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A urban novel full of betrayal, murder but most of all undying love.
Enter the world of Trinity and Dior as they show you what its like its like to be in young love and in the game. From a broken home to a mansion Trinity has seen it all and lived it all. Dior coming from money was always taught "death before dishonor". Dior has no choice but to take on where his father left off. somewhat of a knight in shining armor, Dior saves Trinity from her hardships and bring her into his world which isn't as great as it seems. From kidnapping to murder, Trinity and Dior endure it all witnessing for themselves that the game has no loyalty. Your closest friends become your enemies.
Trinity scanned the aisle in Macy’s on 34th street. She walked straight to the women’s department then to her size and scanned the Levi’s and House of Dereon jeans. She looked around to see if any guards were around then looked up to locate the cameras. After being satisfied that the coast was clear, she dropped two pairs of Coogi jeans, Levi’s and a pair of Dereon jeans into her shoulder bag. She kept walking through the aisle and pulled a few shirts off the racks and held them in her hands so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. Trinity headed to the shoe department on the 3rd floor. She tried on a pair of Coach sneakers and a pair of Polo sneakers. She put the Polo sneakers back in the box, but slipped the Coach sneakers in her bag after deactivating the alarm.
“Excuse me? Do you need help with anything?” a saleswoman asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
“No, ma’am. Thank you, though,” Trinity said dismissing her politely. The woman nodded then walked off.
After she felt she had enough merchandise, she headed towards the exit. She noticed a casually dressed man watching her as she walked.
Aww shit. This muthafucka must have seen me, she thought.
She started walking faster, dropping the two decoy shirts she held. She hopped on the escalator and ran down the stairs, trying to get out of there as fast as possible.
“Ma’am, come back here! Someone, stop her!” shouted the undercover security guard.
Dior watched as a young girl that couldn’t have been no more than seventeen years old power walk and drop the shirts she had in her hand. Being from Brooklyn, he knew what time it was once he saw the man running behind her.
Dior didn’t know what came over him, but he left the cologne stand in pursuit to catch up with the girl. As she ran down the escalator and the security guard followed, Dior kept his distance, but followed as well. Dior power walked and caught up with the girl and began walking with her.
“Listen, ma. I peeped you, and I can tell what you up too. I ain’t gon judge you, but ya shit looking real fucked up so follow my lead,” Dior whispered to her.
Trinity just looked at him. She didn’t know this nigga from a hole in a wall and she was supposed to trust him? She glanced behind them and saw the fat undercover security guard heading their way. They dipped in one of the aisles, still power walking. It was a Saturday so the shit was packed.
“Drop da bag and we gon keep it pushing,” Dior told her.
She did as he instructed and kept walking finally reaching the door. The security guard yelled for his co-worker to stop them.
“Excuse me. Do we have a problem?” Dior asked in a calm manner.
“You damn right we do. I chased this little thief from the third floor down here,” the undercover security guard said out of breath.
“Are you accusing my girl of stealing?” Dior asked stepping in the man’s face.
“You bet your ass I am. Ask her to empty her bag,” the security said, smirking.
“What bag?” Trinity asked.
The smirk left the guard’s face when he didn’t see a bag. “But, I thought—” he started but was cut off.
“In my office, Marty!” the other security guard, who happened to be the boss, yelled.
“I apologize for any inconvenience my worker may have caused you two. Two hundred dollars worth of merchandise will go to each of you, at the store’s expense.” The manager had arrived and caught the end of the situation. He was embarrassed, but mainly concerned about being sued. He went out of his way to make the two young people happy.
Trinity ended up getting the Polo sneakers she’d put back and a matching Polo shirt. Dior bought Diddy’s cologne, Iam King and they left the store with their bags.
When they got outside, Dior handed Trinity the bag with all the stuff she’d stolen.
“How did you get my bag back?” she asked him. She was happy that he did because her bus fare was in there.
“While you went and got ya shit. I went back and got ya bag,” he told her. “But check this, ma. Don’t go to stores like this to steal. You can’t handle stealing from shit like this. Stick to Rainbows, Mandees, Pretty Girl-- shit like that,” he told her and walked away toward a Mercedes Benz. She watched him.
Damn. I ain’t get his name and he was fine, she thought as she headed to the bus stop. He was about 6 feet 4 and light-skinned. He wore long braids, had hazel-green eyes and dimples. Plus, he was bow-legged. That shit turned her on.
Dior hopped in his Mercedes Benz and pulled off. He looked in his rearview mirror at the pretty lady whose ass he’d just saved and shook his head. He hated the fact that so many young women reduced themselves to stealing and other shit like that.
As he headed to Brooklyn, he turned on his radio just as his phone went off. He looked at it and saw it was his partner, Chance.
“What’s poppin’, nigga? What it look like?” Dior said as he answered his phone.
“Ain’t shit. Tryna hit up the party tonight at Club Effects. You wit’ it?” Chance asked with eagerness in his voice.
Dior chuckled. “Yeah, son. I’m wit’ it. Imma holla at you when I get to the hood.” With that said, they hung up and Dior turned up Jay-Z’s new song and cruised down the belt parkway.
Once Dior got back to Brooklyn, he went straight to his house downtown to change clothes. He wanted to look fly when he stepped out to the club. He put on his new cologne, wore his black and red button up Gucci shirt, black Laguna Beach jeans, black and red classic Gucci sneakers and topped it off with a black and red G-shock. It only took him about a good 45 minutes to get ready so he hopped back in his Mercedes and headed to East New York to meet up with his niggas for a night of partying.
Chance was in his house blasting Weezy and Drake while getting dressed. He decided to rock an Ed Hardy outfit: the hat, jeans, and shirt. He also wore a pair of black classic Pradas. His cell phone started vibrated and the ring tone, “Becky” by Plies came on. He already knew who it was.
“Fuck you want, Marissa?” Chance answered. He had no patience for her. She was too damn clingy.
“Baby, I thought you was taking me out tonight?” she whined into the phone. Chance hated that shit.
“Bitch, you thought wrong. Fuck off my line,” Chance said, hanging up.
He checked his appearance once again and loved what he saw. He was ready to go.
After Trinity hopped off the B20 bus in front of the infamous Pink Houses Projects in Brooklyn, East New York, she walked to her building and headed straight to her friend, Christina’s house.
Christina and Trinity went to school together they had a mutual agreement. Christina would pay half price for whatever items Trinity boosted for her, but little did she know Trinity basically charged her full price half the time.
After the transaction, Trinity came off with $150 dollars, a free Polo shirt and sneakers, and the pair of Dereon jeans she’d stolen.
Trinity ran down the stairs to her second floor apartment and headed straight to her room. She pushed her new belongings to the back of her closet, out of view. Trinity hardly ever got to enjoy her new clothes or anything like that because her mother was one of the worst kleptomaniacs. She would steal all of Trinity’s clothes then throw it in Trinity’s face that she owed her and it was about time she did her share and started taking care of her and stuff like that. Trinity didn’t mind though. All she had was a couple more months to live in that hellhole she called home.
After hiding her clothes, she walked into her mother’s room and handed her $75 of the $150.
“Here, ma. Maybe you can use that to pay phone bill or something.”
“What the fuck imma do with dis? You mean to tell me you been out there with them no good ass niggas and they ain’t giving you nothing but chump change?” Sandra yelled.
“Ma, I don’t be out there with no niggas. I borrowed that to help out. You always complaining ‘‘bout how I don’t help and when I do try, you throw it in my face,” Trinity shouted back. She was pissed off her mom had the nerve to go off on her. Ain’t like Trinity had to give her shit. She was being nice. She knew her mom was probably going to smoke up all that money in a matter of hours anyway.
“Matter of fact, give me the fucking money. I’m goin’ to pay the phone bill.” She snatched the bills from her daughter and stormed out the door. Trinity shook her head and sighed she knew her mom was lying.
Trinity went back in her room and checked her bookshelf for a good book. She picked up Every Thug Needs a Lady by Wahida Clark. It was one of her favorites and she hadn’t read it in a while. About half way through the book she heard a knock on the door.
“Coming!” she yelled to the door. “Who is it?” she asked, peeping through the peephole.
“Christina. Girl, open up,” Christina yelled through the door.
Trinity opened the door and noticed Christina had on all the new clothes she’d just boosted for her. Trinity shook her head and led her to her room.
“What’s up, girl? What you so hype about?” Trinity asked trying to figure out why this girl was so damn hype.
“You know that Keisha’s man Pretty Boy throwing her a party at Club Effects tonight. I called Sasha’s dumb ass and she talkin’ ‘‘bout she ain’t wanna go so I figured I’d ask you if you wanna go? I know you don’t do the party scene, but I really want you to go. I ain’t go no one to go with me. Please, girl. I’ll owe you one,” Christina begged.
Trinity thought about it. She really didn’t feel like being in the house alone tonight. Ain’t no telling when her momma was coming home and she was in the mood for some good music.
“Alright. Damn, girl. Calm down. I’ll go,” she chuckled. “Let me shower, wash and style my hair and find something to wear,” Trinity told her as she pulled opened the closet and reached in a box to the far right on the floor for her good clothes.
She set out her favorite red Prada blouse and her Rock and Republic jeans. She pulled out a pair of Christian Lou’boutin black pumps with a little red rose on top.
“For someone who ain’t know what to wear, you damn sure picked this out quick. Where you get this shit from?” Christina asked, jealously evident in her voice. She looked at her own clothes and realized she was underdressed.
“Oh, just some shit I boosted from when I was working in that clothing store in Soho. I saved up and bought the shoes. These clothes was easy to boost,” Trinity told her not wanting to give her too much info on her boosting techniques.
“Aiight girl. While you in the shower getting dressed, Imma go upstairs and change. I wanna put on this cute new dress I got and these pumps I bought last week,” Christina said then walked out the door leaving Trinity with a task. She had to shower and get dressed all in a matter of an hour and a half, two hours tops.
When Trinity stepped out the shower, she blow dried and crimped her long dark brown hair, letting it fall down her back. She wanted to show off her exotic features. She had slanted hazel eyes, pouty lips, and high cheekbones. She applied a little Mac make-up. She threw on her cherry bomb Victoria secrets lip gloss and was ready to floss at the party.
Fifteen minutes later, Christina arrived. She tried her best in her dress that Trinity recently saw in Pretty Girls. It was cute but not for a function like tonight.
“Girl, you look nice. You ready?” Christina asked Trinity.
“Yeah, girl. You look nice, too. I’m ready. Let me grab my bag.” Trinity grabbed her Prada bag and they headed out to catch a cab.
Once Dior and Chance stepped in the club they saw that all the chickens were out. They weren’t even checking for them though. They were ready to pop bottles in the V.I.P. room. As soon as they were granted access into V.I.P, they spotted their other home boy, Pretty Boy.
“My nigga, PB. What’s good?” Chance said as he embraced him in a brotherly hug. Dior did likewise.
“Ain’t shit. Just chillin’. Had to do it big for my girl. She been holding it down. I had to go all out for her,” Pretty Boy told them as he handed both of them crystal flute glasses with Nuvo in them.
“Imma holla at y’all lata. I’m ‘bout to go mingle and shit,” he said, walking off.
“This shit is nice,” Chance said, looking around. “I’m diggin’ the scene. Look at all these half-dressed bitches in here.”
“Yeah, I see them. But I ain’t checking for none of these hoes right now. “I’m ‘‘bout to get twisted then I might go trick on them,” Dior bragged. They both laughed.
“Word, my nigga. But I’m ‘bout to go grab one of these females right now because like my man say ‘it ain’t trickin’ if you got it,’” Chance sang along with Mullage’s song.
Dior shook his head at his crazy ass friend that walked off to hit the dance floor. After about an hour and a half Chance returned looking twisted with some girl on his hip that looked just as twisted as he did.
“Yo, my nigga, this is…damn what the hell is your name?” Chance asked the girl as they both sat down on the plush couch.
She giggled. “My name Christina. What y’all getting into when the club close?” she asked.
“Shit, we probably bump through IHOP real quick and get some breakfast. I don’t know. What you tryna get into?” Chance asked, licking his lips at her.
Dior laughed at them and shook his head. Chance would fuck anything in a skirt.
“I came with my girl, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind coming with us and she could meet your friend over there,” Christina said, nodding her head in Dior’s direction.
Chance looked at Dior for confirmation. Dior shook his head, “no.” He wasn’t with no double dating shit. The money was no problem, but he wasn’t into fucking different females every other night just because. He didn’t know the bitch or her friend so he wasn’t with it.
“Yom ma. Go get ya friend and let my boy see what she look like then he’ll let you know what’s good,” Chance told her, slapping her on the ass as she walked off.
“You know damn well I ain’t into the whole double dating shit. I don’t know these bitches. Fuck I look like taking one of them out?” Dior went off on him.
“All you gotta do is look at the bitch and if she ain’t looking right then tell her ass to keep it pushin’,” Chance told him as he took a big ass gulp of Ciroc straight from the bottle.
About five minutes later Christina walked back over to them by herself. “She coming. She went to the bar,” she told them as she sat back down.
“Christina,” someone yelled.
“Over here! There she go right there,” Christina said pointing.
Dior looked toward the girl. The room was dimly lit, but he could make out her frame. She had curves for days. She had a big ass, tight waist, and nice sized breasts. Then he focused on her face. She seemed to be smiling at him as she took a seat next to him. He noticed her hazel eyes once again.
“Damn, ma. How many times in a day we gonna meet up? And I never even got ya damn name,” he told her, licking his lips.
Chance and Christina didn’t pay them any attention as they continued to talk.
Trinity laughed. “You never asked my name. But, thanks again for doing what you did. You ain’t have to,” she told him, blushing.
She couldn’t believe they’d met up again. She’d been thinking about the fine ass dude that saved her ass and here he was right in front of her.
“Well, can I get a name now since I’m asking?” Dior flirted.
“Trinity. And what’s ya name?” she asked him as she swayed to the beat of Mariah Carey’s song, Obsessed.
“My name Dior. Where you from?” he asked her as he eyed her gear. She was fly. He couldn’t figure out why she was stealing all that shit if she rocked Prada and shit.
“I’m from Brooklyn, born and raised,” she said proudly.
“Oh word? Me too. Where at in Brooklyn?”
“East New York, all day! Where at in Brooklyn you from?” she asked as she sipped her long island ice tea.
“I was born in Flatbush, but I live downtown now.”
“Oh. I dig it.” She continued to sway to the music. The song changed to I Need a Girl by Trey Songz.
“You wanna dance?” Dior asked her. He hardly ever danced so he knew it had to be something about her that made him want to act different.
“Sure. Christina, I’ll be back!” she shouted over her shoulder to her Christina who just waved her off and continued to rub on Chance.
Once they got on the dance floor, they danced through four songs straight, not stopping. Once they got tired, they headed back towards the V.I.P. area. They were walking and talking.
“I wanna see you again and not at no store stealing,” he told her with a smirk.
She laughed. She wasn’t offended, but if someone else had said it she would have been mad.
“Aiight. That can be arranged. What’s ya number?” she asked, pulling out her Sidekick LX 09.
“347-555-25…” Before he could finish telling her his number gunshots rang out in different directions. He pushed her to the ground and covered her body with his. After about three minutes, the gunshots stopped and it was pandemonium in the club. Everyone was trying to find an exit.
Dior pulled her to her feet. Before he could get her to an exit Christina came and dragged her off.
“Bitch, let’s go!!” Christina yelled as she dragged Trinity off.
As Dior ran towards the back exit to his Mercedes, he saw Chance hopping into his Lexus so he knew his man was good. He sped off.