The initial, broad-shouldered stranger leaped into the melee. His haymaker grazing the smaller KT’s chin, the men were locked in combat. Grappling for the position, the much larger stranger was met by KT’s surprisingly fierce resistance. He withstood a straight left to his jaw. Countering with an overhand right, he shoved KT against the SUV and connected with a brutal right-left punch combination to his chest. KT, oxygen nearly knocked from his lungs, dodged a second grapple attempt.
Keisha, crying and screaming, leaped onto the large man's back. By her hair, she was tossed ragdoll-like over his shoulder and slammed on top of the Nissan Pathfinder roof.
KT, enraged by her agonizing cry, unleashed a flurry of brutal overhand lefts. The large man succumbing to the barrage was powerless to prevent his lower legs from being grabbed. He was hoisted high into the air. Slammed sideways, his collarbone crackled against the asphalt.
KT winded, backed away from the agony-stricken stranger. Himself agony-stricken, his assailants were either unconscious or riving agonizingly. He helped Keisha from atop his SUV roof. She held onto him for dear life and wept.
Candance was exhausted. Her clothes were ruined; she was drenched in perspiration. Ready to climb back inside the Nissan Pathfinder, she caught faint movement. She ran to the other side of the vehicle. The large stranger, sprawled in a humiliating defeat, reached into his boot. He drew a small, black revolver and aimed at Keisha. Just as his index finger wrapped around the trigger, Candace cut loose with her Taser.
The man screamed from the torment of 10,000 volts scorching him internally. He convulsed then fainted. His bowels released, the stink of urine and fecal matter soiled the vicinity.
Candace lowered her Taser then climbed into the Nissan Pathfinder front passenger seat. KT helped Keisha into the rear. Dynamo, with blood trickling from the back of his head, slowly climbed behind the wheel. He was given the keys. Keying the ignition keyed, he raced out of the battle ruined Chez LeFluer parking lot. They returned to the Hilton Hotel and quickly gathered their belongings. The group taking to the interstate watched Ocean City, Maryland, vanish in the rear distance.
Dynamo glanced at the rear passenger seat. He scoffed at how KT was cradling a weeping Keisha. He jeered. "Fam, shorty doo-wop need to tell us what the fuck just happened."
KT, agitated by Dynamo's brusqueness, replied. "Give her a few minutes to settle down.”
"Nawh damn that! Our weekend turns into a fucking Royal Rumble. We need some fucking answers now!"
Keisha stalled KT's primed tirade. She wiped her tears. Her composure somewhat reclaimed, she privy the group to the reason behind the violent altercation.
∗
Years ago, Keisha was romantically involved with the large stranger known as Pierre. A native of Baltimore, Maryland, by way of the Berkeley, Norfolk area. He was a captain within the Bounty Hunter Blood street-gang. He lavished Keisha with the finest things. Falling headlong into his thug mystique, she confessed to being devastated by allegations of Pierre’s infidelity. When she confronted him, not only was he brutally honest, he dared her to try and end their relationship.
∗
Awe-struck, Candace asked her. "So, what did you do?"
"I hooked his best friend up with this gold digger everybody said I favor. She agreed to take pictures. I photo-shop the flicks, so it'll look like I was sleeping with his best friend, then put the pictures somewhere I knew Pierre would look." Keisha accepted Dynamo's disdain. "I know it was dirty, but his friend, Sea Breeze, a snake too. He always tried to get me to sleep with him. He would even buy me things then lie, saying he saw me shopping with other men. Pierre said he would never take a man's word over his woman's, but he was always leery."
KT chimed in. "If you knew this Sea Breeze cat was foul, why accept the gifts?"
"What teen girl turns down diamonds?"
"Sea Breeze... Sea Breeze." Dynamo mumbled to himself. "Fam, Sea Breeze be coming through the hood sometimes in a crème Infiniti. If I'm not mistaken, he either Ski-Beau or Meatball peoples. And he definitely a bricklayer."
KT looked to Keisha. "What's up with Pierre?"
"He left Norfolk after he was charged with attempted murder. The police still looking for him."
"Now my question is, if this Pierre a Bounty Hunter Blood captain, his ace Sea Breeze probably is too... so what is he doing coming through Ingleside dealing with Crips? Peoples or not, that's not adding up."
Keisha replied. "When money is involved, those two don't care about colors other than green."
Candance draped her left arm across the driver seat headrest and leaned into Dynamo. Her tongue coursing along his cheek, she suckled his earlobe. "DY, you were so powerful handling your business." She led his right hand underneath her ruined Andrina wrap dress. Her thong was damp. "Find somewhere to park."
Dynamo, disregarding KT's apprehension, propelled the Nissan Pathfinder down the next interstate exit ramp. Down an easily missed side street, he parked and killed the engine.
Candace, unbuckling his belt & slacks, collapsed his boxers. Slow stroking his maturing shaft, she was taken by the warm blood coursing his bulging veins. She savored his masculine waft. Happily, she took Dynamo into her mouth.
Keisha was amazed by the sexually liberated Candace. Her blood simmering, she laid across the rear passenger seat and said. "Baby, think I'm ready."
KT watched as she hoists her ruined Christian Dior tube dress around her waist. He discarded his ruined blazer and silk shirt. His slacks and boxers collapsed; he draped her left leg atop the rear passenger seat backrest. Settled between her thighs, he kissed her.
Keisha eased her thong to the side. Peering into KT’s deep, dark eyes, she gasped with acceptance of him slowly entering her. She settled into him, familiarizing himself with her feminine epicenter.
KT was overwhelmed by the euphoria of her warm, moist, virgin-snug loins massaging his manhood. Her enchanted moan serenaded their shared intimacy. His sensual angled stroked, exploring her womanly depths, he groaned. “Damn, beautiful.”
"You so strong, so much man... My gawd..." Keisha was taken into an impassioned, eternity-long kiss. Their shared breathing and pirouetting tongues danced to the exhilaration of finally becoming one.
Candance removed her thong. Her ruined Diane Von Furstenberg, Andrina wrap dress hoist around her waist, she straddled Dynamo cowgirl in the driver seat. He palmed her buttock as she swayed along his upstroke. Candance riding Dynamo was transfixed on the rear activity. She marveled how KT, with every angled stroke, seemed to hurl Keisha deeper into ultimate nirvana. Their impassioned kisses seemed ordained from the heavens—soul mates united from the ashes of battle.
Candace, gnawing Dynamo’s mouth, constricted her vagina muscles upon every experienced sway. She cherished his manly moans and surrendered control. She whimpered. "Dy, you love this pussy?"
Dynamo wailed. "Shiiiit, you my bitch! Dis my pussy!"
One with the majestic Keisha purring beneath him, KT relish her natural moisture soaking their conjoined organs of pleasure. The way her loins pulsated along his slowly intensifying long-stroke ushered in her ever-tightening eyes.
Keisha flared her nostrils and snarled her lips. Her whimper serenaded their conjoined ecstasy. Together they were hurled into the climatic abyss. They shared a simultaneous climax.
Keisha savored his warm, thick semen flooding her feminine epicenter. She pulled him into a long, slow kiss and said. "Baby... I don't know what would've happened if yawl wasn't there."
KT, with his forehead against hers, replied. "I'll never let anything happen to you."
Candance, hugging the driver seat backrest, was swayed along Dynamo's intensified upstroke. His howl serenaded several bursts of semen, filling her feminine depths. Exhausted, she looked to the couple occupying the rear SUV seats and said, "Keisha, they taking us shopping when we get back."
To love, I must have something I can put my arms around
-Henry Ward Beecher 1813-1887
> CHAPTER 7
If you bear the cross willingly, it will bear you
-Thomas Kempis 1380-1471
Waverly Way
Villa Heights, Norfolk
3:30 am following early morning
KT stepped into his apartment and tossed his keys onto the coffee table. He plops down on the sectional sofa. Exhaling exhaustedly, he pondered the earlier Ocean City, Maryland mayhem. He couldn't escape the likelihood of confronting other scorned lovers from Keisha's past. He was taught to believe everyone wears a mask in public—several to be exact. What truly lies beneath the surface was always to be determined. One thing KT was sure of, the stranger known as Pierre, held genuine hatred for Keisha.
He dozed off when the thud of heavy boots resonated from above. The wooden stairs creaked. KT reached underneath his sofa then quietly engaged the hammer slide on his 40 caliber Glock. A round chambered, he ducked behind the partition separating the kitchen and dining area. He aimed at his staircase.
A hoarse voice called down. "Big bro, it’s me."
KT put his handgun away. He glared at the younger man descending his apartment stairs. "Never mind how you got in. What the hell you doing here?"
Big Suge took a slow, agony-plagued seat. He spoke about an incident nineteen hours old...
∗
Hot Rod propelled his 1983 Buick Regal through the Hampton Roads Bay Bridge Tunnel. Leaving Norfolk, Va. for the Hampton, Va. city limits, he parked along Shell Road. Wearing matching baseball caps, sunshades, jeans & dark t-shirts adorn, he & Big Suge strolled into the sun-blessed, lower-middle-class morning and around the residential street corner
The duo approached their Queen Street destination. They noticed three Queen Street Bloods gang members tending to a line of impatient heroin addicts. Hot Rod’s hand underneath his t-shirt, he staggered to the front of the line.
A short, urban-clad, red bandana adorned youngster shoved him back and said, “Get back in fucking line pluck. You ain't special.”
"Maine man, I need to get off E bad. I gots plenty bread, just hook me up." Hot Rod showed him a wad of crumpled bills.
“How many you tryna cop?"
Hot Rod snatched a sawed-off, pump-action, 12-gauge Mossberg shotgun from inside his pant leg and replied. "I was thinking all of it. The cash and whatever else the homies holding." He slammed his shotgun into the defiant youngster's forehead, then stepped over the unconscious man. His real targets acquired, he aimed at the remaining two gang members, and he barked. "One of yawl muthafuckas move, everybody pine boxed!"
Big Suge gripping a 9mm Ruger P-92 and grocery bag, approached the gangbangers. "The bread or yo life, we good either way." From the trunk of a nearby Mazda sedan, he was given a cash-stuffed paper bag. Told where else to look, from behind the Mazda’s right rear wheel well, he confiscated a Royal Crown pouch filled to the brim with heroin capsules. Big Suge emptied the gangbangers' pockets. The heroin addicts ran off unscathed.
Big Suge and Hot Rod, satisfied with their instant cash influx, made the fear-stricken gangbangers run towards the far corner. They dashed back around the nearby street corner, back onto Shell Road.
Hot Rod, back behind his Buick Regal steering wheel, keyed the ignition. Pulling away from the street curb, he gloated. "Told yo ass, the best time to catch em was in the morning. Hustlers know what the night brings, so the real bread is made in the morning. Especially dealing with diesel (heroin)."
Big Suge jeered. "About time you got one right."
"How much we ge__" Fully automatic thunder roaring in the near distance, the Buick Regal driver window exploded. An incredible force slammed into Hot Rod. The out-of-control sedan slammed into a parked car.
The impact sent Big Suge headfirst into the dashboard. Showered with glass shards, his vision was blurred. He fought the urge to sleep. He looked over and spied Hot Rod, slumped over the steering wheel. Blood was gushing from his eradicated hairline. His best friend’s eyes were wide open.
More fully automatic hellfire unleashed, the Buick Regal was littered with bullets. The interior was shredded. Rounds slammed into a motionless Hot Rod.
Big Suge spilled out of the passenger side as rounds nipped at his flesh. Crouched behind the sedan, he wiped his tears. He tucked the loaded grocery bag behind his belt buckle then drew his 9mm Ruger P-92. A swarm of red bandana masked, gun-blazing men charged from around the far street corner.
Big Suge rose and fired upon his pursuers. Sirens blaring in the fast declining distance, return fire showered the vicinity. Big Suge fled.
Gunfire pursuing his every move, he weaved between several parked vehicles. Metal clinked, and glass exploded all around him. He crossed the street then bashed between two ranch-style homes. He dove over a backyard fence. Several blocks over, he broke into a tool shed. Winded, he noticed he was no longer being pursued.
Big Suge stole a Philips screwdriver. Minutes later, he found a stolen early model Dodge pickup.
∗
KT hugged his sibling. "You did all you could."
"I should've never left him. Hot Rod got bodied, never knowing what hit us." Big Suge tossed the cluttered grocery bag on the coffee table. "That's what got my ace killed. Twelve thousand and some fucking dope eggs" Watching KT activate his television, he sighed dejectedly. "Big bro, it’s too early for the morning news."
"You know what I'm looking for."
"That shit been reported ever since it happened. I came here cause going home not an option now. I fucked up bad on this one."
KT stashed the grocery bag then asked, "Suge, when the last time you talked to that cutie pie down south you go see now and then?"
Big Suge eyed him coldly. "Fuck that, bro, I’ne going no fucking where! Every one of the Queen Street Bloods paying for Hot Rod!”
"I feel you, bro, but that shit going on the back burner. Cause once Poe-9 ID Hot Rod, which they already have, they running down on all his associates. That includes us both. My alibi rock-solid, yours on the other hand."
"Them Blood dudes dumped on us first, so I doubt if they stupid enough to talk to Poe-9.”
"Suge get serious, muthafuckas always talk. The addicts yawl ran off, civilians out and about, looking out the windows. Somebody gone talk to Poe-9. So, we gotta assume they already know you were involved. So right now, we gotta hang back, let Poe-9 apply pressure and see what’s what." KT tossed his cellphone to him. "Call shorty down south and tell her you be there later today."
KT went to Big Suge’s apartment and gathered his belongings. Two hours after returning home from Ocean City, Maryland, and all that entails, he was propelling his Nissan Pathfinder down I-95 South.
∗
Bulls Corner Road
Yemassee, South Carolina
3 pm later same day
After an exhausting 7½ hour road trip, KT finally crossed into rural Yemassee, South Carolina. Racing down the wilderness-aligned, 2 lane Bulls Corner Road, he turned onto a gravel driveway. A cinnamon skin-toned woman was standing outside of a double-wide trailer.
KT stopped his brother from exiting his SUV. He gave him the original copy of his birth certificate & social security card, then said. "Keep both inside yo wallet. Poe-9, get behind you, use my name. Tell em you lost yo driver’s license, sent off for those, and now you just waiting for the DMV to open. So, don't go any fucking where until you know DMV is closed. And you can only use that excuse once or twice, so be careful."
Big Suge shrugged. "I know what's at stake."
"Suge, I'm serious. You get bagged down here doing some bullshit; Poe-9 WILL fingerprint you. Then they'll know about the trouble back home. And that's ball-game for you." He gave him $10,000 to add to what he already had, then allowed him to finally exit the Nissan Pathfinder.
Big Suge feigned excitement and snatched the awaiting woman into his arms. Playfully eyeballing her crème t-shirt, sweatpants, and bunny slippers, he teased her. "Even dressed like Wayne Brady, you look yummy."
Alisha, accepting his wel
coming kiss, eased him aside. She approached KT and asked. "How have you been, mister?"
"I can't call it."
"What can you call?"
"Why Suge can't stop talking about your sexy self."
"Then how come he doesn't visit more often?" Alisha, accepting both men's smirks, led them inside her double-wide trailer. At the dining table, she fed the brothers fried chicken & potato wedges. The table cleared, she sat across Big Suge's lap. "You know my aunt asked about you."
"What she trying to get me to do now?"
"Maybe you two can help each other out."
KT chimed. "One of yawl mine plugging me into what in the hell you two talking about."
Big Suge provided the gist of what took place during his last visit. "Last time I came down, her aunt Madam Jose told me about this problem she was having with some off-brand cats in Beaufort. For fifty thou before and after, I took care of it."
“So, she looking for you to clean up more of her bullshit?"
Alisha eyed KT earnestly. "It’s not like that. Auntie looking to do real business this time."
“What you, her ambassador or something?"
“Something like that." Alisha rushed into the bedroom area. Upon her return, she placed a quarter-ounce baggie of marijuana in front of KT. "You know what that is?"
He gave the baggie a sniff. His nostrils were quickly filled with a tart, fruity aroma. KT, marveling at the thick blueberry greenish buds, replied. "Okay, you holding some blueberry Kush. If this the business you talking about, we can get blueberry in Norfolk."
Alisha quickly countered. "Not for twenty-five, you can't."
"Blueberry don't go that cheap in Jamaica. So, excuse me if I think you bullshitting."
Big Suge interjected. "Big bro, Madam Jose, a real businesswoman. If Alisha says it is, we might wanna at least talk to her about it."
Alisha set her cellphone to her face. “I’ll set up a meet for tomorrow.”
One Hustler's World Page 6