by Noire
Cucci Momma Jones wasn’t nobody’s punk. She was a real down bitch, and desperate times called for desperate measures. So with a fitty-million-dollar diamond tucked under her tongue and no other escape in sight, Cucci said fuck it and took the plunge.
$$$$$
Open your mouth…breathe, dammit! Open your mouth, open your mouth, open your mouth, open your mouth!
Cucci was straight outta the projects and she couldn’t swim a lick. Trapped in a cold, watery grave she held her breath and kicked her feet and flailed her arms all around. She could hear them po-po pigs screaming at her and telling her to open her mouth and breathe, but the water was cold as fuck and she was drowning!
Open your mouth, open your mouth, open your mouth, bitch open your muthafuckin mouth and breathe!
Cucci’s eyes were squeezed shut, her cheeks were puffed out like a blow fish, and her lungs felt like they were gonna burst. Stubbornly she arched her back and started sinking. She was getting weaker and her body was starving for air. She wanted to breathe! She wanted to live! She wanted to be rich! She wanted that fuckin diamond!
All her oxygen was just about gone and Cucci Momma was at the end of her rope when she felt hands grasping at her and dragging her up through the icy water. Gratitude rushed over her as she kicked her feet frantically and anticipated that first sweet sip of air.
Her heart was banging louder than everything else in the whole goddamn universe. Her face finally broke through the water and Cucci opened her greedy lips preparing to suck in that precious hit of life-sustaining oxygen. But before she could inhale it the stupid-ass cop snatched her by the back of her shirt and smacked the living shit outta her.
“Stand up you dumb bitch!” he hollered as Cucci coughed and choked and snotted water all through her nose. She pressed down with her feet and to her surprise they were in shallow water that was barely up to her neck. The red-faced cop was mad as hell.
“Fuck is wrong with you? Making me jump in here and get my shit wet! Your ass wanna drink this shit?” He palmed the back of her head and smacked her face right back down into the water again and pushed her head under so deep that her feet rose up behind her.
Cucci really panicked this time. This mothafucka was tryna drown her! Icy river water rushed straight up her goddamn nose. Gasping for air with her face pressed damn near down to the bottom and her eyeballs bulging outta their sockets, Cucci heard trumpets and she saw stars. White lightening struck deep in her brain and she fought like a lion to suck in a gulp of cool precious air.
She bucked hard against the cop, arching her back as she clawed toward the surface, but he gripped her neck and held her down firmly.
Feeling death coming for her, Cucci opened her mouth big and wide, letting a cold rush of river water in. And that’s when the beautiful pink diamond slipped past her lips, became one with the river, and floated right away.
CHAPTER 10
Get Right or Get Left
While her cousin Cucci damn-near drowned in the cold waters off the New York Harbor, Honore was riding an exciting wave of high hopes.
Benny the Don had provided two commercial vans for their use today, and they were heading out to put in some work. A young cat named Quest and three more of Sly McFly’s gunners were riding in the second van. Honore, Avi, Sly McFly, and Chimp Charlie were riding point in the front van and taking the lead.
The time had finally arrived for the big payday. They rode in silence and each of them were well aware that this once-in-a-lifetime hit would determine whether they would spend the rest of their natural lives relaxing in the lap of luxury or whether they’d all grow old making little rocks outta big rocks in the state pen.
“Y’all mothafuckas better wake up and look alive back there!” Sly said from the front seat as he sipped on a cold one he held gripped between his thighs. “It ain’t no turning back now, my niggas! If you having second thoughts just slide ya damn door open and roll yo ass out in the street while the rest of us keep it moving. Other than that, everybody best be on they toes. Avi, I’m about to make your scary ass a rich muthafucka, baby!”
“Fuck you,” Avi said playfully. “Without me your team would still be peddling shitty little ice chips all around the city. Scary people don’t last in this game. The smart ones do. And I’m one of the smart ones, Mister McFly.”
The group shared a nervous but good chuckle that was definitely needed. In the back of all their minds was some deep-seated fear, but they hid that shit behind faces of stone cold bravery. There were no guarantees in this business and danger was a big part of everything they did. After a while it became just as much about the rush as it was about the cash.
“So what happened to your friend?” Honore asked Avi. “That white boy. He didn’t look like the type who digs getting dished off.”
“I don’t know,” Avi said as a troubled look crossed his face. “I didn’t ditch him. That fucking demon just never showed up this morning. Thank God.”
“Good,” Honore said with a smirk. “There was something about his eyes that gave me the creeps any damn way. I swear I seen his ass somewhere before.”
“He really was a creep,” Avi admitted. “And a cold-blooded killer too. I never wanted him involved, you know. He muscled his way in on me and threatened my sons. I don’t know why he didn’t show up today, but I sure don’t miss him.”
“I feel ya,” Honore responded. “We had some asshole who called himself muscling in on our piece of the action too but—”
“But guess the fuck what?” Sly laughed as he cut Honore off. “We sent that slant-eyed chink on a wild goose chase. He’s heading to the Sotheby to hook up with us after the auction. The greedy cat-killing sucka! No free wontons over this way, playa! Fuck ’em and feed ’em beans!”
“Yup,” Honore giggled. “By the time his stupid ass realizes we ain’t showing up the auction will be over and we’ll be ghost. We’ll be way outta the country and laughing all the way to some foreign bank!”
“Damn, right! To the bank!” Sly McFly lifted his cold brew in the air and toasted from the front seat.
“Yes,” Avi said, grinning and visibly relaxing. “To the bank.”
CHAPTER 11
The Price of Betrayal
With Wild Man posted up behind the wheel of the Brinks truck Slick was riding shotgun and fuming fuckin mad.
Whitey? Whitey! Whitey!!!!
“That backstabbing crab-ass snake!” Slick spit as they sped down the streets of Staten Island. His guilt and remorse over Jewelz was a real close match to his shock and disbelief over Whitey’s deception and betrayal.
That white nigga had straight up played him. The sight of his former bro putting Jewelz in a head-lock and pistol-whipping the shit outta her had truly fucked Slick up. That shit seemed unreal. Like he had dreamt the whole thing up.
Puttin his filthy fuckin paws on my lady?
This shit was inconceivable. Him and Whitey went way back! Whitey was the one who had gotten him outta the Devil’s Asshole and turned him on to the murder game! The two of them had fought mad battles together, side-by-fuckin-side, and if it wasn’t for Whitey’s good-looking-out then Slick woulda still been locked up in the dungeon of a cold military jail.
“Damn! How the fuck did that bitch nigga catch me sleepin like that? How in the fuck did he catch me so blinded? He was lining me up the whole fuckin time! He was the one who killed my birds and murked old lady Maddie Taylor in my building!”
“Yo, that pussy was a straight rat!” Wild Man spit bitterly as him and Slick filled each other in on everything that had been going down. Wild Man had stripped Whitey’s dead body down to his silk drawers, and for the second time that day the blue Brink’s monkey suit was being worn by someone other than the owner.
Slick shook his head. “He was a back-biting bitch! But yo, how the fuck did you end up at that warehouse today, yo? What made you just show up outta nowhere strapped up like that? You had the scoop on Whitey’s fake ass too or what?”
&
nbsp; Wild Man snorted as he whipped the wheel and handled the heavy armored truck like it was a luxury Maybach.
“Fuck yeah I peeped him! He was a turn-coat! A slimeball! I got up on his hustle not too long after Noodles got murked,” Wild Man said. “Noodles took a hidden camera with him up to Westchester, bruh. I got my cousin to download the film so I could see what he went up there looking for. I wanted to tell you what I saw right away but you was on some other shit…”
“What was on that camera?” Slick demanded.
Wild Man steered the truck around a sharp corner and shook his head in disgust.
“Yo, every fuckin thing was on there, son! Everything. Noodles had the goods on that grimy scab Whitey and on ya shawty Honore! Did you know that thot was the Queen of Diamonds and the Monkey with the Red Briefcase too?”
“Say word nigga?” Slick said as he grimaced. “Bruh how the fuck could I lack so hard on that shit? I swear I slept like a corpse on that bitch. I slept like I was dead!”
“That’s why you shoulda fuckin listened to me!” Wild Man bitched. “You was on one and couldn’t nobody tell you shit, fam! Honore and Whitey was under the sheets together. The two of them were scheming up on that diamond too, yo! Them rodents was getting down dirty together and gunning for it, son. I knew something was shitty as soon as I watched the film because there was no way Whitey shoulda even been around that bitch and her click. None!
“So I stuck a tracker up Whitey’s ass. I started hounding that cat, following him around. Trust me, wasn’t no crew-love never in that shady white boy’s heart! What I saw on that film proved it. And that’s why I knocked his roof backwards and zipped him up.”
Slick grunted and slowly shook his head, feeling like a true chump. “Noodles knew, man. He fuckin knew. My ass been on some eyes-wide-shut shit, homey. Blind as a bat to the facts. And I can’t even front,” he admitted shamefully. “Jewelz tried to put me on to Honore too, but I wasn’t tryna hear it. That chick was gassing me the whole time, yo. But one day I’ma deal with that scheming slut. On God, I am. I put that on everything I love.”
“Fuck her!” Wild Man said waving him off. He wasn’t about to admit that he had gotten caught up in Honore’s powerful pussy trap too. Shit, Slick wasn’t the only one who had taken a nosedive between that bitch’s legs. Wild Man had murdered the cat that Honore had sent to kill him, and yet he still woulda got deep up in them guts again if given the opportunity.
Wild Man shrugged. “Now ain’t the time to be worrying about that smut! We got a lot more work to put in, baby. Goody’s gang ain’t the only ones tryna get they hands on that ice. Honore and her click are breathing all over that Pink Lady diamond. They planning to yap that shit too. They’re gonna gun for it after it gets sold at the Sotheby museum. They prolly heading there to get in position right now.”
Slick’s eyebrow went up. “So what, they tryna rush the auction spot?”
Wild Man nodded. “Hell yeah. Honore is one of the biggest diamond thieves in New York and she’s running with a thugged-out old head who’s backing her up and orchestrating all her moves. They gonna wait until that shine gets sold to a buyer at the auction and then they gonna pounce on ’em and snatch that shit up.”
“Word?” Slick’s eyes narrowed. “Well I got some hot shit for both of them rats. Yo,” he patted his pants, “I got a fitty million dollar diamond chillin in my front pocket and I gotta stay on schedule cause I ain’t tryna raise no alarms.”
“What? You got the diamond on you, homey?” Wild Man’s eyes got big. “How the fuck could that be possible? Yo, how the fuck did you get your hands on that shit?”
“It’s a long story,” Slick said grinning. “And I’ma definitely hook you up and tear you off for saving Jewelz’s life. But first we gotta get this shit to the Sotheby’s if I’ma keep the Feds off my ass. You said Honore and them are gonna run down on the museum right after the auction, word?”
Wild Man nodded.
“A’ight, say dat. We gonna make sure a diamond gets delivered and fuckin let ’em.”
“No the fuck we not!” Wild Man bucked. “We ain’t giving that jump-off shit! Nah, man. We can’t let that type of paper get away from us. Fuck you mean?”
Slick laughed bitterly. “Here’s the deal, son. The diamond that Whitey was about to dish off to Handgun Goody was a clone, my nigga. It was a fake.
“Whitey put the pressure on the Jew who owned the Fulton Street store and forced him to make two copies of the Pink Lady diamond. One was supposed to go to Goody so he could give up Jewelz. We were gonna deliver the other one to the Sotheby museum so them cats wouldn’t sound no alarms, dig?”
Wild Man nodded and started grinning his ass off. “That’s how you finesse ’em, bruh! Y’all cats was pulling a bait-and-switch hustle so you could keep the real diamond in ya pocket, huh?”
“Damn straight,” Slick said, rubbing his hands together as his mind clicked full speed and his brain started to whir. With the fog of Honore’s pussy lifted from his head he was the leader of the pack again. He was back in his rightful place as the brains of the operation and he was ready to strike hard.
“Goddamn.” Wild Man laughed. “Whitey was a dirty bitch but dude was a genius, too.”
“Yeah he was. So fall back and keep ya cool, my nigga,” Slick told his ace as he gripped his heat. It was time to rock out ’cause there was ’bout to be some wildin on Staten Island.
“I got this shit, fam. Believe that.”
CHAPTER 12
Not Without Incident
They were cruising in the Brinks truck just three blocks over from Sotheby’s and it was looking like they were gonna arrive right on time to make their delivery. But as Wild Man drove around the corner on a one-way side street, Slick knew the sight that greeted them had the potential to fuck up all their plans.
Up ahead, two over-sized commercial concrete trucks had suddenly stopped in the middle of the narrow street, completely blocking their path.
“Fuckin traffic jam,” Wild Man muttered, but Slick shook his head as his eyes went on scan.
“Nah,” he said quietly as he peered into the side-view mirror and checked out the crowd of bumper-to-bumper cars packed in behind them. “This ain’t no fuckin traffic jam. It’s just a jam, my G. Somebody’s tryna jam us up.”
Slick turned around in his seat and quickly slid open the little window that separated the back compartment of the armored truck from the front. With the ease of an athlete he angled his body and climbed through. Then he snatched his gat outta his waistband and scrambled over to the back window. He looked out just in time to peep two dark-colored vans pulling up close enough behind them to prevent Wild Man from putting the armored truck in reverse and backing out of the street.
One van had the logo of a popular florist shop on the side, and the other one was covered in a colorful mural from a bakery.
“Ay, we got some company, bruh,” Slick said loudly as he stuck his gun back in his pants.
He peered out the back window again and made his decision. “Yo, I’m about to open up this door, homey. If they bust up in here you keep your head down and ya fuckin hands up high, but don’t let them take you outta this truck. I’ma do the same damn thing but if you hear shots poppin off then you know all bets are off.”
Slick had barely gotten his words out when the Brinks truck was surrounded by four masked assailants brandishing automatic weapons. He frowned as he peered at them through the window but he damn sure respected their hustle. It took a lotta balls to roll up and jam an armored truck in broad daylight, but the risk was an acceptable one because the Pink Lady diamond was worth a whole lot of doe.
Up front, Wild Man cut the engine but kept the keys in the ignition.
“Listen up goddammit!” a booming voice sounded instructions from outside. “You got five seconds to open that door or I’ll blow that bitch open! You know what we want, so give it up! I’m spraying armor-piercing bullets muthafucka, so if you wanna die over some shit that
don’t even belong to you then fuck around and be my guest!”
“Ay!” Wild Man hissed from the front seat. “That’s them! Yo, my nigga that’s them!”
“Who?” Slick said quickly. “Who the fuck is them?”
“That bitch Honore and the cats she’s rolling with! That’s Sly McFly barking orders out there!”
Slick peered out the window again and saw a woman sitting in the front seat of the bakery van. He couldn’t make out her face all that good but it damn sure looked like it was Honore sitting there watching the action go down.
Bitch! Slick muttered under his breath. Just the sight of her sent a bolt of rage through the pit of his stomach. He wanted that trick-hoe’s head and he wanted it bad.
He gripped his heat tight in his hand. The gangsta warrior in him wanted to gun it out even against the odds, but the trained assassin in him knew now wasn’t the right time. So quick as shit he emptied the contents of his pockets.
Slick took the jewelry box from his right pocket and slipped the real Pink Lady diamond out of its case, then he pushed the naked jewel back down deep in his pocket again.
Quick as shit he did a switcheroo and placed the fake fabricated diamond inside the jewelry box and arranged it on top of the satin cushion and snapped the box closed tight.
Gripping the jewelry box in his left hand, he cocked his strap just in case shit got crazy.
The tall man outside yelled, “Open the door, muthafucka or I’ma blast the shit outta that bitch!”
“Okay, okay!” Slick shrieked forcing fear into his voice. If he wanted to live he was gonna have to move fast. Brinks trucks were supposed to be bulletproof, but armor-piercing rounds would smash through the thick metal and through his head too.