Justin screwed the silencer on his gun and turned back to face them. “Do you know that not one of those boys you murdered was older than seventeen?” Justin asked in a low voice. “When you emptied that whole fifteen clip in Arrik’s nephew’s head, you never thought the surveillance footage would get back, did you? Well, Arrik sends you and your family his love.”
The two young boys looked at Justin with confusion. He was sure that they didn’t understand what was going on or why he was there. Justin’s heart would have told him to let them live, but his heart had left a long time ago.
Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!
He showed no emotion at the blood splattering from the backs of their heads. Their necks snapped back from the force of the bullets entering their skulls. The precision of his aim was impeccable, and he knew they were gone before their bodies hit the ground. After he adjusted the straps of the duffle bags on his shoulder, he made his way out of the house. It was late, and the darkness shielded him as he ran to the white van parked around the corner. Once everyone was accounted for, they pulled off and headed in the direction of their hideout.
“That was an easy lick!” the driver of the vehicle said, removing the mask from his face.
“On God, Malik!” said the high-pitched voice, which belonged to Justin’s trigger-happy shooter, Donte. He was sitting on Justin’s right side, rummaging through the things he’d taken from the house. “I thought the nigga would at least put up a fight. He wasn’t even strapped.”
Tamar looked at Justin through the rearview mirror. Although he was the second youngest among them, his beard and mustache put many years on his physique. He technically wasn’t even down with the crew; he was just a fill-in when he needed some extra money in his pocket. “Yo, boss man, was there really fifty bands in the safe upstairs? Or was the nigga jeffing about that to buy him more time?”
“Yeah, it’s right here in this bag. We can divide it up equally at the spot and then head to Arrik’s to get the rest of what’s owed to us.”
Donte and Malik nodded, excited about the fact that instead of $20,000 each, they would all get $30,000. Still, sometimes no amount of money could please everybody, and the next voice that sounded reminded Justin of that.
“How do we know there was only fifty thousand in the safe?” a deep baritone voice sounded from the seat in the back of the van. “Or that there wasn’t more and you’re trying to keep it all for yourself? We weren’t up there with you. How do we know there wasn’t one hundred thousand dollars in the safe?”
The flat tone belonged to Amos, a man from Memphis, Tennessee. He was new to the crew and, at first, Justin was reluctant to bring him into his circle. However, Amos could pick any lock no matter how big, small, or secure. At the time, that seemed like an essential talent to have in their line of work; however, lately, all of the questions that Amos had been asking were making Justin think he should have gone with his first instinct.
Before he could answer, a woman’s voice spoke up: “The duffle bag is right there. Count it up if you feel like somebody is trying to cheat you.”
The person in the passenger’s seat removed the mask from her face, revealing a woman who gave meaning to the word “beauty.” Her long, flowing hair fell on the sides of her face and rested on her shoulders.
Robin Hood, just like her brother Justin, was not a force to be trifled with. Over the years, her looks got her deemed a Lauren London look-alike, with her doe-shaped eyes, full lips, and high cheekbones. However, her attitude earned her a seat at the big boys’ table. Just because she was pretty didn’t mean that she was scared to get her hands a little dirty. At twenty-five, Robin was seven years younger than her older brother. When their parents died in a terrible car crash, Justin had taken her under his wing and taught her everything he knew. She learned to fight with precision and shoot a firearm without the voice of her conscience haunting her afterward.
Turning her head, she looked past Justin and directly into Amos’s face. “Are you going to count it or not?” she asked when he did not make a move for the money.
Everyone was silent, waiting to see what would be the outcome of this exchange of words. The only sounds that could be heard were the gusts of wind coming through the slightly cracked windows of the van. Robin’s and Amos’s eyes were fixated on each other, and the two seemed to be in a war of who would blink first. After thirty seconds of glaring, Amos’s face broke into a chuckle, and he shook his head.
“Nobody else wants to check and see for themselves?” he asked the other passengers.
“If Justin says there was only fifty thousand, there was only fifty thousand,” Donte said, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s my nigga, and I trust him. Either way, I came up tonight more than I thought I would. I don’t care how much money is in that duffle. As long as I get what was promised to me, I’m straight.”
“Right. Plus, Justin set up the hit and caught the bodies. Even if there was more money in there than fifty bands, he earned it.”
Robin’s eyes were still on Amos. She noticed the split-second look of displeasure cross his face right before it was replaced with another chuckle. She had the sudden urge to reach back and slap him, but he backed off.
“All right, I won’t press the issue.”
From the look on Robin’s face, Justin could tell that she had something else to say. He shot her a look and shook his head at her. Her jaw tensed for a moment. Eventually, she turned back around in her seat, but not before shooting Amos one last dirty look.
Justin sighed and put his hood over his tapered fade. Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes, putting what had just taken place to the furthest part of his mind. They were always a little tense after a job, so he just chalked it up to that. All he knew was that he was tired and the moment they left Arrik’s and got back to their safe house, he was crashing for a minimum of ten hours.
Chapter 2
“Mmmm, oh yesss, baby!” The sweetest moan bounced off of the four walls of the bedroom and back to Malik’s ears.
“You like that shit, girl?” he asked, forcing her to arch her back deeper than it already was.
“Yes, daddy! I love this horse dick!”
Malik continued to plow into her from behind, throwing his head back and clenching his eyes shut. The way her pussy lips gripped his shaft had him feeling higher than the kush still circling around in his system. She caught each thrust like a good catcher was supposed to, and met him with some power of her own. His hands gripped her small waist, and the reason his eyes were clenched was because he couldn’t handle the sight of his dick getting swallowed up by her fat ass and swollen womanhood. She was so wet that, mixed with her loud moans, there was a sound similar to a big pot of macaroni and cheese being stirred.
“I swear to God you got the best pussy, baby,” he panted, not able to hold in the small moan that escaped his lips. “Damn, Robin! Bounce that shit back just like that!”
“I can’t,” Robin whimpered as she felt her clit swell up.
After the hit, Malik had offered to take Robin home when she said that she didn’t want to sleep at the safe house with Justin and Donte. Amos ended up leaving as well, but he was the last thing on her mind. She knew what she and Malik were doing behind Justin’s back was wrong, but she couldn’t deny the feelings she had for Malik. Honestly, she couldn’t explain her feelings for the man if she tried; she just knew that he lit a fire inside of her, one that made her want to jump his bones whenever she saw him. He gave her the best sex she’d ever had in her twenty-five years of life, and needless to say, she was hooked.
That night, the two booked a hotel suite and dumped money on top of the king-sized bed. There was something about fucking on top of thousands that did something for Robin’s sexual drive. She loved the rough feeling of the paper against her naked body, and the bills comforted her when she needed something to grip while he was riding her—like right at that moment, when her love button exploded and her moans turned into screams.
; “Cream all over daddy’s dick.” Malik encouraged her orgasm when he felt her buck in his grip. “Go ahead, baby. Daddy won’t be mad at you. Just know I’m not done with you. I need three more.”
Although he loved the feel of her juices flowing around his manhood, he would have rather had them on his face and his mouth. He flipped Robin over on her back with little effort, giving her the perfect view of his perfectly sculpted muscular frame. Her beautiful body was still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm, and she blinked her eyes rapidly to stop them from rolling in the back of her head.
“You want me to finish myself off?” he asked, stroking himself with his left hand and grabbing one of her succulent breasts with the other. He watched her perfect teeth bite her juicy bottom lip when he squeezed her nipple gently between his fingers. “I don’t think you can handle another round.”
“No, please give me more,” Robin begged weakly, lifting her legs and opening them as wide as she could. “This is your pussy, baby. Take it. You can fuck me for however long you want, as hard as you want. You can hurt me and I won’t tell you to stop. I promise. Just please make me cum again. Please, daddy, please!”
Malik watched Robin’s hand slide down her flat stomach until it found what it was searching for. The purple chrome polish on her long acrylic nails looked even better as her hand softly slapped her sticky love box. He licked his full lips and felt his dick grow even harder in his hand. In the streets, Robin was the hardest chick you could find. She didn’t play any games and didn’t take shit from anybody. He would have never guessed that she was that submissive in the bedroom.
“I love how freaky you are, ma. Nasty-ass girl, you want me to fuck you again, huh?”
“Yessss.”
“Well, I want to eat this pussy.” He let her breast go and dived in face first.
His tongue was met with the taste of her sweet nectar, and he gripped her thighs so she couldn’t run from him. She knew that to be a sign of him meaning business, and she gripped the bedsheets, trying to prepare for pure ecstasy. His tongue showed her clit no leniency, and with each lick, Robin’s body jerked. Her hands found the back of his head and her fingers nestled in the soft curls of his high-top curly, tapered fade. She was scared to push his face deeper in her love box because she didn’t know if she could take it, but she didn’t want him to stop anytime soon. While her body shook and withered at his mercy, she silently thanked every woman who had come before her. They taught him the art of a woman’s sex, and he mastered it. Malik licked, sucked, and kissed all over her sweet pussy until she had cum two more times in his mouth and his face was completely drenched.
That time, Malik didn’t give her a chance to recuperate. Placing his strong hands behind her knees, he pushed her legs to the side of her face and stuffed his thick ten inches back inside of her. He knew she would have preferred for him to go slow until her orgasm subsided, but there was a fire inside of him that was screaming for him to pound her out.
“Ahhhh!” Robin hollered as a thin stream shot from between her legs and onto his stomach. “Malik! Malik, I can’t take it, babyyy!”
“Yes, you can,” Malik said while he gave her long, hard strokes. He leaned in so that he could place his mouth on hers and kiss her tenderly. “Take this dick. Take all this dick.” He gave her five more good thrusts before slamming into her one last time.
“Shit!” he called out and squeezed her legs tight as he released his nut inside of her. He threw his head back at the intense feeling he was getting and closed his eyes so that he could relish it. “Damn, you got some good pussy, Robin.”
“I know,” she said with a breathy giggle. “That’s why you can’t stay away from me.”
Malik pulled himself out of her and used the rest of his strength to lie down and pull her to his body. She grabbed the thicker cover that had gotten pushed to the end of the bed from all of their sexing, and she put it over their naked bodies.
“You are my kryptonite,” Malik said, kissing the back of her ear as they spooned. “That pussy can get me killed. If Justin knew the things I did to you when the sun went down, homie would have my head on a stick.”
Robin rolled her eyes at the far wall that she was facing. She hated when Malik subtly reminded her that, because of Justin, the two of them would never be anything but fuck buddies. Of course, she understood, but sometimes she wished that Malik would boss up and just tell Justin how he felt about her. “Why are you so scared of Justin?”
“I’m not scared of no man,” he told her. “It’s a respect thing. Dude has put me on to a lot of money. The last thing I want to do is throw in his face the fact that I’m fucking his little sister.”
“I may be his little sister, but I am a grown woman. I can make my own decisions. We should just tell him.”
She felt him grow stiff behind her, and she whipped her body around to face him. The first thing she noticed was the look of annoyance on his face and that his jaw was clenched.
“Malik, why can’t we just tell him?”
“Because, ma,” he said, sighing and wiping down his face with his hand, “that would be bad for business. And I fuck with you, but—”
“But?” Robin sat up in the bed and looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
“But, it’s not like I’m trying to be with you or nothing. You knew what this was from the jump, Robin. I told you when we first started this thing not to fall for me, and now look at you. Trying to get me to fuck up my money.”
Just like that, his choice of words had Robin regretting being bent over with her ass in the air not even half an hour before. He had completely ruined the mood, and she was caught somewhere between being mad and being hurt. She was at a complete loss for words because never had she been in that position. She felt weak, like she had given somebody else power over her, and she didn’t like it.
“Look,” Malik said, reading her face, “it’s obvious that you’re upset. How about I just get my shit and go.”
“It’s four in the morning.”
“What does that mean?” Malik asked rhetorically and got out of the bed.
Robin held the cover to her chest and watched him get fully dressed in less than three minutes. It was her money sprawled over the room, not his, so he didn’t touch a single bill when he put his own duffle bag on his shoulder. After his white-and-black shell-toe Adidas were laced and his gun was tucked, he tried to lean in to give Robin a kiss, but she turned her head.
“Nigga, you’re funny.” Robin shook her head and waved her hand, dismissing him. “You can leave, and understand after this there is nothing but business between us.”
“Man, all right.” Malik stood upright and headed for the door.
He looked back at Robin when he got to the door, thinking that he would catch her glaring at him. Instead, he saw her staring sadly at her hands. Her long, disheveled hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and her back was hunched slightly. Oddly, it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her. She looked so . . . vulnerable. A part of him wanted to go back to the bed and put her pieces back together, but an even bigger part of him reminded him that he could never give her what she wanted. Before he did something stupid, Malik turned his back on her and left the suite.
Chapter 3
“Daddy! Look at the fishies in the water!”
Arrik smiled as he watched his three-year-old daughter play by the man-made pond in the backyard of his three-story home. That summer day was a hot one, and he sat at the glass table that was positioned on his large concrete patio. A few of his partners sat at the table with him, and a few feet away they had the grill going. It was a mini-celebration for a successful hit the night before. That morning the news showed that a man by the name of Demetrius Simpson and his whole family were found slaughtered in his West Omaha home. The police had no leads on who had done the deed, and that was all Arrik needed to hear before he turned the television off.
He grabbed the Rémy bottle from the middle of the table and topped off
his white Styrofoam cup. Holding the cup in the air, he looked around the table at his most trusted, and delegated a cheer.
“To snake-ass niggas being off the streets!”
“I second that!” Arrik’s oldest friend, Roley, said with a smile on his face.
The two men had known each other since they were ten years old and had been thick as thieves ever since. Arrik was tall, muscular, and of Native American descent. He had smooth, honey brown skin that had a hint of red in it and a handsome square face; and he wore his thick, long hair in two Cherokee braids. He was what most girls called a “pretty boy,” but there was nothing pretty about the ruthlessness in his heart. Roley, on the other hand, was only five foot seven, stocky, and wore his hair in a brush cut. He had full pink lips, and his skin and eyes were the same color brown. He was what most girls would deem “all right looking,” but he kept himself up in the latest trendy gear and stayed with some ice on his body. The duo matched each other’s fly, but most importantly they matched each other’s loyalty.
After the table took their swig of Rémy, Roley nodded his head at Arrik. “So, what now? Now, since that greasy-ass nigga is off our streets, what’s the next plan to level up? I know you got something up your sleeve. You been wearing that scheming look on your face all day!”
Arrik looked at Roley and grinned at how well his friend knew him. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to watch his daughter play for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the table.
“Ay, y’all, go make sure Naomi is straight, and one of y’all check the meat on the grill. If there’s enough space, throw them shrimp on. I already put ’em on the skewers.”
Arrik dismissed everyone at the table but Roley, and they already knew what time it was. The bosses had business to discuss, and Arrik kept everything on a need-to-know basis with his soldiers. He paid them well, so they never complained and always complied with his demands.
Hood Tales, Volume 1 Page 11