Trapstar

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Trapstar Page 1

by Blake Karrington




  Chapter 1

  Lucky Me

  A shiny 2012 White Range Rover Sport came to a smooth stop perfectly in the parking space. The vehicle was one of the trappings of success; a symbol of luxury. Behind the wheel sat a young gorgeous African American female named Brianna Campbell. Through her Dolce & Gabbana shades, she glanced down at the platinum Rolex watch on her wrist. It read one o’clock. She was right on time for her hair appointment.

  As soon as she entered the hair salon, Brianna noticed that all eyes were on her. Still, she remained cool behind her dark tinted shades. It would take more than a few envious eyes to unnerve her. Although Hera by Him was an upscale hair salon, it wasn’t free from the catty gossip that plagued every hood shop. As soon as Brianna strolled past, almost immediately the whispers and speculation began.

  With of all the high priced designer accessories and clothes Brianna wore, the majority of the women assumed that she was some ball players’ girlfriend or wife. The large six carat diamond ring did little to dispel those rumors. There was no denying that she was well kept. Her outfit and designer bag caused some insecure women to fall back into obscurity when they saw her. They knew that all of her accessories were real, while most of theirs were bootleg; cheap knock offs.

  Usually all clients were required to wait in the sitting area until they were called by their stylist, but not Brianna. She strolled right past the receptionist, heading straight to the back. The receptionist merely glanced at Brianna, but she didn’t attempt to stop her. She recognized that Brianna was a regular. But besides that Brianna had a swagger about her that suggested that she wasn’t to be messed with.

  Her stylist seemed to light up when she saw Brianna coming towards her. It wasn’t because she was happy to see her or that liked doing her hair either. Brianna paid well; it was as simple as that. The stylist knew that she wouldn’t have to do another head that day. Once Brianna was done tipping her, she was going to be straight.

  “Hey Bri.” The stylist happily said. “I can set my watch to you girl, you always on time. I wish all my clients were like you.”

  Lauren was one of the few people Brianna knew she could never allow to get a peek into her life. She had witnessed first hand the way Lauren spoke about her other clients and their personal business. So no matter how friendly her stylist was to her, Brianna was always the same; nonchalant. She always gave her the cold shoulder, shutting down any attempts at them becoming too friendly. All the idle chit-chat that went on between stylist and client didn’t exist when she took her seat in the stylist’s chair. Brianna guarded her privacy like a celebrity. Brianna simply smiled in response to the comment.

  After taking off her shades and placing them inside her bag, she handed her personal items to her stylist, who put the bag under the counter.

  In the mirror Lauren smiled as she examined different parts of Brianna’s weave. She could feel Brianna watching her. She went from the front to the back inspecting her hair. When she reached the back she grimaced slightly. Thankfully Brianna didn’t catch it.

  A large scar on the back of Brianna’s head had caused this reaction. Brianna’s scar betrayed her pampered appearance. What in the world was a woman of Brianna’s stature doing with such an ungodly scar was beyond Lauren. As a matter of fact it was the subject of debate whenever Brianna left the salon. To her credit the stylist never asked any questions, and Brianna never offered an explanation.

  Lauren could tell she had been through some shit, but what she didn’t know. She would have loved to find out.

  Quickly pushing those thoughts out of her mind, she went to work. Meanwhile, Brianna casually looked around. While Lauren moved about in the booth Brianna took notice of her attire. She was dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Brianna looked down to see what she had on her feet and instantly she got pissed.

  “Fuckin’ Jordan’s!’ She cursed to herself.

  Those sneakers would be forever stoned in Brianna’s memory. It didn’t matter if they were worn by a male or female, she hated them. As she closed her eye’s Brianna’s mind began to trace back to the moment that she had not been able to erase. Suddenly her thoughts began to run wild.

  *****

  The halogen headlights shone brightly from the four door European sedan, illuminating the entire garage. With a touch of a button, the garage door quickly closed. Calmly the two occupants of the car made their exit. Tre led the way inside the house. After placing his key into the lock, he entered the house and punched in his security code, deactivating the alarm. His girlfriend Brianna followed closely behind. The couple had just come home from a busy night on the town. Brianna loved going out, she like being in the spot light. But Tre was the total opposite. In Tre’s line of work it was better to be talked about rather than seen.

  The streets of Charlotte, NC were like a jungle, filled with both predators and prey. But by no means was Tre anybody’s prey. On the contrary, he was just as dangerous as they came. To meet Tre for the first time one would never know. He had a very laid back disposition, and would rarely be seen in jeans or any of the latest urban wear. He had learned a long time ago, that the quieter you were the easier it was to move.

  Inside the luxurious confines of his townhouse, Tre breathed a sigh of relief. .

  “Umm, that steak was good as shit!” he suddenly announced. “I’m full like a motherfucker.”

  He flopped down on the couch, kicked back and relaxed. Reaching for the television remote, he turned on the 63 inch plasma TV. Quickly he became captivated by the new Rick Ross video that was airing on BET. He was feeling extremely sluggish. The big meal he had eaten had begun to take effect.

  Meanwhile, in the hallway Brianna began to get comfortable herself. She slipped off her high heel shoes, loosened the buttons on her blouse and made her way toward the living room.

  “Hold on Big Poppa.” Brianna said. “Don’t go to sleep on me yet. I got something way better than that steak!”

  To Tre that could only mean one thing, some good head. Like the old saying went, ‘The way to a man’s heart may have been through a man’s stomach’. But for Tre it was threw his dick. He went fool over some good head. And nobody did it better, than Brianna.

  Immediately, Brianna got down on her knees and went to work. Quickly she unzipped Tre’s pants, reaching inside she gripped his dick, pulled it out and took it into her mouth. Brianna’s mouth was warm and wet. She began licking and sucking on the head of his dick. She worked her way down until every inch was in her mouth. Moving faster and faster until she felt his dick grow harder and harder. Brianna used just the right amount of spit and suction. Tre dropped his head back and sighed.

  Again and again, he thrusted his hips to meet her hungry mouth. With his eyes closed he enjoyed the moment.

  “Damn baby. Suck dat dick!” He cursed. “Do dat shit.”

  Tre’s cursing didn’t even bother Brianna. She was with whatever it took to get him off. She knew if she didn’t, there were plenty other hoes out in the streets who would jump at the opportunity. She felt if he was going to stray, it wasn’t going to be because of anything she did or didn’t do.

  “Cum in my mouth daddy!” Brianna demanded.

  The commandment drove Tre crazy. He quickly obliged. A hot jolt of semen shot from his balls to the head of his dick, into Brianna’s warm and waiting mouth. As soon as it came out, she gobbled it up and swallowed it down. When she had drained every last drop of his love juice, Brianna continued to suck on his dick. Unable to take any more, Tre tried to pry her lips off.

  “Alright, God damn!” He exclaimed. “Brianna, that’s enough.”

  From the floor, Brianna glanced up at her man. A sinister smile spread across her face. She knew it was a job well done.
/>   Getting up off her knees, Brianna proudly stood above her man.

  “Nigga, git up.” She joked. “It wasn’t all like that.”

  Tre lay on the couch in the fetal position, trying to regain the little bit of energy, he had just lost.

  “Shiiitttttt!!!” Was all he managed to say.

  Brianna insisted. “C’mon, Tre stop playin’. Git up and come wit me upstairs to the shower. Let’s get ready for bed. ”

  “You go ’head.” He told her. “I’ll be up there in a minute.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise!” He replied. “I’ll be right up there as soon as I get myself together.”

  “Alright, hurry up!” She demanded. “We ain’t finished yet. We got one more round to go.”

  Reluctantly, Brianna walked away to prepare for their next sexual romp to take place in the shower. She hurried along in anticipation of what was to come. She had just turned the corner, taking only a few steps out of the living room when suddenly two masked gunmen appeared.

  With the barrel of a semi-automatic weapon pointed directly at her forehead, Brianna didn’t utter a word. Instinctively, she backed up as the gunmen moved silently toward her. The TV successfully drowned out any noise they made.

  Quickly, the two masked men pushed Brianna into the living room, brandishing their weapons on Tre. Caught completely off guard, Tre just starred in disbelief, wondering how in the hell had these two niggas gotten into his house without setting off the alarm system.

  The larger one barked. “Nigga, make a move and I’m gonna let you feel this heat.”

  Immediately, the other man snatched up Brianna. Everything appeared to be moving in slow motion to her.

  Brianna was violently shoved onto the couch. With a gun pointed in her face, she couldn’t do anything but stare. The gunman and his weapon were oblivious to her, for whatever reason her eyes were locked on the man’s hand. All she could see was the word ‘Smalls’ in cursive writing tattooed on the bottom of his hand.

  “Bitch, don’t look at me!” The gunman growled. “Turn ya fuckin head’!”

  Apparently Brianna wasn’t moving fast enough because the gunman viciously slapped her. Brianna’s head recoiled violently from the blow. She fell back onto the couch with the taste of blood quickly filling her mouth.

  “Ok, you know what it is. Just give us what we came for.” The larger one demanded. “Now where the stash at?”

  “Nigga ain’t nuttin’ here!” Tre snapped. “I don’t eat where I shit.”

  Unfortunately, the gunmen didn’t buy a word he was saying. Without warning the large man, began to pistol whipped Tre. He was thrown to the floor where he was kicked and beaten some more. Blood began to flow freely from a gash in his head.

  “Nigga, you think this a muthafuckin’ game huh?” He yelled. “Now, I’ma ask you one more time. Where is it at?”

  By then Brianna was in a state of shock. She didn’t understand why Tre didn’t just give them what they wanted so they could leave. She thought it was just that simple.

  “Look, I already told you niggas. Ain’t nuttin’ here.” He muttered through a pair of swollen lips.

  A third man entered the room. With a nod of his head, he motion to the one who had Brianna to lift her up. His partner reacted by reaching down, grabbing a handful of Brianna’s hair, and snatching her up off the couch. He placed one arm around her neck; the other hand clutched the gun that was pressed to her temple.

  “Nigga, you better tell us what we wanna hear and fast.” The other gunman spat. “The next muthafuckin’ lie you tell, this bitch is dead! Now, where’s the stash at?”

  Though he was more than a little woozy, Tre was still defiant. He glared angrily at his two assailants. An evil thought ran through his mind, ‘If I can get to one of my guns. I’m going to kill these motherfuckers.

  Amongst all the commotion, the shouting, the threats and the violence, the videos were still playing on the television, but a tomb like silence suddenly enveloped the room. The threat of death hung in the air.

  For what seemed like an eternity no one said a word. Brianna’s eyes suddenly locked with Tre’s. They seemed to sing a sad song. They pleaded with Tre to give up the goods. Still he stood his ground, refusing to say a thing.

  Seeing this Brianna knew she would be forced to take matters into her own hands. She felt it was the only way to remedy the situation, since Tre wasn’t talking.

  “It’s upstairs in the bedroom.” She blurted out. “The money is upstairs in the bedroom in a suitcase.”

  ‘Damn!’ Tre cursed to himself. He shot her an ice cold stare.

  Tre would have rather her give up the location of the dope than the money. Money was too hard to come by. Now he had to take some more pen chances to recoup his cash. While if he was robbed of some drugs, he could go to his drug connection and get more on consignment.

  The gunmen released his grip on Brianna, who stood there holding her throat. She tried to recover from the choke hold she had been in. Taking two steps away from her, suddenly the gunmen turned back around and viciously struck her with the butt of his gun. Caught off guard, Brianna went crashing face first to the floor. She was knocked unconscious by a blow to her temple.

  The other two gunmen laughed heartily, signaling their approval.

  “Damn, you knocked that bitch out cold.” one commented. “Now go upstairs and get the money.”

  Doing as he was told, the second gunman fled the living room, and went to retrieve the money.

  The larger gunman announced, “Nigga, ya girl smarter than you. You lucky she told us when she did. I thought we was gonna have to kill her ass just for you to talk. Just for that we gonna let ya'll live.”

  Tre didn’t believe a word the man had said. But he wasn’t really focused on him anyway. It was the third man who didn’t speak a word that concerned him the most. It was obvious that he was the one running things.

  Before Tre could give it any real thought or get himself together to mount an attack, he heard the other gunman come running down the stairs. It was then that he realized that he may have blown his only chance of survival.

  “You got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it! It was right where she said it was.” He laughed.

  Tre watched as the other gunman entered the room and gave the bag to third man. At that point he sensed that something was up, though no more words were exchanged between the men. It was as if he knew what was about to happen.

  With two large caliber firearms trained on him, Tre watched as the men inched closer and closer, until they were within pointblank range. Something came over him that he hadn’t felt in years, it was fear. Though he had personally sent countless individuals to the afterlife, now that it was his turn, suddenly he realized he didn’t want to go. He wasn’t ready to leave this earth, not at the ripe old age of twenty five years old. He had so much more living to do and things to see. He couldn’t believe it was ending like this.

  Tre wasn’t a chump, but he knew he didn’t want to die.

  With the finality of the situation close at hand, Tre finally backed down off his defiant stance, his slumped shoulders suggested he had gone into submission. A pitiful look appeared on his face, one that invited any act of divine intervention. Tre’s look invited any act of mercy, so that his life and that of his girlfriend might be spared.

  The gunmen shot him a cold look of indifference, one that seemed to suggest that they would not deviate from their plan. Their hard core looks condemn him and his girlfriend to their fate, which was death.

  Suddenly without warning, Tre lunged for one of the gunman’s firearms. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going down without a fight. Too bad he wasn’t quite fast enough to execute his plans. Gunshots exploded through the room. Six bullets found their mark. When the smoke cleared Tre was slumped on the floor, dead.

  “Now, finish the bitch! And let’s get the fuck outta here!” The first gunman screamed.

  Standing above Brianna, he
had a chance to see her innocent beauty. Even though she was covered in blood, her face was captivating. He closed his eyes and fired two shots, one missed badly and other drew blood, but it only grazed her head.

  Brianna lay motionless on the floor. The gunman thought he had successfully executed her.

  Long after the gunmen were gone, Brianna continued to lie on the floor, playing dead. She wanted to be sure that no one was going to double back, to finish the job. As she looked around, she saw Tre’s lifeless body lying in a pool of blood. For a long time she lay there thinking about Tre. It was heartbreaking to see him like that. Though he was certainly no angel Tre didn’t deserve to go out like that.

  .

  *******

  That night at the hospital, a weeping Brianna sat for hours answering every question that the police threw at her.

  “Ma’am, could you tell us why someone would want to hurt you and your fiancé?” The older white cop asked.

  “You said robbery earlier, but it didn’t seem like they took anything of value.” The other cop spoke.

  Brianna knew she couldn’t tell them exactly what happen, there were still drugs at the house. And she didn’t know how much. She cleverly sprinkled lies in with the truth. She knew that she needed to get home and get the dope out of the house. Or she would not only be losing Tre, but possibly her freedom. The FEDS didn’t care who did the time as long as someone did it.

  When the police left, Brianna checked herself out the hospital. She couldn’t bring herself to stay in the house that night. So she checked herself into a hotel. While she lay on the bed, she looked up at the ceiling. She wished she had a family to lean on, but she knew hers was not an option. Her family life had never been what a little girl deserved; especially one who had both parents. This was now her second time, being alone, and having no one to turn too. As she fell asleep she reflected on her childhood.

 

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