by Jade Jones
“Please! I’m begging you!” Tara cried. “He’s just a kid—”
“I don’t give a fuck!” he sneered.
“Man, put that bitch to sleep. She ain’t talkin’, fam,” Kaniel said. Usually, he was never first to take a life, but lately he didn’t give a fuck. Ever since he buried his baby brother, he’d been on a killing spree. As twisted and sick as it was, it offered him peace.
Tony—the head of the operation—walked in the room with his pistol loaded. He took one look at his son being held hostage and raised his gun. Seven years trapping out of his crib, and he’d never once been robbed until now. Most people knew better than to fuck with him, because of the niggas he was affiliated with. But Quay and his gang obviously didn’t give a damn about all that. They were acting on their own set of orders.
“So this how you pussy ass niggas operate? Runnin’ up in cribs, snatchin’ kids and shit. You ain’t no fuckin’ man! You a coward, fuck nigga.”
Quay gritted his teeth in anger as he listened to Tony talk shit. He knew that by the end of the night he would kill him. “My nut ain’t make this lil’ faggot. If I was you I’d watch ya mufuckin’ words,” he warned.
Tony took it down a notch once he realized he had the right one. “Look, my son ain’t got nothin’ to do with this bullshit. Let him go and let’s talk like men.”
“Mufucka, do it look like I wanna negotiate right now?!” Quay yelled. Even with his face covered, the anger in his hazel eyes was unmistakable. The barrel of his gun was pressed firmly against Trent’s scalp. He hadn’t stopped crying since Quay grabbed him. “I want what the fuck I came for! Now stop bullshittin’ or I’mma lay this lil’ nigga down! Is that what the fuck you want?”
Gina—Tony’s wife and the mother of his son—walked up beside him. She was almost afraid to come downstairs, but she needed to make sure Trent was okay. Gina, Tony, and Tara were all on some freak shit. They lived together, fucked each other regularly, and slept in the same bed every night. They’d been hustling together for years, and Tony would be damned if he let some young punks ride on him.
Tony continued to hold his ground and Beretta. “I ain’t comin’ up off shit, bruh—”
POW!
Quay didn’t bat an eyelash when he blew a hole through the innocent boy’s head. Gina screamed as her son’s body dropped limply in slow motion.
“YOU MOTHAFUCKA!” Tony screamed, charging at Quay. Kaniel stopped him in his tracks with a shot to the torso. Lead pellets ripped through his chest cavity, painfully tearing open every organ in his upper body.
Gina let out a high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream that lasted all of two seconds, before Quay put a bullet in her brain. By then, Tara had already succumbed to blood loss.
“I’m tired of fuckin’ bullshittin’. Find the bud and the cash so we can get the fuck up outta here,” Quay told his boys.
They quickly proceeded to ransack the home, in search of the hidden treasure. As they trashed the trap house, Quay slowly approached Tony lying sprawled out on the floor. He was still somehow holding onto a tiny shred of life. Coughing and choking on his own blood, he stared at the stucco ceiling in sadness. He prayed death came quick…but Quay stalled.
Firing up a blunt, he took several tokes. Quay felt no sympathy or remorse for his cynical actions. Killing a child was probably only the fifth worst thing he’d ever done in life. “Shit hurts, don’t it? Knowin’ they blood is on yo’ mufuckin’ hands…”
Tony gurgled and wheezed dramatically. His insides felt like they were on fire. Suffering from a slow painful death was intolerable, but he’d brought it upon himself.
“You stupid, stubborn mufucka,” Quay said, shaking his head. “You should’ve just given me what the fuck I wanted. I mean…I prolly would’ve killed ya’ll asses anyway…but at least you would’ve died with some nobility.”
“Fuck…you,” Tony struggled to say.
Quay kneeled down beside him and surveyed the damage. Tony’s abdomen was shredded up so badly, that he could see his intestines spilling out. Quay was unapologetic as he forced his automatic inside the dying man’s mouth.
Cackling evilly, he said, “Nah, nigga. You fucked yaself.”
POP!
10
It was a little after two in the morning when Liberty finally made it back home. The moment she stuck her key in the front door it swung open from the opposite end. Luke looked startled and apprehensive, and she knew instantly that something was wrong.
“’Bout time you here. Yo’ Trip came through ‘bout an hour ago wildin’! Bitch was bangin’ all on the doors and windows and shit. Man, you need to do somethin’ with that hoe. I’m sick of her ass,” he complained.
Luke’s 16-year girlfriend Tiffany tiptoed out his bedroom in his oversized tee. Normally, Liberty didn’t like for him to have company when she wasn’t home, but he was 17 and at the phase where he was going to do what the fuck he wanted to.
Liberty quickly stepped inside and locked the doors behind her. “Did you call the police?”
“No. But I started to go out there and drag that bitch. She be doin’ the most.”
Liberty bit her tongue because she knew Luke was only showing out for Tiffany. At 5”2 and 130 lbs. soaking wet, he wasn’t physically capable of beating Trip’s ass. Instead of reminding him that, she went to the windows and peered outside to make sure her ex wasn’t parked out front. She then made sure each one of the windows was securely locked.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did! Yo’ ass wasn’t answering!”
Liberty figured the loud music must’ve drowned out the sound of her phone ringing. Speaking of which, it started vibrating right then inside of her purse. She half-expected the caller to be Trip, but she was surprised when she saw Apollo’s name flash across her screen. She still couldn’t believe she let his slick ass talk her into giving him her number. Liberty hadn’t dated a guy in almost four years.
“Hello?”
Luke and Tiffany went back to his bedroom so she could have some privacy.
“Aye, I’m just seein’ if you made it to the crib.”
“I—uh—I did.”
“Wus good? You sound like something’s up. I ain’t hit you with the Mister around, did I?” he teased. Liberty told him she was single, but nowadays you could never be too sure.
“I’m fine. Just a lil’ shaken up since my ex was here while I was away. My brother was home alone and the shit is bothersome. I knew I shouldn’t have gone out,” she said, blaming herself. Liberty couldn’t even enjoy life without Trip being on some bullshit.
“You need me to come through?” Apollo offered. He could hear it in Liberty’s tone that she was obviously afraid of her ex. However, fear didn’t live in his heart. He didn’t give a fuck about bodying a mothafucka.
“No. I should be fine for the night.”
“Nah, fuck that. I’mma come through. If the nigga pop up while I’m there I’mma handle it. What’s ya address?”
“You really don’t have to, Apol—”
“What’s ya address?” he insisted.
Liberty hesitated. She did find comfort in knowing that Trip wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing with him around. She’d already beaten on up her little brother. Let’s see her try that shit with Apollo.
Liberty rattled off her address. “I have to warn you,” she began. “This ain’t Beverly Hills,” she joked.
Apollo laughed. “I’m from mufuckin’ Compton, bay. I done seen it all.”
***
“I shouldn’t even be letting your troublesome ass come here,” Kim said with her back to Desmond. They’d just pulled up to her crib a few minutes ago. She hadn’t even put the key in the door before regret gnawed at her conscience. She prayed Desmond’s problems didn’t become hers now that he was back in her life.
“Nigga, shut up and open the damn door,” he said. Kimberlyn had been talking shit all month, and he couldn’t wait to put something hard and heavy in her. Ap
parently, he had to remind her who he was.
Kimberlyn unlocked the door and together they walked inside. She found her babysitter sleeping in the living room with the TV on. After waking her up, Desmond paid her double for her services and sent her on her merry way.
“Where my son at?” he asked once they were alone.
“In his bedroom. Upstairs, first room on the left.”
Desmond quietly made his way to the second-level. As expected, he found Jordan tucked peacefully under the sheets. Desmond wanted to hug and kiss his son because he missed him that much but he decided to just admire him from the doorway. Jordan was growing fast, and with each day he was starting to look more and more like Dez.
When he turned around, he noticed Kim standing behind him. “If you ever keep my seed away from me again, I’mma fuck you up,” he said, pointing a finger in her face.
Kimberlyn slapped his hand away. “You need to tame your baby mama then.”
“Nah. I’mma tame yo’ mufuckin’ ass.” Desmond picked Kim up and placed her over his shoulder. Once he located her bedroom, he carried her over to the California king size mattress and tossed her on top of it.
Kimberlyn could try and front like she didn’t miss a nigga, but he knew that wasn’t the case.
“If we open this door,” she started.
“Shut up and open them legs,” he ordered. Desmond wasn’t trying to hear that shit. He was trying to make her cum three times in one session.
Kimberlyn slowly rolled up her pencil skirt, slid off her panties, and spread eagle. For several minutes, Dez simply stared at the pussy. He missed that mothafucka like a pregnant bitch missed her period.
“You bet not’ve been givin’ my shit away,” he said.
“I haven’t.”
Desmond lowered himself at her waist level. First, he inhaled the pussy, and next he kissed and finally tasted it. When he probed her opening with his finger he realized she was telling the truth. It definitely didn’t feel like she’d been fucking on a consistent basis…and if she was, he hoped the nigga had a life insurance policy.
Kimberlyn shivered in delight as his tongue flicked rapidly across her clit. He rotated between licking and sucking on her bud with ease. “I missed this mufucka,” he whispered.
It had been far too long and Desmond couldn’t waste time with frivolous foreplay, so he climbed in between her legs. The tip of his dick rested at the base of her opening, his pre-cum smearing across her inner thigh. She had his shit so hard that mothafucka was oozing clear liquid.
“You been fucking anybody else?” she asked curiously.
“Yeah.”
Kimberlyn gasped and slapped his arm. She started to push his ass off too, but he quickly said, “My hand.”
“You bet not be lying, nigga.”
Desmond grabbed her arm and pinned it high above her head. Using his free hand, he guided his dick inside her slippery folds. She was soaked before he even fully penetrated her. “Damn, K,” he groaned.
“Oh, God! Dez, I missed you!”
He gently pinched a nipple as he kissed and blew in her ear. “Then stop runnin’ from a nigga,” he said. “I will never hurt you, K. You gotta know that shit.”
Kimberlyn’s legs tightened around his waist and he went deeper.
“You feel that?” he asked, tapping her spot.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“How that feel?”
“It feels good, baby.”
“Unh-huh. Turn that mufuckin’ ass over. You been actin’ out, Kim, and I ain’t been feelin’ that shit.”
Kimberlyn anxiously did as she was told, making sure to arch her back just the way he liked it.
Desmond grabbed a fistful of her long hair before sliding in from the back. The pussy was so tight and wet that her shit felt like a suction cup. Every time he pulled out halfway, her walls snatched him back inside. “I love how the pussy be grippin’ my dick,” he said. “I wanna cum in this mufucka.”
“You shouldn’t—”
Desmond’s grip on her hair tightened. “Don’t tell me what the fuck I shouldn’t do. That’s yo’ problem, Kim. You think you run shit.” His strokes increased as he talked smack. “You don’t run a mufuckin’ thing though,” he told her.
Desmond’s balls slapped against her clit with every intense stroke. He was definitely trying to prove a point.
“Whose pussy is this?” Dez demanded to know.
“Oh, shit! It’s yours, baby! It’s always been!”
“Next time you post a mufuckin’ pic with a nigga make sure he knows that shit too.” Desmond spanked her ass so hard he left handprints.
Kimberlyn’s pussy muscles contracted as she felt herself on the verge of exploding. She’d always had a weakness for rough, makeup sex.
“I’m ‘bout to cum!” she hollered.
“I’m ‘bout to cum too…all up in this mufucka!”
Desmond softly bit the side of her neck as he released his seed deep within her wet tunnel. Instead of climbing off immediately, he allowed himself to go limp inside of her.
“Tomorrow I want you to start packin’ ya shit. I’m moving you back in with me,” he said.
“I can’t move with you, Desmond.”
He pulled out and dropped down beside her. “Fuck it then. I’m moving in with you.”
“You don’t think that’s a dumb idea?” Kimberlyn asked.
“No dumber than you movin’ across town with my son. But I’m not finna argue about it. I do wanna rebuild with you though. I want us to get back to how shit used to be…before the fire.”
“Let’s take things slow then.”
“I got’chu. We can do that,” he agreed. As much as Desmond wanted Kim and his son to live with him, it probably wasn’t the smartest decision after the assassination attempt. He could no longer risk their safety. To him, their lives were more important than his own. “I’ll never let anything happen to you or Jordan,” Desmond told her.
Kimberlyn rested her head on his chest and played with his curly strands of hair. “I know you won’t.” Truth be told, she needed him around just as much as he needed her.
Suddenly, Desmond’s cellphone rang. He almost didn’t want to answer it because he knew it was business.
“Wus good?”
“The trap in Vegas just got ran up in,” his lieutenant informed him. “These mufuckas kicked the door in—laid everybody out! Man, you wouldn’t ‘een believe these niggas killed the mufuckin’ kid and the dog! Niggas straight bitch made for that shit. You know we gotta ride, don’tchu?”
Desmond sat up in bed and quickly began getting dressed. “Oh, you already know. This shit gon’ get handled. We can’t afford to take an L like this. Niggas gotta know, we ain’t takin’ no mufuckin’ losses in these streets.”
“Is everything okay?” Kim asked once he hung up.
Desmond was so pissed off and distracted by the news that he left without answering. At that moment, he had business he needed to tend to. Desmond wanted the heads of the mothafuckas who’d robbed him.
***
Coming from Camp Creek, Apollo made it to Liberty’s house in thirty minutes tops. After parking his 1970 Mercedes 280, he hopped out and skipped up the cracked stone steps that led to the front door.
Liberty answered before he even had a chance to knock. Apollo had to stop himself from staring too hard at her in her cute little Victoria Secrets flannel PJs. A satin bonnet covered her hair; even in her loungewear she was still fine than a mothafucka.
As Apollo closed the door behind him he couldn’t help but steal a glance at her round derrière. It jiggled with every step she took. He wouldn’t be able to contain himself with her slanging ass all over the place. It’d been two years since he last slipped inside some pussy. Considering his fresh release, he hadn’t had time for recreational pleasures—only work.
No wonder she got these mothafuckas going crazy, Apollo thought. I bet the pussy good too.
“Wassup? The nigga ain�
��t show up again, did he?”
Liberty took a seat on her sectional. “No, she hasn’t.”
“She?!” Apollo laughed heartily. “Ma, I know you ain’t lettin’ some bitch terrorize you.”
“You don’t know my ex,” Liberty said.
Apollo pulled the twin pistols off his waist and placed them on a nearby table. He’d come prepared after thinking Liberty’s ex was really a threat. But now that he knew she was a female, he found the entire situation comical. After relieving himself of his weapons, he took a seat next to Liberty on the couch. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the guns he placed down.
“Tell you what. If the hoe shows up actin’ crazy again, I’ll give that bitch a noogie.”
Liberty broke out laughing. “Whatever. You say that now, but Trip ain’t the average woman.”
“I wouldn’t fight no female though. I ain’t with that pussy shit.”
“That’s good to know,” Liberty smiled. She then looked over at the guns resting on her table. “Can I ask you something? Why do you carry those around?”
“Can’t let a nigga catch me slippin’ out here. Shit, you know the sayin’. Some gon’ love you. And the others gon’ try to get rid of you.”
Liberty wanted to ask more questions in regards to it, but she didn’t want to get beside herself. After all, she may not have liked the answers.
“You said you were from Cali. How long you been in the A?”
“Couple weeks,” he said. “I actually just got out not too long ago. Did a two and a half year bid down in San Quentin.”
“For what?”
Apollo shrugged. “Lil’ bit of this. Lil’ bit of that,” he simply said. “But fuck all that. I ain’t makin’ no noise, for real. I’d rather know about you. How’d you get caught up with some crazy ass bitch?”
“She wasn’t crazy back when we first met,” Liberty explained. “Over time, she just started showing her true colors. She became jealous and possessive. Then she got abusive and that’s when I knew I had to leave her alone. I got a restraining order and everything, but since her shit’s still here she hasn’t stopped blowing me up.”