She too had her gun out, and it was instinct that made Shannon reach for the .38 snub in the baby bag draped over his shoulder. Had he not thought twice about it, the result would have been fatal for him and possibly his son.
“You was one of Sanaa’s security guards,” Ariana began. “You was one of the smart ones. Always making good decisions at the right time,” Ariana added, trying to get him to think about the situation he was in, and how important it was for him to comply.
“What you want, shorty?” Shannon shot back, wanting her to get to the point.
“Where is Sanaa?” Ariana asked, walking up so close to him that she was only a couple feet away from the baby.
Shannon smiled, remembering who Ariana was. He had remembered her from Sleepy, but didn’t understand why she was asking for Sanaa in this manner. “She moved out to Pittsburgh.” Shannon wasn’t about to tell this chick nothing about Sanaa. Her aggression told him she wasn’t bringing anything good to Sanaa. Shannon lied, thinking that would be the end of it. Shannon took a step toward his door. Ariana laughed. He had given her that information too quickly; she knew that he was way too loyal to just give old girl up that easy.
“Now, before you consider sticking to this lie, you might wanna think about ya li’l man. You might wanna think about who’s more important between the two. I’m guessing by the looks of things, you love ya li’l man a lot. Don’t be—”
“All right, I hear you,” Shannon said, cutting her off.
He knew what Ariana was getting at, and he also knew from Sleepy that she was no stranger to putting in work. His son meant more to him than Sanaa on any given day, and since Sanaa had up and left without so much as a good-bye, Shannon didn’t see a reason to be loyal to her.
“She moved to Philly,” he confessed out of frustration before trying to walk off.
“What part of Philly?” Ariana asked, stepping in front of the doorway he was headed for.
“I’m from Atlanta. Do it look like I know anything about parts of Philadelphia?” He shot back with irritation in his voice. “Now that’s all I know. I’m tryin’ to get my son in the crib now, if you don’t mind.”
Ariana stepped to the side, and so did Olivia.
By the time Shannon got his key in the door and turned around, they were gone. There was no need for them to stick around after eliciting that information. Ariana had a strong feeling that Shannon was telling the truth; he was the second person to direct her to Philly. If he was lying, it wouldn’t be anything for her to travel back to Atlanta and kill him. For now, she was on the next thing smokin’ to Philly, but not before making one more stop.
Royce swerved in and out of lanes on the highway before getting off on exit 13A. Krystol stayed at a distance, but she was right behind him, following his every move. She kept looking back at baby Raven, who had already fallen asleep from the ride. She regretted bringing the baby out, but she was determined to find out what Royce was up to.
After a few more turns, and a little more weaving through some light traffic, Royce pulled into the parking lot of a small strip mall. He pulled the car beside the only other vehicle that was there. Krystol didn’t pull into the parking lot, knowing it would look too obvious. Instead, she parked across the street where she couldn’t be seen. Although she was a little far away, she could still make out what Royce was doing.
“What is your daddy up to?” Krystol asked baby Raven as she stared into the parking lot.
In a matter of moments, the driver of the other car had exited the sports car. Krystol had most of her face glued to the window, and she damn near choked on her own spit when she spotted the blond-haired white woman walk over to Royce’s car and get into the passenger seat. Royce backed up and pulled right out of the lot.
“Oh, dis nigga like white bitches,” Krystol mumbled to herself as she frantically tried to get the car started. “A white bitch,” she kept mumbling to herself the whole time she tried to catch up to Royce’s car.
It was a short drive to the motel Krystol had followed them to, and she got there just in time to see the two of them open the door and go into one of the rooms. It was one thing for a black man to cheat on his girl, but it was a totally different thing when a black man cheated on his girlfriend with a white woman. It was a pride and ego trip, which caused many insecurities in a woman’s ability to please her man. Krystol couldn’t help but to think about what this woman was doing for him that she wasn’t doing for him at home.
I’m pretty, I suck good dick, my pussy stay wet, we’ve done every position you could name, and I even let him put it in my ass. We have rough sex, soft sex; we make love on the regular. I dress up, we have role play, and I even swallow every now and again. Those thoughts raced through Krystol’s head as she sat outside the motel, debating on whether she should get an extra key from the clerk and bust in the room. She looked back at Raven, who was now awake, and backed the car into a parking space in the parking lot of the motel.
Danielle stood by the bed, wrapping her hair in a bun while Royce started to peel off his clothes. She did the same, first pulling her T-shirt over her head, then unzipping the tight-fitted jeans she was wearing. It was hard for Royce to concentrate on doing what he was doing as he snuck a few peeks at Danielle’s body. Her stomach was flat with a pierced belly button, her breasts were perfectly round, and a glimpse of her hard nipples peeked through her designer bra that matched the panties, which hugged her hips. She looked like something out of Victoria’s Secret catalog. If any man would ever cheat on his lady, it had to be with someone of her caliber. Even Royce couldn’t stop his dick from getting hard, which was a bit of an embarrassment when Danielle noticed the bulge in his jeans.
“Now, you got to be on point with this one,” she said, snapping her fingers to get Royce’s attention. “It’s gonna be fast, and whatever you do, don’t shoot at the second car. That’s where the money is,” Danielle explained.
“Well, what if the second car starts shooting at us?” Royce asked, watching as Danielle slipped into some overalls along with the bulletproof vest.
“Just let me take care of the second car. You just make sure nobody is left breathing in the first car.”
After hearing the plan from Danielle a couple of times, Royce got dressed too, slipping into the black overalls provided by Danielle. She too snuck in a few peeks at Royce’s eight pack before he put his vest back on. There was a little bit of sexual tension between the two, but they had never crossed the line. Both understood that the relationship was based on business, and that needed to be respected. Also, Royce wasn’t willing to lose Krystol or his family.
After everything was all said and done, Danielle and Royce headed out the door of the motel ready for work call.
“Yo, slow up a li’l bit. I got too much money in this car for you to be getting pulled over,” Kemo yelled at his driver as he looked off into the road. “And call them niggas up there and tell them to slow the fuck down too,” he continued, pointing to his boys who were in a separate car in front of him.
Kemo wasn’t the boss of Philly, but he was one of the top niggas who supplied the streets with heroin. He had a little crew, mainly consisting of five people, but those five people had crews of their own. He was considered the boss, but even bosses took losses, and for the past few months that’s all that had been happening with him. He was on a vicious downward slope, and the $400K in his car was the last chance he had to get back to where he needed to be. That was just enough for him to buy five bricks of heroin, which would be a hell of a start in his mission back to being on top.
The dark suburban streets provided the perfect cover for a dope deal to go down in the middle of nowhere, but before Kemo got to the drop spot, he made sure everybody was on point. They pulled up to a red light, just a few blocks away from the site.
The flashing lights seemed to come from out of nowhere. The unmarked car pulled right up behind him, and if there were something more than money in the car, he would have told his d
river to pull off.
“Just be easy,” Kemo told the driver as he looked at the car through the rearview mirror.
The driver quickly flashed his headlights to the car in front of him so the crew could see what was going on. When the light turned green, they drove up a little and pulled over while Kemo’s car sat there.
Danielle took one good look around the dark street before pulling the hockey mask over her face and exiting the Crown Victoria. She had a Mossberg pump in her right hand down by her side as she quickly approached Kemo’s car. The flashing lights made it hard for Kemo to see anything, and by the time he did, it was too late. The gunman was already at the driver side door.
When the driver looked up at the window, all he could see was the flash, and the sound of what seemed like a grenade going off. He didn’t even feel the buckshot hit his face when it crashed through the window. The small pellets tore chunks of flesh from his face and the other pellet or two hit Kemo in his neck as well.
In a split second, Kemo was looking down the barrel of the shotgun.
The commotion caught the attention of the boys in the front car, but before they could react, a second masked gunman jumped on the hood of their vehicle and released multiple shots into the driver and the passenger. The two men never even had a chance to draw their weapons and shoot back, as the bullets crashed through the windshield and into their bodies.
Danielle walked around the front of the car with Kemo at gunpoint the whole time, but when she got around to the passenger side, she glanced over to see Royce jumping down off the hood of the other car. That was her only mistake. By the time she focused her attention back on Kemo, he had a gun in his hand and was squeezing the trigger.
The first bullet hit her smack in the middle of her chest, causing her to fall backward. The impact from the bullet made Danielle squeeze the trigger of the pump, firing it off, but not hitting anything.
Seeing her hit the ground, Royce opened fire as he ran across the intersection toward Kemo. Kemo jumped out of the car, still squeezing his trigger, mainly at the gunmen on the ground in front of him. He hit Danielle again in her gut while he ran past her. Royce was on his heels, but he stopped chasing him when Kemo ran into the wooded area. Instead, he ran back over to Danielle, who was slowly trying to get up on her feet. Neither of the bullets had pierced her vest, but she was still shook up a bit.
“Hold this,” she told Royce, passing him the shotgun before going into Kemo’s car.
A few buttons pushed here and a couple latches lifted there, and the whole back seat came out. Inside were several stacks of money in a duffle bag. She wasted no time taking it out, then headed back to their car. They both jumped in and peeled off into the night.
All Kemo could do was look from the woods as his money drove away.
Chapter 9
The last few heads staggered out of the club as it closed for the night. Everyone looked tired as hell from the long night, especially Joi, who was damn near asleep behind the bar.
“Come in,” Sanaa yelled, hearing someone knocking on her office door.
When Sleepy walked in, there was money everywhere. Sanaa sat behind her desk running bills through the money machine. In her hands was a small calculator and she was tapping away at the numbers. Sanaa too looked tired, with her hair somewhat sweated out.
“So how did we do?” he asked taking a seat on the edge of the desk.
“We did good, but not as good as I thought we would,” she responded without even picking her head up.
The casino did the best with the counterfeit money, hauling in a little more than $100,000 in real money, and that was after all the payouts. The bar and grill, along with the strippers, raked in about $21,000, and that included the fee of admission.
“So why the long look on ya face?” Sleepy asked.
“I mean, the numbers look good, but we’re taking a hit in the long run. We made a $121K in real cash, but it’s only $800K left in counterfeit,” she explained. “It costs us almost half the profit just to flip the money over, and it’s coming from the payouts in the casino, and the register at the bar,” she said as she continued to punch in numbers.
“So what now?” Sleepy asked, knowing Sanaa had a plan.
“I got to call Boo. If we’re going down the middle with everything, he’s going to have to take a hit on his profit too.”
One thing Sanaa was good with was math, and in order for it to add up right, some changes needed to be made, especially since she was taking the biggest risk. It was a sure thing that moving $5 million in funny money was going to be more of a challenge than what she’d initially thought.
“We got to find a way to move this money a little bit faster,” Sanaa mused, leaning back in her chair.
“So what do you have in mind?”
Sanaa just sat back in her chair with a zoned-out look on her face. Sleepy knew what that meant, so he just sat there and let her thought process go. It took her a few minutes, but when it came to her, it was like a light bulb clicking on in her head.
“I think I got a couple ways to move it,” she said, snapping out of her trance. “I’m gonna need you to make some more flyers and get ready to call the radio about a new ad.”
The whole drive home, Krystol regretted not getting the key from the hotel management and busting up in the room on Royce. All she could think about was the words that so easily came out of Royce’s mouth. “You gotta trust me.” All that trust shit went out the door, and as she lay in the bed crying her eyes out, the sounds of Royce walking through the front door caught her attention.
She quickly cleaned her face off so he wouldn’t know that she had been crying. She really didn’t know what she was going to do to him or if she’d even say a word about it. All she knew was that her heart was hurting, and tonight was more than likely the beginning of the end.
The first thing Royce did when he came into the bedroom was head straight for the shower, something typical of him after coming in from being outside. To Krystol, it was the typical behavior of a man who had to wash the smell of a woman off of him before he got into bed. Her head was so messed up it skipped her mind that this was a regular routine from him. Everything he did at this point was enhanced to something bigger than what it was.
The shower was quick, and before she knew it, Royce was climbing into bed naked, sliding up right behind Krystol under the silk sheets. He thought she was asleep, but she was wide awake, fighting the urge to turn around and let him have it. Instead, she just lay there in tears as he wrapped his arms around her, not knowing what she now knew.
Danielle sat in the dark living room, waiting for Kemo to come home. She had been there for more than thirty minutes. When the cab pulled up to the house, she ran up the stairs and headed straight for the bedroom. She hopped right in the bed and sat there in her Juicy Couture pajamas as if she’d been home all night. The sound of the door slamming and furniture being kicked around told the tale of him being hot under the collar.
When he finally made his way to the bedroom, Danielle jumped out of the bed and tended to him as he fell through the door. He had his driver’s blood all over him, and a little blood of his own ran down his neck.
“Baby, what happened?” Danielle screamed, putting on her best award-winning act.
He could barely talk through his alcohol-slurred voice. It was obvious that he had made his way to a bar before he got there, and clearly, he had more than his body could handle. He finally got to his feet with Danielle’s help, and it wasn’t long before the vomit came up. He was sick, but not the typical type, rather the mental. Nothing could compare to him seeing the last of his money driving away.
“Mafuckas got me, babe. Dem mafuckas got me,” he managed to get out while leaning over the bathtub. “I’m broke, I’m broke,” he cried out between spurts of vomit.
Danielle just sat on the edge of the tub, patting his back and rubbing her fingers on his bald head. She found it hard to hold back the urge to laugh at how pitiful he
sounded. It was a vicious game she was playing, but in her eyes, she had him right where she wanted him.
Chapter 10
Everything around her had stopped moving, or was moving at a slower pace. Joi lifted her head up from the bar; the bags under her eyes, her pale skin, and chapped lips made her appear to be one of the walking dead. As she turned her head she saw the glimmer of Ariana’s chrome revolver flicker in the light. Joi grabbed her gun from behind the bar. Ariana stood only a few feet from her smiling.
“What the fuck?” Joi said, staring wide-eyed at Ariana. Joi began firing at Ariana, who never attempted to dodge any of the bullets that were coming her way. Joi blinked her eyes as she tried to see what the hell was coming out of her gun because the bullets appeared to disintegrate before reaching Ariana. Ariana smiled at Joi when she heard the clicking of the gun, signaling that her clip was empty. Joi turned and jumped over the bar; she began to run as Ariana chased her. Bullets shattered bottles of alcohol as Ariana continued firing at Joi. Joi screamed as a bullet ripped into her back causing her legs to stop running, and her body to fall to the ground. She felt a sting in the center of her back, that took her to the ground.
“Bitch,” Ariana growled as she walked up to Joi, and kicked her in the stomach with such that it knocked Joi on her back. Joi looked up at the barrel of the gun, as the hammer clicked.
“Joi! Joi! Wake up!” Sanaa yelled, shaking Joi’s shoulder.
Right at the moment Ariana pulled the trigger Joi woke up out of her nightmare. She was out of breath, and had the fear of God in her eyes when she grabbed Sanaa.
Sanaa wrapped her arms around her, but not before almost falling off the bed. “It was a dream, Joi,” Sanaa whispered in her ear as she tried to comfort her.
Joi wasn’t convinced right away, still feeling the bullet wound to her back where Ariana shot her while she was asleep. It took a few minutes, but eventually Joi reached over and grabbed the bottle of spring water off the nightstand.
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