Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

by Ashley Snell

  “Damn, girl!”

  Sparkle gave him head all the way to the hotel, and when he finally parked, he was ready to sex her right there in the car. He pulled his seat back and grabbed her forcefully, pulling her onto his exposed penis. She moaned as he slipped easily into her and she started to grind him hard.

  “Wait, let’s take this up to the room,” she whispered seductively, remembering the real reason why she had come to the motel. She led the way up to room 946 and walked in and turned on the light. Slowly she slipped out of her clothes and revealed a red thong and bra set.

  “Hold up, I need to freshen up,” she said as she walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She pulled the shower curtain back to find Free standing there with his finger on his lips, signaling for her to be quiet. Her heart was pumping, and she was beginning to get nervous.

  “What now?” she asked him in a whisper that was almost inaudible.

  “Do what you would do if I wasn’t here,” he whispered back, “and I’ll take care of the rest,” and closed the shower curtain. Sparkle flushed the toilet and just as she opened the door to leave, Drake rushed in.

  “Move, girl, I got to piss,” he said as he brushed past her and closed the door on a fear-filled Sparkle.

  Free peeked through the crack of the shower curtain and had his gun aimed and ready just in case Drake had heard him or discovered his hiding spot. He watched as Drake opened up a bottle of Valtrex and turned on the water and swallowed a pill. Free almost burst out laughing as he watched Drake take the pill, then pull out his penis and examine it. This nasty mu’fucka got herpes, Free thought as he smirked and shook his head. Drake finished handling his business and walked out of the bathroom.

  Sparkle breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Drake return to the room with a smile on his face. She thought that she was caught but he hadn’t discovered Free so their plan was still in motion. She took off all his clothes and then went to the bed where she spread her legs wide open, waiting for him to enter her. He entered her slowly and she moaned loudly to let Free know that she was ready. Drake was in mid-hump when Free came out of the bathroom and hit him on the back of his head with the butt of his gun. Drake yelled out in pain as he turned around and was greeted by a masked Free, pointing a .357-caliber pistol at his dome.

  “Let’s make it simple. You know what I’m here for,” Free said calmly.

  Sparkle screamed for dramatic effect and Free slapped the shit out of her too. Her eyes bucked wide and she stumbled as she tried to pick her face up off the floor. Free laughed a little bit. She wasn’t expecting that shit, he thought.

  “I don’t have no—”

  Before Drake could even get the lie out of his mouth Free pistol-whipped him, causing him to black out.

  “Drake! Drake!” Sparkle screamed as she moved his shoulder, trying to play her role but really checking to see if he was out cold. “He’s out,” she announced as she stood up and wiped the spot of blood that trailed from her lip.

  Free reached down and pulled the three large wads of money out of his pockets. Free was good with the cash flow and from the looks of the sizes of the rolls he estimated it to be about fifteen thousand dollars. Hell, yeah! Six was right. They both left the hotel and drove toward Free’s house.

  When they arrived Six was sitting on the couch with her knees tucked into her chest, looking worried. When she saw Free walk in she practically jumped in his arms.

  “Are you okay? Did everything go as planned?” she asked as she hugged him and looked back and forth between her man and her best friend. “What happened to your lip?” she asked Sparkle with a frown.

  “Ask your boy!” she blurted out as she rolled her eyes at Free and felt the swell of her lip.

  Free shrugged and said, “I had to make it look realistic.” Six punched Free softly in the chest and laughed a little bit under her breath. “How much did we get?” was her next question.

  Free sat down and pulled the first rubber band off the money. He anxiously flipped through the bills. He peeled off the first bill and began counting, “fifty…fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three…” Free frowned up and stared up at Six. He kept flipping through the money to find that there were only one-dollar bills. He quickly unraveled the two other wads and found the same thing.

  “This frontin’-ass nigga had dollar bills wrapped up with a fifty on top. Fuck! We just robbed this mu’fucka for three hundred dollars!” He threw the bills toward the wall, and they floated in the air until they met their resting place on the living room floor. Free was pissed; he had just gotten involved in an armed robbery for some petty cash. “I thought you said he was paid!” he yelled loudly as he pointed in Sparkle’s face.

  “I thought he was! He always at the club throwing money around and talking about what he got and how much he’s moving weight. How was I supposed to know the nigga was fugazzi?” she said as she yelled back at Free and looked at Six to back her up.

  “She’s right, Free, there’s no way we could have known,” Six said.

  “Fuck this shit… I’m out! Y’all can keep that three hundred dollars. Call me when y’all ready to hit a nigga with big pockets,” Sparkle said as she walked out of the apartment, still nursing her busted lip. Free rubbed his hands over his low-cut caesar and hit the wall with his fist out of frustration. Six looked at the dollar bills that were scattered on the floor. Free was upset right now, but she knew that they needed every dollar they could get, no matter how small the amount. She put her pride aside as tears built up in her eyes, then he bent down and began to pick up the money from the floor.

  Chapter Four

  Britain “Brick” Adams slowly pulled onto the avenue in a tinted Lexus Coupe. His deep chocolate skin tone blended in perfectly with his chocolate Sean John suit, which was accented by a mocha-colored shirt and tie. His neat caesar haircut and stubble facial hair gave him the best of both worlds, making him look neat but still rugged at the same time. Britain squinted his eyes, trying to remember what the house he was searching for looked like. He spotted Jones’s house and unloosened his tie.

  “I hate these damn ties,” he said to himself as he thought about how he had to dress accordingly for his court hearing. He had just left the court concerning his illegal affairs and the prosecuting DA was painting him to be worse than Nino Brown.

  As he turned into Jones’s driveway, he saw a young woman leaving Jones’s house, and he couldn’t help but to admire her beauty. As he looked closer, he couldn’t believe his eyes. She looked very familiar to him. When he looked deeper into her facial features, he knew exactly who she was.

  “Is that Six?” he asked, remembering her from childhood. “I thought she lived in New York.” Britain noticed that she had filled out nicely since he had last seen her. He hadn’t seen her in roughly fifteen years, when she used to come down and visit her father for the summer. Britain’s father and Jones used to be crime partners back in the day. That was before Britain’s father, also nicknamed Brick, was murdered during a botched robbery. Jones was present and held Britain’s father in his arms as he left this earth.

  Britain quickly snapped out of his daydream and watched as Six pulled off. He was there to see Jones, who he hadn’t talked to in over five years. Every since Britain’s heroin business had expanded, he strayed away from Jones, who was his mentor and godfather. Britain stepped out of his car and introduced his expensive Mauri gators to the pavement. He walked up to the door and knocked on it at the same rhythm he always did.

  Moments later, Jones came to the door with a big smile on his face and a tightly rolled joint hanging from the right side of his mouth.

  “Li’l Brick! Come here, boy,” Jones said as he pulled the grown man close to him as if he was a little boy.

  “Jones! What’s up, old man? Long time no see,” Britain said as they unlocked their strong embrace and he stepped into the house.

  “Old man? It ain’t nothing about me old, youngblood. Better ask that twenty-one-year-old I
had over here last night,” Jones said playfully as he smoothly strolled over to his couch and sat down. “Have a seat,” he demanded.

  “Thanks,” Britain said humbly as he took a seat directly in front of him.

  “To what did I owe this visit?” Jones asked as one of his eyes closed while lighting up the Mary Jane.

  “OG, I been going through some shit lately,” Britain said as he sat back and rested his hands on his lap.

  “I know, I know. I’ve been seeing that shit on CNN for the past month now. They are making you out to be a damn monster. Drug kingpin! Killer! Every other word that bitch Nancy Grace is calling you is something negative,” Jones said just before he took a deep, slow pull of his joint.

  “Tell me about it,” Britain said as he shook his head in disgust at the way the media was portraying him. Although he was a heroin kingpin, he wasn’t a monster. He never killed anyone who didn’t have it coming, and he was a very loyal person. He was from the ghetto of Detroit, where the success rate was very low for a black male, and he did what he had to do to come up. “They don’t have a strong case against me. It’s only one thing that has me worried,” Britain confessed to Jones.

  “What’s that?” Jones asked, trying to get a better understanding of what Britain was getting at.

  Britain leaned in close to Jones, as if he was sharing a secret or someone was listening in on them. “They got a witness that supposed to testify against me,” he said.

  “Damn,” Jones huffed as he thought about snitch niggas. “What does he know?” Jones said in a lowered tone, matching Britain’s.

  “Everything,” Britain said in a frustrated whisper. “He used to run packs for me. I took the nigga under my wing, showed him how to get money, and he turned on me.”

  “I hate snitches!” Jones said as he shook his head from side to side.

  “He’s singing like a bird, Jones.”

  “When is he supposed to testify?” Jones asked, trying to help Britain sort out his little problem.

  “In one month exactly,” Britain responded.

  “Well, you know what you got to do. It’s just that simple,” Jones said as he flicked the ashes into his ashtray.

  “It’s not that easy. The feds got him in custody. That’s why I came to you,” Britain said as he looked Jones dead in the eyes.

  “Oh, no, youngblood. I retired years ago. I can’t move around like I used to. That’s a young man’s job, ya dig?” Jones stated.

  “I know, I know. But I have to have this done right. By one of the best,” Britain said, trying to urge Jones to come out of retirement.

  “I know where you getting at, but I stepped out of the murder game ten years ago,” Jones said.

  “You know I wouldn’t have come to you unless I really needed you. The feds got all of my associates under a microscope, and I can’t make a move. I need an outside source to take care of this one for me. I need that end clipped, nah mean?” Britain said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “This is just in case you have a change of heart. It’s the picture, location, and rundown of the snitch. He is being held just outside the city under the FBI’s watch. Just to throw it out there… I’m paying a quarter mill for his head. His name is Jermaine Harris. I only need the snitch hit, nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Damn—a quarter million?” Jones stated in surprise.

  “My freedom is worth that,” Britain replied seriously.

  Jones picked up the envelope and thought hard before he gave Britain a final no. Immediately, a lightbulb popped in Jones’s head, and he began to think about Free. He knew that Free used to put his murder game down before he went to prison and was more than qualified for the job. “I’m not fucking with it. But I think I know someone who is perfect for the contract. I’m pretty sure he can handle it, and he needs the money. I vouch for him,” Jones said, thinking about Free’s potential comeup.

  “Okay. Just please get it done for me,” Britain said as he stood up and held out his hand. Jones also stood up and then shook Britain’s hand. Britain headed toward the door, but stopped just before he opened it and stepped out. “Was that Six that was leaving when I pulled up?” he asked.

  “Yeah, that was her. Y’all used to fight like cats and dogs growing up. I’m surprised you still remember her,” Jones stated.

  I remember her, all right, Britain thought, remembering what he had seen earlier. She had a beautiful shape, and he told himself that if he saw her again, he would make sure to reintroduce himself.

  “Later, Jones,” Britain said before he exited.

  Jones picked up the phone, and made a call to Free. He had a great opportunity for him.

  Free sat in front of Jones, looking at the surveillance pictures of the snitch being escorted into a small safe house. Free was thrilled, knowing that he was about to come into some major money.

  “The only problem is that he is guarded by the feds,” Jones added as he licked the rolling paper after he completed rolling up a doobie.

  “The feds?” Free asked as he sat back and looked at Jones as if he was crazy.

  “Yeah. I’m not saying you should take it, but it sure is good money.”

  Free thought long and hard about his situation and figured he had nothing to lose. If he didn’t pay back the Russians, he was as good as dead and he had to go all in. Desperate times called for desperate measures and that statement couldn’t have been truer in this situation.

  “Fuck it! I’ma hit ’em. How much he paying again?” Free double-checked.

  “A quarter mill. However, I’m taking twenty-five percent. Ya know, in commission fees.”

  “Twenty-five percent? Damn, Jones! What happen to ten to fifteen percent for commissions?” Free asked, giving Jones a slight grin.

  “Baby, this is the streets. This ain’t no real estate deal. Jones got to eat, baby!” he said charmingly as he smiled back and took a pull of the joint.

  “I feel you. I feel you. You are a stone-cold hustler, you know that?” Free said as he admired the bluntness and savvy of the man sitting in front of him who was thirty years his senior. They both shook hands, and Free gathered all the information back into the envelope before slipping it into his inside coat pocket. He was about to get on his hustle; murder for hire was the name of the game.

  Chapter Five

  Free and Big Lou sat in the tinted Dodge Charger and watched the silhouettes of the men that moved around within the house. They were deep in the suburbs in the city of Oak Park, just outside Detroit’s city limits. They were staked out discreetly a couple of houses down from the safe house where the agents were guarding Jermaine. The curtains were closed so they couldn’t see exactly how many people were in the house, but they knew that Jermaine was inside because of the information that Britain had supplied Jones with. They had been watching the house nonstop for the past four days and were waiting for a small slip so that they could hit Britain’s snitch.

  “This shit is useless. We’re just wasting our damn time,” Lou complained as he eyed the door in frustration. Free slowly put his hand up, almost as if he was gesturing Lou to calm down.

  “Trust me, Lou. We just have to be patient, feel me?” Free asked with confidence. Just as Lou opened his mouth to respond, a car pulled up to the house. Free instantly sat up and looked closer at the vehicle that pulled into the driveway of the spot. After a couple of seconds, a skinny teen jumped out of the car with three boxes of pizza while his car was left running.

  “Them mu’fuckas forever ordering pizzas,” Lou said as he leaned his head back in the headrest. Free watched as the kid went to the door and knocked. The same man opened the door and took the pizza, just as he did the past couple of nights. Free noticed that the well-built white man had a gun on his waist and his shiny badge was noticeable from a mile away.

  “I wonder how many agents are in there?” Free asked as he rubbed his chin, trying to sort things out in his head.

  “Don’t know. But how we going to ge
t to this nigga when he guarded by the feds? We can’t just go in blasting. That would be suicide,” Lou exclaimed. Free slowly grew a smile on his face as he got an idea on how they could get in to the snitch.

  “What the fuck you got up your sleeve?” Lou asked as he noticed the sudden change in Free’s facial expression.

  “I got a plan,” Free said as he watched the pizza man take money from the agent and head back to his car.

  Two days later, once again, Free and Big Lou were waiting patiently a couple of houses down from the safe house.

  “Bingo,” Lou whispered as he saw the same car pull up that had come two days earlier. Lou and Free cocked their guns back at the same time and then pulled the ski masks over their face, only exposing their eyes and lips. They both jumped out of the car and crept up on the pizza delivery guy as he approached the porch. Free snatched him back just be fore he put one foot on the steps that led to the safe house.

  “Aghhh,” the unsuspecting teen yelled as he didn’t know what hit him.

  Free quickly put his hand over the teen’s mouth and pulled him to the side of the house where Lou’s big ass was crouched down.

  “Listen, little nigga,” Free whispered harshly as he placed the cold steel on the teen’s neck. “If you do what I say, everything is going to be okay.” Free pulled his hand from over the boy’s mouth and waited for a response. The boy still had the pizza boxes in his hands and was sweating like a hooker in church. He was nervous as hell and didn’t know what was going on. He nodded in agreement, and Free and Lou smiled, knowing that they were about to make the contract money.