The Day the Streets Stood Still

by JaQuavis Coleman

  “Beg for it,” Faheem hissed, his accent thick.

  “Mmm mmm,” Sunny moaned, refusing his commands. She knew what would happen if she playfully refused. “I don’t want it,” she groaned out sexily.

  “Oh so you wanna be a rude gyal. You don’t wan’ to beg for it, huh?” Faheem grumbled getting up onto his knees. Sunny chuckled drunkenly as he threw her down on the bed forcefully.

  “You take me for a joke?” Faheem huffed, dick in hand. “Joke me a joke?” he gritted with that Jamaica patois Sunny loved. Then he rammed his dick into Sunny’s dripping hotbox from behind with the force of a wrecking ball.

  “Ow!” Sunny hollered out clutching handfuls of his Egyptian cotton sheets. Faheem plowed into her from the back with no mercy. The loud clap of their skin slapping together filled the room. Sunny could feel him so far into her that his balls here hitting up against her clit from the back. The slight touches from his hairy beanbags were driving her insane with lust.

  “Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” Sunny yelled out. She loved it when he gave it to her rough sometimes. Faheem was so much fun to be around and his bedroom work had her head completely gone. Sunny wanted to be with him every minute of every day. She had left her mother’s house without looking back and recently Faheem had cut her visits with Sean all together. Sunny felt like all she needed was Faheem to make her complete.

  “Agggh!” Faheem screamed as he reached orgasm. Sunny followed with an intense cum of her own. They both collapsed onto the bed. Sunny rolled onto her side and drew her legs up to her chest. Faheem was so good in bed he often made her curl into a fetal position afterward. He looked over at her beautiful form and smiled to himself. He sat up on his side of the bed and pulled out a small glass mirror. He started chopping his heroin up to get it ready.

  “Aye, gyal . . . you wanna try this?” Faheem asked Sunny for the fiftieth time since they had started dating. She didn’t even have to look over to know what he was talking about. Sunny had watched Faheem snort heroin on numerous occasions.

  “My answer is still the same . . . no, I don’t wanna try it,” Sunny slurred, closing her eyes as she listened to Faheem snort like a pig. She wasn’t that drunk.

  Once Faheem fell back onto the bed, she knew he was gone off the heroin. His eyes were closed and a satisfied smile curled on his lips. Sunny was curious, but she had still resisted the urge to try something as hardcore as heroin.

  Sunny eased out of the bed on wobbly legs, grabbed her cell phone and went into the bathroom.

  She sat on the toilet and while she relieved her full bladder, she scrolled through her missed calls—all from Sean. Sunny snapped her phone shut and rolled her eyes. She knew calling Sean now would just lead to a bunch of questions about where she’s been staying and what she’s been doing and why she don’t call him and did she go back to school and what is she planning to do with her life . . . blah, blah, blah. She wasn’t in the mood for his protective brother/father role right now. Sunny admitted to herself that she missed Sean, but she wasn’t going to call him back and tell him that or let Faheem know.

  “I’m grown. I don’t have to explain nothing to nobody so you might as well stop fucking calling me. I’ll call you when I’m ready,” Sunny said out loud like Sean was standing right in front of her.

  “Yo, King Sean, don’t let them do me like this man. I . . . I . . . I’m gon’ get your paper . . . I swear, man. Just don’t let them do me like this,” an overweight, dark-skinned dude name Boogie begged as he tried to use his hands to cover his naked body.

  Sean sat calmly, eyeing the groveling mess of a man in front of him. He despised weak men and Boogie looked like a real female at that moment. Sean looked on serenely; he prided himself on being cool under pressure and never getting his hands dirty. Sean’s number one henchman, Beans, stepped closer to Boogie with an evil glint shining in his eyes.

  “Listen, nigga, King Sean is the only m’fucka on these streets frontin’ niggas grams and for half the price of that bullshit y’all was buying that been stepped on a million times and you can’t have the king’s paper when you supposed to?” Beans growled, so close to Boogie’s face the heat of Beans’s breath threatened to singe the hairs in Boogies nostrils. “You beggin’ now but was you thinking about the king when you was stealing?” Beans spat. Then he drove his bare knuckles into Boogie’s fat face, busting his nose, resulting in a stream of blood that seemingly would not stop.

  “King Sean took a risk on you, just like he did with the whole city, yet you the only nigga that never pay the king on pay up day and rumor has it you back door dealing, too. So you tell me, as a king, how King Sean supposed to take that? The way we see it, it’s like treason ’n’ shit,” Beans growled, looking around at his cronies for agreement.

  Beans was young and fearless and although Sean was only two years older than Beans, Sean saw himself in Beans a lot of the times.

  All of Sean’s other crewmembers mumbled their agreement as well. Sean didn’t say a word; instead, he inhaled the long toke he’d take from his cigar. He was not fazed by the pure, unadulterated violence taking place a few feet in front of him. Sean was into sending messages by any means necessary.

  “You think you deserve another m’fuckin’ chance to do the same thing again?” Beans asked through his teeth as he grabbed the fat dude’s face roughly so he could look the dude in his eyes. “Kings behead traitors who commit treason, nigga, so I guess you know your fate,” Beans gritted, releasing the slobbering dude with a shove. Beans had something to prove to Sean if he wanted to move even closer to his boss, so this was the perfect opportunity.

  “Please, King Sean! Please! I’m sorry,” the fat dude cried looking over at Sean as he cried for mercy. Sean didn’t even flinch, blink, or say a word. He seemed bored with the crying and begging show the traitor was putting on.

  “We heard you been making side deals with somebody else who is stepping on our territory. We also heard you gave them permission to step on that territory at that . . .” Beans hissed, while Freddie and Ak, two of Sean’s other crew members, pulled Boogie’s arms so far behind him his shoulders bulged and popped.

  “Agghh . . . nah, man!” Boogie cried out. “I would do that, man! I wouldn’t do that!

  Beans let out a long breath, his face turned up as he circled like a hawk. He knew Boogie was lying and it was making the heat of anger rise into his chest. Beans signaled for Bo, one of Sean’s younger flunkies to bring him a machine that was sitting in the corner. The young kid jumped into action and retrieved a handheld machine with a round sandpaper wheel on the front of it. Boogie’s already bulging eyes grew even wider when he noticed that his tormentor had a car sandblaster that was used to take paint off of cars in his hand and heading straight for him.

  “Please! Please!” Boogie screeched as urine splashed from his bladder and his knees began knocking together. It was too late for all of that; Beans snatched the tool from the young kid.

  “Now you gon’ tell the truth?” Beans snarled as he drove the sandblaster right into Boogie’s chest immediately stripping away a few layers of his skin. “Agggghh!” Boogie screamed so hard and loud that eventually his mouth just hung open until he couldn’t produce any more sound. His body jerked violently from the pain and shock starting to take over his senses.

  “Now, we gon’ ask you again. Who the fuck you working with on our blocks?” Beans asked, the bloodied machine out in front of him menacingly. The heavy scent of his victim’s seared flesh and freshly drawn blood was fueling Beans’s crazy psyche.

  Sean had enlisted him as his closest associate because of Beans’s penchant for violence and this was just a prime example of what the kid was capable of.

  “’Cause you ain’t smart enough to be doing it on your own nigga!”

  Boogie hung his head and slobber dribbled from his mouth. Ty, another one of Sean’s men, rushed over and roughly lifted Boogie’s downturned head. Just for the hell of it, Ty drove his fist across Boogie’s already
broken and severely swollen face.

  “Who is it, m’fucker? Who dares to fuck with King Sean? Huh? Huh?” Ty barked. He really just wanted in on the action. He was another loose cannon that Sean was happy to have on his team. Ty was older than Sean, but never dared to show anything but respect for his younger boss.

  “B . . . B . . .” Boogie muttered through his battered lips, a long line of spit and blood dangling from his lips.

  “Say the name, nigga?” Beans growled with a sinister snarl on his lips as he powered the sandblaster back on again.

  “B . . . B . . . B . . . G . . . G . . . it’s BG,” the fat dude blurted barely above a whisper.

  “Who? BG? What the fuck is you saying, nigga?” Beans asked.

  “BG! It’s BG! Just please,” Boogie begged, more bloody slob bubbling from his mouth. “BG made the side deal,” he said barely above a whisper.

  “Who the fuck is BG?” Beans and Ty said at the same time. Sean didn’t say a word, but his squinted eyes and squared jaw said enough.

  Everyone in the room seemed to contemplate the question. Who would be bold enough to step on the toes of King Sean?

  Sean didn’t say a word during Boogie’s torture, but when Sean finally heard that someone named BG was violating his spots in the streets, he was all ears. Calmly Sean stood up and got ready to exit the building. He looked at all of his men in one long eye scan around the room. His face remained stony.

  “Find out who BG is. Then find out where he rest at and everything else about him. Take your time. Be smart, because obviously this nigga BG thinks he’s smarter,” Sean gritted, fighting to keep the anger welling up inside of him under wraps.

  Two weeks after the name BG came up, Sean sat at the end of the beautiful lacquer conference table in the conference room above his new boxing gym, where he usually discreetly conducted his business. Sean sat calmly, smoking a cigar, a new habit he had picked up in homage to Fox. Sean was patiently waiting for his men to report back to him what they’d found out about BG.

  “From what we peeped whoever this nigga BG is, he sends a bitch, who drives a white Benz CLS with license plates that say BG to his spots to pick up his paper,” Beans spoke up.

  “She’s a bad bitch, too. Must be his lady. Sexy as hell though,” Ty chimed in, his tone a little too excited and hype for Sean’s liking. “She usually has a car full of dudes following her pretty ass. But they look like lame-ass wannabe thugs anyway. Whoever BG is, I could tell he a lame.”

  Sean took a long toke on his cigar and blew the smoke out slowly. Contemplating what he was being told, Sean finally looked down at his sparkly diamond pinky ring. He stared at the blindingly shiny diamonds as he always did when he was thinking hard. The information he was getting just wasn’t sitting right with him. Any real hustler wasn’t going to send his lady to risk herself picking up his paper unless he was locked up or in some other predicament where he didn’t trust his street soldiers.

  “Y’all sure y’all got the right info? How y’all know the bitch is picking up?” Sean asked, his voice slow and steady.

  “You can see here yourself,” Beans said like he already knew Sean would be skeptical. “She’s like clockwork most of the time,” Beans continued, sliding some pictures across the conference table. Sean looked down and squinted at the photographs. He was having a hard time keeping a poker face at that moment.

  Damn! he said to himself while fighting to keep his visible reaction even and unfazed. Sean didn’t lift the picture, but he could see her as clear as day. The woman in the pictures was beautiful to say the least. She was the color of a Hershey’s chocolate bar; her eyes were covered in oversized shades but that didn’t keep Sean from seeing that her eyebrows were perfectly arched. She had a slim nose, high cheekbones and thick full lips that were painted with a deep burgundy lipstick. She wore her hair long and silky with a perfectly cut bang covering one of her eyes. It was probably a high-priced weave, but it was perfectly styled nonetheless. From what Sean could see in the picture, the woman’s clothes screamed designer and appeared expensive as she donned a short mink vest, a gleaming white shirt that hugged and pushed her breasts up at the same time, and a pair of close-fitting, destroyed jeans that accentuated her round, wide hips. The woman in the picture reminded Sean of a black actress or one of those reality show chicks. Flawless—was the word that came to mind as Sean surveyed the pictures one more time.

  Yeah, she gotta be a hustler’s wife, Sean told himself. He wanted to know more about her and this dude BG she was riding for. Sean took one last look at her and decided that woman in the picture seemed like an easy enough target.

  “I guess to get to the man we will have to get his lady . . . grab her . . . I want to have a talk with her,” Sean said coolly. His men knew exactly what that meant.

  Chapter Seven

  Sunny’s speech was slurred, her eyes were rolling around uncontrollably and she kept laughing at nothing in particular. She was so drunk out of her mind after a night of heavy partying, that when Faheem introduced a girl named Lucky, Sunny smiled and made kissy faces at the beautiful, blue-eyed, statuesque white girl.

  “Damn she look like a broke version of Angelina Jolie,” Sunny hiccupped and laughed, her half-opened eyes moving up and down over Lucky.

  “Lucky gettin’ down with us tonight,” Faheem announced like it was something normal for him to say. Sunny just smiled lazily and laughed some more.

  “She gettin’ down with who? You? Me?” Sunny slurred, her eyes rolling around like she couldn’t control them. Sunny had never been as gone off liquor as she was that night, but she would’ve also never guessed that Faheem would slip anything into her drink either.

  “I like men with dreads and big dicks . . . you know . . . like you,” Sunny garbled, running her hands through Faheem’s newly growing dreads. “I like dick . . . your dick,” Sunny went on, sticking her tongue out sloppily. Faheem wasn’t budging. His face was flat and stony, unmoved by Sunny’s advances.

  “Get up off ya ass and give me a show. Both of y’all, I wanna see y’all together,” Faheem said, directing Sunny and Lucky with hand movements.

  “Don’t make me say it again,” Faheem said bending his head down over the small mirror on his nightstand and inhaling a line of his poison of choice. Lucky sauntered over to where Faheem stood and followed his lead. She was a pro at sniffing H just like Faheem; in fact, that’s how he’d met her: through their shared heroin connect.

  Once the drugs hit Lucky’s system her body seemed to relax, her mouth went slack and a sinister grin cropped up on lips. She threw her head back seductively and fell down to her knees. Lucky whipped her hair around and around, then got down on all fours and crawled toward Sunny like a hungry lion going to eat a smaller helpless prey.

  “Open ya legs for her, gyal,” Faheem demanded with dick in hand. He slapped Sunny on her right thigh. “Ya hear me? Open ya legs!” Faheem insisted again. Sunny laughed like a silly kid and stuck her tongue out tauntingly.

  “I’m not no fucking lesbian,” she slurred, her words barely understandable. “I don’t fuck girls, you . . . ass . . . asshole.” Sunny struggled to get her words out straight, her tongue clucking on the roof of her mouth with every syllable. She was twisted out of her mind, but still had enough sense to know that she wasn’t trying to have lesbian sex with another woman.

  “Open ya fuckin’ legs now or get the fuck out of me house! You act like ya can’t do nothing . . . laying around all day . . . and partying all night. I’m feeding you, clothing you, and dealing with ya bullshit. You think ya pussy alone can satisfy me? Eh? Nah . . . fuck that . . . I want some fun and you will give it or get the fuck out. Go back home and suck that old, fat nigga’s dick like you did all ya life,” Faheem boomed cruelly, his face drawn tightly into a monstrous grimace. Sunny threw her hands over her ears and fought the tears welling up behind her eyes. Even completely, sloppy drunk, she understood the cruelty of Faheem’s words and they had landed like hard slaps to her face
. Sunny had never heard him speak to her like that, but lately, she could tell that he had been getting frustrated with her resistance to some of his sexual requests and had become increasingly mean toward her.

  Even completely inebriated, Sunny understood that if she didn’t bend to his will and Faheem threw her out she’d be forced back home or worse, forced to call Sean to save her, which would also come with his “I told ya so” speech.

  “Do it now, gyal, or get the fuck gone from me,” Faheem spat, sniffing another line of heroin.

  Sunny closed her eyes and reluctantly let her legs fall open. Just as she did; Lucky buried her face between them like a hungry dog. Lucky didn’t care about putting on a show, so long as there was heroin as a reward at the end of it. At first, Sunny was tense, but once Lucky drove her warm, wet tongue deep into Sunny’s middle, Sunny opened her legs wider, closed her eyes tighter and began grinding her hips toward the hungry girl’s mouth.

  “Ssss, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” Faheem hissed as he stroked his growing member. He dropped his pants down around his ankles and got behind Lucky, who was on her knees lapping away at Sunny’s clit. Faheem let a glob of his spit fall from his mouth and land between the crack of Lucky’s ample behind. He then took the head of his manhood and swiped it up and down her crack, making sure the area was wet enough for an easy entrance.

  “I know what you white gyals like,” Faheem said, his accent thick as he forced his pulsing rod deep into Lucky’s semi-loose anal cavity. Lucky let out a whimper, but she knew at the end of that pain would be more heroin for her so she took Faheem’s swollen inches like a champ. Faheem banged into her from behind like he was a dog in heat. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room and the musty, acrid smell of body fluids and hot, deviant sex wafted around.

  Sunny was thrusting her hips harder and faster now as Lucky reached up and pinched Sunny’s nipples between her fingers while simultaneously sucking and putting pressure on Sunny’s pink, swollen clitoris.