by C. J. Hudson
“Yo’, hold up, my Turiq. I believe him,” Darnell said, having a sudden change of heart.
Turiq’s face turned to a mask of disbelief. “What? You believe him? Man, this nigga’s lyin’, fam.”
“Nah, he’s tellin’ the truth.”
“But I’m sayin’, I done blew him the kiss of death and everything,” Turiq said, practically begging to kill Pee Wee’s dumb ass.
“Put the gun away, my nigga. He’s giving us the real.”
Turiq frowned as he put his gun back on the seat. He hated stupid muthafuckas. Pee Wee, in his eyes, was a stupid muthafucka. He didn’t deserve to walk among the land of the living.
Darnell took out his phone and dialed a number. “Yo’, Lard. You and Duck come and get this piece of shit out of my whip.”
After disconnecting the call, Darnell stared so hard at Pee Wee, the young man nearly wet his pants. He jumped when the door opened, and Lard reached his large hands inside the truck. With one quick and powerful jerk, Lard snatched Detective Warren’s corpse out of it. Pee Wee’s eyes trailed Lard and Duck as they carried the body to Pee Wee’s car.
“Yo, man, why they takin’ that dead muthafucka to my ride?”
“Because, li’l nigga, I brought it over here. Yo’ ass is gonna transport it the rest of the way.”
“Uh, okay, boss, but where is it goin’?”
“You’ll find out when you get there. Now, get yo’ stupid ass outta my whip before I change my mind and let Turiq push yo’ shit in,” Darnell spat.
Pee Wee quickly got out of Darnell’s truck and headed toward his own car. It was a smoky-ray-colored BMW with tinted windows, a state-of-the-art sound system, and eight-inch televisions mounted in the headrests. Being a part of Darnell’s crew was the way to go if you aspired to be caked up.
“Yo, Duck, hold up, man. Don’t put that fuckin’ dead-ass cracka in the front seat.”
“Boss’s orders, nigga. You got a problem with it, take it up with Darnell.” After placing the body in the front seat, they both walked past Pee Wee and smirked.
“The fuck is so funny?” Pee Wee asked.
“Yo’ dumb ass,” Lard replied.
Pee Wee started to say something slick but wisely thought better of it. Lard wasn’t the one to fuck with. He was a six foot three, 295-pound mountain of muscle who routinely broke bones and snapped necks at Darnell’s command. He’d come to Darnell’s attention one evening while Darnell was watching the news. He watched amused as Lard manhandled nearly an entire police precinct. The overmatched officers had tried everything from Tasers to nightsticks, but it was no use. The raging Lard threw them all around like rag dolls. It took three hollow-point bullets to subdue the big man finally. After recovering from the gunshot wounds, Lard was immediately transported to Cuyahoga County jail. Booked with felonious assault and resisting arrest, Lard faced a steep uphill battle to beat the rap. His job as a bouncer wouldn’t come close to covering his legal fees.
That’s where Darnell stepped in. Not only did he pay Lard’s hospital bills, but he also provided him with a top-notch defense attorney. The powerful lawyer got the charges reduced to disorderly conduct. It didn’t hurt that Darnell had greased a few palms to make it happen. When Lard walked out of the courtroom, Darnell and Turiq were the only people there to greet him. After taking him to dinner, Darnell offered Lard a position in the crew. He’d been with them ever since.
Pissed off and disgusted about having to ride in the car with a corpse, Pee Wee jumped in the car and slammed the door.
“Nigga, stop slamming my door,” Duck said from the backseat.
“What? Nigga, this my damn car,” Pee Wee corrected him.
“Oh yeah, that’s right. This is yo’ piece o’ shit-ass whip.”
“Man, fuck you,” Pee Wee said, laughing.
Pee Wee and Duck were cool. They had always gotten along. But Pee Wee had gotten himself in a sticky situation, and there wasn’t anything Duck could do to get him out of it.
“But on some G shit, my nigga, you really need to be more careful about who you bring into the fold, playa. Ya feel me?”
“I feel you, dawg. I’m just glad Darnell gave me a pass on this shit. That fuckin’ lunatic-ass nigga Turiq acted like he really wanted to blast me over that shit.”
“Man, you know how that trigger-happy-ass nigga get. But what I wanna know about though, dawg, is that fine-ass broad we spotted coming outta ya spot tonight. That bitch got that good-good or nah?”
“Nigga, you have no fuckin’ idea. That bitch is a stone-cold freak,” he said, reaching over the seat to give Duck dap.
“Real talk, nigga?”
“Real muthafuckin’ talk, nigga.”
“Damn, my nigga, you oughta let ya’ boy hit that.”
“Well, she is a freak. Maybe we can tag team on the bitch. We gotta keep that shit on the low, though. She’s Paula’s best friend.”
“What? Yo’ bitch, Paula?”
Pee Wee nodded.
“Man, you’s about a foul-ass nigga, bro,” Duck said, laughing. “But on some more G shit, you oughta see if Darnell wanna smash.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I’m tellin’ you, fam, you shoulda saw the way he was staring at shorty when she came out of ya’ crib. That nigga was damn near droolin’.”
Pee Wee thought about it and nodded his head in agreement. Not only would it satisfy his sick, perverted, voyeuristic way of thinking, but it would also put him back in his boss’s good graces.
“You know what? I’m down wit’ that shit, man. I’m gonna call that bitch tomorrow and hook that shit up.”
Duck shook his head vigorously.
“Nah, man, you know Darnell ain’t wit’ that shit. We can probably run a train on that bitch, but the boss man probably wanna smash that shit solo.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Shit, nigga, I know I’m right. Give me her address, and I’ll text it to him.”
“Why? I can just text it to him myself.”
“My dude, Darnell already pissed with you right about now. He don’t wanna hear shit you got to say. It’s best if this shit comes from me.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Boss man is pretty salty at a nigga.”
“Here. Write her address down on this piece of paper, and I’ll give it to him.”
Pee Wee scribbled Flora’s address down and handed it to Duck, who, in turn, stuffed it into his pocket.
“Now, I was thinking my nigga, after this, we should—”
“What?” Pee Wee asked when Duck abruptly stopped talking.
“Darnell just texted me and said that he needed to holla at me right quick. Here, blaze this up. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Duck tossed a half-smoked blunt over the seat and into Pee Wee’s hands. As soon as Duck got out of the car, Pee Wee grabbed a lighter from his ashtray and fired up. He took a pull and blew the smoke in the direction of the slain police officer.
“You know how much trouble you got me in, muthafucka?” Pee Wee then hawked up some phlegm and spat on the body. While taking another puff, Pee Wee starting thinking.
Why in the fuck are we still sitting here? he wondered. He took the new cell phone that Darnell had given him and turned it on. The picture of a clown popped onto the screen, causing him to chuckle.
The fuck taking Duck so long?
Suddenly the smile slowly vanished from Pee Wee’s face.
Darnell just texted me were the words that Duck had said to him. But Pee Wee knew for a fact that Duck didn’t have texting service on his phone. He was notoriously cheap like that. A sinking feeling began to settle in the pit of Pee Wee’s stomach. The cell phone vibrated twice in his hand. Frantically, Pee Wee reached for the door handle and tried to escape . . . but he was too late. A loud, thunderous boom shattered the windows and set off the alarms of some of the cars nearby as Pee Wee’s BMW exploded. Darnell and Turiq smiled as they watched the fire consume the BMW.
“Let’s get th
e fuck outta here, dawg,” Darnell told Turiq.
Although the response time to the 911 calls was reasonably quick, there was still nothing anyone could do. The bodies were burned and charred beyond recognition.
Chapter 6
When Flora got home later that night, she saw an eviction notice taped to her door. Although Pee Wee had given her money to pay her rent, Flora, in true weed head fashion, had smoked it up. With an attitude, she snatched off the notice and balled it up.
The two-family house she lived in wasn’t all that, but it was a place to lay her head. She often complained to the landlord about the noise coming from upstairs. At least three nights a week, her ears were assaulted by various women’s cries of passion. By her account, she’d seen at least six different women follow Victor, the young man, upstairs. And those were only the ones she knew about. In true landlord fashion, Mr. Parker told her that as long as the other tenant was paying his rent, he was free to entertain his company as he saw fit. The statement wasn’t entirely true. There was a noise provision in the contract, but as long as Victor continued to convince some of the freaks he came across to let the 65-year-old landlord sit in a corner, watch, and jack off from time to time, he would keep turning a deaf ear to her complaints. When Flora heard the door to the upstairs open, she quickly jammed the notice into her pocket.
“I don’t know why you’re trying to hide that notice. I already saw it earlier when I came home. I guess Mr. Parker ain’t too happy about you not paying your rent.”
“Nigga, fuck you and Mr. Parker. Hell, it’s only a few days late anyway,” she yelled at him.
“Now, is that any way to talk to your future husband?”
“Future husband? Nigga, you sound crazy as fuck.”
“Damn, baby, why so mean? Whatever it is, I didn’t do it to you.”
Flora popped her lips and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t mad at Victor, but she was taking her anger out on him. Shortly after leaving Pee Wee’s house, Flora went over to her cousin’s place to cop a twenty sack of weed. Much to her dismay, some of his higher-end customers had pretty much cleaned him out. All he had was a dime bag for himself, and since he didn’t want to share with his cousin, he told her that he was totally out. Flora was extremely pissed off. Even though Mark’s weed wasn’t the best in the neighborhood, it did its job, nonetheless.
“What’s really good, baby girl? Somebody stressing you out or somethin’?”
“Hell nah. Look, my bad. I didn’t mean to bite yo’ head off.”
“It’s all good, baby. Let me pour you a drink.”
Flora cocked her head and sized up the tall, thin, young man. On a good day, Victor weighed a good 150 pounds. Flora reasoned that if he got too fresh, she could kick his ass with no problem.
“Yeah, a’ight. But don’t get me up there and try some funny shit.”
“Baby, how long have we known each other? Have I ever come at you on some slick shit?”
Flora thought about it and had to admit that Victor had indeed never come on to her.
“Nah, I guess not.”
“Of course not. You’re like a little sister to me,” he said.
Little sister? The fuck is this nigga tryin’a say?
Victor turned and headed up the steps. A sinister smile was plastered on his face. He knew what effect the “little sister” comment would have on her.
“Now, yo’ friend, Paula? That’s one fine-ass woman. I could see myself rollin’ around in the sack with her.”
What’s good wit’ this nigga? I know he ain’t sayin’ I ain’t worth fuckin’.
When they entered his place, Flora was surprised to see that it was above-average clean. The last dude she was dating was a complete slob. After getting her comfortable, Victor went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses, a carton of orange-mango juice, and a bottle of Absolut Vodka.
“Absolut? You ain’t got no Cîroc?” she asked indignantly.
Victor kept his cool. He just smiled and shook his head. He was a master at the art of seduction, and a woman like Flora was mere putty in his hands.
“Sorry, ma, it’s all I got right now.”
“Okay,” Flora said, shrugging her shoulders. Since she’d already gone through the trouble of walking up the stairs, she may as well have a drink or two. She watched Victor as he poured their drinks.
“Tell me when to stop,” he said.
Flora waited until the glass was about halfway filled before stopping him. Since he offered the drink, she intended to take full advantage of his generosity.
“Yo, is this juice cool, or do you want something else?”
“Nah, that’s cool. Can I use your bathroom?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s right down that hall,” he pointed.
When Flora returned from relieving herself, Victor had poured both drinks. She grabbed the glass that sat on the table in front of him and switched it with the drink that he’d set down for her. Victor looked perplexed at first, but he burst into laughter when he realized what she was doing.
“Hey, a bitch gotta be careful nowadays,” she said.
“It’s all good,” he said, still getting a kick out of her paranoia. Flora had no idea that both glasses were laced with crushed Ecstasy pills.
“So, why were you so upset earlier?” Victor asked. He really didn’t give a shit. He was only stalling until the pill kicked in. However, the story of her cousin selling all his weed before breaking her off did amuse him.
“I’ll be right back.”
Flora watched as Victor got up and walked into his bedroom.
“Hey, don’t bring yo’ ass out here naked. I know that damn trick,” she yelled. Flora had seen that one before. The brother of one of her high school friends pulled that trick when she was a teenager.
When Victor came back out, he wasn’t naked, but he had changed clothes. Instead of the Cleveland Cavaliers jogging suit he had on, he now rocked a pair of black baggy shorts and a white wife beater. But what he was wearing was nowhere near as important to Flora as what he had in his hand. Pinched between Victor’s fingers was a super thick blunt ready to be lit and smoked. Flora’s eyes lit up. Although the drink Victor had fixed for her had her feeling nice, smoking a blunt was what she really wanted to do. And Victor knew it. He’d studied Flora. He’d watched her. Many times, when the two of them had passed each other, he’d smelled the strong odor of weed on her person. He knew that she was a weed head. So when Flora told him about how her cousin had played her when she’d went to cop a bag, a lightbulb went off in his head. Even though he’d made a few sly comments, Victor had never really come on to Flora. He’d heard about Pee Wee and knew about him being a part of Darnell’s crew. Victor wasn’t a punk, but he didn’t want that smoke. But tonight was just one of those nights when his dick was hard, and for some reason, he couldn’t get in touch with any of his jump-offs. Victor was just about to light up the blunt when he heard Flora’s car pull up. He decided right then that he was gonna either get some pussy or get shot down and suffer the consequences.
“What you got there?” Flora asked, eyeing the blunt.
“Just a little something to put you in a better mood. I’m sorry that your cousin didn’t come through, but, hey . . . if you’re still in the mood to smoke—”
“Hell yeah, I’m in the mood to smoke. Fire that shit up, Vic!”
With his smile widening and his dick hardening, Victor slid back over to where he was seated, dropped back down, and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. Placing the blunt in his mouth, he flicked the lighter and lit the tip. Victor inhaled sharply and savored the moment as the potent smoke invaded his lungs. He held it for a good ten seconds before letting it slide out the side of his mouth. He smiled as he nodded his head.
“This some good shit,” he said. Flora cleared her throat.
“You okay? You need a glass of water?”
“Oh, I see you got jokes. Set that blunt out and quit playing.”
Victor laughed as he passed
Flora the blunt. He was counting on her not being able to resist. All he had to do now was sit back and wait for the pill and weed to do their thing, and it would be a wrap. His dick hardened as he watched her lips curl around the brown paper.
“You want another drink?” he asked.
“Yeah, I can go for another one. Damn, is it me, or is it hot in here?” she asked, fanning herself. Victor smiled as he got up, grabbed the empty glasses, and left. When he came back, Flora’s eyes were closed, and she was nodding her head to a beat inside of it.
“Here you go,” Victor said, extending the drink toward her.
“Damn, nigga, what took you so––”
Flora’s mouth got dry when she opened her eyes and took in the sight before her. This time, Victor was in his birthday suit. She swallowed the lump in her throat when she saw the size of his penis. She instantly became aware of what had been causing his female visitors to scream his name at the top of their lungs. To give his cock the full effect, Victor set the drinks down and stood straight up. Flora gazed at it for a few seconds before Victor grabbed her hand and led her to his bedroom. She wanted to resist, but the e-pill had her hot and horny. Five minutes later, like all the other women that had ended up in his bedroom, Victor had Flora screaming his name.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Flora walked out of Victor’s bedroom with a sore back, a sore vagina, and a broad smile on her face. Although she’d only been a couple of hours removed from sleeping with Pee Wee, the potent weed combined with the E-pill-laced drink and Victor’s massive-sized penis had been too much for her to resist. Her legs nearly gave out as she made her way down the steps. The crisp air smacked her in the face when she opened the door leading from upstairs. Because she’d just been sweating, the air felt like miniature spears stabbing her in her cheeks. As quickly as she could, Flora pushed the door to her downstairs place open and darted inside. Had she taken a second to think, she would have remembered that she never got a chance to unlock the door before going upstairs with Victor.