by Noire
The young girl cringed as nearly everyone in the room jumped up hollering, “Me! Me! Me! I did! I did! Yeah, I fucked her! I sucked her! I licked her too! Hell fuckin’ yeah I got me some of that! Me too! Me too! That’s a community pussy! I got me a lil bit too!”
Her baby brother stood up in the front row and the girl cried out at the sight of him. The bright lights shone down on his injuries and she moaned with grief. Jimmy raised his hand and wiggled his broken fingers in the air.
Her brother had nothing but love for the devil as he laughed and yelled, “Man, every niggah in Harlem done tapped that ass! That bitch gives some real dead head!”
The crowd cracked up laughing, and the girl could only weep as the devil gazed down at her with a dark, evil stare.
He was going to kill her.
She could see it in his eyes.
Fast as lightning, he snatched her by the throat and cut off her breath. She didn’t even struggle as his monster blows rained down on her head and he called her every kind of stank bitch and nasty hoe he could muster. He pummeled her face, her chest, and sought out her tender gut.
And when the devil finally flung her over on her stomach and began unbuckling his belt, the young girl just lay there helplessly. In total submission. She was ready to die. The will to live flew right out of her as he yanked her naked hips high in the air. His penis was black and erect, and poised to ram her straight into nightmare hell.
But the girl didn’t fight back, and she certainly didn’t refuse the devil.
There was no need to.
Because if the pretty young girl hadn’t been taught a damn thing during the two years she’d been Granite “G” McKay’s woman, she had definitely learned one thing was true: come hell or high water, the devil always got his due.
$$$$$
I woke up in bed with my nightgown tangled around my neck. Somehow I’d ripped it off in my sleep and gotten caught up in it. I struggled to catch my breath. A scream pushed against my throat and my heart banged so hard I thought my chest was about to explode. My nightmare had felt real as hell. I was so convinced it was actually happening that my fists were balled up and my booty-cheeks were clenched tight.
For a moment I was right back where it had all started. Back in Harlem. Back inside the G-Spot, the high-rolling nightclub where I had lost my soul and almost lost my life.
I glanced over and saw Gino snuggled under the sheets beside me, and suddenly everything began shifting back into focus.
They had come to me in my dreams again. My family. Grandmother, Cara, Aunt Ree, Dicey, and worst of all, Jimmy. Not the way they were when they were alive and loving me, but the way they were in death. The way G wanted me to see them, and most of all to remember them. Twisted, sliced, bloodied, broke down, shot up. Brutalized.
It had been six months since the night I’d run out of the G-Spot with nothing but a filthy sheet wrapped around me and a nasty tube sock pressed between my legs. Six months since the life I was living had cost me almost everything and everybody I had ever loved.
Something inside me broke wide open and the fear and pain came flying out. My tears were hard and silent. The kind of cries an innocent girl makes when she’s been crushed in her soul.
I had been a naïve and sheltered seventeen-year-old schoolgirl when Granite McKay rescued me from my grandmother’s raggedy apartment on 136th Street, and took me and my brother Jimmy to his luxurious penthouse on Central Park West.
G might have been an old hustler, but he was top shelf all the way. Between his shiny new whips and imported tailor-made clothes, G was legendary and had absolute power on the streets of Harlem.
At the age of forty-six he had conquered a New York City Kingdom and he ruled it with a perfect balance of fear and respect. People on the streets had love for G. He knew exactly how to take care of the community and he was real generous when he wanted to be. G was real rich and he surrounded himself with nice things. He had turned me on to the finest stuff money could buy. When we moved to Central Park West, G hired two maids and a driver. He paid a stylist to do my hair, and a Swedish woman to massage my body and keep my skin soft just in case he felt like touching me.
But just because a man had money it didn’t mean he could put his thing down the right way. G was rich, but he was set in his ways too. I was just a delicious piece of eye candy to him, and the only thing he allowed me to do was sit up on a barstool and look good every night.
So while I liked what G was giving me, I wasn’t satisfied with the way he was giving it to me. G was like a big bucket of ice-cold water, and my young body was sizzling hot, burning straight on fire. A buster like him couldn’t help but want to splash on me and put out my flames.
So, yeah. I had been really stupid while I was busy thinking I was so smart, but if I’d had even a little bit of sense on the cap, I would have never let Granite McKay take me up on the G-Spot stage and announce to the world that I was his. I had felt so lucky for getting chosen by the King of Harlem! But let’s face it. If Lady Luck had really been on my side, she would’ve told me to break up out of the G-Spot and run for my life.
Read more
in
G-Spot 2: The Seven Deadly Sins
Pride: The 1st Deadly Sin
Visit NoireStore.com for audiobooks and Noire Street Elite tees and urban gear.
Sign up for my email contact list at bit.ly/noiresignup
Like my Facebook page at bit.ly/noirefanpage
Follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/AskNoire
See me on Instagram at instagram.com/AskNoire
Join Noire’s Bookclub on Facebook:
facebook.com/groups/theUETBookClub
Follow Reem Raw on Twitter @ReemRaw609, on Instagram at Rawmello609, and on SoundCloud.com/ReemRaw @ReemRaw609.
See more at:
AskNoire.com
NoireStore.com
AskNoire.blogspot.com
Now enjoy
Queen of Diamonds
from
Empire State of Mine$!
EMPIRE STATE OF MINE$!
An Urban Erotic Thriller
WARNING!
This here ain’t no romance,
It’s an Urban Erotic Thriller
The block is clickin, the plots get thickened
when dealing with straight-up killers!
This the city that never sleeps
The Zip ’em up crew always plays for keeps
Drugs and bosses, slugs and coffins,
lives get lost and pain is deep!
Home of the G’s and diamond thieves,
Where crooked police won’t let you breathe,
Where the money comes fast and they put you on blast
and the belly of the beast won’t let you leave!
A lot of shit goes down in this gunslingers town,
pay ya dues...no rules when they coming for ya crown!
Every borough is thorough and ya life’s on the line,
this is NYC, an Empire State of Mine$!
EMPIRE
STATE of MINE$!
(It’s A Movie in a Book)
Episode 2
Queen of Diamonds
A NOIRE & REEM RAW JOINT
There are eight million stories in the naked city of New York.
These five are all the way live.
“Niggas out in Queens put you dead in a box,
Dishin off rocks and taking over y’all blocks!”
CHAPTER 1
Murder on the Menu
Pitch blackness reigned over the projects as Slick put his clothes back on and sat on the edge of the rooftop. It was hot and he was sweating bullets from the intense workout he had just performed. As he stretched his muscles and cooled down all he could think about was airing out the hoe-ass niggas who had beaten and strangled poor Miss Taylor to death.
Slick leaned over the rooftop railing and looked down on the chaos being perpetrated on the crime-ridden streets below. He felt like punishing somebody. Fucking somebody u
p. Brutal-style. And the next nigga on deck was gonna catch a mean one.
He glanced over at the wood-meshed pens that held his carrier pigeons. His favorite bird Dinky had come in a minute ago with a job slip attached to her leg. And now another bird, Dolemite, had just brought him home the specifics to accompany their latest assignment. Slick grunted in disappointment as he read that shit. The details on this job were the same as they had been on the last few jobs that had come in. Sketchy as fuck to say the least.
Slick twirled the small piece of paper he’d taken off his bird between his fingers. For once he was glad the rules of the Zip ’em up Crew dictated that every single member had to vote on every single hit. He was a decisive soldier and he had no problem calling the shots, but he was leery about sending his crew out into a killing field with only the weak amount of info that had come in with this latest assignment.
And that right there was the meat of his problem. As a boss Slick knew a successful hit depended on scoping out all reliable information before they confronted the target. The more scenarios they could anticipate in advance, the higher the chance they had of completing the job with the entire crew coming out alive and in one piece.
Yeah, there would always be X factors that arose in every situation, but as professional assassins they tried to minimize the unknowns as much as possible.
Slick’s jaw tightened. He knew for a fact that them big-money cats over at Body Bags Unlimited didn’t give two shits about the safety of his team. The only thing them billionaire muthafuckas gave a fuck about was handling the mission promptly and precisely. Dead hit-men were small-shit collateral damage in the criminal underworld. They were just a small cost of doing business in the world of the gunslingers.
Slick was definitely feeling some type of way. But on the real, this shit wasn’t scientific. It was the murder bizz. Cut and dried. It was that ugly shit that they got paid very handsomely to do.
Slick watched the streets below and chilled as he waited for his crew to arrive. He had called for a meeting right after reading the message from the BBU. He’d forced himself to shake off the feeling of apprehension that gnawed at his stomach just from thinking about the assignment. Wasn’t no need in worrying though, because his squad was tight and they were ready for whatever. The Zip ’em up Crew was the most feared group of headhunters in the whole fuckin bizz. They had earned a reputation of being cold and calculating, and most of all, of being precise. They were trained, they were certified, and they were surgical with their shit. But above all else they were gunslingers, and once they agreed to accept a contract on your life, your ass was as good as gone.
$$$$$
Jewelz was the first one to show up on the rooftop. She had on an off-white summer dress that hit her at the thigh, and it was a stark and sexy contrast to her smooth chocolate skin.
“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked Slick softly. She was smelling good and looking perplexed in the face. “Damn, boy, we just had a meeting. Why you calling another one?”
“Yo,” he said walking towards her. “You know that old lady Miss Taylor who be cooking me them good-ass Sunday dinners all the time, right?”
Jewelz nodded. “Yeah, her fried whities and potato salad plates be on fleek.”
“Well some fuckin body got hold of her,” Slick said fuming quietly. “She’s dead.”
“Aw, damn!” A huge wave of sympathy washed over Jewelz’s face and Slick was comforted by the fact that there was somebody else in the world who could feel his pain. He would go down in a blaze of glory for any member of his set, but Jewelz was his heart and his soul. She was the only person in the entire world that he could lay his whole shit out there with, raw and raggedy. She was the only one who understood the tragedy of his history, and that’s because she was the only one who had shared it.
“Damn,” Jewelz muttered again and shook her head. “That poor old lady! I’m so sorry, Slick. I know how much you loved her. What happened? Heart attack?”
“Nah, she got strangled. Choked the fuck out.”
“What!?!” Jewelz shrieked. “Is you kidding me? Strangled? In this quiet-ass building?”
“The building ain’t so quiet no more, baby. These days niggas be running around here pissing on the stairs and wildin out on the porch at all times of the night. I think it was that nigga Handgun Goody who did it, yo,” Slick growled from deep in his chest. “I know it was that savage-ass bitch!”
Jewelz looked confused. “Goody? Why in the world would he wanna erase a sweet old lady?”
“It was retaliation,” Slick said quietly. “I told you I had to dirt nap some of his lil homies. I cold snuffed them bitch-niggas out. And Miss Taylor was his payback.”
“Hold up,” Jewelz was still confused. “Does Goody know it was you who did his crew?”
Slick shook his head. “I doubt it. Them cats woulda set my grandmother’s crib on fire by now if they thought I had something to do with it. Nah, that dope-slangin nigga don’t know who it was. Everybody sleeps on Sometimey. Don’t none of them niggas have the kind of eyes it takes to see me coming at ’em.”
“So why do you think Miss Taylor’s murder was specifically about you then?” Jewelz didn’t sound convinced.
“It was about whoever slumped his lil mutts! Goody don’t know exactly who to go gunning for, but he knows something popped off right here in this fuckin building!”
“Damn, baby,” Jewelz said, stepping up close to him, “I’m sorry Miss Taylor is dead and I hope she didn’t suffer too much.”
Slick opened his arms and welcomed her warm, comforting touch. Her plump titties grazed his chest and her hands touched his thighs. Slick was seeking comfort but Jewelz was seeking something else. And what she wanted was giving him major wood.
Standing there under the glow of moonlight Jewelz pressed her cheek against Slick’s hard chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. His body was still revved up from his workout and heat was coming off him in waves. And heat was coming off Jewelz’s body too.
Slick struggled inside. He was turned the fuck on by this girl even though he didn’t wanna be. He wanted her so fuckin bad, even though he didn’t wanna want her! He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Jewel opened up to him like a sweet blossoming rose. Her mouth was watering and her groin was pressing against his wood. Slick gripped her juicy ass-cheeks in his palms and grinded his hard dick up against her. He was reaching deeply between her mounds to get a swipe of that hot pussy when the door opened on the roof and Whitey stepped into view.
Slick broke the embrace. He reached down and grasped Jewelz’s arms. Her skin felt hotter than an oven. He took a deep breath and stepped backward. Outta range of that desperate desire in her that he just couldn’t bring himself to satisfy.
“Yo whattup, Whitey,” Slick greeted his manz as he turned away for a second so he could adjust his bulging meat. He walked away without looking back because he knew exactly what he was gonna see in Jewelz’s eyes. Feelings.
Minutes later the entire posse was fully assembled on the rooftop. They exchanged greetings and showed each other mad love. Then Slick pulled out his assignment scrap and laid the cards out on the table.
“We got another job,” he said quietly. “Y’all already know the drill. We need to decide if we’re gonna make a move on this shit or not.”
He grilled his crew one by one.
“We got a mission to eliminate somebody called the Queen of Diamonds. We need to strike at three a.m. and the location will be a beauty parlor somewhere in Jamaica, Queens,” Slick explained. “We don’t have a visual description of her or nothing, but according to the BBU she’ll be easy to spot because she’ll be the only chick getting her hair done in the middle of the night.”
Right on cue Wild Man bucked.
“Damn, here we go again! Yo, what’s up with all this stupid shit? No pictures, no description, no real name, no details—if them BBU muthafuckas want us to erase somebody why don’t they just tell us exactly who it is?
”
Slick just shrugged. He didn’t blame his homey for going hard, but there wasn’t shit else he could tell him.
“So whattup, Slick?” Wild Man kept right on basing. “Them uppity clowns want us to go in ass-naked again and expose our throats like a bunch of blind mice, right?”
“Ay, I’m just delivering the message,” Slick said calmly. “I’m giving you the same information the fuckin bird gave me.”
Wild Man was still on one. “Nah, I’m itchin to make that paper just like the next muh’fucka but these BBU hits is starting to sound like suicide missions! Fuck that. Ain’t none of us hurting that bad for cash that we gotta go for this one, dawg. By the way, what’s the price tag on this Queen of Diamond’s crown?”
“The same as it was on the last job,” Slick answered. “Double the regular the pay.”
Wild Man, Jewelz, and Noodles all shot each other a look. They were all about clockin that extra doe but they weren’t completely sold on the job just yet.
“Nah, fuck that,” Wild Man shook his head. “The hit is in Queens, right? So that’s my territory and it makes me the lead man on the case. Them BBU niggas can suck my dick!”