Joe shook his head as he stared out of the window at the house. “It’s always the people who are closest to you that want to cross you.” Joe slammed his hand down on the seat. “Fuck!” Joe gritted through his teeth. “Should kill that nigga.”
“Yeah, and I wish I had took that mu’fucka out when—” Malek paused.
Joe was silent for a minute and then said, “Is that why, during that shootout, your aim was a little, how should I say, off?”
Malek looked at Joe in surprise. “You saw that?” Since Joe had never spoken on it, Malek hadn’t been sure whether Joe was fully aware of his intentions with Tariq that day at the shootout.
Joe nodded. He could tell by the expression on Malek’s face that he was wondering why he hadn’t said anything before now, so Joe put his mind to rest. “I didn’t say anything because I figured your mind was all twisted. I mean, you had just run into your old girlfriend and shit, and I know how she be having a nigga’s mind fucked up, so I let it go. Besides, I figured, if you had wanted that nigga dead, you would have handled yours right then and there. You had a perfect, clear shot.”
Malek sighed. He was glad that Joe hadn’t held that against him and placed him under the microscope of suspicion.
“But don’t worry,” Joe said as he puffed and exhaled, “this time I’m going to handle the situation. I got something for his ass.” Joe reclined in his chair and signaled for his driver to pull off.
Chapter Three
Tasha pulled down the sun visor in her car to check her makeup in the mirror. She released a deep sigh before she flipped the visor back up. Butterflies had the nerve to be fluttering around in her stomach.
“Get it together,” she told herself. “Since when have your skills failed you?”
Tasha was the queen of manipulation, which is one of the reasons why she had done her job of looking after the girls so successfully. Whatever Manolo hadn’t been able to convince the girls of doing, she stepped in and made shit happen. Well, now, once again it was up to her to make shit happen, and, this time, lives were on the line.
Taking a deep breath, Tasha exited the car. As she walked into the Flint Police Department, a look of contempt crossed her face. She hated the police and everything associated with them, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Heads turned as the police officers admired her shapely legs, which stretched out beneath the red shirtlike dress she had ordered from a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalog. It fit just tightly enough to reveal the outline of her round behind.
As Tasha walked by officers who were just standing around shooting the breeze or updating one another on police business, she noticed the lustful stares, and a smirk crossed her face. Your pockets can’t afford this pussy. Fuckin’ pigs, she thought while turning her nose up and making her way over to the front desk.
“What can I do for you?” an officer asked. He was reading the Daily Journal and barely even looked up to acknowledge Tasha.
“I’m here to see Detective Troy Davis,” she responded.
Tasha figured that her visit to Officer Troy was long overdue. After all, he was the cop who Manolo supposedly had in his pocket. He was supposed to look out for them—moreso look out for Manolo and his shady dealings. But if Tasha had her way, the tables were about to get turned fast enough to make Manolo a dizzy man. Besides, Tasha felt that, in a way, Officer Troy owed her, and it was payback time. After all, it was Tasha’s pussy that had sealed the deal between him and Manolo. Her trick with Officer Troy had brought her out of years of retirement, so as far as she was concerned, it was time for him to pay the true piper.
“Have a seat. I’ll see if I can track him down,” the officer behind the desk responded to Tasha, reading one more line before putting the paper down and picking up the phone.
Tasha nodded and went and sat down. She crossed her legs and massaged them suggestively as she waited for Officer Troy to come into sight. She had to make sure that he caught her getting her sexy on. She needed his help and knew that she would have to give a little to get a little. Tasha had to admit, not being conceited but convinced, that with her “work-’em” attitude, Officer Troy shouldn’t be a problem. She knew that she looked good, and if the attitude didn’t do the trick then, with her “fuck-’em” dress on, she was sure that Detective Troy Davis would take the bait.
“Miss Tasha.”
She looked up to see none other than Officer Troy standing there, looking his usual lame, baldhead self.
Why couldn’t he have at least laid off the doughnuts since the last time I saw him? Tasha thought, turned off by his protruding gut. But fuck it. This is ’bout business.
“Well, well, well,” he chimed, “to what do I owe this unexpected surprise?” Troy rubbed his hands together and approached her, licking his lips as he looked her up and down. He knew firsthand that Tasha tasted as good as she looked.
This cornball-ass nigga. Tasha flicked her hair behind her shoulders. She did all she could to ignore the fact that Troy’s bald head was shaped funny, that he’d had one doughnut too many, and, worst of all, that he was part of Flint PD—a stinkin’ cop. But she needed something, so she’d have to put on her game face and play her hand right.
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk, you know, privately?” she asked, batting her eyes then allowing them to travel down to his crotch, which was only partially visible due to his bulging gut hanging over his belt.
“Yeah, let me show you to my office,” he replied.
Tasha stood.
“After you.” He held out his hand, allowing her to walk through the doorway first.
She walked with him through the precinct. When he put his hand on the small of her back and massaged it gently, she knew that she had him right where she needed him to be. Now she just had to go in for the kill.
They went into a small, messy office. He closed the door behind them, leaving on the other side a few drooling fellow officers who wished they could be in his shoes. He pulled out a chair for Tasha and then took a seat behind his desk.
“So . . . what can I do for you, Tasha? What is it that you want from me?” He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He, too, had intentions of getting her right where he wanted her. It was an open playing field right about now, and anyone’s game to win.
“Why does a girl have to want something?” she asked sweetly, giving him a genuine smile. Something about Officer Troy’s tone let Tasha know that he wasn’t as naïve as she’d assumed he was. She knew that she would have to play her cards right in order to get him to help her out.
“Because you haven’t said one word to me since our little rendezvous at Wild Thangs. And that was, what, over a year ago?” He rocked back and forth in his office chair. “I even been up in there a few times. I figured since your boss owns the strip club, I’d maybe catch you in there. Guess I was wrong.”
“Well, you know how it is in my line of work. A girl gets busy.”
“Oh, but now all of a sudden your busy schedule has permitted you to just show up here out of the blue looking for me?”
Tasha shrugged as if to say, “That’s what it looks like.”
“Well, I got news for you—My luck ain’t that fuckin’ good, sweetheart. So let’s try this again. What can I do for you?”
Tasha knew it was time to change her strategy. She didn’t want to insult Troy any further by making him think she was taking him for a fool. She was confident, however, that by the end of the day he’d be playing the fool anyway.
She let her shoulders drop, and with a serious look on her face, she began her spiel. “Okay, I’m not gon’ try to game you because I know you ain’t falling for the bullshit anyway.”
“You damn right about that, shorty, so let’s just be real.”
Tasha smiled because she had Troy thinking that he was in control. Using reverse psychology, she was still gaming his ass, making it seem like he had the upper hand. She had to give herself a pat on the back because she was truly one
of a kind. There wasn’t a man alive who could outsmart her. Not even Manolo, and she’d soon enough prove it.
Tasha wasn’t like the other girls when it came to Manolo. He didn’t have to trick or manipulate her into becoming a Manolo Mami. She knew exactly what she was getting into when she’d met South Side’s most notorious pimp. Her entire goal was to become a kept woman, and if proving her loyalty to this man meant selling pussy for a couple of years, then so be it. Her initial plan was always to become the madam, the ruler over all of the other girls. It just so happened that her plan came to fruition a little sooner than she’d expected.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t only Tasha’s hard work and loyalty that placed her on the throne, but a horrible incident that she would never forget for as long as she lived. Being the strong-headed fighter that she was, she didn’t let the brutal assault by one of her johns keep her down. Instead, after she recovered, she used the situation to her advantage and convinced Manolo not to put her back on the streets. And so he allowed her to be the madam of the house—the kept woman. Now, she didn’t have to turn one trick for the rest of her life if she didn’t want to.
When he’d made the decision, Manolo took into consideration Tasha’s past loyalty. Besides, the madam of the house definitely had to be somebody with Tasha’s personality, someone who the girls knew they couldn’t run over, even with a Mack truck. So Manolo took her off the streets and gave her charge over the girls.
“Okay, I need a favor,” Tasha just came out and said to Troy.
“So the plot thickens,” he replied sarcastically.
She raised her eyebrows and looked at him like he was crazy. “Are you gon’ let me finish?”
“I’m sorry, sexy. Go ahead. I mean, what else do I have to spend my time doing?” He spoke with sarcasm. “There are only a few hundred criminals I could be out there busting.”
“Well, speaking of criminals . . . I need you to raid Manolo’s club,” Tasha said bluntly.
“What do you mean, you want me to raid his spot? For show or something?” Troy asked with a puzzled look on in his face.
Manolo had been allowing him a free supply of pussy from the Manolo Mamis in exchange for “overlooking certain things.” So Troy couldn’t imagine why else Tasha, whom he had known to be clearly on Manolo’s team, would want him to raid Wild Thangs.
“No, not for show,” Tasha corrected him. “For real.” She moved in closer to Troy as if she were about to tell him something top secret. “He’s got ten bricks and a little over fifty thousand dollars in a wall safe in his office.” She bit her tongue and knew that it was because she was snitching. Under any other circumstance, she wouldn’t even be caught in a police station, but she figured Manolo had this coming to him, having watched him manipulate the minds of young girls for years.
Tasha knew she played a role in the manipulation too, which was why she felt a responsibility to help Halleigh, and Mimi, too, get their lives back on track. This was the reason she was abandoning her principles, snitching to bring down Manolo. She couldn’t take back the heartache, pain, and even the death that some of the prostitutes had suffered in the trick game, but she could at least save others from it. If ever there was a time she needed redemption in her life, it was now. She hoped that her efforts wouldn’t be in vain.
Troy sat up in his seat and looked Tasha directly in the eyes. “This ain’t news to me. I know what goes on in that club. The thing is, Manolo laces my pockets here and there, if you know what I mean. Or have you forgot?” He winked at Tasha and rubbed her thigh. “So I’m already getting my cut,” he stated frankly, giving her one hard smack on the leg and then turning his chair away to let her know that he wasn’t interested.
As far as Troy was concerned, Tasha hadn’t brought any better deal to the table than he was already getting with Manolo. In addition to free pussy from the Manolo Mamis, Manolo himself threw Troy some cash on the side.
“Believe me, that little bit of paper Manolo throwing you ain’t got shit on what’s sitting inside that safe.” Tasha knew she had to butter up the deal to make it just a tad more tasty so that Troy would want to take a bite. “I figure we could split the take fifty-fifty. That’s twenty-five stacks each . . . not to mention the potential profit from the bricks.” She looked Troy up and down. “That’s what, two years’ salary for you?” Tasha stated, hoping to convince the crooked officer to see things her way. Otherwise, she’d have to walk out of his office with the risk of him ratting her out to Manolo, and she knew what the end result for her would be if he did.
Troy got a little curious and asked Tasha, “Why would you be telling me this? Manolo’s pimpin’ your pretty ass. I mean, no offense, but you Manolo’s bitch. What do you have to gain?”
Tasha thought long and hard about the question Troy had just posed to her. She recalled the time when she first met Manolo. She was new in town and he put her on to a hustle. That, she couldn’t deny. But that was before he was hard in the pimping game. At that time, he was pretty much just about getting money by any means necessary, not really finessing his business skills in the pimping game. And she was strong enough to deal with everything that came with the life. Some of the girls he’d turned out in the later years, however, were too weak to survive the game.
Halleigh’s face popped into her mind. She knew that Halleigh was one of the weakest girls she’d ever had to deal with, and it was only a matter of time before she was found dead somewhere. The way Tasha saw it, she already had enough blood on her hands, and there wasn’t room for more.
“My freedom,” Tasha finally replied. “My freedom is what I have to gain.” She stood from her chair and walked over to lock the office door.
Troy watched her every move. He turned his chair to face her as she closed the blinds and walked behind his desk. She lifted one knee to open his legs wide, her hands massaging the bulge growing in his groin.
“I’m chasing my freedom, Troy, and I’ll do anything to get it,” she whispered in his ear.
“Anything?” he whispered back, the lust making his voice seem deeper as he received the gentle massage in his private area.
“Anything,” she replied.
He slipped a finger between her legs and smiled when he discovered that she wasn’t wearing any panties. He had to admit, Tasha was a woman determined to get what she wanted.
Tasha’s beauty had always enabled her to hustle men, and right now, Troy was merely another victim to be added to her long list of conquests.
Troy stood up and bent Tasha over his desk. Her voluptuous ass was calling for him. He began to grind against her as he undid his belt buckle.
Tasha played in her pussy, opening herself up for Troy and massaging her clitoris. She pulled a condom out of her bra and slid it to him. “Put the safety belt on it, daddy . . . and let’s ride.”
Troy, working with a good nine inches, rubbed his bare thickness against her vaginal walls. He wanted to feel just a touch of her rawness before slipping on the condom. “Put it on for me, baby,” he ordered Tasha.
She turned around, took the condom package out of Troy’s hand, then used her teeth to rip open the packet. She then stared Troy dead in the eyes as she teasingly slipped the condom on him. After making sure the condom was on just right, Tasha turned around and assumed the position. Troy played with Tasha’s womanhood with the tip of his penis.
With Troy behind her, she didn’t have to look at hs face, and she was getting hot. She licked on her own nipples as she anticipated Troy’s nine inches entering her.
He slid into her with ease and pumped her so hard that he caused her to crash against the desk. Items flew to the floor as she bucked against him, contracting her pussy on his shaft. He gripped her ass and opened and closed her cheeks as he rocked in and out of her. The sight of her slim waist, round behind, and the sound of her titties bouncing and making slapping sounds only excited him more. He began to moan in delight.
Tasha had to give it up to Troy. The nigga was fucking her righ
t. If she had known that he was getting down like that, she might have given his ass some pussy the last time they’d connected at the strip club. Instead, Troy had left the club with Tasha’s pussy juice on his face only. But, at the time, that was enough to make her feel disgusted by what she had to do. Prior to that night, Tasha had taken on her role as madam and stopped participating in any sexual acts with anybody, except for Manolo. So even though she was the one who ended up getting her rocks off with Troy’s tongue action that night, a trick was a trick as far as she was concerned.
But now, Tasha was actually enjoying herself. She closed her eyes and bit her lip when Troy reached around and pinched her nipples. It turned her on, and before she knew it, she too was trying to silence her moans.
“Damn, this pussy so good,” he whispered as his hips moved in circles, causing him to go even deeper inside of her. “Them other tricks ain’t got nothing on your fine ass.” Troy slapped her ass and stroked deeper.
“Mmmm, they learned from the best, Big Poppa,” Tasha replied.
They were so loud that they had attracted a crowd outside of Troy’s office. Someone knocked loudly, but Troy ignored it. They heard a voice from the other side.
“Everything all right?”
Still ignoring the interruption, Troy didn’t respond. He just pulled out of Tasha, turned her toward him, then picked her up. He placed his stiff dick inside her again and pumped in and out of her while holding her in midair.
“Oh my God,” she whispered in delight as he carried her around his office.
He reached his office door and pressed her against it as he continued to sex her.
“Damn, baby,” Troy huffed and puffed.
He got so loud that Tasha had to put her hand over his mouth.
“I’m about to nut,” he exclaimed.
“Nut for me, baby,” she whispered, popping her pussy even harder, trying to get hers in too. She felt the gush between her legs as she came.
A few seconds later, Troy gripped her ass tightly as he experienced the best orgasm of his life.
Back to the Streets Page 3