The Pussy Trap 2

by Nene Capri

  “Your boss must be a bitch. He sent all y’all out here for little ol’ me? Sheeit, you had a better chance at running up in a gay bar bent over with KY in your ass and not getting fucked than you had at hitting me.” She stood up and spit on him. “Who sent you?” she asked.

  “Fuck you, bitch. I ain’t telling you nothing!” he yelled out in apparent pain.

  “Is that right? We’ll see about that.”

  “Just kill me ‘cause I ain’t got shit for you.”

  “That might be true. You probably don’t got shit to say. But I bet you on your mother, father, any siblings, your bitch, and your kids’ grave, that you’ll be singing like a fucking canary by the end of the night.”

  KoKo could hear the faint sound of sirens in the background. KoKo turned to her crew and gave her orders, “Hurry up and get this muthafucka outta here. Take him where you got to take him and do what you got to do, and don’t stop until I get back to you.”

  They dragged his ass around the corner and were gone. Chico stayed with KoKo as they headed to her car, and then Goldie came running up to her.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  KoKo snapped. “Your concern is inside, not outside.” She gave her the look of death. That was the first time she had seen KoKo’s full dark side.

  Goldie looked down and saw blood on KoKo’s shirt. Goldie wanted to say something else, but turned and walked back inside.

  “Go grab the tapes from the camera and spread some money around the crowd because none of those muthafuckas saw shit. Get rid of my shit and I’ll call you.”

  KoKo limped over to her car, went into her trunk and grabbed her boots. She put them on, and then looked at her side. The gaping wound was bleeding profusely. She snatched up the towel she normally used to wipe off her car and pressed it against her injury. Then she got a jacket and put it on. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the gunshot wound throbbed and ached with an intense burning.

  “KoKo, let me take you where you need to go,” Chico said, wearing a worried look and trying to persuade her once more. Just then, a light rain began to fall.

  “Do what I told you.” KoKo tossed him her keys and limped off. Just as she hit the corner, the police were all over the scene. Chico threw the keys to one of the bouncers, and he jumped in her car and drove off. Thank God the niggas in the truck had tried to back out of the street in reverse, blocking the cops from getting too close, giving Chico time to regroup. Chico turned to say one more thing to KoKo, but she was gone. He sent D-Rod inside to instruct Ralphie to erase and alter the surveillance equipment. One of the other bouncers subtly passed out hundreds as they let people in the club.

  “You ain’t see shit, right?” D-Rod asked each patron. All he heard was, “Hell no.” and “What was there to see?”

  After the cops roped off and assessed the immediate scene, they walked down to the club to see if there were any witnesses, but no one was talking. They then turned their questions to Chico.

  Chico said, “I don’t really know what happened, officer. The truck pulled up and the driver was talking to some guys in a black Honda, and then they started to exchange fire. At that point, I just had all our customers get down on the ground.”

  “Does your establishment have cameras?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Can we see them?”

  “Sure. Let me get the manager so she can take you to the office.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Shit. We just want our patrons to be safe.”

  Thank God KoKo had everything covered. Her computer technician, Ralphie, whom she brought down to the ‘A’ from Jersey, had set up fake ass loops with different cars and people specifically for the cameras just in case shit like this ever happened.

  When KoKo had gotten around the corner, she hailed a cab and jumped in. “Take me to Buckhead.” Once she sat down, she had a chance to get a better look at her injury. It was still bleeding and appeared to need a couple stitches. Her wound hurt like a muthafucka, but she applied pressure to it and tried to relax. The rain dripped softly at first, but thirty seconds later, the rain violently began to pour. Relief consumed KoKo for the moment. What little evidence that remained at the scene would begin washing away. As they approached their destination, KoKo reached in her bra and pulled out ten one-hundred dollar bills. “You never saw me, right?” she affirmed to the cabbie.

  “I’m on my way to the airport to drop off a tall white kid with a black hoodie and blue jeans.” He picked up his radio and called it in.

  “Roger that 0479,” came back across the radio.

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “Hell yeah. But if you run your mouth you won’t be 0479,” she said, reaching over and grabbing the door handle with her sleeve and proceeded out. She headed down the street and the familiar dizzy feeling started to come over her. She held her side with one hand and the Carbine in the other. It took the last of her energy to make it down the street and around the corner.

  *****

  At 2 a.m. the cleansing rain fell hard as hell. Rock had just gotten out the shower and put on his silk pajama pants. He went into the living room and poured himself a drink. Grabbing the remote, he turned on his 62-inch plasma flat screen to ESPN to catch the sports highlights. He wanted to just relax, but he couldn’t shake the conversation he had with KoKo, and the fact that she had his head all fucked up and hadn’t even given him any pussy yet.

  All he could think was, what is it about this woman that’s got me so hazy? He sat for about thirty minutes sipping his drink and watching TV. Then he stood up and hit the remote and was heading to his room when his doorbell rang. He turned to look at the wall clock and said, “Who the fuck could be ringing my shit at this hour? It better be important as hell.” When he got to the door, his eyes popped open. “What the fuck?”

  KoKo stood there drenched from head to toe. Her hair was stringy and she looked a mess. Then he saw the Carbine 15 in her right hand. That threw him all the way off.

  KoKo looked him in the eyes and said, “Nigga, if it was your day, all that shit you tossing around in your head would be a one-on-one with God.” She always blew his mind with the shit she said, so he just looked at her like she was crazy. KoKo had no more strength left to fight, so she said in a calm voice, “Can you let a sistah in?”

  Rock looked at her other hand at her side and saw blood dripping from it, so he reached out for her just as she went to one knee. He quickly grabbed her, and as she fell into his arms he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. Rock placed her in the tub, looked her over and then he ran and got his cell phone. He made sure the door was locked and peeked out the blinds to make sure no one was following her.

  “Yo, Sandra, you up?”

  “Yeah. Why? What’s good?”

  “Go get me a milkshake and some fries. I’m hungry as hell and hurry up.” That was his code for a gunshot victim.

  “All right, I’ll be right over.” Sandra was a nurse who had been his friend for years. She had everything needed for all occasions.

  Rock went back in the bathroom and started to undress KoKo so he could see what they were working with. The bullet had gone right through the flesh of her side. It was nothing a few stitches wouldn’t help. He started washing off the blood and putting her clothes in a bag. He stood for a minute, staring at her perfect body. When he looked at her shoulder, he saw a black panther tattooed there with a yellow collar with diamonds on it. Underneath the panther, the word ‘Trappin’’ was written. He smiled and thought, damn, if it’s like that, do I want any?

  Within thirty minutes, Sandra was ringing the bell with a bag of fries and a milkshake in one hand and her backpack in the other. Rock let her in, locked the door, and again checked the window. He took her to the bathroom, where KoKo lay in the tub knocked completely out. She quickly checked her vitals, rinsed the area, and then put a shot of Demerol in her arm. KoKo turned her head, mumbling incoherently before passing out agai
n. Sandra hit the area with a local anesthesia. As KoKo was numbing up, she gave her an IV of antibiotics and fluids, and began stitching the wound. She wrapped her with a bandage, and then they cleaned up everything and put it in the bag with KoKo’s clothes.

  Rock made sure nothing was in her pockets. He told Sandra to dispose of them the regular way. As Sandra packed up her stuff and got some pain medication together for her, Rock ran some water so he could clean her up. Carefully he ran the cloth over her silky skin.Then he got a towel and carried her to the guest bedroom. He put his robe on her and laid her down and covered her up.

  As Rock stood over her, he thought, What is this woman into? And how the fuck did she know where I live? Rock saw Sandra to the door.

  The next morning . . .

  When KoKo woke up, she felt groggy as hell. Her eyes were blurry and the white in the room had her confused as to where she was. Then she heard the familiar voice. “How do you feel?” Rock asked from the chair in the corner of the room.

  KoKo adjusted her eyes and looked toward the voice. Then she remembered where she ended up last night. She looked at her arm and saw two bags leading to her veins.

  “Where did you take me?” she finally spoke with slurred speech.

  “Nowhere. This is my guest room. How do you feel?”

  “Fucked up.”

  “My people hooked you up. She will be over in a little while to check on you.” Rock said, as he got up and headed to the bed.

  KoKo tried to sit up, but her head was pounding so she lay back down.

  “You came in here shot. Do you remember what happened to you?” Rock asked calmly.

  The question immediately brought everything back. Then the flash of the girl in the club with the tattoo on her foot ran across her mind. It matched the tattoo of the guy who came to her car door with the gun sported, except his was between his first finger and thumb.

  “KoKo, you a’ight?” Rock said, concerned because she had dazed out for a minute.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I need a phone and an ounce of weed.”

  “Weed? You have pain killers over there and a phone right next to you.”

  “Nah, I need a burner. And I don’t do pain killers.”

  “You smoke weed, but you don’t take pain killers? Okay,” he said in a sarcastic voice.

  KoKo just looked at him. “What time are your people coming? I got some shit to do?”

  “She will be here soon enough. However, I don’t recommend you go anywhere. You need to get some rest.”

  KoKo got the strength to sit up and then put her legs off the side of the bed.

  “Where are you going?” Rock said as he reached for her arm.

  “I have to use the bathroom. Is that legal?”

  “Yeah, it’s legal.” Rock chuckled.

  “Well, can you help me up?” KoKo looked at him like ‘make yourself useful.’

  Rock stood up and grabbed her arm and the IV bags. He helped her to the bathroom.

  Once inside, she closed the door but held the empty bags while she handled her business. While washing her hands in the sink, she realized she didn’t have on any underwear or her bra. “This nigga undressed me. Damn, I must have been out,” she said aloud as she began to put her plan together. She needed to get with her boys concerning all of the about-to-be-dead muthafuckas who had anything to do with that attack.

  After KoKo hooked up her breath and washed her face, she fingered through her hair and then twisted it into a bun. With IV bag in hand, she limped to the door and opened it.

  Rock stood waiting with a pre-pay phone that he handed her. He then helped her to the bed.

  “I’m about to call my people to take out that IV. I’ll be right back.” He walked out the room.

  KoKo looked at the nightstand, grabbed her two-way, and opened the back and pulled out an extra sim card she kept hidden in there. She placed it in the pre-pay, made a few quick calls, and snatched the sim card out. After putting everything back together, she began preparing to leave. She had been out long enough.

  Rock came back in the room, telling her, “She’s on her way.”

  “Good deal. I need something to put on. And what about my smoke?”

  “I got you. Why don’t you stay and let me take care of you?”

  KoKo smiled and said, “You are so sweet. That’s why I came here. I knew you would handle me, but I got some shit to do. I promise you when I get straight I’m going to hook you up real good.”

  Rock stared at this sexy woman who was a big ass mystery to him. Then she did what he had been waiting for. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and kissed him lightly on his lips.

  “What are you doing to me? You got me fucked up.”

  KoKo looked into his eyes and said, “Like I said, I’m going to hook you up. I owe you, and I always make good on my promises. Trust me, it will be worth the wait.”

  ”That’s what I’m afraid of,” Rock said, releasing a chuckle.

  The doorbell rang just in time. It was Sandra. He left KoKo in the room and let her in. When Sandra walked in the room and looked at the way Rock attended to KoKo, she became very jealous. She had never had to help him with a female before, and the fact that it appeared that he was feeling her, put Sandra in a bad mood. She walked over to her and removed KoKo’s IV and checked and changed her bandages. Once done, she passed KoKo a Prada sweatsuit, a bra, panties, and a pair of sneakers along with the weed and a blunt. KoKo looked at the clothes and turned up her nose. She dropped the robe right in front of them, popped the tags and put the clothes on.

  “We would have left out and gave you some privacy,” Sandra said, trying to make light of the situation as she packed her things back in the bag.

  KoKo turned and said, “For what? You got a pussy, and if he ain’t seen one by now then something is wrong.” She went to the nightstand, grabbed her money, and put it in her pocket. She sat on the bed and quickly rolled a blunt and then took it to the head. Rock and Sandra just stood there looking at her.

  KoKo picked up the pre-pay and called a cab. Then she turned to Rock, who was still trying to recover from her last statement. “Thank you so much, baby. Believe me when I tell you I got you. Sheeit . . .You betta be glad a bitch came up in here fucked up, or you’d be laid out sucking your thumb right about now.”

  “You got jokes.”

  She limped over to him and kissed his lips again. At the same time, she took some money out her pocket and passed it to Sandra. “I appreciate your help.”

  Sandra looked at her and then at Rock. “You don’t have to pay me. Rock will handle me,” she stated dryly.

  Rock looked at Sandra with a wrinkled brow because he wasn’t used to her catching feelings. KoKo chuckled as she looked into Rock’s eyes and said, “Hook her up real good, so I can have even more to thank you for.” Seeing that old girl was catching feelings, KoKo gave her a reason to really be upset, and allowed her hand to roam up and down Rock’s semi-hard dick. She ran the tip of her tongue between his lips.

  Rock enjoyed the two ladies’ little fight over him.

  KoKo pulled him to her, placing his dick right at the base of her pussy and said,

  “Yo, Sandra. You got anything in that bag for swelling?”

  Rock shook his head and smiled. Sandra frowned as she continued to pack her bag.

  “Can I have my steel?”

  “Anytime you want it,” he responded.

  “I know that, but I need the bitch I walked in here with. I’m going to bust yours off later.”

  Rock went to the closet, got the bag with her gun in it, and handed it to her. They heard the cab blowing the horn.

  “Walk me to the door.” They left out the room as she yelled, “Bye, Sandra.”

  -31-

  Interrogation

  “Who sent you, muthafucka?” Night yelled and smacked Junior with his gun. Blood spurted out his mouth. He was fucked up and exhausted and on the brink of giving up everybody. The crew had been giving him a severe
ass whipping for over eight hours. After KoKo got shot, her crew began putting extreme pressure on the ‘A’ for answers. Junior’s name went to the top of the list.

  On his knees with his hands tied behind his back, he lifted his head. With his right eye slightly open, he saw KoKo trailed by three guys coming toward him.

  “He talking yet?” she asked.

  “Nah, this nigga holding strong,” Night responded.

  KoKo pulled out her gun, rested it at her side, and then shot him in the shoulder. His screams filled the room. KoKo pulled a bottle of gin from her back pocket, took a swig, and then poured it on his wound.

  “Ahhhhh!” Junior yelled out again as the pain coursed through his body.

  “You feel like talking now?”

  “Fuck you, bitch!” he barked as he leaned over in pain.

  “I figured you’d say that.” She smiled and then waved her hand at Savage.

  He left and brought back a hooded female. Savage snatched the hood off the woman and pushed her to the ground.

  Junior’s eyes widened when he saw his wife lying at KoKo’s feet. Junior swallowed his spit and raised his head with a grimace on his face. “I don’t give a fuck about her or you,” he growled,

  Tears streamed down his wife’s face as she began to weep hysterically. KoKo smiled and said, “Chucky, let me get part two.” Chucky left and returned with a small boy and brought him to KoKo.

  She rested her hand with the gun on his shoulder.

  Junior put his head down and shook it from side to side. Tears ran down his face.

  “Noooo . . .” his wife made a bone-chilling scream at the sight of the gun now resting against her son’s chest. She glared at Junior with hatred in her eyes. “You tell them, you sorry son-of-a bitch!” she bellowed.’

  Junior kept his head down as he heard his son’ cry. “I don’t want to die,” the small boy whimpered as he looked at his dad.