“Who’s asking?” he shot back.
Thomas moved his suit jacket to the side, flashing his badge and gun. As he was doing that, Sanaa came out of her office with some financial papers in her hand. The detective caught her by surprise, and for a minute, she thought that it was the Feds finally coming to get her.
Yellow, not knowing about Sanaa’s legal problems back in Atlanta, pointed right at her.
Sanaa was about two seconds away from taking off like she was in the one hundred yard dash. The only reason that she didn’t was because the detective looked at her like he didn’t know who the hell she was. If it was the Feds, she’d already be on the ground with her hands behind her back.
“Can I help you?” Sanaa asked boldly, making her way over to the detective.
“Yes, I’m investigating a homicide that took place last night in the alleyway behind your building.”
Again, Sanaa was ready to break. It didn’t help any that she had a compact .45 automatic sticking out of her back waist. That alone was probable cause for him to dig a little deeper.
“We believe he was at your club before he got shot. He had on one of your admission bracelets,” the detective continued.
“Oh, God,” Sanaa said, placing her hand over her mouth in shock in her best shocked expression. “Who was he?”
The detective went on to explain as much as he could about the victim, but he wanted Sanaa to come out back to see if she knew the guy. Reluctantly, she agreed, but she was more concerned about what she was going to say when the detective saw the gun in her back. As Sanaa followed the detective out the door, Yellow came from behind the bar and acted like he was going to follow them out, but he didn’t. Instead, he simply walked up behind Sanaa, grabbed the gun from off her back, and tucked it away in his back pocket.
Sanaa felt it and was relieved as she headed around to the alley with the detective.
Ariana’s flight landed in Philly at just after two o’clock in the afternoon. She and Olivia hated flying, but they had made the sacrifice for the greater good of the mission.
“‘Hotel party. Best Bikini. Best Dancer. Win Grand Prize,’” Olivia read from a flyer she had picked up off the floor. They were all over the airport. “Look, they even said it’s going to be some local rappers there, too,” she said, showing Ariana the flyer. “You think we can have some fun while we’re in Philly?” Olivia asked.
Ariana smiled, knowing how much of a party freak she used to be. The weather was so beautiful, even Ariana fought the urge to party a little. But of course, business always came before pleasure. She didn’t plan to draw out the confrontation between her and Joi anyway. On sight, no matter who was around or what Joi was doing, Ariana was going to kill her, and that was going to be the end of it. If Sanaa was there, she was getting hit too. The only problem Ariana had at this point was getting guns and ammo for her and Olivia, that along with finding out where Joi was.
“So, are you ready for Atlantic City?” Danielle asked Kemo as he walked into the room, drinking a bottle of spring water.
“No, not yet. The club is having a party at the Loews Hotel. They got a nice chunk of money, and I know I can take the house,” he told Danielle. “I can’t take 70K out to Atlantic City and expect to do what I do. Getting caught ain’t what I plan on doing. They would put me away for the rest of my life, or get my ass beat down. I’m damn Billy the Kid in most of these places. They might shoot to kill, instead of sending my ass up the river! My face would be posted in every casino if I get caught.”
Kemo had learned from the mistakes he made in Las Vegas and in other casinos. This time, he had to be a lot smarter if he was going to walk away from one of the United States’ largest casino strips with millions of dollars. Right now, hitting Sanaa for a few hundred grand was a good start.
“I need more money before we go out there. We should be good by next week.”
Danielle put up no argument with what Kemo was saying. She knew that when it came down to cards, Kemo knew what was best. All it took on her part was being a little patient, something she’d been for over a year now.
Kemo walked over to the bed where Danielle was lying, grabbed her by the ankles, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He stood over top of her with nothing but a pair of sweatpants on, showing off his ripped body and dark chocolate skin tone. Whether she liked it or not, it turned her on to see him focused the way he was on making money.
As he reached in to try to take off the tank top she was wearing, Danielle quickly remembered the two bruises on her chest and stomach from when Kemo had shot her. She had tried to nurse them, but her white skin made it virtually impossible. Kemo was far from stupid, and if he saw those bruises, it would take him no time to grab the gun off the nightstand and put a bullet in her head. Danielle knew it, and she had to think fast on her feet.
She smacked his hands down, sat up on the edge of the bed, and snatched his sweatpants down to his ankles. She looked up at him, taking his half-hardened dick into her mouth. With one hand rubbing his chest and the other hand on his waist, Danielle pushed his dick as far down her throat as she possibly could. Kemo just threw his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the warm, wet, soft mouth of Danielle. She took his hand and placed it on the back of her head, encouraging him to guide her head to the rhythm of his choice.
“Shittt,” he grunted, grabbing a handful of her hair and pushing his dick farther down her throat.
His hand went from grabbing her head, to sliding down the center of her back. Before Danielle could react, he had pulled the tank top over her head. She backed up just enough for him to remove the tank top. At this point, Danielle looked over at the gun on the nightstand. If anybody was going to get to it first, it was going to be her.
Think, think, think, she thought, looking up at Kemo.
In one swift move, Danielle rolled over on her stomach, arched her ass up in the air, and looked back at Kemo. There was hesitation, but not because Kemo had seen the bruises; rather he took a moment to admire the scene. She knew how to use her body when it counted, and without further ado, Kemo stepped up, placed his hand on the top of her ass cheeks, and guided his thick, long dick into her soft, warm jelly jar. She inhaled through her teeth, taking it all in, looking back at her ass clapping against his pelvis. He started pounding away, watching through the mirror in front of him as Danielle’s titties bounced around low to the bed. Danielle had to hurry up and get it over with, despite how good it was feeling.
She reached back, grabbed her ass and spread her cheeks apart so that Kemo could go deeper inside of her. “Deeper, deeper,” Danielle yelled out. “Harder, K. Fuck me harder,” she screamed, throwing her ass back at him.
Kemo could feel himself about to cum. He kept stroking, harder and deeper. Danielle’s pussy was so wet he could hear his dick splashing around in her. He grabbed her waist with both of his hands and sped up his strokes. Danielle knew that he was about to cum. She could feel it. She could also feel herself at the tip of a climax.
“I’m cumming,” she yelled, slamming her ass against him.
Kemo was at his point too, and released his thick, warm cum inside of her. He kept stroking until every bit of it was out of him and inside her. The cum from Danielle’s pussy formed a creamy-colored paste around the base of his dick.
Danielle fell to her stomach, using the opportunity to conceal the two bruises. This gave her all the reasons she needed to lie there until the opportunity presented itself for her to put her clothes back on. It happened sooner than she thought, because Kemo headed straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
Sanaa walked back into the club where Royce and Yellow were waiting. Yellow did his best to bring Royce up to speed about what was going on, as if Royce didn’t know already. She didn’t say a word, but headed straight to her office. Royce followed, waving for Yellow to stay put.
Royce could see a bit of irritation in Sanaa’s face as she plopped down in her chair. The detective had a million and one
questions for Sanaa, even after she was unable to identify the body. It appeared that the man was in the club at some point, which prompted Thomas to ask questions about the club’s security and surveillance. He was adamant about finding out what happened, but as much as he tried to dig, Sanaa dismissed everything that suggested the club could be the reason for his death. For a minute, it felt like he was starting to interrogate Sanaa. That’s when she cut the interview short, leaving him with one of her business cards as a form of contact.
“You know you can’t go around killing everybody who finds out about the money,” Royce joked, but in a serious way.
“Yeah, I know,” she replied, rubbing her temples. “That’s why I got to hurry up and move this money before dis shit gets out.”
“No, you need to reconsider that deal you did wit’ Boo and just stop while you’re ahead,” Royce sincerely suggested, plopping down in the chair in front of the desk.
Sanaa had already considered that, and had set up a meeting with Boo for after the hotel party. She felt she had maybe bitten off more than she could chew for the first time in her life. She just didn’t want to cut Boo off and be on bad terms. It’s crazy, because if Sanaa wanted to, she could have moved every last counterfeit bill, given time. Either way, something was going to have to give, because at this rate, she was going to end up going to jail anyway and maybe for something far worse than what she was doing.
Ariana and Olivia checked into the Loews Hotel having gotten the idea from the flyers in the airport. The flyers were everywhere and not just the airport. Ariana figured she would let Olivia let her hair down a little, since they didn’t have their guns yet. A little networking tonight would change the firearm situation. Philly was known for guns. Ariana knew that, because most of the guns floating around in New York came from down South. Getting the guns was just a matter of who you knew in the city, and with pretty faces like hers and Olivia’s it wasn’t going to be hard for them to find some young thugs to accommodate them with what they need.
Chapter 14
Some of Philly’s most beautiful women poured into the Loews Hotel, some as guests and others just there for the party. The music from the DJ mixing on the turntables greeted everyone the moment they walked into the lobby. For those men and women who had keys, they were able to go straight to their room without having to check in at the desk.
The setup was crazy. Sanaa had rented out one hundred rooms, occupying the entire fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth floors of the hotel. The east wing was connected to the indoor Olympic swimming pool, which Sanaa pretty much owned for the next two days. The access to the ballroom was a plus, too, where people had a place to dance during the evening hours.
Sleepy was in charge of selling the rooms, at which he did an excellent job, having sold eighty-five rooms out of the hundred in less than three days. Most of the hustlers jumped on the rooms immediately, anticipating fuckin’ at the end of the night. The females who purchased the rooms were mainly strippers, who knew that the majority of their hustle would be taking place that evening after the parties were over.
Joi was the star of the show when she made her debut into the pool area. When she took off the extra-large T-shirt, all heads turned, and there were a lot of beautiful women there. She had a Charlie polka dot and stripe print bikini, and a pair of black Bernardo leather sandals. On her face was a pair of large, blue square frames. To be the age of forty-one, she gave every female in the building who looked like something a run for their money. No fat, no stretch marks, and definitely no signs of aging. Joi had to be in the top three out of about 250 women at the party.
Sanaa looked tough too, rockin’ a one piece, open-stomach Louis Vuitton bathing suit, some sandals, and a pair of large-frame Gucci shades. She too was getting a lot of attention, especially from one of the lifeguards.
The party was doing everything Sanaa had expected it to do. The pool area was jumping. People were vibing to the party music, niggas on the bleachers were kicking their best game to the lovely ladies, and a group of people had even turned a small section of the deck into a dance floor. It was bananas, and there wasn’t a displeased look on anyone’s face.
“You might have outdone yourself this time, baby girl,” Joi yelled to Sanaa over the music.
“I know. We should have been done this,” she responded, playfully dodging some water from a nigga doing a cannonball right in front of them.
Not only did the party have a financial purpose; it also served as relaxation. It gave Joi and Sanaa the opportunity to let their hair down and have some fun for a change. It was just the thing they needed in their lives.
“Are you going to need my help upstairs?” Joi asked Sanaa, knowing that it wouldn’t be that much longer before Sanaa made her way up to the rooms for another portion of the party.
Even through all the fun she was having, Sanaa was still in business mode, having set up shop in the hotel for some executive gambling. She had taken five of the largest suites and converted them into gambling rooms. Although she couldn’t bring some of the portable replicas of the poker tabletop game she had in the club, she managed to make do with the blackjack and slot machines. She had even made a ticket for the basketball finals, with odds taking Miami over Oklahoma in less than seven games. Yeah, Sanaa was having a little fun, but her mind was still on the money and the money was always on her mind.
Ariana looked out her window at all the cars pulling up to the hotel, and she could see crowds of people walking around and into the building. She was up so high on the twenty-second floor that she really couldn’t see the faces of the people at all, plus she was on the west wing of the building, away from the action.
Just as she was looking out the window, Olivia came bursting into the room, excited and half dressed. Ariana looked at her with a silly grin, remembering what she had left out in, and amused at the fact that she was now returning wearing a bikini and some Daisy Dukes. She even had a bottle of Ace in her hand, chilled as if she had just pulled it out of a bucket of ice.
“Since you ain’t goin’ to the party, I’m bringing the party to you,” Olivia joked, popping the top of the bottle.
“Girl, I ain’t got no time to party right now. I’m about to meet up wit’ the dude, Nick, to get the guns,” Ariana replied, turning back to finish looking out of the window.
She had gone straight to the hood last night after getting settled in and she met a dude who knew another dude who sold guns. Because she was a female, Ariana set the meeting up to take place in a public place in the middle of the day. She was staying on the safe side, being in a foreign land. Cute face and all, Ariana was taking a chance that could turn out to be detrimental for her health, fuckin’ around in the streets of Philly.
Ariana just stood by the window, rubbing her finger inside the bullet wound in her stomach. It was the same bullet that took her baby’s life, and she took comfort in touching the only memory she had left of her unborn child. It was a pain she had to live with for the rest of her life, and at times, when she drifted off into space, Olivia could tell that she was thinking about it.
“Don’t worry, baby girl. You’ll get ya chance,” Olivia said, walking over to stand next to Ariana by the window. “You just make sure that when you do, you go hard as a muthafucka. And know for sure that I’ma be right wit’ you until we bury everything moving, or get buried ourselves,” she assured.
Despite only knowing each other for a few months, they had become best friends. Olivia was actually the one who found Ariana’s body lying in the parking lot of the hospital. She was only a nurse’s assistant at the time, but she was able to get a weak pulse after performing CPR on Ariana for about three minutes. From that day forth, they were inseparable, and Olivia chose the street life under the guardianship of Ariana. For her, she was willing to go the distance.
“Now, I’ma be down by the pool area if you need me,” Danielle told Kemo, who was standing outside the door of the blackjack room.
Her position was
clear, and that was that. If Kemo was to get into trouble with the cards, she would come get him up out of the there, even if it was by force. She was also the decoy he needed in the event he hit for a large amount of money and it was time to go. At the same time, if Kemo miscounted the cards, and was starting to lose the money, she would come get him off the table so that he could restart. She had her purpose for being around, and the things she did were needed.
Kemo walked into the room, and from the beginning, he liked what he saw. A couple of local ballers he was familiar with sat around at tables smoking cigars and sipping on hard liquor. Walking farther in, he could see that the room was adjacent to another room that held another blackjack table.
“Coffee, soda, juice, cigarettes,” the waitress announced, walking past with a bikini on, holding a tray.
Kemo just took in the scene for a moment before finding his way over to the table. It was like some mob-style shit goin’ on, and Kemo fit in perfectly, slamming fifty grand on the table and asking for chips.
Off the break, Carla, the dealer, recognized the counterfeit bills and immediately looked over at Will, the pit boss. He was even stuck for a second, wondering what he should do. Carla looked at the money on the table; without touching it she immediately recognized the flaw in the seal around the president’s face. She only recognized it having seen one or two nights ago, and having been educated by her boy, Dolpha. Dolpha was an engraver and he had sold some moneymaking plates a few years back to some of his boys. They had later complained about the flaw in the plate to him; they damn near beat the shit out of him. He was spared because he was a master at what he did, and they knew it.
Kemo looked up at both of them, trying to figure out why his money was still on the table. Sanaa walking through the door was like a savior. She was immediately summoned to the table.
Girls From Da Hood 10 Page 18