by Noire
The impact also tore Handgun Goody’s hands free from the door handle and sent him crashing down to the hard concrete. He landed face-first and quickly scrambled to his feet to try and catch up with the whip, and that’s when Slick drew a bead on that muthafucka.
Goody was beating feet toward the shattered bay door, desperate to catch up with Ice Pick and escape the hot bursts of fire that Wild Man was laying down, when Slick squinted his gun-eye and squeezed one off.
Pop!
His first round took out Goody’s knee. The gangsta screeched like a bitch as his joint exploded outward, from the back to the front, and he went down hard on his ass.
Goody rolled over clutching his leg and howling. A look of pure rage was in his eyes as he tried to pull himself up. Slick’s next shot was just as accurate and it tore into Goody’s gut and burrowed clean through his lower back.
That nigga forgot all about his knee as he clutched his stomach, grimacing and grunting in pain as hot blood seeped through his fingers.
“How you like getting gut-ripped?” Slick walked over and breathed heat down on him. “That’s where you stabbed all of us kids at, ain’t it?”
His next couple of shots came in rapid succession as Slick went to war on Dirty Mike, AKA Handgun Goody. He tic-tac-toed that screaming nigga, blasting him once in each shoulder, then in his other knee, and then finally he aimed his tool at the center of his enemy’s dome.
The scent of death was in the air and it smelled delicious to Slick. He was about to send Goody straight to hell and he couldn’t help but crack a smile. This coward was the last one alive out of those who’d been responsible for the murder of his parents and siblings. The circle of vengeance was about to be complete, and Slick knew that pulling the trigger was gonna give him the ultimate satisfaction.
It’s over, Momma Kia. It’s over, Big Slick. Samira, Sameek, Samille, Samir II. I love y’all, fam. This shit is finally over. Now everybody can rest in peace.
The pain of losing his entire family and being forced to grow up alone on the streets of Crooklyn would never go away. But Slick could take pride in knowing that the last nigga on his list was about to be maggot food.
“I shoulda erased you a long time ago,” Slick spit as he stared into Handgun’s fearful eyes as the kingpin wriggled and gasped and bled all over the floor.
And then Slick lowered his gun.
“But unfortunately your dirty ass ain’t mine to kill.”
Slick walked over to Jewelz and crouched down beside her. Soft cries escaped her bruised lips and Whitey’s blood and gore dripped from her bald head.
Slick pulled out his knife and cut the rope away from her wrists in one smooth stroke. Then he gathered her in his arms and turned her naked body around until she was sitting with her back against his chest, facing Handgun Goody.
“Here,” Slick said, placing his gat between her trembling hands as he helped her find the grip.
“Get yours, baby. Do his bitch ass any kinda way you wanna do him. Finish this shit up for once and for all so our family can finally sleep easy, baby. Finish his ass!”
Jewelz was so weak she could barely hold her head up. Her naked breasts heaved and her whole body trembled as she leaned back against Slick’s chest and allowed him to support her weight.
She was exhausted as all hell, but what she lacked in strength she made up for in commitment. Slowly, she curled her finger around the trigger. A look of pure hatred flowed from her eyes and set fire to Handgun Goody’s soon-to-be departed soul.
“Jewelz,” Goody moaned, raising up on one elbow as his eyes begged her for mercy. “You know I luh you, girl,” he gasped in desperation. “Don’t do this shit. You ain’t gotta do this. Please, baby. I wasn’t really gonna hurt you. I swear on my mother I wasn’t. Just hold the fuck up baby and let’s talk about it…”
Jewelz’s hands were steady as fuck as she tightened the pressure on her index finger. Handgun Goody’s lil fake love didn’t sway her one damn bit. Her lifelong need for vengeance and retribution was stronger than her cancer. It was stronger than all the pimps and all the tricks, and all the rapes she had endured. It was stronger than the beatings, stronger than her damaged spirit, and it was stronger than her humanity too.
There wasn’t an ounce of mercy in Jewelz’s heart as she squinted through her good eye and squeezed that trigger. Without a shred of remorse she jerked her finger and planted a heat round dead in the middle of Handgun Goody’s forehead.
Pop!
And in that instant, it was over. The weight of Jewelz’s tortured past collided in the air with Goody’s criminal soul, and both spiraled down to the pits of hell where they belonged.
“You got him, baby,” Slick whispered in her ear and caught the burner as it fell from her weak grip. “You whacked his bitch-ass. Now it’s over.”
All Jewelz could do was nod weakly. Her insides felt all busted up and a tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Yes. It was finally over. All of it.
CHAPTER 9
The Smooth Getaway
Officer Darren Wilson paused with his nose deep between the hoe’s butt cheeks. His mouth was wide open and ass juice was dripping from his chin.
“Did you hear that?”
“Nope,” Taquanoshia smirked as she leaned her elbows on the hood of his patrol car and tooted her ass up higher. “I ain’t hear shit because it was one of them SBD’s.”
“SBD’s?”
“Yeah,” she giggled. “My fart was the Silent But Deadly type.”
Officer Wilson was still gripping his dick. He listened for a few more seconds and then got back to licking that pussy and tryna get excited again so he could get the nut he was about to pay for.
But suddenly a series of staccato pops sounded off in the air. They were coming from the other end of the alley where the maintenance shop was located, and they were followed by several more blasts.
Officer Wilson froze again. This time he knew for sure that it wasn’t no fart he was dealing with. Those were gun-shots, and they were coming from somewhere up the street.
Rising up out of his crouch, he pushed his favorite dish away and took off running down towards the other end of the long pathway where the shots had come from. He looked comical as hell tryna stuff his dick back inside his pants and buckle his belt and put on his shoulder holster at the same time.
“Get outta here!” he hollered back to Taquanoshia. “Get gone! I’ll find you tomorrow and we can do it again!”
“Shit!” Taquanoshia stomped her feet and cursed as she watched him haul ass down the extra-long alley, screaming into his walkie-talkie for backup. Her pussy was sore as hell and she was late for her next trick. “You stingy lil-dick bastard, you! I knew your cheap ass wasn’t gonna fuckin pay me!”
$$$$$
Slick was still holding Jewelz in his arms when Wild Man walked up carrying a backpack. He had a sniper rifle over one shoulder and his sub-machinegun was slung over the other one.
“Sup, son.” He nodded toward the daylight that was streaming in through the entrance of the maintenance shop where the Mercedes SUV had just torn the doors off the hinges and disappeared from view.
“I got most of them Goode Brother bitches but one of them maggots got away.”
Inhaling the fumes from the whip’s burnt rubber, Slick nodded back. Ice Pick. That lil bitch had peeled out and left his brothers to run or gun.
“Yeah, he got away for now,” Slick grunted, knowing that one day he would hunt Ice Pick Goody down and finish the job. “For now.”
Suddenly Wild Man froze and turned his head like he was listening closely. “Yo, you hear that shit? Sirens. The pigs are about to be here in a minute and Jewelz looks like she needs to get to a hospital. Let’s roll, man.”
“Nah.” Slick shook his head as he gathered Jewelz closer in his arms and gently rocked her back and forth. “You go ’head. I ain’t leaving her.”
“Sup with the Brinks uniforms?” Wild Man asked, eyeing Whi
tey’s dead body. “Fuck was y’all gunslingers doing?”
“We ran down on the drivers and stole a forty-seven million dollar diamond for Goody,” Slick muttered. “They call it the Pink Lady.”
Wild Man’s eyes got big. “Damn! That fuckin diamond is in high demand! Y’all was gunnin for that shit too?”
Slick nodded. “I had to do it to get Jewelz back. We was supposed to be delivering that shit to a museum in twenty minutes so we can keep the Feds off our asses but…”
“Go,” Jewelz whispered as she pushed Slick away and tried to break free of his clinging arms. “Get outta here. Go do what you gotta do…”
Slick hesitated as the sound of sirens grew closer and the mechanics and maintenance men began emerging outta their hiding places now that the bullets were no longer flying.
He shook his head again. “I ain’t leaving you here, Jewelz. Fuck that! I can’t leave you.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Jewelz gasped, pulling away from him with the last bit of her strength. “This is the murder game, Slick! Don’t be acting like no fuckin rookie. Get gone,” she dismissed him. “Fuck outta here!”
“A’ight,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?” He paused to kiss her on her chin. “You’re gonna be all right, Jewelz. I swear every fuckin thing I’m doing is for us, baby. For me and for you. Go to the hospital. I’ma handle this shit and meet you there as soon as I can.”
Slick kissed Jewelz again and then looked up at Wild Man. “Yo, take off your shirt and put on Whitey’s.”
Wild Man stripped outta his clean shirt and Slick draped it over Jewelz and covered her nakedness. In an instant Wild Man pulled Whitey’s shirt off of his dead corpse and put that shit on, blood and all.
Slick hated to leave Jewelz, but she was a gunslinger and he knew she would survive.
“I’ll see you in a few,” he promised her as he backed away, leading Wild Man toward the armored Brinks truck that was parked outside. The sirens were getting louder and there was no time to lose.
“I’ma go make this move so me and you can be set for the rest of our lives, baby. But I swear to God I’ll be at that hospital as soon as I can. I promise you, Jewelz. Wait for me there, okay? I swear to God…” Slick stared into her eyes and let every ounce of his love show.
“If you don’t never believe nothing else I say, please believe this. I promise you, Jewelz. If you gimme one more chance I’ll be there for you forever. Word is life, ma.”
$$$$$
That buff Chinese monster came outta nowhere!!! Cucci Momma thought as she hauled ass down the streets of Staten Island wearing a designer skirt and heels.
In the confusion of smoking gats and flying bullets there had been one thing on her mind and one thing only: Get that fuckin diamond and get the fuck up outta there!
Cucci was the mistress of forked tongues and it was a good thing she knew a lie when she heard one. Wasn’t no way in hell a white FBI mothafucka would leave a hood nigga outside holding a fifty-million dollar jewel! No fuckin way!
With her senses on high alert Cucci had pounced on the white FBI dude almost as soon as his dead body hit the ground. While Ice Pick and his dumb fuckers were busy ducking and shooting and trying not to get ripped, Cucci had risked her life by going for the rock!
Ignoring the blood and brain goo that was all over the corpse, she had straddled the white boy’s body like she was about to ride his pale lil dick to town. But instead of giving him some more of that good shit he had gotten in his car outside of the hair show, Cucci had attacked all his fuckin pockets, rifling through them shits until she found what she was searching for.
It was in his pants, pushed down deep in the right front pocket. Quick as hell she had snatched that shit out and shoved it way down in her bra and wedged it between her fat titties. With guns popping off in all directions, Cucci had low-crawled toward the side of the warehouse and hugged the wall. Instincts told her to get far, far away from Goody and his crew, so she jetted blindly, going deeper into the warehouse.
She was crawling on her hands and knees with her skirt hiked up over her hips when an old Puerto Rican maintenance man dressed in coveralls spotted her.
“Senorita! Aqui!” he hollered.
A sub-machine gun was spitting hot lead and Cucci didn’t know what the hell to do. She froze helplessly as the grease monkey mechanic snatched her by the arm and practically dragged her through a grimy kitchen and out of a propped-open side door.
Her and dude had taken off running down the long alley in opposite directions, and now, walking furiously fast, Cucci was making her way toward a big crowd of people who were heading toward the Staten Island Ferry.
It took her a moment to realize that she had lost her damn purse back there in the warehouse, but she wasn’t giving a single damn. She knew if she could make it across the river to Manhattan then she could lay low for a minute and figure out her next move.
Switching her bouncy ass without even meaning to, Cucci moved as fast as she could in her high heels and mid-thigh skirt. Every few seconds she stole a glance over her shoulder to make sure that the Chinese cat with the sub-machine gun wasn’t sneaking up behind her. The last time she had seen him was that day he yoked Honore up at the job, and he had shocked the pure shit outta her when he jumped down from the ceiling and started spraying them niggas like roaches with his rat-a-tat-tat toolie.
Cucci was nearing the end of the alley when she peeked back over her shoulder one more time. And that’s when she saw the cop. He was beating feet down the alley, fumbling with his pants and coming straight at her.
“Hey you! Stop right fucking there!”
Cucci took off running like fuck in her silver high heels.
She pumped her knees until they damn near hit her chest as she jetted like a pack of wild pit bulls was nipping at her ass.
“Stop right now or I’ll shoot! I swear to God I’ll shoot you, you stupid black bitch!”
Cucci was in pure panic mode as she scurried around the corner and down a busy street. The first store she came to was a bakery and she ducked inside. Hiding behind a fat old man she peered out the glass and watched the cop rush by. His head turned left and right as he scanned the crowd searching for her.
Cucci’s heart pounded in her chest as she ducked deeper into the store. She hid the best way she could, using the white people who were crowded in the joint as a shield. She was breathing real hard and their uppity white asses was staring at her all funny as she pushed past knocking the hell outta them, but Cucci didn’t give a fuck. The smell of warm cake slid up her nose and then the front door opened a gust of cool air swept into the store and touched her legs. She looked down at herself and cursed.
Shit!
No wonder these snooty-ass white people were grilling her so hard. She looked like a goddamn grease monkey! Her pale pink stockings were ripped and covered in black gunk from crawling all over the floor of the maintenance warehouse. Oil stains covered her pink and gray plaid Dior skirt and the front of her gray silk shirt too.
Cucci pushed her way back outside again and froze in the doorway. She crooked her neck and scanned up and down the street, and since the coast seemed clear she blended back into the milling crowd once again.
Get it together Cucci Momma! she amped herself up. She was almost there. All she had to do was make it to the corner, cross the street, and then go one more block until she was at the Ferry. She would get a ticket real quick and then run and hide in the bathroom until it was time for the next boat to leave. And when it pulled out into that water she was gonna jump on that bitch and lock herself in a bathroom until they hit the Manhattan side of the New York Harbor.
With her plan firming up in her head, Cucci had just hit the corner and jetted across the street, and that’s when she heard the unmistakable “bleep-bleep-bleep” of a police siren rolling up behind her.
Shit! Wasn’t no need to look over her shoulder because Cucci knew what time it was. With panic rising up i
n her throat she broke the fuck out once again.
She kicked off her designer heels and darted through the crowd as she dug for the tiny jewelry box that was wedged between her titties.
Cucci got that shit out as she ran, and without breaking her stride she pried the box open and snatched the gorgeous pink gemstone out, then stuck it in her mouth and tossed the box over her shoulder.
“Hey you!” Somebody yelled out behind her with firm authority. “Stop right there! Stop goddammit and give it up!”
Damn! The cop had some back-up po-po rolling with him now, and although Cucci glanced over her shoulder real quick, she never broke her stride. It was on and popping as she ran like a track star. Fuck the stupid shit. She wasn’t giving up shit! Them mothafuckas was gonna have to catch her!
Cucci ran like crazy down the walkway of the pier. She did her best to stay parallel to the shoreline and she knocked people outta her way left and right as the sound of rushing footsteps closed in behind her.
Cucci ran fast as fuck, but the men behind her were even faster. Sheer desperation set in when she realized she wasn’t gonna make it. Them bastards were so far up her ass and so hot on her neck that she could already smell their stankin baloney breath.
Suddenly two of them leaped forward and tackled her from behind. Cucci yelped as she was slammed into the pavement so hard the air left her lungs and the pink diamond went flying straight outta her mouth!
Crawling for it, she stuffed that shit back between her lips and slid it under her tongue and clenched her jaws tight.
The first cop jerked her arm behind her back and chicken winged that shit up to her neck as he scrambled to get the cuffs on her. Cucci twisted and turned and donkey-kicked backward and caught him flush in his soft little nuts. He grunted and reached for his dick, and Cucci came up off the ground running like she was a prime racehorse.
She beat feet in her designer skirt like she was running for her life. Her eyes searched for an escape route, but desperation gripped her when she saw there was no place left to run except straight into the filthy-ass freezing cold river.