Heist
Page 4
“Dayum, it’s like that?” I said, opening my eyes wide.
“For real, for real. This nigga Bobby Knight is a thorough dude. That’s why this shit is gonna have to be done from a trust standpoint, and Bobby don’t trust many niggas. But bitches, especially grade A beauties, now that’s his weakness. I have seen him bring bitches to his home after a first date when he knew absolutely nothing about them. He got a bad weakness for pretty women. I’m telling you, your wife got what it takes to get that nigga’s eye,” Dray said with extra emphasis on Shannon having what it took. “After she gets inside, she can map out the house and assemble a team to get it done. But it gotta be thorough, with cats you can trust,” he continued.
I was all ears, but I still didn’t know if I wanted to send Shannon out there as fucking bait. Dray was right about one thing—this shit was gonna have to be planned out like some Ocean’s Eleven shit. It wasn’t gonna be no regular fucking stickup-type robbery; it was going to be a heist!
Shannon
I simply hated visiting Todd in jail. I hated seeing him locked up like that. This ride-or-die shit was played the fuck out too. I had done it for so long. Nonetheless, I prepared for our weekly visit. I put on a hot little Dolce & Gabbana jean skirt that I hadn’t sold off and a pair of Gucci stilettos that I had left. I knew no matter what, Todd was gonna need to get a quickie between the vending machines, so the skirt was a must.
After the whole jail search bullshit—you know, open your mouth, let me feel under your bra straps, take off your shoes, open your bag—I was finally allowed behind the heavy iron gates to the visiting room.
It was packed as usual. The smell of chicken, shitty diapers, and old plastic made me want to throw up. I looked around at all of the loyal women who had come to do the same thing as me—visit the nigga who was taking care of them but had left them high and dry. I could feel niggas and bitches alike staring at me. I knew my outfit had caught more than a couple of eyes. I sat down at one of those fucking Romper Room tables—I mean, really, did they think inmates and their visitors really wanted to be at those little-ass tables and sit on those little-ass colorful chairs? Anyway, I saw when they brought Todd in.
I immediately smiled at him as he bopped over to me. He hadn’t lost his swagger one bit, and he was looking very fucking ripped, which immediately made my pussy wet. Todd stood six feet two inches, and he had always had a washboard stomach and muscular arms. But since he had been locked up, his arm muscles seemed to have grown by a couple of inches, and his washboard was now a fucking twelve-pack. He licked his thick lips, and I noticed my baby still had his low-cut waves spinning on his head. People always told Todd that he looked like LL Cool J, shit I thought he looked way better than that—same complexion and eye shape maybe, but Todd’s face was much finer than LL’s.
Before he could even make it all the way to the table, I jumped up and grabbed him around the neck tightly. I hugged him so hard and kissed him ferociously. I held on to my husband so hard the CO had to come between us and break it up. You know they didn’t allow all that contact just in case I was trying to pass him contraband.
We finally let go of each other and sat down across from each other at the table. I immediately slipped my foot out of my sandal and secretly placed my foot between Todd’s legs. I could feel his dick flexing on my foot, and that shit was driving me wild. I held on to his hand and smiled at him. Damn, I wanted him so bad. I missed his twelve-inch dick so much. Todd looked over at a tall black CO who was in charge of guarding the area where the vending machines were. There was a small bench over there, and the machines kind of blocked the view of the bench from the rest of the visiting room. I could tell another couple was over there getting their fuck on right now. The CO gave Todd the eye.
“We got next, baby,” Todd said, turning his attention back to me.
“So how are you?” I asked, rubbing the top of his hand, really concerned about him. I knew Todd was worried about the lawyer thing, and he was always asking about that fucking traitor Jock.
“Nah, fuck asking about me. How are you and my little dude?” Todd asked, always thinking of me and the baby before himself.
“We hanging in there. Satanya got the baby because I knew we had to talk today. It’s hard, Todd. I’m telling you. Without that safe, we are fucked up,” I said, tears starting to rim my eyes. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to cry during this visit. That crying shit was getting old.
“Well, that’s all about to be a done deal,” he said, leaning in closer to me so he could whisper.
I knew eventually he would be getting to his “plan” that he had mentioned over the phone.
“Shannon, I found out about this major playa named Bobby Knight from Chesapeake,” Todd whispered.
I listened and was just looking at him, confused.
“I hear this nigga is paid like a motherfucker. I hear he got boxes of loot in his crib just sitting up in there because he got so much that he can’t even put that shit in the bank,” Todd continued, his eyes seeming to light up.
I just listened. I was still trying to figure out what this all had to do with me.
“Remember the nigga Dray I told you I met up in here who was mad cool and had my back?” Todd asked.
I nodded.
“Well, this nigga used to work for Knight and—” Todd started, but I cut him off.
“Todd, tell me what I’m going to be doing, because all this shit you talking still ain’t getting to the point of how this is gonna help us or how it involves me,” I said seriously.
The next fifteen minutes of our visit was taken up with Todd telling me what I needed to do in order to set up this Bobby Knight guy. He made it seem so simple.
“Just catch that nigga’s eye, get real friendly with him, and set him up,” Todd said.
I stared at him as he spoke but didn’t really believe what I was hearing. I had been down for whatever for a long time, but Todd was making this shit seem way too easy.
“All you gotta do is get inside his house and get a layout,” Todd continued.
And how the fuck did he suppose I do that? Basically what Todd ended up telling me was, “Shannon, all you gotta do is seduce this nigga and set him up to be robbed and murdered!”
Todd had finished giving me my instructions, and I wasn’t fucking happy at all. I played it off, though, because I didn’t want to ruffle his feathers. Finally, the CO gave us the signal for the bench, and we went over acting like we were buying shit out of the machines. Truthfully, I wasn’t in the mood for fucking at that point, but I sure didn’t come all the way up here to hear bad news and not get no dick. Todd sat down and took his dick out of a little opening in his jumpsuit.
I hoisted my skirt up, pulled my thong aside, and sat on his throbbing dick. “Ahh,” I gasped as I ground my pussy down on his dick so hard. I could feel his shit throbbing like a heart, and I kept grinding it hard.
I knew we had a only few minutes, so I reached under my skirt and touched my clit, trying to seed up my nut before Todd beat me to it.
“Mmmm,” he groaned, which drove me crazy.
I was about to cum all over his dick and soak it with my juices. I pulled my body up so just the tip of his dick was in my tight pussy, and then without warning I plopped back down, putting my entire deep pussy on it. That was all I needed to do.
“Argh!” Todd groaned into the back of my neck, breathing hard.
“Yes!” I cried out as I came too. We hurried and got up before anyone detected us and so the next visit couple could get their quick fuck on. At least I could say I got one good thing out of that fucking visit—some much-needed dick. I was still thinking about what he wanted me to do when the COs called time’s up.
Todd hugged me and said, “Remember what I said.”
“I will,” I said softly, my mind heavy. I walked out of the jail with the name of a big-time hustler, a hangout spot, some instructions on how to plot what my husband had called the “ultimate heist,” and a cold
and broken heart. I was about to become a ruthless bitch, because I realized that now it was all up to me.
Todd
Me and Dray spent all our days talking about this Bobby Knight cat. Dray supplied me with information about where Shannon should focus once she was inside the house. He described how some of the faucets and doorknobs were solid-gold plated. Dray also said that it wouldn’t be easy for Shannon to get out of Bobby’s eyesight to map the way to the rooms where the money was kept, but if she was really focused, she would be able to do it. Dray explained that it was going to take a team to make the shit go down, and that the team had to be comprised of niggas who were smart and fast. I decided that my only two loyal boys were Bam and Black; they would be the ones to help Shannon, and she told me that she had Satanya down on her team too. I was a little skeptical about having Satanya involved, because that bitch ran her mouth like a leaky faucet. I had been telling Shannon to stop telling that bitch our business.
But this dude Dray was a real down nigga. He wasn’t even demanding a certain cut outta the heist loot. He told me to use what I needed up front and give him what I wanted in the end. Dray said bodying that motherfucker Bobby Knight would be enough payment for him. I could dig that shit too. This was more about an eye for an eye for Dray.
I was trying to put the fire under Shannon’s ass, because my next court date was in four weeks and I needed a lawyer. She had already moved outta the house and told me that she was going down to one of Knight’s main hangouts tomorrow night.
I tossed and turned the whole fucking night thinking about my wife. Would she be able to get at this nigga without letting him touch her? Would she be able to get in, find out the setup, and get the fuck outta there so my boys could do their thing? I was going crazy with thoughts.
When we got up the next morning, Dray started talking about the shit right away and I wasn’t really in the mood. As we were getting ready for chow, Dray got into more detail.
“Bobby Knight had my brother killed because he fucking thought my brother was working for the cops,” Dray blurted out. “He tortured my brother. He made him get on all fours like a fucking dog. Then he had one of his henchmen make small cuts all over my brother’s body—even on his dick. That nigga went and got table salt, boxes of that shit, and poured it all over my brother. Then he used rubbing alcohol,” Dray told me, biting down on his lip. “The whole time he was calling my brother a cop. Then he held me down and made me watch as he blew my brother’s head off right there,” Dray continued, closing his eyes like he was about to spaz out just thinking about it.
I was silent. There was nothing I could say that could comfort this nigga right now.
“You see, Bobby was under investigation by the Feds, and he thought it was my brother who was the rat in the camp,” Dray started up again.
I listened but I didn’t wanna hear no shit about who Bobby Knight had killed. Not when I was sending my fucking wife into the fire with this nigga.
All I wanted to do was hear from Shannon first, and then I would be all right. I wanted to know what was going on so far.
After yard, I jumped on the phone to holla at Shannon and find out what was up. The phone just rang and rang. I called like five times in a row. The last time I left a message. “Yo, what’s up with you not answering your phone and shit? I’m fucking worried about you!” I barked into the receiver before I slammed it down.
I stormed back to the tier.
“Yo, T. You wanna hit this game of spades?” one of the inmates yelled at me. I just kept walking fast to my cell. If something had happened to my wife, Dray was a dead man, and then I was gonna put my own lights out for putting her up in the mix. On the other hand, if this shit all worked out, I could be walking out of this shit hole a rich man.
Shannon
I saw Todd calling my phone, and I ignored his call. Right now I didn’t want to speak to him. Lately, all he wanted to speak about was the fucking Bobby Knight shit. In the past couple of days, I don’t think he has even asked about Lil Todd. I had thought about this shit long and hard. I had talked it over with Satanya, and she had said, Shit, girl, if I could just set a nigga up to be robbed and get my fucking husband outta prison, I would do that shit in a minute. I thought about her words, and I felt like if I didn’t do this shit, I would be shitting on Todd after he had taken my ass up out of the hood and given me the good life. That’s not to say I haven’t been down for him when he had done bids the other times. I had always sacrificed and stayed loyal to the nigga.
After our conversation, me and Satanya had it all planned out that we were going to Bobby Knight’s known hangout spot that Dray had given Todd. We would go check out this Bobby Knight cat and then get started with the plan. I didn’t need to tell Todd shit. What I needed was a fucking drink to get my mind right.
“Satanya, let’s go get a bottle of Goose before we get dressed,” I said somberly.
“Girl, you know I keeps a bottle of that shit handy. Drink all the Goose you need, then get the fuck dressed so we can get this shit on and popping,” Satanya said, walking away and coming back. She handed me some Grey Goose and cranberry juice in a martini glass. I grabbed that shit and gulped it down real quick. It wasn’t gonna be no sexy sipping tonight. My fucking nerves needed calming down. Satanya and I sorted through what was left of my high-end outfits—there had been some shit I just wasn’t parting with. Satanya picked me out a dark purple Diane von Furstenberg minidress and a pair of thigh-high Lanvin boots.
“Girl, ya ass is phat as hell in that dress,” Satanya complimented.
“I heard this cat is attracted to a nice big ass,” I said, laughing out loud in an attempt to relieve my fear.
When me and Satanya pulled up to Blakelys, it looked packed. All kinds of high-class cars were up in front of the spot. The one that caught my immediate attention was the Mercedes Maybach with the presidential tint on the windows. This spot was strictly valet only, so we hopped out and let them park my shit. The one fucking thing I was glad to see was that my BMW 745i was able to hang with the cars at this spot. That was the one fucking thing I wasn’t trying to sell or give up. Todd had bought it for me outright as an anniversary gift a year ago when life was good. I had been so happy that day. He was always doing shit like that for me. Now shit had drastically changed.
I walked into the dimly lit club, and it was immediately apparent that this place was a league above what me and Satanya were used to. There were men in there dressed in fucking tailor-made suits and shirts that required cuff links. I peeped more than one pair of diamond-encrusted cuff links. There were absolutely no big chains, jeans, or baseball cap—wearing niggas up in this spot. The music was that slow-jam, mellow type of shit.
“Mmmm, girl, what the fuck?” Satanya asked, noticing the same things that I had noticed. All I could do was shrug my shoulders. We certainly recognized that we were two reformed hood chicks in a place that was out of our league. We found a table and sat down. There were eyes on us for sure, but it wasn’t the usual all-eyes-on-me attention I got in the regular clubs. There were a lot of beautiful women up in there, and their gear was tight. Todd had described Bobby Knight to me, but I didn’t see anyone fitting his description—tall, really dark-skinned, big-lipped, and always wearing dark glasses and hanging with a group of niggas.
A girl in an all-black leotard came over to me and Satanya. “What can I get you ladies?” she asked, smiling.
“Um, can I get like an amaretto sour?” Satanya ordered.
“Oh, miss, I’m sorry. We only serve top-shelf liquors. Mostly things that cost over three hundred dollars a bottle,” she said smugly.
“She’s new here. Give us a minute,” I said, fronting like a motherfucker. When the girl left, I looked at Satanya and she looked at me.
“What the fuck? I’m new here all fucking right. Girl, I don’t know about this shit here,” she whispered.
I was thinking the same thing. We sat there for a while before I heard a rowdy crowd coming in
to the place. When I looked over, I saw an entourage of people flanking someone like the person was a celebrity, and everybody up in the spot started turning toward the door. Girls started fixing their makeup and moving closer to the noise. My heart started thumping wildly, and something inside me told me that it was Bobby Knight coming up in here. Sure enough, I heard one of the waitresses tell the other one, “Get ya shit together. Bobby just stepped up in here, and if you want to get paid, you better be looking good.”
I strained my neck to get a glimpse of him, but he was surrounded on every side. Every now and then, I caught a quick glimpse of his face, which was covered by dark-ass glasses as he shook hands and exchanged pounds with a few dudes.
There was definitely a lot of fanfare surrounding Bobby Knight. They changed the music in the club, waitresses neglected everyone else to pay special attention to him, and even grown-ass men seemed to stop in their tracks for him. Bobby kept his dark shades on, and from where I sat after he took his seat, I could peep his getup. He wore a purple-label Polo button-down with French cuffs and some hot-ass cuff links. On his feet were a pair of Salvatore Ferragamos that I’d seen in Neiman Marcus two weeks ago for $1,600. And that ring. A huge diamond pinky ring, not diamond chips like those wannabe niggas in the hood. That was a solitaire as big as a gumball on his pinky. I couldn’t tell where he was looking because of his shades, and I was hoping he couldn’t tell how hard I was scoping him out.
I turned to Satanya and said, “Let the games begin.”
She just smiled, and we both got up and moved toward the bar. We had to be seen or this night would be a complete waste of time. I switched my ass as hard as I could, and Satanya kept an eye out to see if Bobby was taking notice.