Voorheeze & Clarkola

by De'Kari

  “But check it out Dad. We’re ready on that other thang we was waiting on.” Tut told Clark getting back to business.

  “Is that right?” Clark asked.

  “Alright let’s make it happen.” The green light was just giving.

  “Shit’s been quiet since Sutton was killed. They didn’t know if Y.N.M. was scared, done and over or what. Clark had been on some other shit. So, shit’s been quiet. While it’s been quiet, Tut’s been planning. It was time to finish what was started.

  They walked into the apartment complex each carrying a duffle bag full of dope without a care in the world, eyes scanning the apartment. There was some chick and a dude sat on the couch to the left of the room.

  “Big Tree Top, what’s up Rogue?”

  “Young Money what’s up?” Tree Top responds to Clark as the two embrace each other.

  He sees Clark looking over at the couch. “Oh, brah don’t worry bout them. That’s my security.”

  Clark noticed that the braud had a nice lil blanket draped across her legs.

  “Shit it’s all good Rogue. So, nigga when you come home?” He asked the giant.

  “Nigga two weeks ago. Nigga dats long enough to get it going and too long not to have started.” Tree Top was a real hustla. Standing 6’9” you’d think he was a basketball player.

  “Anyway, what you got for me?” Clark asked him.

  Tree Top reached under the table and grabbed a black sports duffle bag a little bigger than the ones they had. Clark unzipped the bag, he was greeted with all big faces. Tree Top was true to his word. The bag contained two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Payment for ten kilos.

  “Since everything is good nigga, here’s a welcome home gift for you.” He sat his duffle bag on the table and Tut did the same. “The ten for the deal is in the first bag, the second is ten more on consignment. You can hit me when you done. But we gotta add two points on the other ten.”

  “No doubt, my nigga that’s love! Nigga I got you. I’ll be at you soon brah.” Tree Top was hella excited. He was about to get back to his rightful spot as King of San Jose!

  All while they were talking Tut and the two on the couch was doing nothing but watching each other. Out of the two he could sense that she was the problem. They’d been in there too long by Tut’s calculation.

  He was about to say something when somebody knocked on the door. Instantly Tut had one of his 40’s out. Clark thought Tree Top was a good dude, but he didn’t put nothing past anybody. His banger was out too. Little Mama was holding a baby AR in her hands. Dude answered the door. It ended up being some little old lady from the Catholic Church looking for donations. Everyone released their breath and relaxed. Tree Top gave her a hundred dollars and sent her on her way. Clark and Tut got the fuck up out of there after that. The bag went in the trunk and they drove off.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  San Mateo

  Voorheeze was just leaving the Hillsdale Shopping Center picking up a few things for Danika. He was high as hell, feeling good and ready to tear her sweet pussy up. As if she had ESP when it came to him being horny, Vieira called, she wanted him to meet her at the Four Seasons Hotel.

  Now how in the hell was he supposed to turn that down. Plus, he was already heading that way. He would have to pass the Four Seasons in East Palo Alto on his way to the house. Shit, to him it was a sign, fate or destiny or some shit like that. He snorted some more coke and made his way to his little white addiction. He chuckled as he thought about the analogy.

  “Snorting on that white chick, I’mma about to fuck dat white chick.” Haha! Hahaha! He started laughing out loud.

  Out of nowhere a vision of Jay being murdered by the police popped into his head. He saw his best friend being shot over seventeen times in the back by the police while running, after he jumped out of a stolen car.

  The car swerved, he barely missed smacking into the back of a Suburban. Sweat running down his face Voorheeze realized that in what he thought was a split second he had actually traveled almost a mile down the freeway. Sweat was pouring down his face. He hit the button and rolled the window down.

  “What the fuck was that?” He wondered out loud as he exited off the freeway onto University Ave. heading for the Four Seasons. As he was pulling up he received a text message “Room 428, your key card will be waiting for you. Hurry!”

  Vieira was just getting out of the shower when she heard Voorheeze coming in the door. She stares at herself in the mirror as the droplets of water run down her body. She thinks of when she was twenty-five and men would fall head over heels for her. But that was years ago she tells herself with a frown on her face.

  “Aint no way in hell you can be staring at all this beauty right here and be frowning. So, what’s up?” Voorheeze says into her ear before nibbling on it. His huge arms wrapped around her body from behind.

  “You talking about this big o’le fat ass?” She questions as she smacks her own ass cheek.

  “Call it what you want but this big o’le mothafucka is sexy as hell.” He tells her just before he grabs a handful exactly where she spanked herself.

  Vieira feels his hardened dick pressing against her. She tilts her head back and presses back into him.

  “Mmm.” A moan escapes her mouth when his hands reach up and cup her breast. He pinches her nipple and bites down on her neck. The electric shock it causes races towards the tingling that was generated from him pinching her nipples.

  When the two sensations collide, her pussy explodes!

  “You want me to show you just how sexy you are?” He teases her.

  “P-Please. Please show me.” She begs, craving the feeling of him inside of her.

  “Naaw you don’t want me to show you.” He pinches both of her nipples a little harder as he further teases her. He knows that pinching her nipples drives her completely crazy.

  “I-I do! Right now, please LaMont give it to me give me that Big Black dick Babe.” She seductively croons.

  His dick jumps. He loves it when she talks dirty. He can’t see the smile that spread on her face. She knows he loves her to talk dirty.

  “Come on Daddy put that big black dick in this hot pussy. Spank this big fat white ass while you fuck me.”

  That did it! He roughly turns her away from the mirror and bends her over the sink. He doesn’t check to see if she’s wet or not. He doesn’t have to, he could hear the lust in her voice. He rams all ten inches of his dick all the way in her.

  “Aarrgh!” Vieira yells out more from the shock than the pain. She loves the feel of his rock-hard dick inside of her. Her favorite dildo isn’t as hard as him.

  Voorheeze is mesmerized at the sight of her big white ass bouncing back and forth off of him. That big o’le ass looks divine as the ripples flow across her flesh every time she bumps into him. When he smacks her ass, she really picks up speed.

  “Yes! Yes! Oh, Give it to me! Give me that Black mothafucka!” She cries out. Her big o’le titties clap like two pair of hands their fucking so hard.

  Smack!

  He hits her ass even harder. Then he grabs a hand full of her hair and yanks her head back.

  “Do it Baby! Do it! Fuck this puss! Fuck Mamaaaa!

  Eeeee!” The dirty talk does it, he can’t take it no more!

  At the same time her walls vibrate as her pussy erupts again, spraying out a geyser as she cums.

  “Oh fuck! Shit! God Damn! He calls out just before he pulls out of her and sprays that big white ass with about a thousand kids.

  The shit was so powerful that his knees buckled, and he collapsed right there on the bathroom floor. Breathing deeply and sweating profusely. The cold tile on the floor was soothing to his body that feels more like a furnace than a body.

  20 minutes later

  They lay in bed, freshly showered and cleaned of all their earlier activity. Vieira rubs her hand across his muscled chest softly playing with his chest hair. They’ve been dealing with one another long enough for her to start develop
ing some serious feelings.

  Every time they’re together he treats her like she is the only woman on earth. He gives her his utmost, heartfelt attention. Voorheeze always seems to say the right thing at the right time to make her feel special. When he looks at her it’s with so much desire that she feels like she is the most beautiful woman in the world. She snuggles closer to him trying to absorb as much of his body heat as she can.

  Voorheeze on the other hand is miles away lost in his own mind. Haunted by his memories. Memories he tries desperately to bury in the back of his mind forever. He’s not that lucky though.

  He’s back in San Quentin Reception. The filth tier back bar inside of West Block. They just released for dinner. As he walks by Big Country’s cell, Voorheeze sees that Country’s back is against the bars. He slides the make-shift knife out his waistline and stabs the huge mothafucka over and over.

  Next, he’s in Berkley. This is his first time ever being in this city. It took him a year to track down Oscar Piggy, but he finally did. Pleasure intoxicates him as he stands over the lifeless body.

  He got Mondo eight months before that, leaving some bitch’s apartment on 59th in East Oakland. He sees the blood flying out of Dawoo as he stabs him over and over, fourteen times inside the cell in Tracy.

  The bodies start to swarm through his mind. He doesn’t realize he’s starting to sweat all over again. His heart rate accelerates, and he begins to yell. It’s really a cry that just sounds like a yell.

  “LaMont! LaMont! Baby wake up! LaMont!” Vieira knows the signs she’s been thru this before with her brother.

  “Come on Baby it’s okay wake up.” She’s cradling him in her arms now.

  When LaMont finally wakes up he doesn’t know what just happened. He remembers all the dead mothafuckas but he doesn’t remember ever closing his eyes. He thinks it was a nightmare, he doesn’t realize he suffers from PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He doesn’t know about the yelling and had no idea about the crying he did. He senses something aint right.

  First, he feels embarrassed, then he realizes there is nothing to be embarrassed about cause he doesn’t know shit!

  He frees himself from her and goes to take another shower.

  **** N. D. ****

  A week later

  It was a bright and shiny day. Nice and warm with a slight breeze. The type of day you would have a picnic or a bar-b-q. It should’ve been a day of laughter and fun. Instead it was one of loss and hurt as they gathered at the Church preparing to bury one of their own. Naturally the entire family came out to say farewell to their sister.

  Anne was the last member of rank to join the Family. It wasn’t that long ago but with all the shit they’ve been through their bond was unbreakable. She wasn’t just a She-Wolf, she was a Chiba! French Tip couldn’t believe it when she heard the news. None of them could.

  All the She-Wolves stood wearing pink instead of black.

  Voorheeze was there but he wasn’t. His physical body may have been at the Church, but his mind was elsewhere. He felt bad for ever questioning Anne’s gangsta. Something had snapped in Voorheeze. The only thing on his mind was actually written on the T-Shirts that everybody was wearing, R.I.P. Revenge Is Promised! He didn’t want to step on his brothers toes with this shit. But fuck it! It was time to do what should’ve been done. Send in the Wolves! All of them!

  The picture of her in the frame sitting on top of the closed casket was a beautiful one. Anne’s smile was so beautiful. A smile that will neva be seen again. Jenn sat in the front row with a face full of tears. She was holding a little baby in her arms.

  The preacher was doing his thing. He was a young minister yet the message that he shared was always powerful. Right now, he was speaking of the ills of the violence connected with the street life. He was a soldier in the streets. He was sharing with the crowd how he used to be in the streets but changed thanks to God.

  His name is Pastor Juan. Now he was a soldier for God. Though he doesn’t know it, because it will be a while before it surfaced, his message touched the hearts of a couple of people. It was that heart-warming.

  When the preacher was finished, it was over, and people began saying their good bye’s and leaving. Voorheeze needed some air. He hated funerals. He was trying to hurry up but the people in front of him were moving too damn slow. Finally, he was at the door. He heard Jenn call him, but he ignored her. Shit he needed some fucking air. He opened the door and stepped out into the blinding sunlight.

  BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA!

  Taat! Taat! Taat! Taat! Boom! Boom!

  Shots were coming from everywhere. Unfortunately, most of the people outside were friends and relatives of Anne’s, they were civilians who got mowed down. But those that were Dragon Gang got off wit them thangs.

  BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA!

  Voorheeze didn’t hesitate he let that .40 sing a tune.

  There were two niggaz to his right side standing in the middle of the street next to a minivan. About four or five little mothafuckas were in the front of him across the street ducked off behind cars and shit. He couldn’t see to the left, but he knew somebody was there. He could feel them. He needed to get to the parked cars and use them for cover. The relatives were squirming on the ground trying desperately to find somewhere to hide. Some were screaming, others crying and calling out for help.

  BOOM!

  The door to the Church came busting open. Unfortunately for the niggaz that came to shoot up the funeral a platoon of killaz came thru that door.

  BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

  BOCA! BOCCA!

  BOOM! BOCCA! BOOM!

  Neva Die came storming out of the Church getting off.

  Voorheeze used that distraction to his advantage and raced to the parked cars. Now that the tables were turned, he figured niggaz would try to run. He wasn’t having that!

  He ran, crouching down past two cars.

  Gunfire was still going off everywhere. He rose, both bangers ready.

  BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCCA! BOCA! One of the niggaz standing to the right in the street spun around from first slug from one of Voorheeze’s 40’s. The second nigga got hit in the chest.

  The nigga on his left started to lift his hand and return fire but stopped midway. He couldn’t lift his arm, something was wrong. He didn’t realize a slug ripped through his head.

  It’s over, kleets! His body collapsed right there.

  As soon as French Tip heard the shots she rushed to the door. By the time she got there her 40 was in her hand. First thing she saw was a nigga in the street aiming his gun at her brother.

  BOC! BOC! BOC! BOC! BOC!

  When he hit the ground his body just started convulsing, she looked for another target.

  During the commotion and chaos Drew made it to his car.

  Taata! Taata! Taata! Taata! Taat!

  He had the AR-15 in his hands lighting shit up.

  Two little niggaz dropped as soon as Drew opened fire.

  A shot came from the left and caught DJ in the shoulder spinning him around. But his finger was on the trigger, when he got shot his finger squeezed the trigger and the bullet smacked Drew in the back of the head, killing him instantly.

  Voorheeze ran to Drew, picked up the AR and prepared himself. He looked at French Tip, she already knew. She nodded her head to let him know she understood. She raised her arm and sent as many shots as she could for cover. Voorheeze used that time to run across the street. He ducked down behind a car and peeked around it. He could see them.

  He raised up.

  Taata! Taata! Taata! Taata! Taata! Taata! Taata! Taata!

  BOC! BOC! BOC!

  Every last one of them lay dead on the ground, bodies riddled the fuck up. Voorheeze turned and started to cross the street. Suddenly, his legs felt like they weighed one hundred pounds each, he couldn’t take another step. He looked across the street at French Tip, he tried to say something to her, but he couldn’t. He felt helpless. The helplessness scared him. The AR-
15 fell out of his hands. Then he stumbled forward and fell on his face.

  **** N. D. ****

  Officer Hedgecock knew that his instincts were right. He caught up with Voorheeze the other day and had been tailing him ever since. This morning when he followed him he was shocked to see him going to church. Not this guy, Hedgecock thought.

  Hedgecock realized it was a funeral. Looking at the type of people he was seeing he knew it was trouble.

  “Fucking niggers always make trouble”. He was sitting low in the seat almost falling asleep when he saw the two vans pull up and a bunch of teenagers jumping out with all types of guns and rifles in their hands. These were damn kids for Christ sake! He wanted to radio in and call for back-up because from what he saw there was going to be a massacre. He couldn’t call-in because he was not supposed to be there.

  Hedgecock wrestled over what he should do when before he knew it, all hell broke loose. One-minute people were walking out of the church and suddenly, the little kids started shooting at the people leaving.

  He couldn’t believe he was witnessing multiple murders and he couldn’t do anything about it. If he tried to stop them, he would have been killed. He watched as one, big bald guy was taking on all of them by himself. Hedgecock saw him kill the first two. When the church door flew open it was complete pandemonium.

  These weren’t your average criminals. These were monsters! They were having an all-out war in the middle of the street. A stray bullet busted the back window of his car. Hedgecock was so fucking scared. He tried to scoot and crouch down under the steering wheel as far as he could.

  This wasn’t police work. This was begging for death. Hedgecock couldn’t remember the last time he prayed but he prayed right then. Another bullet slammed into the car and he screamed. After a while he didn’t hear any more gunshots so he waited a little longer and checked. He didn’t’ see anything but bodies. He got the fuck outta there!