Who Shot Ya Box Set

by Renta

  As she made her way to the driver’s side something caught her eye. A sky-blue CTS sat on the opposite side of the street, three car lengths away. The car itself wasn’t what intrigued her. It was the silhouette of the driver, that captured her attention. He sat real low in his seat trying to be inconspicuous, but the soft glow from whatever he was smoking gave him away. As she slid behind the wheel, she took one last glance at the vehicle before pulling off.

  ‘Damn—me, buggin’,’ she thought as she pulled outta the subdivision.

  She glanced back at the man of the hour and asked if she could put on some music, he nodded and continued his phone conversation.

  ***

  Ice-Berg allowed a solitary tear to fall from his right eye, as he stood over his baby sister with a silencer-equipped pistol planted directly between her eyes. She cried sincerely, as she stared into the eyes of her bloodline. What she saw was the essence of disdain, hurt, and anguish.

  “I’m sorry, Berg—I con—co—confused,” she sniffled. “I was so—”

  “Shhh,” Ice-Berg, shushed her. “It’s Gucci, sis. I know what love and loyalty will do to a mu’fucka.”

  Tisha’s face relaxed into a sense of hope. “Yeah, I know right. I mean this some crazy shit. I feel so bad, kuz you always told me, that loyalty was to death. I violated the motto. Betrayal is suicide—I know, I fucked up, Berg. I’ll never cross you again. I mean—you just said, you understand how love and loyalty can fuck a person up. I mean—how would mama have reacted if you killed me? Boy, untie me from this chair and let’s wait on, Butta, to come back home. He’s not family anyway. You love me, right?”

  Tears fell from both their eyes as he replied. “Yeah, I understand, that even family will betray you for their own reasons.” He then squeezed the trigger at point blank range. Tisha’s body crumbled over. “Yeah, I understood, sis—”

  ***

  Teasley Lane the Jamaican woman stopped at a red light and noticed the same sky-blue CTS from earlier creeping up behind them.

  “Ahhh, aayyyee, mon—member the Blue CTS me told chu of bock at tee house?” she questioned.

  “Yeah, what ‘bout it?” he asked curiously.

  “Well, mon, tere it is again.”

  The man turned his head in the direction she pointed, and as if life took on a slow-motion scene Nutz pulled up just enough, that they were almost eye to eye. He was grinning like the devil.

  “Go,” he screamed. “Drive this mu’fucka, now!”

  But to his utter confusion, the car didn’t move. He turned back to the woman, to find out why the fuck she wasn’t following orders only to find a .44 mag pointed at his face. He tried to react, but he was a little too late. A slug penetrated his face and he died with his eyes open.

  “Berg say to tell chu tanks fa being a good friend.” She spit on his limp body and climbed out the car.

  In broad daylight, she grabbed the gas can Nutz held out of the window to her and drenched the inside of the magnum, then set it aflame. Without remorse, she slid into the passenger side of the CTS, smiling at her handy work.

  Nutz pulled into traffic slowly once the light changed for the 3rd time. A grey Ford Explorer was parked two blocks away awaiting their arrival. The CTS would suffer the same fate as the man and the black mag they’d left blazing.

  ***

  Her sweat dripped onto his face as he raised her leg high in the air. She was positioned on her side smiling back at him mischievously.

  “Do it, mutherfucker,” she taunted.

  Feeling his manhood being tested, he used his dick to massage the length of her pussy lips.

  Snow enjoyed his foreplay so much, she began rubbing her clit. “Uummm,” she purred as he slid into her essence.

  He stroked her long and deep as their tongues danced. All in a moments time and without her consent or preparation, he slid outta her kitty and positioned the head at her backdoor. Slowly he worked the head into her forbidden treasure. Hastily, she tried to get her leg down, but his grip was firm, and he inched his muscle deeper into her.

  “Shiiit—it—it hurts you, muther—fucker! T—take—take it out,” she protested.

  As he submerged his thick seven inches in her ass, he whispered, “Just relax, love—I promise you’ll enjoy it soon enuff.” All the while his stroke became more intense.

  “Oohhh shit. Babyyy—shisss,” she cried.

  She began playing with her clit as fast as she could, trying to turn the pain into pleasure. He noticed this and began pumping faster. Snow’s pleasure was suddenly over the edge, she began working her hips as her ass got wet.

  “Tell me, I’m your dirty, white whore. Tell me, those black bitches can’t fuck you like I do. Tell me, mutherfucker—” she screamed taking his dick in her ass like a porn star.

  “Oh shit, take this black dick bitch,” he growled as he began to feel the sensations that came with an explosive nut.

  His back stiffened, as he tried to control the eruption, yet just as he began to tame the beast raging through him.

  Snow began experiencing a strange development and lost it. “Oh—my—fuckin’—Jesus,” she screamed.

  The tightened of her ass cheeks made the man release into her essence.

  Brains relaxed in the lobby of the Hilton. He listened intently as Snow gave herself to a man she’d been seducing for the past three weeks. This escapade would be the key to their success. The man in question was none other than, Ashford Jordan’s Representative and Legal Advisor.

  Brains couldn’t contain the feelings surging through him. It was like Snow’s success gave him a hard-on, and something to be proud of, all at once. He smiled standing to leave. “Good girl—fuckin’ good girl—”

  ***

  Four hours later

  Antone’s Barbershop was empty except for three occupants. They engaged in a conversation, that could and would get each of them a conspiracy case if this particular dialogue ever left this room.

  “Dig, Tone, I’ve known you since you were a pup, right? I’ve taken you in and been as close to a father figure than you’ve ever had, right?”

  Tone nodded in silent agreement leaning back in his chair. “Now, look, Bobby Ray.” He addressed Brains by his government. “Don’t walk into my establishment insulting me, old man. You know you can miss me wit’ the spill and tell ole Tone what you need, and it’s done. I owe you my life and even after that, I’ll be in debt to you for introducing me to the feel of alligator shoes. So, spit it out. What can I do for you, old head?”

  Brains smiled, “Look, I’m embarking on a new venture, I’m playin’ on. I’m not tryin’ to run a cap. I got a sucka in my web. I’m not tryin’ to let ‘em loose, till I suck ‘em clear of his hard-earned grip. This one kinda risky, yet the takeoff is a masterpiece.” Snow laughed at his excitement.

  Brains was so amped his hand gestures were borderline comical. Shooting up from his seat, he began pacing the floor and continued explaining his plans. “It’s going to take every piece on the board to fleece this mark and get to the other side of the board to capture the king.” Suddenly he spun and locked eyes with, Tone. “Now, in order to capture this king, we must be overly strategic and precise with our advance.”

  Tone nodded his head in understanding as Brains started pacing again. There was a studious look on his face, as he slammed a closed fist into the palm of his hand.

  “The king’s financial status was the strength behind his empire, but understand even though, the mighty dollar is the element that keeps the world spinning. It all boiled down to a mu’fucka, that’s controlling it and the heart that he possesses to keep it.” He paused midstride and trained his eyes on Snow. “This king we’re seeking to hoodwink his heart is too meek.” Brains slowly stalked over her like a hungry panther, with an eye contact only they could understand. Brains turned his eyes to Tone his empire was crafted off pure genius. Yet, he lacked the spine to hold onto the power he had incurred. Everything was set, except one final, but vital detail.�
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  Tone raised his brow in inquisition. Brains facial expression was serious.

  He waved a manicured hand around the conservatively decorated room. “We need to turn this barbershop into imports and exports distribution.” Tone shrugged his shoulders. “A man of your prestige shouldn’t have a problem with that small detail.”

  Brains glanced at his Swiss Watch then allowed his gaze to settle on, Snow. She took this as her cue to deliver the final blow to seal the con.

  “The problem doesn’t lie within the ability to create the illusion,” she said.

  Tone looked baffled. “So, where does the problem lie?” Snow smiled seductively, as she glanced at her Rolex. “The problem lies in time. We have precisely two hours and twenty-nine minutes to cover ground and convert this place into a relatively respectable place of business. But first, you need to terminate all your hair appointments and inform your employees, that they have the day off with pay. We have a team on standby. Plus, it would be a complete catastrophe if we’re in the middle of the biggest pay off of our lives and a line of nappy headed mutherfuckers storms in for their usual taper fade.”

  The room exploded with laughter. Brains pulled out his iPhone and held the #1 down for his associates he had on speed dial. Whoever answered the other end listened, as Brains spoke briefly. He merely said, “Bring in the equipment.”

  Snow couldn’t prevent the sensations shooting through her body. Money simply made her pussy wet. “Showtime,” she whispered.

  ***

  Detective Hunter scribbled in his notepad, as the ghettofied woman recalculated her version of the brutal murder committed six hours ago. “So, you say, two men and a woman pulled up in a blue vehicle. The woman jumped out of the passenger side and opened fire on the deceased?”

  The woman rolled her eyes and smacked her lips. “Look, Mr. if you’re really trying to catch who did this, you need to get the story correct. Ain’t nobody said the woman opened fire. I said the bitch’s hair was fire. She had these dreads that was oh so cute and—”

  Detective Hunter put his hand up. “Ma’am—I’m not interested in the woman’s head. We’re trying to solve a murder here.” He turned to the crowd. “Did anybody see what happened here today?”

  A girl with purple and black hair stood defiantly and replied. “Ain’t no snitches out here cracker.”

  Fed up, Detective Hunter turned and walked away. He snickered at the obscenities that landed on his back. Forensics combed the area, as numerous law enforcement analyzed, and congregated around the crime scene. Due to the fact, the victim had ties with the Bureau the boys up high was definitely on deck.

  “Hey, Hunter, wait up.” A feminine voice deviated him from his destination.

  She stood at least five feet tall and had shoulder length hair, that was always pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her skin wasn’t flawless, but it wasn’t overly blemished either. She resembled a lady basketball player with a homely face.

  “How are you, Detective Winslet?” Hunter stopped allowing her to catch up.

  “I could be better if dead bodies weren’t popping up all over the city.”

  Hunter raised his brow. “Bodies as in more than one?”

  Winslet looked at him through questioning eyes. “What, you mean to tell me, you weren’t notified about the murder of twenty-year-old, Tisha Swanson?”

  Detective Hunter stood emotionlessly. Even though his mental was racing full speed. ‘Ice-Berg’s younger sister?’ he thought.

  Being an investigator on the Swanson case had caused him many sleepless nights and massive heat on the home front. He vividly, remembered the hurt and animosity, that burned in Ice-Berg’s eyes when he was told his sister and best friend was willing to testify against him.

  “Hunter—Hunter, are you alright?” Winslet brought him out of his reverie.

  “Huh? Yeah—yeah—I was just wondering how, Mr. Swanson, is going to react to the news of his baby sister and best friend losing their lives on the same day?”

  Winslet knew how hard Hunter worked to bury David ‘Ice-Berg’ Swanson under the confines of a federal max prison. Only to watch with astonishment the hard work and late nights shattered in vain.

  “Well—she began—I pray, the Lord has mercy on me for what I am about to say, but it’s the truth. I hope that the deaths of his family bring him to his knees and shows him the grief he’s caused all of us and many others.” She glanced over at the taped off area surrounding the charred Dodge Magnum. There was no need for the ambulance, the coroner was wide-eyed, as they closed the doors on the burnt corpse.

  Hunter smiled. The chase was back on, but this time, Berg was going down and staying down. “Naw, Detective, I don’t think this shit-head mutherfucker will be grieving too much over these two. In fact, I think, he’s more informed about the deceased than we are.”

  Detective Winslet stared at him perplexed. “What would make you say that, Hunter?”

  Hunter smiled. “Oh—it’s just a hunch. Let’s go over to Catrina’s Deli over on Hickory and talk about it over a cup of her Trinidadian Joe.”

  ***

  The sleek, black, stretch limo pulled in front of ‘World Commodities.’ Ashford Jordan and his legal advisor, Justin Crow sat behind the tinted windows enjoying the sounds of soft classical music. Jordan sipped from a chilled glass the amber color Brandy seemed to hypnotize him, as he stared at its substance like he could actually see the actual ingredients. He pretended to be listening to the counselor, as he bitched about the corruption of wall street, but Ashford had his mind on the erotic escapade Snow had taken him on.

  He stirred the two ice cubes that chilled his cognac. His thoughts carried him away and the deeper he traveled, the more blood rushed into his male organ. A devilish smile crept across his face as he reflected on how Mrs. Waynebrook. Who Snow properly introduced herself as after they copulated did things to him he’d seldom fantasized about.

  Justin Crow felt disrespected. “Mr. Jordan—Mr. Jordan? Do you hear me? These assholes are trying to ruin the stock market. Bryant and Westbrook Internationals are buying up this new clinical drug and—” he stopped midsentence and stared in bewilderment. “What’s so, funny? What’s the cheesy smile for, Mr. Jordan?”

  Distracted from his trip down memory lane Ashford decided to give his prick of an attorney his attention. “Since, you must know, Justin. I was just thinking about this wonderful woman we are about to invest our hard-earned money into. She’s beautiful.”

  Justin couldn’t help but smile. “Not to mention, very—very creative.” He responded allowing his own thoughts of Snow to overpower his mental. He vividly recalled how tight she felt as he fucked her in the ass.

  “Creative?” Ashford asked realizing his slip-up.

  Justin refocused his eyes on his client, only to find him staring quizzically. “Business. She’s very creative and business savvy!”

  Chapter Five

  ‘Bidness Savvy’

  “Sell now the share is losing interest!” Snow screamed at the flat screen showing apparent decreases in sales.

  Ashford Jordan watched in amazement as she shouted orders at thirty investors set up in the vast opening. He stared up at the screen mounted on the far wall to his right. The digital showed the share in platinum was declining considerably. A glance at the action going on in the room was intense as the consumer market unfolded before him. As he studied his surroundings a slight smile crept across his lips.

  Standing next to him was his lawyer and next to Justin stood Tabius Malone, Ms. Waynebrook’s lawyer. In order to be heard over the ruckus, he leaned over and verbalized his excitement.

  “This may be one of the best investments we’ve ever made.”

  Justin simply nodded his agreement, as he fantasized about the many ways, he planned to lavish himself with his newfound wealth, he and Snow planned on embezzling from his employer. After the check was signed the plan was to have the currency transferred to an offshore account, then simultaneously,
Ashford would meet his demise by way of a terrible accident. Even better there would be no evidence implicating him to the crime.

  He and Snow would be free to enjoy their quest on the beautiful island of the West Indies. The group of islands divided between the British and U.S. serving as a landmark constituting their territory, the Virgin Islands to be exact. A perfect place for one or two to retire.

  “Justin!” The sound of his boss’s voice raided his reverie.

  “Huh? Oh, my apologies, Mr. Ashford. I was simply thinking about what the USA Today said about the market.”

  Ashford Jordan’s eyes studied him intently. “Oh really, and what might that be? It had to be something intriguing, that you couldn’t hear your name being called—three times to be exact.”

  Justin stared back at him uneasy and replied. “It basically spoke on how shifty the market could be at times but due to this new tracking device system called Sigfig—”

  Jordan cut him off abruptly. “What does Sigfig have to do with your—”

  “If you’ll let me finish, I’ll explain,” Justin countered.

  Ashford smiled a wry smile and motioned for him to continue.

  “As I was saying Sigfig keeps track of your investments. The investment service keeps track of your average per day up to a sixth-month average. Their largest holdings, most bought and most sold. More than a million investors nationwide, with total assets of forty-five billion, managed their investment portfolios online with Sigfig.”

  Ashford didn’t understand why this bit of information should mean anything to him, or his lawyer being as though, they were about to invest not one, not two, but three million dollars of his hard-earned money into the world commodities. Little did he know, Justin was beginning to get cold feet about the treachery, lurking in the darkness. Yes, Snow was a beautiful, smart woman, with an amazing sex drive. But, was she worth life in prison? A sickening feeling overcame him, as he visualized himself going to prison for capital murder. It would ruin him.