Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 3

by J. M. Benjamin

  Dre saw this and wondered why his chick was smiling. That bitch set me the fuck up. She in on this shit, he thought.

  Shay followed Ke-Ke, stripping Bo naked, then Dre, and finally the dread. Within minutes, Treacherous was the only man in the room who was fully clothed. Ke-Ke handed the bag back to Treacherous loaded with money jewelry and weapons.

  “A’ight, you got the shit. Now, get the fuck outta here!” Dre snapped. Despite being completely naked and caught slipping, he attempted to maintain his boss status.

  “Nah, I said I wanted all of it. Everything! This ain’t everything, mu’fucka. Where’s the rest of it at?” Treacherous asked, aiming the gun at Dre who calmly took a sip from the Grey Goose bottle, ignoring the question.

  Treacherous snorted. “Oh, you wanna act stupid, nigga ? Well, let’s act stupid then.”

  He roughly snatched up the kid with the dreads and forced him to his knees. He, then, rammed the muzzle of the .40-caliber through the mass of hair until it hit skull.

  “What’s your name, chump?” Treacherous asked the kid, keeping his eyes on Dre the entire time.

  “K . . . Kyle,” the dude stammered, scared to death.

  “Well, Kyle, you in a fucked-up situation right about now ’cause ya man over there trying to hold out on me. Now, I’ma count to three, and if he don’t gimme the rest of the money, it’s gonna be ugly for you, my dude,” Treacherous informed him before he began his count.

  Kyle nervously looked over at Dre, who was unfazed by the scene.

  “One,” Treacherous began.

  “Yo! Give him the fuckin’ money, Dre,” Bo pleaded through his busted, bloody lips.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Dre barked, never taking his eyes off of Treacherous.

  “You don’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck. This ya manz, not mines,” Treacherous spewed.

  Dre said nothing.

  Treacherous shrugged his shoulders. “Two,” he called out.

  “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you?” Kyle cried out in fear. “Pay him! Give him the fuckin’ money, Dre!”

  Dre snickered and took another swig of the Grey Goose.

  “I suggest you listen to this man,” Treacherous advised, but Dre remained glued to his seat, refusing to back down. Treacherous pressed the gun even harder into Kyle’s skull.

  “Thr—”

  “Okay! Okay! I’ll give you the money! Please don’t shoot him! Please,” Shay screamed out. She had seen enough. Although she had seen people killed before, this was different. Kyle was her cousin, and she knew she would not be able to live with herself or face her favorite aunt if she had witnessed her cousin’s murder. She was convinced that Dre was going to let her cousin get killed over some money that was replaceable. She was glad she had paid attention when Dre handled his money in front of her.

  “Bitch! You down with this nigga,” Dre spat, stating it rather than asking.

  “No, nigga. I’m down with my cousin, who you was just about to let get killed over some fuckin’ money,” she spit back.

  “Go get the money, sweetheart,” Treacherous said, interrupting Dre and Shay’s conversation.

  Dre shot Shay a murderous ice grill that made her hesitate, but only for a second. She got up and made her way over to the closet. Within seconds, she was headed toward Treacherous with a Timberland box in her hands.

  “Open it up for me, sexy,” Treacherous instructed.

  The stacks of money and the brick of coke triggered a huge smile on Treacherous’s face. Unbelievable, cheap-ass mu’fucka don’t even have his shit in a safe, thought Treacherous. After making her dump all of it in the bag, Treacherous roughly shoved Shay onto the couch and placed the gun back on Kyle’s head.

  “That’s ya mans an’ ’em,” Treacherous slyly remarked.

  “What are you doing? He gave you the money,” Shay gasped.

  “No, he didn’t. He ain’t give me shit! You gave me the money. I see I gotta teach his tough ass a lesson ’cause he ain’t learned shit from this.”

  All eyes were on Treacherous now, waiting to see what he would do next. They didn’t have long to wait.

  Treacherous raised the gun, aimed, and squeezed. The first slug erupted out of the gun and struck the Grey Goose bottle that Dre was holding. It exploded upon impact, sending liquor and glass everywhere. Treacherous, then, sent a slug through the enormous flat-screen television, showering everybody with bits of glass. The shots were thunderous in the small room, drowning out the shouts and screams.

  Treacherous waved the gun around, making sure everybody got a chance to see the big, black hole that spit death. This caused panic and chaos in the room. The shots caused Dre to sober up. Where he was once so tough, he was now terrified. Instinctively, as a means of survival, he pulled Shay on top of him, using her as a shield. She screamed and protested, but Dre was too strong for her. Bo was curled up in the fetal position, whimpering and crying like a child. No one knew whether Treacherous was shooting to kill and was just a bad shot or intended to hit what he had. Either way, no one was willing to stand in the line of fire to find out.

  The caramel chick dove into the closet. Treacherous lowered the gun back on Kyle.

  “Who owns the green bike outside?” he asked Kyle.

  “That’s Dre’s,” he quickly replied.

  “I figured dat.” Treacherous chuckled. “Where the keys at?”

  Dre protested, “Nah, fuck dat! You ain’t takin’—”

  The shot that whizzed past his head was enough to silence him.

  “I’m not talkin’ to you, nigga. I’m talkin’ to Kyle. Say another muthafuckin’ word and the next one’s gonna be between your eyes!”

  “The keys are all hangin’ by the door,” Kyle blurted out.

  “Thanks, my man.”

  Then, all in one motion, Treacherous kicked Kyle forward and fired at the same time. Screams and yells could be heard as Treacherous backed out of the room and began jogging down the hall. He glanced at his watch. It read 1:46 a.m.

  “Shit,” Treacherous cursed to himself. The robbery had taken entirely too long. He was about to walk out of the house, when he spotted the motionless boy lying on the floor. Treacherous walked over to him and placed the spare key in his hand. Then, he snatched up every set of keys that were hanging where Kyle had told him. Once all the keys were in his hand, he hit the door and slipped outside, into the cool night air.

  Rather than making his way around the corner where he had parked the stolen motorcycle, Treacherous immediately located the key that belonged to the R1 and hopped on it. He knew at that point Dre and his crew were up and scrambling around the room, trying to get dressed. He figured they had probably just realized he hadn’t shot Kyle but rather shot the floor in between Kyle’s knees, giving the impression that he had shot him in the back. As Treacherous fired up the bike, he thought about the award-winning performance he had seen in there. His partner was something else. They both deserved Oscars for their acting.

  Treacherous made the Yamaha roar as he pulled off with rapid speed. Two blocks away, he imagined the look on Dre’s face when he discovered Red wasn’t dead and found the spare key he possessed in his hand.

  Chapter 31

  Andre Randle took another swig of his beer as he studied one of the files he had been fortunate enough to obtain. Thanks to a favor owed to him at his old precinct, he was able to get the entire criminal history on the parents of young Treacherous, as well as the father of Treacherous Sr. He had actually known the history of Teflon Jackson like he knew the back of his hand, but he wanted to know more about the males she had so willingly put her life and freedom on the line for.

  During his research, he discovered that her father was her mother’s pimp and that the two had killed one another. Thereafter, she resorted to a life of petty crime before hooking up with a known drug dealer who manipulated her into taking the rap for him. This landed her in the Norfolk Detention Center. He knew it was in there that she had met her son’s father and jo
ined him in a reign of terror throughout the Seven Cities, and God only knows where else they traveled. He also knew that the motive for her and her son’s grandfather hitting the armored car was to gain funds, so they could kidnap her son and disappear, but, thanks to him, that plan never got a chance to be carried out totally.

  Andre Randle shook his head as he read the rap sheets of both Richard “Richie Gunz” Robinson and Treacherous Freeman Sr. Ironically, both men’s records were similar. The only things Richard Robinson really had on his jacket had been as a juvenile. He had shot another kid and served a year in the youth house. Then, there was the bank he had been convicted of robbing as an adult. Prior to that, there was no real criminal history on him. Treacherous Freeman Sr.’s jacket consisted of weapons possession as a juvenile and, then, ultimately, as an adult, the robbing of the same bank his father had been convicted of robbing. Only, this time, murder was added to his short criminal record. As he studied the pattern of the two men, he couldn’t help but wonder if Treacherous Jr. intended to rob a bank himself.

  Andre Randle picked up a pen and jotted down the thought on a notepad with the rest of the notes he had written down. He finished the remainder of his beer. Then, he gathered all of the papers that were in disarray on the coffee table.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide forever, kid,” Andre Randle said aloud to himself.

  He, then, stood and made his way to the refrigerator. He grabbed another beer and popped the top. After chugging the beer down in just five gulps, he snatched up his car keys and headed out the door to his favorite bar.

  Chapter 32

  Treacherous woke to the sound of a hammer being cocked. When he opened his eyes, he was not surprised to see who the intruder was. Even though he hadn’t expected to see them so soon, he wondered how long it would be before they arrived. He remained still and stared down the barrel, which was pointed at his face.

  “Nigga, I should blow your fuckin’ head off,” the intruder chimed.

  “I don’t blame you. If I were you, I would shoot me too,” Treacherous replied.

  “I don’t wanna hear that shit,” the intruder spat. “Matter of fact, let me see your hands, you slick-ass nigga,” the intruder stated, grabbing a fistful of the sheet covering Treacherous’s body.

  The intruder was not surprised by what was seen when Treacherous’s body was uncovered.

  “Ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun, huh? Oh, excuse me, guns!” Treacherous sarcastically remarked, referring to the twin .40s he had pointing at the intruder.

  “Fuck you!” Baby dryly remarked, rolling her eyes.

  “What’s the matter with you? Did I hit you too hard back there or something?” Treacherous asked, thinking that the blow he had delivered back at Dre’s house may have been a little too extreme. He had thought the idea was too much when Baby suggested it, but she had convinced him it was necessary to keep the suspicion off of her. It was the first time he had ever hit her or any woman, for that matter, and he wasn’t sure if he could pull it off properly.

  “No, nigga, that shit didn’t faze me,” she clarified. “What bothered me was the way you were talkin’ to that bitch Shay!”

  The surprised look on Treacherous’s face told Baby he didn’t get it.

  “How the fuck you gonna call that bitch what you be calling me and talkin’ that ‘she sexy’ shit! You think that bitch sexy?”

  Treacherous just stood there, dumbfounded, shaking his head and smiling.

  “It’s not funny, Treach. You think that bitch’ll be sexy if I go blow her fuckin’ face off with the new shottie we just got?”

  “Calm down.” Treacherous reached for her.

  Baby pulled away and yelled, “No! I am calm! Don’t touch me! Go touch that bitch! You lucky I didn’t want to mess up the plan or else I would’ve jumped up and started shootin’ everybody up in that damn house, including you. Talkin’ about ‘thank you, sweetheart.’”

  After she finished her rant, Treacherous was grinning from ear to ear behind Baby’s jealousy. “Babe, come here,” he said, reaching for her for the second time. Again, she pulled away.

  “Man, come here!” This time, he leaned in and grabbed her forcefully and embraced her. She tried to protest, but his hug had melted her. There was no other place she felt safer than in his arms. Treacherous kissed her on top of her head.

  “Babe, you buggin’. You know you the only one for me. I love you, girl. You my rider and you’re crazy if you don’t know that,” Treacherous said, trying to reassure Baby.

  She looked up and stared Treacherous in the eyes. “I’m not buggin’. I love you too, but that was some disrespectful shit, talkin’ to her like that in front of me. Playing or not, job or not, I didn’t like it. You lucky you didn’t call her babe ’cause I would’ve fuckin’ lost it up in that bitch.”

  Treacherous squeezed her tighter. “I apologize for making you feel like that. You know I’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you. You all I got, babe. And all I want, too.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips. The first two kisses were short, but the third was deep. He parted her lips with his tongue and probed her mouth. Baby embraced the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck while standing on her tippy toes. Treacherous lowered his monstrous hands and cupped her ass. His kiss became more passionate as he palmed her cheeks.

  While still in a lip lock, he scrunched down and lifted Baby up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she massaged his clean-shaven head as if it were a crystal ball that could see the future. Treacherous spun her around and guided her to the king-sized bed. His sex sword had already risen to attention and was ready to be tended to. After last night’s rush, he couldn’t wait until his partner in crime made her way back home to him.

  Baby felt Treacherous’s dick brush up against her sex as he laid her on the bed. The brief encounter caused her clit to jump, adding moisture to her already throbbing pussy. She stared at him with lustful eyes. She undressed herself on the bed, while Treacherous relieved himself of his wife beater and boxer briefs, revealing his well-sculpted, almond-colored chest, shadowed six pack, and every inch of his length. She licked her lips as he moved in closer. Before he could make the next move, Baby had taken him into her mouth. Treacherous tossed his head back and placed his hands on the sides of Baby’s face as he moaned in ecstasy. Baby cupped his sack with her left hand while jerking him with her right and bobbing on three inches of the eight he possessed.

  The sounds of slurping, humming, moaning, and sucking filled the room, heightening Treacherous’s arousal. He loved the way Baby went down on him. It gets better each time, he thought as he looked down at her. By now, Baby was using both hands as if she were ringing out a washcloth, while popping the head of Treacherous’s hardness in and out of her mouth like her favorite lollipop.

  “Fuck!” he growled as Baby stuck out her tongue and smacked it with his dick. Then, all in one motion, she took his entire manhood into her mouth. She gagged the first two times as Treacherous’s helmet hit the back of her throat, but, once her tonsils relaxed, she expertly swallowed his entire eight inches in full. Treacherous clenched the bed sheets tightly while Baby displayed a phenomenal toe-curling performance. She cupped his sack as she came up off of his rock hard and ran her tongue up the length of his spine. Treacherous felt his juices building up as Baby tongue tickled his dick.

  “Babe, I feel it. That shit about to—”

  Before he could get the words out, Baby slipped him back into her mouth and vigorously attacked his manhood. Treacherous’s body became tense as he grabbed hold of Baby’s shoulder blades. Baby continued her breaststroke maneuver with her neck as she felt and tasted the warm juices of Treacherous’s smoking gun spewing into her mouth. She jerked his dick with her right hand while draining the remainder of his cum from the helmet with her lips. Treacherous stared down at her with satisfied eyes.

  “I fuckin’ love your ass. Can’t no other bitch ever replace you,” he stated
sincerely.

  “If she did, she’d be a dead bitch! I love your punk ass too, babe.”

  Baby slithered up into Treacherous’s embrace and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 33

  Detective George Parks tapped his knuckles on Detective Arthur Love’s office door before letting himself in. The young detective smiled when he saw Detective Love shaking his head.

  “What?” He laughed. “I knocked.”

  “I think you do that just to piss me off, Parks.” Detective Love smirked.

  “Now, why would I do that?” Detective Parks threw his hands up in the air.

  In all honesty, he, along with everybody else at the precinct, knew how much Detective Love hated for someone to enter his office without permission. It was a pet peeve of his that had gotten many of their colleagues cursed out, but Detective Parks knew he was the head detective’s favorite ever since he had aided him in cracking a murder case four years ago while still wet behind the ears and fresh out of the academy.

  It was the small piece of evidence everyone else had overlooked that Detective Parks had discovered that got the conviction to stick. Detective Love admired how Detective Parks had doubled back to the alleged killer’s mother’s house and questioned her. It was the alleged killer’s mother’s memo pad that had actually convicted her son. Thinking she was helping her son, believing him to be innocent, she told the detective about a note he had left her the day of the murder that she had thrown away weeks prior. She was sure the note would have put her son in the clear had she still possessed it. Detective Parks asked to see the memo pad. He took a No. 2 pencil and used the side of it to shade the page. It was then Detective Parks discovered the holes needed to poke in the convicted killer’s alibi. The killer had given specific times and locations of his whereabouts, but the indention of the note he had left for his mother, who had been at work while the crime was being committed, revealed the truth and conflicted his story. Detective Love found that to be genius detective work and had taken a liking to the twenty-four-year-old detective because of it.