Apparently Bam don’t care because it’s just a small number of buyers. But if this crack shit grows, then before too long he’s going to want to sell it—and then he’s going to have to get rid of us.”
    Scotty watched his brother, feeling torn. Phonso was much too old for him to demand that he leave the drug dealing behind. Besides, who was he to tell his brother what to do in light of the fact that they’d been selling drugs together for years? And now that he’d gotten out of the life didn’t mean that he could walk around dictating what others should do.
    Yet this was something different. Things had gotten out of hand in just a few short weeks and since he could no longer trust G’s judgment Scotty wanted his brother as far away from the possible fallout.
    Phonso leaned forward. “Come to the party tonight. G thinks we can get more customers if we let people have a taste of crack—I don’t think he’s wrong about that. I know you’re not in the dope game anymore. But come and see with your own eyes.”
    “Where?” Scotty asked.
    “The spot in Findlater Gardens.” Phonso replied. Findlater Gardens was just another area of the projects of Winton Terrace. A smart drug dealer never let their customers know where they lived or cooked their dope. And Findlater Gardens is where people came to find the dope when it didn’t find them first.
    Scotty was watching Phonso closely. He knew his brother well enough that if he lied about the following question, Scotty would know it.
    “Have you tried smoking crack?”
    Phonso chortled mirthlessly.  “No, bro … I’m afraid of it.