by Dorian Sykes
Trey stepped back in the room and handed Jason his eight stones.
“Don’t forget me,” said Krazy as he opened the door for Jason. He flicked his tongue again at the woman, to which she covered her face to conceal her blushing.
“I’m tellin’ you, my nigga. We got that bitch,” said Krazy as he locked the door.
“What he say? He gon’ hook it up?” asked Trey.
“Yeah. I’m tellin’ you. You ain’t had no head until you get some dome from one of these snow bunnies while they high off that shit. It’s like they be in another world, just them and yo’ dick.”
“I ain’t fuckin’ with you.” Trey laughed.
“She look like she got that lockjaw, too,” said Krazy as he continued to fantasize about ole girl. He flopped down on the sofa and flicked through the channels, looking for something good to watch.
“Leave it right there,” Trey said.
“You see how them Mexican mothafuckas gettin’ money. That’s how we should be doin’ it,” said Krazy. It was a documentary about the Mexican Mafia out in California.
“Word,” Trey agreed as he pretended he was standing right next to the short, fat Mexican who seemed to be running shit.
“That can be us,” said Krazy.
They rolled up two joints and kicked back, each lost in la-la land, fantasizing about a life of luxury. Krazy thought about all the pink toes he could afford with that kind of money, while Trey plotted on a new Beamer. Slowly but surely, Trey was falling in love with the game. J-Bo knew a week of seeing that out of town money would have all they young asses turned out. It’s what the game did to him.
Chapter Eight
Four days had gone by since Jason told Krazy he’d hook him up with pink toes. Every time Jason would come cop, Krazy would be pressing the shit out of him about ole girl. Finally, he just chalked up that she wasn’t gon’ show. He kept quoting some old pimp line he heard back in Detroit to Trey, who was tired of hearing it.
“I know, I know. Ain’t but two things you never seen before: a UFO and a hoe that won’t go.” Trey took the words out of Krazy’s mouth.
“You damn right,” said Krazy as he got up and started pacing the floor. The small-ass room was closing in on him. The shit was boring as a mothafucka, and a nigga with as much energy as Krazy needed some type of action. Selling crack to crackers all day didn’t constitute action for him.
“Who is it?” he shouted as someone knocked on the door.
“Mandy,” a soft white woman’s voice said.
Krazy rushed over to the door and snatched it open. It was ole girl who he’d been sweating the hell out of Jason about.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” asked Mandy.
“My bad. Yeah, come on in.” Krazy snapped out of his brief daze. He was lost in the young woman’s curves. She wore next to nothing. Her outfit consisted of a wife-beater, Daisy-Duke shorts, and some thong flip-flops.
“Yeah, come on in,” Krazy said with a bit of rhythm. He quickly locked up the door, then joined pink toes on the sofa.
“What you say your name was?” asked Krazy.
“Mandy.”
“Well, I’m Krazy, and this is my boy, Trey.”
Krazy was all up close and personal with Mandy. He stretched his arm around her back and leaned toward her so he could get a full view of her perfect titties. His eyes traveled down to somewhere between her thighs.
“So, um,” Krazy began. He concentrated on Mandy’s camel toe between her legs. “What’s up? Did Jason holla at you?”
“Yeah. I would have came days ago, but my old man took a few days off work. But here I am.”
“Yes, you are,” said Krazy.
Trey pulled beside Mandy, and together he and Krazy took turns getting her ready.
“So, I’m sayin’. You gon’ do that for me, or what?” Trey whispered into her ear.
“I guess so. But can I have something to get me started? I’m a lot better when I’m rolling,” said Mandy.
Hearing her talk like that made both Krazy’s and Trey’s dicks hard. Krazy leaped from the sofa and ran inside the bathroom. He tapped on the toilet pipe, then slid the ceiling back.
“What’s up?” asked Willie as he bent down next to the hole.
“I need one,” said Krazy.
“A’ight. Where’s the money?”
“Nigga, just give me one. We got this little freak bitch down here. Me and Trey ’bout to bust her head.”
“I’m on my way down,” said Willie.
“Nah, you gon’ fuck the move up. Plus, I don’t want Wink ass to know, ’cause he gon’ be trippin’ ’bout the money. Just give me the stone.”
“A’ight, but tomorrow we switchin’ out. I’m tired of sittin’ up here all day,” said Willie. He passed Krazy a rock, then closed the hole up.
“Who was that?” Wink asked from the bathroom door.
“Krazy. He wanted to know if he could do a deal for eighty. I told him no shorts, no losses.”
“How much more work we gotta sell?” asked Willie as he followed Wink back into the living room.
“By the looks of it, we should be finished by tomorrow morning. So, we’ll be done a day early. Unless J-Bo shoots us down some more work.”
Back downstairs, Krazy and Trey had Mandy’s thick white ass in the buck. She had hit her pipe and was on cloud nine. She sucked Trey’s dick like a porn star would. She had her eyes closed and held it delicately with two fingers. She would deep throat his entire dick, then pull it out and lick around the head. All the while, Krazy’s freaky-zeaky ass was drilling her from the back. He was the only one ass naked. He took everything off except his long white tube socks, the ones with the green stripes at the top.
Suddenly, there was a loud pound on the door. The pounding grew louder with each thrust. Whoever it was sure wasn’t leaving. The noise was messing up both Krazy’s and Trey’s concentration.
“Man, who is it?” yelled Krazy as he slid out of the pussy.
“Mandy, get your cunt out here now! You little whore, I know you’re in there.”
Mandy snapped out of her crack state of mind. She held Trey’s stiff dick in her hand while looking back from the sofa at the door.
“That’s my husband,” she whispered.
“I don’t give a fuck if he was yo’ daddy. His ass betta stop pounding on the door,” said Krazy as he slid into his boxers.
“Yeah, he’s making shit hot,” said Trey.
“Mandy, I know you hear me. Get your ass out here now!” The man’s shadow could be seen from behind the curtain as he tried to peek inside the room.
“He’ll leave. But please don’t open the door,” said Mandy. She was in fear of an ultimate beat down.
“Go hide in the bathroom while I get rid of him,” said Krazy. He waited as Mandy scooped her clothes up and scurried toward the bathroom.
Trey decided he would finish getting his dick sucked in the meantime. He grabbed up his clothes, then followed Mandy in the bathroom.
Krazy snatched the door open wildly. He was standing face to face with a huge, thick-neck cracker who weighed every bit of three hundred pounds. He looked up at the muscle-faced cracker and put his murda mask on, even despite only wearing his boxers, tube socks, and Nike Cortez.
“Where is she?” asked the man as he looked over Krazy’s shoulder in attempt to scan the room.
“Where’s who?” asked Krazy.
“Mandy, my fuckin’ wife!”
“Listen, ole boy, I don’t know who the hell you’re talkin’ about, but ain’t no Mandy here.”
“Oh, no? Then why are her panties on the sofa?” asked the man.
Before Krazy could turn to look, the cock-strong cracker lowered his head and bull-rushed him back into the room. The blow of the man’s head knocked the wind out of Krazy. He stumbled backward and crashed into the center of the coffee table.
“Mandy, you bitch! Get your ass out here now. I know you in here, ’cause I can smell ya!” shout
ed the man.
Krazy came to his senses. He groaned as he rolled off the shattered table.
“Robert, I can explain,” Mandy pleaded, as she inched her way out of the bathroom, half naked.
“Oh, you bet your ass you got some explaining to do. You can tell the good Lord all about it when you see him, ’cause I’m about to kill your ass.” Robert spread his arms wide as he closed in on Mandy, cornering her in the front room.
“Please, Robert,” pleaded Mandy as she closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact of Robert’s bear claw.
Boom! Boom!
Robert’s heavy frame crashed forward, hitting the floor hard. He grunted and squirmed in pain from the two back shots. Trey and Mandy looked up at Krazy, who had his gun pointed at Robert’s head.
“Ahh!” screamed Mandy at the top of her lungs. She knelt down to tend to Robert.
“You didn’t have to shoot him!” she yelled while cradling Robert in her arms. “Baby, I am so sorry. Please get up. Please,” she begged her husband. All Robert could do was groan in agony from the two .25 shells lodged in his spine.
Trey’s eyes were bucked with fear. He hurriedly rushed over to Krazy and grabbed his arm, lowering the gun to his side.
“Dawg, what you trippin’ off of?” asked Trey.
The phone started ringing. Trey grabbed the gun from Krazy, then rushed over to the phone. He snatched the receiver up to his ear. “What up?”
“That’s y’all down there?” asked Wink.
“You need to get down here, like now,” said Trey.
Wink jumped from the sofa and slid into his shoes. Willie was awaiting the news.
“So, what happened?” asked Willie, his eyes bucked with fear and anticipation.
“I don’t know, but we ’bouts to find out,” said Wink. He stood up and snatched the room door open. As he stepped out onto the landing, he saw a Davenport police car pulling into the motel’s parking lot. Wink pushed Willie back inside the room, backstepping all the while, not taking his eyes off the police.
Wink peeked from behind the curtain. Two white officers were standing outside their squad car, talking to some old white woman. She talked with her hands and pointed in the direction of the room. The two officers looked directly at the room, then thanked the woman.
“What they doing?” whispered Willie.
One of the cops spoke into his shoulder radio.
“I think they just called for backup,” said Wink. He raced over to the phone and called downstairs. “Don’t look out the window, but there’s two police outside,” Wink told Trey.
“Four. Two more just pulled up,” advised Willie as he took Wink’s place at the curtain.
“What the fuck happened down there?” demanded Wink.
“Hold on. They’re pounding on the door. What should we do?” asked Trey. His heart was racing a million miles per hour.
Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, Mandy screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help! He shot my husband!”
Wink could hear the ruckus downstairs as the front door crashed in. “Police! Get down on the ground!” was the last thing Wink heard before he dropped the phone.
“Grab the work and let’s go,” ordered Wink as he snatched up all the money off the bed. “Let’s go!” he yelled, running for the bathroom.
He didn’t have to tell Willie. He was so scared that he almost beat him there. Wink slid back the stained window next to the shower and looked down into the alley. He didn’t see any cop cars or anything out of the norm, so he tossed the rope down.
“You get everything?” he asked.
“Yeah,” answered Willie in a nervous tone.
Wink gripped the rope around his hands, then climbed out the window. He scaled down to the alley, then shouted up for Willie. “Come on, Will.” Wink looked from right to left at both ends of the alley, then back up at Willie, who was struggling to climb down. Wink could hear the crackling of police radios coming from inside Trey and Krazy’s room.
“You ’bout halfway. Jump, my nigga,” said Wink.
More police sirens could be heard in the nearing distance, as well as an ambulance.
“Jump,” ordered Wink.
Willie closed his eyes and let go of the rope. He met the pavement hard, almost twisting his ankle. But Wink didn’t give him time enough to complain about the pain. He grabbed Willie by the arm and dragged him down the alley.
“Can we slow down?” asked Willie. He was gassed out and ready to collapse.
“We’re almost there,” said Wink, not letting Willie’s feet stop moving. “Come on, my nigga. You can make it.”
Wink slowed down just a little bit after looking over his shoulder and saw that no one was chasing them. They crossed the alley, reaching the Denny’s J-Bo had told him about. Wink raced for the phone booth, sitting dead center of the parking lot.
Willie held himself up on the glass, trying to catch his breath, while Wink slid inside the booth. Wink’s stomach sank to his ass when J-Bo answered the phone. He had to tell him that he had failed once again.
“Bo, it’s me, Wink.”
“You callin’ me. I hope everything straight out there,” said J-Bo.
“Nah, it’s not. Something happened downstairs, and the police just ran down on Trey and Krazy.”
“So, where are you at?”
“I’m at the Denny’s, me and Willie.”
“You get everything?” asked J-Bo. That was his only concern.
“Yeah. So, what you want us to do?” Wink asked as he looked around the parking lot.
“Stay at Denny’s. I’m sending Gator to get y’all,” said J-Bo, then hung up.
Wink looked at the phone, then placed it on the hook and stepped out of the booth.
“What he say?” asked Willie.
“He said to wait here, that he’s sending Gator to get us.” Wink looked around and felt out of place. “Come on. Let’s go inside and get something to eat while we wait.”
“What about Krazy and Trey?” asked Willie as he followed behind Wink.
“We got away and they didn’t. They just gotta sit tight until we can figure something out.”
Chapter Nine
J-Bo was waiting at the spot on Linwood when Wink and Willie got back. He stood at the top step with his short arms folded, disgust written all over his face. Wink regretted each step up. All he could do when he reached J-Bo at the landing was drop his head.
“Don’t put the puppy-pound faces on now. That shit’s spilled milk, but y’all gon’ clean it up. Come on in here,” ordered J-Bo. He walked them into the living room, then gave Gator his crack for making the trip.
Wink and Willie sat on the sofa with their eyes glued to the floor. Both their hearts were thumping and ready to burst out their chests. J-Bo locked the door behind Gator, then returned to the living room. His demeanor seemed to change at the sight of the crack and money set out on the table. J-Bo had been in the game so long that he could eyeball a stack of money and tell if it was short. Judging from the crack and the money, he could tell that wasn’t much missing. But he still wasn’t going to let them off easily.
“I sent y’all outta town so y’all could get a taste of some real money. Introduce y’all to some new thangs, and what do you do? Fuck it up,” said J-Bo.
“All the money’s there. We only had a little work left over,” said Wink.
“That’s beside the point. Y’all fucked that cake bake up. I been going out to Davenport since ’85, and I ain’t never been ran down on. Y’all wasn’t even out there a week and got the town hot as a pistol. Now it’s gon’ be a minute before I can send some work up there again.” J-Bo picked up the money and began separating his from theirs.
“I told y’all I was gon’ kick ten grand down, minus the twenty-three hundred you already owe. But seeing as though y’all left two days early and fucked my cake bake up, I’ma tax that ass.”
J-Bo handed Wink three thousand dollars, all hundreds. He folded the
rest and put it in his pocket. “And you might wanna take that three grand and see about ya guys. They down in Davenport County Jail,” said J-Bo.
“For what?” asked Wink.
“Attempted murder. I had my lawyer do some calling around, and he says that they shot some white dude in the back. Something about his wife.”
“What’s their bond?” asked Willie.
“They ain’t seen a judge yet, but I can tell you it won’t be no three grand.”
“’Bout how much?” asked Wink.
“At least a hundred grand. In a little town like Davenport, they’re going to want two houses, a cat, and a dog.”
“So, what are you going to do?” asked Willie.
“I’ma do what I been doing. That’s on y’all to figure out. I didn’t tell them niggas to shoot nobody. Shit, I didn’t even know y’all had a gun.”
Wink thought, Me neither.
“So, you’re just going to leave ’em in jail and not do nothin’ for em’? snapped Willie.
“Not one of them niggas is worth a hundred thousand to me. So far, y’all ain’t did nothin’ except fuck up. When you play the game, you gotta have shit in order. Lawyer money, bail money, and more money for when you get out so you can bounce back and get on your feet. I’m not about to go all in for them two niggas,” said J-Bo. He wasn’t holding no cut cards. He was just keeping it real.
“Y’all wanted to play this game, remember? Question is, are you done, or are you gon’ dust yaself off and get back in the game?” J-Bo knew that they were in too deep to quit. Plus, he knew Wink was just like him when he first came into the game—hungry and hardheaded.
“What about a lawyer?” asked Wink.
“What about one?”
“Can’t you at least send your lawyer to see them?”
“That’s my lawyer. But I’m sure he’ll accept a retainer. Give me that three grand back, and I’ll have him go down and see what he can do.”
Wink reluctantly passed J-Bo the money—the very money he and his crew were supposed to be laughing over and high-fiving as they broke bread.