Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 4

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Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 4 Page 3

by J. M. Benjamin


  “He dies, you die!” Baby cut Dr. Jackson’s words short and finished his sentence for him. Her gun was now pressed up against Dr. Jackson’s forehead.

  He squeezed his eyes tightly and then opened them. “Young lady, think for a second. Why risk the life of this man, who you apparently love and will ride to the end of the earth for, over something so small? I promise you I will do my best to save this young man’s life, but I need you to trust me and wait out there.” Dr. Jackson hoped his words burst through Baby’s young mind. “And, you can leave the door open so you can see in here,” he added.

  Baby lowered her weapon and nodded.

  “Thank you.” Dr. Jackson let out a deep sigh.

  Baby backpedaled out of Dr. Jackson’s operating room and into the hallway. Baby stood a short distance away from the door. She had a clear view of Dr. Jackson and Treacherous. She watched as Treacherous’s life lay in the hands of a total stranger.

  A little over two hours had gone by, and there was still no word from the doctor. Baby’s eyes grew heavy as she watched Dr. Jackson’s every move. She twisted and turned in the uncomfortable plastic gray chair with cold metal hinges that held it together. Every so often, she could feel herself doze off and would jump out of her nod. The more time went by, the heavier Baby’s eyes became though. She tried to shake it off a final time but sleep got the best of her. She slipped into a deep slumber.

  Baby could hear Treacherous moaning in the other room from the pain. She fought with the need to leap out of the chair and run to his aid. She could hear other moans in the distance, from someone else. She turned in the direction from which the additional moans were coming. A glow from a light source produced itself from somewhere in the corner. The more intense it got, the more puzzled Baby became. She stared at it with squinted eyes. Baby could tell that something or someone was directly behind it, but she could not make the figure out. The light itself was warm and inviting. So much so that it made her uncomfortable. Baby caught a whiff of a smell, a familiar smell. She wasn’t quite sure what it was but she knew she had smelled it before. The glow from the light got dimmer. She tried to walk toward it but somehow could not. She felt restrained; her whole body was attempting to move forward but something was holding it back.

  “Come closer,” a voice uttered.

  It was a familiar voice, but she knew it couldn’t be who it sounded like. Baby extended her arm in an attempt to touch the source of the voice, only to feel nothing but air. She tried again to move forward; this time she was allowed to take one step, and only one step. Suddenly, the light was gone. It was replaced by the faint sound of a rumble and rocks being thrown up against a wall or something. Just then, Baby felt liquid run down her skin. She quickly looked at it. Blood rolled down the inside of her arm. She followed its flow as it disappeared into the darkness.

  Baby again attempted to take another step only to run into an object. She peered down at what seemed to be a chair. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of a pair of spread legs. Baby was baffled; she didn’t know where she was and she couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. Baby jumped as a hand brushed across her stomach. The touch was foreign to her. Baby tried to remove the hand but she couldn’t. It was as if she was frozen still. The unfamiliar hand traveled down Baby’s belly until it reached near her inner thighs. Baby’s body trembled as her heart skipped every other beat. The touch of the hand had her feeling a way she had never felt before. It moved farther and farther between Baby’s inner thighs until it reached its final destination. Baby’s body quivered as she bit down on her bottom lip. Without thinking, she spread her legs and welcomed the unknown hand that was now massaging her clitoris. Someone was touching her where no one should have been. She thought of moving away from the hand but her body disagreed with her. She just stood there. Baby allowed the hand to make circles with her button. She began to grind her hips in a circular motion as the hand inserted two fingers inside of her. Baby threw her head back and looked up into darkness. She closed her eyes and took in the feeling of the orgasm that was building. She caressed her own neck, fiddled with her own breast, and pulled at her own nipple.

  “Closer,” the voice interrupted.

  This time, the voice was clearer. Baby thought she may have recognized it. It belonged to a woman. Baby couldn’t believe it. Guilt and shame swept through her body. Still, she could not break free of the hand. It continued to fondle Baby. You could hear the juices from her wetness coming from between her legs.

  “Hi, baby girl,” the voice whispered, revealing itself for the first time.

  Baby cringed with fear. The voice was now unmistakably clear. Baby fought her hardest to break free of the touch. The more she struggled, the more restraint she felt. She felt a tight grip on her right shoulder. She shifted back and forth with all her might until she had finally broken free.

  “Young lady. Young lady,” Dr. Jackson repeated. He had been shaking Baby for the past five minutes, trying to wake her from what he believed to be a nightmare.

  Baby opened her eyes to see a blurry image hovering over her. She drew her gun in record-breaking speed.

  “Whoa!” Dr. Jackson threw up his hands. “You were having a nightmare of some sort,” he informed her. “I was only trying to help and to see if you were okay,” he added with fearful eyes.

  Baby’s vision had been fully restored. She cleared her throat and finally spoke. “I’m good! I’m good!” Her words came out in quick succession.

  Dr. Jackson stared at her for a moment before speaking again. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Baby spat. “Now, back up! You too close.” She waved the doctor off.

  Dr. Jackson took a deep breath and said, “I’ve done all I can.” He felt he had just performed the best and most memorable surgery of his life and career. He knew he would never forget that day, for many reasons.

  “I hope so.” She stood up. “For your sake,” she added.

  Dr. Jackson grimaced. “You can take him home now. I have him in a wheelchair already. You can use it to get him to the car.” He didn’t mind parting with the wheelchair. It was a reminder of his injury, something he felt he should have gotten rid of years ago.

  “Thanks.” Baby reached into her pocket and pulled out a hundred dollars.

  “Keep your money.” Dr. Jackson frowned. He rejected the extended hundred dollar bill. “I have a pretty strong feeling you’re going to need it.” He added abruptly, “Now please go.” He shot Baby a look of disgust.

  “Watch your fuckin’ tone, muthafucka!” Baby boomed. Her gun was now pointed in Dr. Jackson’s direction. Her nostrils flared.

  The doctor chuckled. “I just saved your man’s life and this is how you want to repay me?” he asked.

  She stared at the doctor long and hard with beady eyes. She was tired of his sly remarks. She snorted and gritted her teeth. It was nothing to kill the doctor, she thought. But he was right. He had saved her man’s life and didn’t deserve what she may have done to him. She lowered her weapon.

  “Thanks again.” She shot him a smug look before she spun around and made her way into the room where Treacherous was. Minutes later, she had Treacherous secured in the car and had started putting distance between them and the veterinarian.

  Now, she drove around looking for somewhere for them to lay low. The city seemed to be asleep, thought Baby as she cruised through it. It didn’t look the way she had remembered it. Stores that were once thriving were now boarded up or had FOR RENT signs in the windows. This was her hometown but it didn’t feel or look like it. Home was a distant memory to her. If someone were to have told her to bet money that this was how her life would turn out she would have bet every dime she owned and lost.

  Her mind was racing a million miles a minute. She felt as if she were all screwed up in the head. The resentment toward her mother resurfaced at the thought. She became flustered as her thoughts traveled back to the mini episode she had back at the veterinarian’s office. Her feelings wer
e on an emotional roller coaster ride. She had never experienced anything like what she was feeling at that moment. She didn’t know whether to classify what had happened as a dream or nightmare.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the neon lights that illuminated from her far left. Baby noticed the blinking sign that read CHEAP ROOMS. She hoped cheap rooms meant they’d rent to people without IDs. She knew there were places around the city that rented by the hour with no questions asked. She figured that would be perfect for them for now, just until Treacherous recuperated. She pulled the new stolen vehicle into the motel parking lot and parked a distance away from the lobby entrance. She didn’t want to risk anyone seeing Treacherous laid out in the car.

  As she reached the lobby door, Baby took a deep breath. She didn’t want to seem suspicious or come across as overzealous. Once she felt she had it together, she entered the establishment. She was greeted with a smile.

  “May I help you?” the young, freckle-faced, red-haired Caucasian male asked.

  The first thing Baby noticed was the NO ID REQUIRED sign propped up on the counter. She was relieved when she saw it.

  “Yes, I’d like a room.”

  Chapter Five

  Detective Arthur Love’s head rose up at the sound of rapid knocks on the other side of his office door. Although it was good to be back to work, he had given specific instructions not to be disturbed. He knew he had much to do in little time.

  “Who is it?” he bellowed. The irritation was apparent in his tone.

  “The police,” the familiar voice replied.

  Arthur Love chuckled. “Come in.”

  The office door swung open and in walked Andre Randle. The first thing Arthur Love noticed was the bandage he bore on the left side of his face. This was actually the first time the two of them had seen each other since the hospital.

  “Good to see you, Randle,” Love greeted him.

  “Yeah, you too,” Randle replied. The two men exchanged friendly hugs. “How are you?”

  “I’ve seen better days, you know. Aside from being a little sore and having to use this cane from time to time, I’m good,” Love concluded.

  “Same here,” Randle agreed. “Shoulder’s a little stiff and the face is little sore. Gonna leave a nasty scar, but I’ll live.”

  They shared agreeing smiles.

  “So what’s on your mind and what’s the latest?” Arthur Love wasted no time asking. He was certain Andre Randle had hopped right back on the trail that landed them both in the hospital.

  “This case!” Randle replied. “That’s why I called,” he added.

  Arthur Love nodded. “Yeah, I figured. That’s all I’ve been able to think about. Nothing else,” Arthur Love confessed.

  It was Andre Randle’s turn to nod. “So, what you got for us?” he questioned.

  “Not sure yet,” Love retorted. “But the plot thickens.” He shook his head.

  “Talk to me.” Andre Randle leaned in.

  “A lot has come out while we were in the hospital.” Love took a deep breath. “The old man who was killed at the pawnshop was at the top of the chain.”

  “I know. I saw it on the news.” Randle grimaced.

  “The goddamn head . . .” He paused. “Of the Irish mob,” he continued with a frown plastered across his face. “Jeezus!” He shook his head. His mind was all over the place. “I mean, I knew they existed in these parts and yeah, the pawnshop had come up many times in connection to organized crime in the city.” He took another deep breath. “But nobody knew that Sammy Black and the old man killed in the pawnshop were one and the same.” He was now out of his chair and on his feet.

  “The funny thing is I’d been hearing shit, since I was a fuckin’ kid, about murders and legendary heists. There’d always been rumors and speculation about that place. A few of us never believed it was just rumors though.” He placed his hands behind his back and came from behind his desk. He walked over and peered out of his office’s blinds. Everything seemed to be functioning on its normal operation to him. He turned to face Randle then continued. “We had a couple of snitches here and there who claimed to know something, but before they could produce, they’d come up missing and then we’d be back to nothing.” Love shook his head. “None of the locals can get any strong tips or leads to run up in there either,” he added.

  “That’s because a place like that would have the locals paid off,” Randle jumped in. “That’s how that works,” he stated as if he spoke the words straight out of the gospel.

  “I’ve personally never heard of your boy Sammy Black because the mess you guys make, don’t generally spill into our backyard, but we have our share of Sammy Blacks.” He went on, “Any type of way somebody is getting away with committing crimes right under our nose for a lengthy period of time, some people, not only in law enforcement, are usually getting their palms greased.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just didn’t want to believe that.”

  “That’s because you’re true blue to the shield,” Andre Randle commended him.

  Arthur Love nodded appreciatively. He sat back down behind his desk then drew his eyes to the paper in front of him. “Sammy Black, born Samuel Duff in Ireland, migrated to Virginia in 1962 at the young age of six. Rap sheet as a juvenile is as long as my arm, but nothing on him after that. The name, Duff, means ‘black’ in Irish. Ironic huh? Think that’s where the name Sammy Black comes from?” He wondered.

  Andre Randle was stone-faced. “Art, these fucking guys don’t play,” he stated.

  “No shit,” Love agreed. “He may not have been found guilty on anything, but this Sammy Black has been linked to some serious shit,” he informed Randle. “Aside from what I’ve heard and already know, I’ve been gathering up more information about him. Been reading up on him and his family. They’ve been tied to everything from murder and extortion to arson and gambling. It seems like they’re mostly known for gambling though,” he said, drawing a conclusion. “The son, Sammy Black Jr., has been arrested, and fined on some and acquitted on other allegations of illegal gambling.”

  “Was anything reported stolen?”

  “Of course not,” Arthur Love immediately shot back. “But one of my guys was told that there was a spot set up in the back that was being used for gambling.”

  “So there had to be something taken.” Randle grimaced. “I’ll call my guys and see what I can find out.”

  “Yeah, because I’m sure something of value was taken. What sense would it make to hit the place and just kill this guy? Unless the kid had a vendetta against the ol’ man.”

  “I doubt that,” Randle shot down the theory. “This kid’s never been outside of the seven cities prior to being admitted into the mental institution. He grew up in group homes; he didn’t even know his parents until his mother kidnapped him from one of the group homes. No, that was about money and survival. I know you don’t want to hear it, but your daughter could have very well heard you or somebody else talking about that spot. You said it yourself: she’s a survivor and she’s definitely familiar with area. Could have been her call,” Randle pointed out. Any decent detective could have drawn that conclusion, so he was sure Arthur Love could see the picture. He was right.

  “Yeah, that’s the most logical scenario.” A sharp pain jolted through Love’s head. Despite all that had transpired, he did not want to believe that his daughter was the monster being hunted. “Dammit, Baby!” he yelled out. He then took a deep breath and exhaled.

  Andre Randle sat and waited until Arthur Love pulled himself back together. “If what we said is the case, then not only will our guys be looking for them, Sammy Black’s people will be also.”

  “I know, I know,” Arthur Love retorted. The thought had been at the forefront of his mind all day. He’d rather his daughter spend the rest of her life in prison than be tortured, possibly raped, and killed by some cartel.

  “We gotta find them before they do. Before everybody,” he put emphasis on his statement
to demonstrate he meant business.

  “You’re right,” Arthur Love replied. “We may have something.” Arthur Love paused. “Maybe.”

  “What is it?”

  “White cab driver reported he was robbed by some hooker fitting the description of Baby. Said she needed a taxi and then pulled out a gun on him demanding he take her to Chamberlain and Lombardy.”

  “Any sign of Treacherous?”

  “No, he said it was just a prostitute.”

  “Why would you think that was her?” Randle asked, not seeing any connection himself.

  “I didn’t at first. Not until the investigating officer told me how he got the taxi driver to reveal what really happened.”

  “I’m listening.” Randle was all ears.

  “Apparently, the girl was standing alongside the curb trying to flag down a taxi. He pulls up on her and rolls the window down asking does she need a taxi. She tells him yeah, but she doesn’t have any money but has something else to offer. Says against his better judgment he lets her in and he makes his way to the nearest blind spot.”

  “So, he’s confessing to solicitation?” Randle chuckled.

  Love joined him in laughter. “That’s the look of it. Poor guy pissed and shit himself.” His laughter increased. “Admits to getting his pants open right before she popped him upside the head with a pistol, shoved him to the ground and kicked him up the ass before making him count to a thousand while she made her get-a-way.”

  Randle’s eyes grew wide. “Are you kiddin’ me?”

  “Scout’s honor.” Love threw up the Boy Scout sign with his two fingers.

  Randle shook his head in disbelief. He still had the grin on his face from laughing. “You think that was her scoring another car.” It was more of a statement than question.

  “Possible.” Love nodded. “We’re waiting on a call now as to the whereabouts of the taxi. It has a tracking device on it. We should be—” Before he could finish his sentence, a second knock on his office door interrupted him. “Yes!”

 

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