by Noire
Skeet frowned. “Hill said it happened too fast. Them boyz was layin’ in the cut. They musta been hiding in the back of the truck when it pulled up. Zack was supposed to be on guard too, but that fool had just went to take a piss when they rolled up.”
Trey smirked. “I told you before about that slow cat Zack, didn’t I? When you put a weak dude on security ain’t nobody gone be safe. How much they get? Is Fizz good?”
“Fizz is stable, man. He’s madder than a muh’fucka, but stable. He said they got everythang out the register. Every fuckin’ dollar. But we ain’t sweating the doe, man. We just ready to get up in somebody’s ass, you feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you,” Trey said. “But that’s why we put all these systems in place, ya dig? To make sure shit like this don’t happen. Them fools musta been real desperate to come around here violating like that. These local cats know they can’t match up with us.”
“It’s all them new drugs,” the old-head sitting in Trey’s chair butt in. “These young boys is losing their damn minds over them new drugs.”
A cute chick in her early twenties scooped her toddler out of the barber’s chair right next to Trey’s. His clothes were all brand name, and his little shape-up was slick and tight.
“Hell, the crack craze was bad enough,” she said, shaking her head. “But now them fools is out there chasing that crystal meth too. That’s even worse.”
“You ain’t lying,” Skeet agreed quickly as he followed Trey to the back of the shop. “Check this out,” he said once they were behind the closed doors of Trey’s office. He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a small vial and held it in his pale, outstretched palm. “Fizz said he recognized them dudes, and one of them dropped this shit on his way out.”
Trey peered into his manz hand. The small vial held icy-looking crystals and had the words Divine Nine stamped on the outside.
A hot ball of rage jumped in his chest and his dark, piercing eyes narrowed and became even darker.
“That little muh’fucka,” he said. “That’s Flex and his crew.”
“Flex? That young boy who used to run around with your brother Cooter? I thought he got popped?”
Trey nodded. “He did. But them fools messed around and got him in the gut when they shoulda crashed his dome. I had a talk with that youngsta right after my brother got killed, man. Him and Cooter was scheming on bagging the drug trade all over Harlem. I told him if he ever brought his little ass anywhere near here he would regret it. That niggah’s testing us, man. Inching his fucking toe over the line.”
“Yeah, you right. He sent them boys,” Skeet agreed as he studied the vial. “This is definitely his work. Fizz said it was Rome, Boog, and that lil cat Maleek you be sonnin’. He was ridin’ with ’em too.”
Trey froze and grilled the white boy. “You sure about that? You sure Fizz said it was Maleek? Little Leek?”
“Yep,” Skeet nodded. “That’s who I’m talking about. That cat might be young, but he’s real twisted. So what we gonna do about this shit?” he asked. “Call the cops?”
Trey chuckled and shook his head like Skeet was crazy. He touched his front pocket and felt the cold slice of metal that was resting against his thigh.
“Nah, we don’t call no cops when a faded niggah like Flex pulls a lick on us, homey. We assemble us a war council, dude. And then we get ours in.”
“Cool,” Skeet said with a nod of satisfaction. “Them lil cats is prolly up on the Ave right now styling my shit! Rome and Boog are gonna get served, but whattup witcha boy, Maleek? We gonna get in his ass too?”
An unreadable look washed over Trey’s face.
“Nah,” he said. “Don’t fuck with Leek. Don’t even think about touching him. Maleek is mine. I’ll handle that lil cat.”
CHAPTER 9
Money-making Monique was busy fake-moaning her ass off, when in reality she was steady scheming and her pussy was numb and couldn’t feel a goddamn thing.
“Yeah, Daddy!” she screamed as she bounced up and down on Pluto’s lap. “Gimme that good dick, baby. Ooooh, yeah, fuck this shit up!”
She was facing away from him and impaled on his wood, and behind her Pluto was gripping her small waist and raising and lowering her on his pole. Babbling sexual gibberish, Mo arched her spine and thrust her bold chocolate cake way out so he could really get up in it. Smirking as she worked her ass-cheeks, she rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling and gripped Pluto’s fat thighs to brace herself upright.
Trying her best to get him to blow his load, Monique started shuddering and stuttering like she was turned on to the max and just about to cum. She made her pussy muscles get soft and loose, and then she contracted her pelvis and grinded down real hard, making her coochie walls suck him in deep and tight as shit. Performing like a mothafucka, Mo moaned and yelped like Pluto’s slimy dick was a stiff, delicious bomb-pop, but every bit of it was just part of her professional hoe-act because Monique knew she couldn’t get off on this niggah’s wood if she tried.
While he was back there grunting and humping and waxing her ass, she was busy thinking about the slick one that she had just pulled on him. Mo had deliberately come home from the G-Spot early, and then waited in the living room until she heard Pluto’s key turning in the lock. Jumping up quickly, Monique had run into their bedroom and pressed her cell phone to her ear, and pretended to be having an intense conversation while she looked for something in her nightstand drawer.
“I just don’t know,” she sighed into the phone, making sure her back was turned as Pluto approached their bedroom. “I mean, if I tell Pluto that Ace and Salida set his nephew up to get shot, then how the hell is my man gonna feel? I mean, on the one hand he’ll probably wanna kill both of their grimy asses, but on the other hand Ace is his partner! His manz! Them two go way back together to the early days with G, and the last thing I wanna do is drop a dime and come between two best homeys, you know what I mean?”
Monique paused with her hand on his hip like she was listening to somebody on the other end. Never mind that she had turned her phone completely off so that shit didn’t mess around and ring and blow her game up. She could feel Pluto’s eyes crawling on her back as he stood listening to her fake convo, and she could even hear his fat ass wheezing behind her like a pissed off asthmatic old man.
“I know,” she finally said, sounding torn and tortured. “Yeah, you prolly right girl. Matter fact, you are right. I know. I gotta tell him. I can’t let them bastards play my man for no fool! Pluto deserves to know what kinda slime he’s fuckin’ with. Girl, can you believe they got him thinking Maleek killed Truth over a stank piece of ass? Now you know that’s a lie! On the real, Ace and Salida actually hired that young boy to shoot Truth!” Monique said passionately. “They paid him! They wanted Truth dead ’cause his lil ass got open on Nooni and started fuckin’ up their plans. They knew he was trying to sneak her outta the G-Spot so she could go home to her sister. That’s why Truth had to die. Not because of no bullshit beef between him and Maleek. That poor boy died to keep him from fuckin’ up Ace and Salida’s dirty plans for Nooni!”
Monique jumped and whirled around as Pluto stormed into the room behind her with his eyeballs lit on fire.
“Oh, shit! I gotta go,” she whispered fearfully, then pretended to turn off her phone and look shocked and terrified.
“Who in the fuck was you just talking to?” Pluto demanded and snatched the cell phone from her hands. His fat cheeks jiggled and his pig-nose flared. “Who in the fuck was you just tellin’ all my fuckin’ business to?”
“N-n-nobody!” Monique stammered, acting her ass off as Pluto turned her phone on and started scrolling through her call history. “I was just talking to my sister Marva, that’s all. Just my sister, Pluto. Nobody else.”
Monique watched as his fat fingers found her call folder. She had definitely dialed her sister’s number, but she hadn’t spoken to that bitch. Marva owed her a hundred dollars and when she caught up with that trick Moni
que was gonna put her foot up that ass. But Pluto liked Marva, so it wasn’t a total crime for Mo to be talking to her. Sometimes Monique thought he liked her sister Marva a little bit too damned much.
She stiffened as Pluto flung the phone down on the floor and took a menacing step toward her. He was gonna kick her ass. Straight fuck her up. Monique had figured this would be one of the consequences of her plan, but if it meant exposing that bitch Salida and getting Pluto to go after Ace’s throat, then this was one ass-kicking she was down to take.
“You grimy-mouth bitch!” Pluto said, and pounced on her. Monique let her knees sag and she dropped to the floor as he slung her by her hair and back-fisted her upside her head. “You better not never get on the phone and blab nothing about my fuckin’ nephew to no fuckin’ body! You hear me?”
Monique took the blows that rained down on her head and back in stride. She balled up in a knot and protected her face, and she winced as Pluto threw a flurry of haymakers at her exposed arms and legs.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, niggah! she thought as his fury exploded and he took his rage and frustration out on her. Keeping her chin tucked, she rolled left and right as he swung his feet and fist wildly and beat the shit outta her until he was winded and his anger was finally spent.
Monique waited patiently until he had stopped swinging, and then she pleaded with him from her knees. “You ain’t gotta beat me like this, Daddy!” she beseeched him with fake tears falling from her eyes. She clutched at his ankles, and then his knees, and then she rose up a little bit and clutched at Pluto’s belt buckle.
“Mo-Mo is sorry,” she meowed like a sweet kitten as she massaged his joint through his pants. She looked up at him through soft, adoring eyes as she threw her femininity down on him and appealed to his masculine nature. “You know your baby didn’t mean no harm,” she cooed as she expertly undid his belt and his zipper and went to work on his love muscle like it was the prettiest one she had ever seen.
Above her, Pluto was still breathing hard from exertion, but Monique had no trouble detecting the moment he went from winded to wanting. Manipulating his hardening dick in her expert hands, she had his joint standing up nice and tall in no time, and even though the foul stench coming off his ass smelled like he hadn’t touched a drop of water in about ten days, Monique jumped on his greasy dick and gobbled it up like that grimy thang was made of pure gold.
“Yeah,” she whispered as she planted tiny kisses up and down his thick shaft. She reached down into his pants and cupped his nuts, cringing at the disgusting sensation of his stubbly ball hairs raking across her palm.
Wiggling his hips, Pluto shook his baggy pants off until they sailed down to the floor and fell around his feet like a deflated balloon. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his drawers, and backing off slightly so Monique would lose her suction grip on his dick, he peeled his tighty-whities down over his plump thighs and pushed them below his knees.
Monique tried to moan, but that shit came out like a gag and a groan. The crusty disaster staring up at her from the crotch of Pluto’s drawers almost made her go blind, but unless she wanted this niggah to really bust her ass, she knew better than to let him catch wind of her disgust.
Monique stayed on her knees sucking his dick for a long-ass time. It was like that niggah was deliberately holding on to his nut. Every time she got him in a grip and a motion that she just knew would make him blow his load, Pluto would push her off and make her change her rhythm and position so she would have to get his arousal built up all over again.
When he finally got tired and had to sit his fat ass down in a chair, Mo was happy as hell and she promptly obeyed him when he told her to back her big ass up and ride him motorcycle-style. She climbed on and rode that funky niggah like a jockey, and when he finally thrust his thumb up her asshole and shot his wad off in her pussy, she sighed with relief and squeezed her thighs on him real tight, milking every ounce of liquid from his balls.
As soon as he caught his breath, Pluto pushed Monique off of him and she sank down to her knees on the floor. She didn’t even look up when he stomped angrily into the bathroom and slammed the door, instead she just sat there and listened to the sound of his putrid farts and his fat turds of shit plopping into the toilet bowl.
Climbing slowly to her feet, Monique picked up her cell phone from the floor and then looked in the mirror to inspect the damage that he had put on her body. Her arms were welting up with fat purple bruises, and her legs felt like she had run a marathon, but her smile was bright and her face was untouched.
Mission accomplished! she thought, giggling inside with evil satisfaction. She knew Pluto had overheard more than enough of her phony conversation to make him go after Ace and Salida and chop both of them fools straight through the neck. And all Monique wanted in exchange for her clever trickery and the ass-whipping she had just taken, was a front row seat when it all went down so she could flash a big grin at her enemies when their severed heads rolled on the ground.
CHAPTER 10
New York hadn’t changed much since he’d left and that made Sallie really happy. All the little rat holes, and grimy digs he used to do business in were still right there where he’d left them, and they were even dirtier and grimier than he remembered.
He’d spent his first two nights in the city just making sure his surroundings were secure. He was a white boy in Chinatown, and the re-emergence of gangs in the Chinese underworld was a problem he didn’t want to deal with.
Plus, Sallie knew that Juicy was hiding somewhere in this town and the last thing he wanted to do was run into her and any of her moolie friends. He’d have to kill that bitch over the money he’d stolen from Gino’s safe, and while he didn’t have a problem taking her out, it would be messy, and a mess was the last thing Sallie needed right now.
So, he had to be careful and he had some work to do too. It took him a while to carve a hole in the base of the Buddha statue, but it was all cream after that. He stashed Juicy’s loot as far up in the guts of the statute as he could, and then he slid two handguns up in there too.
Sallie spent his third night on the East Coast in a state of deep thought. He mulled over his pending arms deal with the young kingpin from Harlem and carefully laid out his plan. When everything was organized and crystal clear in his head, he called the fast-talking dude to confirm that he did indeed have the necessary funds to conduct such a large transaction.
“Don’t fuck with me,” Sallie warned the slimy young kingpin. “I’m fronting a load for you and everything better be in order. ’Cause if it ain’t I’m taking you down.”
“Muh’fucka!” the kid had barked. “Suck my dick, white boy! A niggah like me is sittin’ on plenty of cash! You just get me them fuckin’ tools and make sure ere’ one of them shits is squeaky clean, a’ight?”
Sallie hung up and made another call. This time he hit the arms trader who had promised to supply him with the shitload of clean guns. Unlike the greedy young moolie who was planning to spray the shit outta Harlem, this cat was a true professional. He was semi-retired and only popped his head up to do special jobs on special occasions, and just as Sallie expected, the trader confirmed that his arsenal was well-stocked and he was ready to do some heavy business. Satisfied that all his ducks were finally lined up and his dots were all connected, Sallie slept like a baby in his shitty little Chinatown flat.
On his fourth night in town Sallie stepped out to find some action. Chinatown was ablaze with activity and bright lights. He walked toward the busy avenue where he’d parked his car, passing by storefronts, restaurants, and Asian whores who were looking to turn a quick couple of dollars.
Sallie walked by and never even looked their way. There was no need to. These flat-assed, bony-butt chicks weren’t his flavor. Instead, he headed north on the East River Drive and drove until it became the Harlem River Drive. He exited at 116th Street, then cruised the neighborhood leisurely. Sallie had to admit that Los Angeles hadn’t been all that bad, but there was n
o place in the world like New York. It had a pulse all its own, a smell of its own, and a vibe that was unlike any other city he knew. Wondering if he’d run into Juicy somewhere on the streets of Harlem, he drove past pizza shops, beauty salons, travel agencies, and more bodegas and storefront churches than he could shake his nuts at.
Sallie might have appeared to be wandering aimlessly, but he knew exactly what he was looking for, and he knew this town would surely deliver. He’d spent part of the afternoon watching and rewatching Beyonce’s Single Ladies video on his laptop, and no offense—but fuck that broad Beyoncé! It was the chocolate-skinned girl with the thick, muscular ass that Sallie couldn’t get out of his mind. She was exactly the type of chick he wanted to bang tonight, and this town had plenty of hoes who had the same kind of luscious body as hers.
Sallie headed for one of the popular spots where prostitutes worked the track and flaunted their business openly on the street. There were lots of chicks on the stroll tonight, and as soon as they spotted a clean-shaven white boy like him their eyes lit up like they could just taste their jackpot.
The block was on buzz as Sallie pulled his ride over and slid up to the curb. Black girls with big tits and monster asses were posted up in mini-skirts, short-shorts, tight pants, and high heels. Sallie’s well-trained eye sifted through the assortment of women like he was looking at the menu at a greasy fast food restaurant. There were about fifteen of them flagging down cars and working the curb, and every last one of them made a bee-line over to his whip like they were competing in a relay race.
With a crowd of hoes surrounding him, it only took Sallie a minute to spot the kind of chick he had a taste for, and when he got out of his car and stood up so he could see her better, his drawers immediately rocked up and he had to stop himself from drooling.
Ignoring the vulgar propositions from the other prostitutes, Sallie motioned to the young girl with the smooth brown skin and bright eyes, and she smiled and shook her hips and she pushed her way through the crowd and walked toward him. As usual, all the hoes he hadn’t chosen got loud and salty and started talking mad shit.