Greed the 3rd Deadly Sin KINDLE

by Noire

  Monique stood in the shadows as the young couple fucked. Truth groaned real loud when he got his nut, and a few seconds later he climbed out the bed and walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

  In a flash Monique stripped outta her club clothes. She crept over to the couch and slipped under the covers where Nooni lay breathing hard.

  “Wha—” the young girl almost jumped outta her skin when she realized Monique was on her.

  “Shhh!” Monique warned and pushed Nooni back down as she tried to sit up. “Just shut the fuck up and roll with this.”

  Ignoring the girl’s protests, she thrust her hand between Nooni’s sweaty legs and rubbed her wet, swollen pussy. Truth’s cum spilled out of her tunnel making everything down there nice and slick.

  “Monique, stop!” Nooni cried out, snapping her legs shut.

  Monique finger-fucked her deeply, plunging in and out of her pussy as she sucked Nooni’s stiff nipple.

  Heat pulsated through Nooni’s body and for a second she opened up. She was so damned confused and she needed to cum so bad. Fire was boiling between her legs and her pussy was now thumping. Monique was licking and sucking her titties exactly right, and on their own her hips started thrusting upward to meet Monique’s stroking fingers, which were now smearing hot juices all over her swollen clit.

  Nooni let her legs fall open wider and Monique slid two fingers deeper into her softness. Her breath caught in her throat as Monique flicked the tip of her erect nipple back and forth with her tongue. Nooni’s clit blinked and throbbed as her pussy muscles clamped down on Monique’s probing fingers. She fucked upward in a furious motion as Monique’s hand moved up and down beneath the covers. Hot cum shot out of her and Nooni arched her back and squealed with pleasure. Monique was just about to climb on top of her when Nooni caught herself.

  And Truth caught them too.

  “Yo what the fuck is y’all doing?” he exploded as he flipped on the light. He stood over them with a towel wrapped around his waist and the anguished sound of betrayal in his voice was like ice water over Nooni’s soul.

  “Nooni!” he yelled looking down at them in disbelief. “Monique!”

  “I’m sorry…” Nooni rolled over and started crying. She was ashamed beyond words and she buried her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry!”

  “Yo! What the fuck was y’all doing?”

  Monique sat up with a smirk on her face.

  “Don’t even try it, Truth,” she slurred. “You know I been wanting to fuck Nooni for a good minute now. You was down with all this shit from the gate so don’t act like you all innocent now.”

  Truth exploded, and beads of water rolled down his muscular chest and shoulders. “Fuck what I used to be down with, you drunk bitch! Nooni don’t roll like that. She don’t wanna get fucked by no girl!”

  Monique laughed, then stood up and stretched. Even with him pissed off and raging, the sight of her gorgeous brown body was enough to make Truth’s dick jump.

  “Nooni might not wanna get fucked by no girl,” Monique said as she weaved across the room butt-naked. She bent over to pick up her clothes and her pussy blossomed open like a beautiful new flower. “But she damn sure liked it when this girl made her cum.”

  $$$$$

  Salida had already laid out her plan and conducted all her research, and now she was ready to get things popping. She had hooked up with a motivated drug dealer who promised to sell her all the X, special k, roofies, xan, and other club drugs she could handle, but Salida knew the only way to generate some real money was by producing her own poison.

  Since she was new to the game, she had decided to start out with methamphetamine. White people’s crack. The gentrification of Harlem had become so widespread that white folks were now walking around like they owned the place. And except for the housing projects and the slums that surrounded them, they did.

  Salida didn’t have a problem with crackers coming in and buying up all the property that Blacks had dogged out, trashed the fuck up, and then abandoned. In fact, she respected the real-estate moguls for being all about business.

  But, she was an ambitious businesswoman too, and if meth is what the white junkies liked then that’s exactly what she planned to give them. All she wanted them to do was keep coming back for more.

  And it wasn’t just white people’s pockets that Salida wanted to tap either. Asian, Mexican, Puerto Rican, Arab…she didn’t give a damn where the money rolled in from as long as it rolled in heavy.

  Unlike the two dumb-asses who had taken over for G, Salida had nothing but ambition and big dreams on the brain. She didn’t want just a lil bit, she wanted it all, and she wanted it fast too. She would never be satisfied with nickels and dimes if quarters and dollars were out there for the taking. Some might say Salida had caught herself a bad case of the greedies, but she preferred to think of herself as being eternally hungry. The thirst was just in her. It ran through her blood. No matter how much fortune she was holding in her right hand, she was always, always looking around to see if she could get more, more, more for her left hand too.

  But she wasn’t about to go off half-cocked with her shit. She was too smart for that. She would be starting out very small. Baby-stepping her way through a process that had the potential to make millions of dollars in a very short period of time. Salida took pride in being thorough and in doing things in a strategic way, so she was gonna be moving very slowly.

  She had discovered an interest in computers since leaving the nuthouse, and she’d quickly become an information junkie who loved the Internet too. So when it came to club drugs, Salida had already read about enough blown up home-cooked meth labs to know she was dealing with something lethal. Sure, she wanted to make a truckload of money, but she didn’t plan on killing herself in the process. Her goal was to cook for herself and keep all her profits, and eventually to become a major distributor and cook for other dealers too.

  She’d already purchased a small amount of ephedrine from some Mexicans on the black market, and gathered some red phosphorous, a solution of lye, and a bunch of other chemical ingredients. She had made Ace get at ten of G’s most trusted cut room workers and tell them to report for duty. Under her detailed guidance and instructions, they had opened all the windows in the cut room and plugged in three industrial fans, and then for the first time in a long time, the G-Spot crew got busy producing, cutting, and packaging drugs again.

  “Yo, that crystal ain’t nothing to fuck with,” Pluto had bitched when he came upstairs to grumble about the foul smell that had customers complaining down at the bar. He had looked around at all the plastic jugs, glass jars, flasks, and various open containers of chemicals and shook his head. “See, this is why we need to stick to fish scale and powder, goddammit! All them fumes mixing together gone kill y’all stupid muh’fuckas up in here.”

  “Shut the hell up,” Salida said calmly as she slammed the door in his fat, ugly face. “I know what the hell I’m doing.”

  But as it turned out, as careful and as thorough as she had tried to be, Salida didn’t know exactly what she was doing and after everything had cooked down all she ended up with was a stank, oily mess on her hands.

  Staring down at all her wasted time and money, Salida laughed out loud. She was far from mad, and she wasn’t discouraged neither. In fact she was energized and encouraged.

  “No problem,” she muttered as she eyed the bad batch of meth and tried to figure out what the hell she had done wrong.

  “I’ma get this shit down pat,” she reassured herself as she prepared to ride out to Three Brother’s Funeral Home for a late-night meeting with her connect. “All a bitch needs is a little bit more money and a little bit more practice.”

  CHAPTER 12

  It was still warm for fall in California, and the Sanveneros were having a pool party. Renata appeared crisp and cool on the outside, but inside she was beside herself with worry.

  Three of Frank’s brothers and their wives were sitting in the
shade drinking martinis, and their nephews Sallie, Mick, and Joey, along with about ten of their young friends, were jumping in and out of the large, circular swimming pool.

  It was a relaxing day. The beer was flowing, the grill was hot, and everyone was laughing and splashing and having a good time.

  Everybody except Renata. Excusing herself from the group, she called Frank into the kitchen to help her get more ice, and she blurted out exactly what was on her mind.

  “I think something’s wrong, “she told her husband. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with Juicy for almost two days and I have a funny feeling in my stomach.” Renata sighed and ran her fingers through her lush, perfectly layered hair. “I mean, she’s not answering her home phone, and her cell phone must be turned off because my calls roll straight to voicemail. I just don’t understand, Frankie. Where in the world could she be?”

  Frank shrugged as he held the ice bucket under the freezer’s high-tech dispenser. “She’s probably just relaxing. Maybe she took a little vacation. Things have been rough for her. You can’t blame a young girl for wanting to get away for a little while.”

  Renata shook her head. She placed a fresh jar of olives on the tray, and reached into the pantry for a stack of bar napkins.

  “So you think she would take a vacation without telling me? Where? And with who? Other than us she doesn’t have one good friend in the whole damn state. Besides, Juicy wouldn’t go anywhere without telling somebody,” she said with certainty.

  Frank sighed. He had no idea where Juicy was. If it was up to him he would have forgotten all about her, but his wife’s protectiveness of the girl, and the promise Frank had made to his old east coast associate, hung like a weight around his neck.

  “I just get so afraid for her sometimes,” Renata confided, her voice dropping. “It’s like she just disappeared or something.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “What about the security guy who’s watch her condo? Has he seen her?”

  Frank sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I asked him this morning like you told me to. He said Juicy went out early yesterday.” Frank left out the part the old guy had said about seeing someone near Juicy’s condo later that morning because when he went to check it out nobody was there.

  Frank passed his wife the ice bucket and took the heavy tray from her hands. “We did everything we could do for Juicy. She’s an adult and she chose to leave our house and live on her own. She can do that you know.”

  “I know, I know,” Renata nodded. “I just have a bad feeling about this, that’s all.”

  She led the way to the poolside patio and set out the ice, olives, and napkins. Settled once more in her lounge chair, she lit a cigarette and inhaled on it deeply before releasing the smoke through her nose.

  “You know,” she turned to Frank and continued. “That girl is all alone in the world. We’re the only ones who would notice if she disappeared off the face of the Earth. I think we should take a ride over to her condo and see if everything is okay.”

  Frank sighed again and tossed back a Martini. He had no desire to get off his ass on a warm lazy Sunday, but as the head of his family it was his job to run around and put out other people’s fires.

  “All right.” He glanced around at his clan as they ate, drank, and splashed around in his swimming pool. “Richie’s got the grill and Sallie and Paulie can handle the kids in the pool. Let me get the keys to the condo, and I’ll take you over there.”

  $$$$$

  By the time they arrived at the condo it was getting dark outside. Gino’s car was sitting in the driveway but Juicy’s car was gone. A couple of envelopes stuck out of the curbside mailbox. Renata got the mail and put it in her purse, and Frank unlocked the door with the extra key he had held back after he sold Gino the condo.

  He opened the door and was shocked by what he saw. The place had been tossed. Furniture had been thrown everywhere, sofa cushions were sliced and gutted, closets had been ransacked, and every cabinet in the kitchen had been flung open and had its contents spilling out.

  “Oh my God!” Renata covered her mouth.

  “Stay here!” Frank ordered and pulled out his piece. He swept through the apartment looking for signs of static, although his instincts told him whoever had been here was already long gone.

  The master suite had been hit hard. Juicy’s king-sized bed had been torn apart, and the mattress was propped against the wall with all the stuffing hanging out. The dresser had been knocked over and was lying flat on its back with all the drawers pulled out. Lamps, paintings, perfumes and toiletries were scattered on the floor, and the bedroom closet looked like it had been attacked by somebody who was searching for something important.

  Frank was heading back to the living room when the cordless phone caught his eye. The message indicator was blinking. He pressed the button and listened as an automated message played.

  When the message ended Frank removed the phone’s handset from the base then hit the redial button to see what number had been dialed last. The phone rang three times before it was answered.

  “How the hell did you get home from the airport?” a voice on the other end demanded. The clear sounds of splashing water and a real lively backyard party could be heard in the background. “You were supposed to drive your own car home, Juicy!”

  Frank frowned. He recognized the voice on the other end of the line. He recognized it, and he didn’t like it at all.

  Without a word he placed the handset back on its base. He waited a few seconds and just as he expected the phone rang and shattered the silence in the condo.

  Frank looked at the caller ID. It showed a California area code but the number was blocked. He clicked the talk button, then pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

  “Juicy? Juicy! Did somebody give you a ride home?” the caller sounded shocked. “Juicy? Why didn’t you just drive your own fuckin’ car?”

  Once again Frank disconnected the call and put the phone back on the charger without saying a word. He didn’t want to alarm his wife, but the family had a problem. A very big problem. The man on the other end of the line didn’t know who Frank was, but Frank sure as hell knew him.

  Frank locked the door behind them as they left the ransacked condo. There was a frown on his face as he mentally pieced the puzzle together. “There was a message on Juicy’s phone,” he told Renata.

  “From who?”

  “The Los Angeles International Airport. It was a recording. It said a car registered to Juicy’s address had exceeded its allotted time in a 24-hour lot and that they were gonna tow it if it wasn’t moved right away.”

  “So she took a flight somewhere?” Renata said, surprised. “You mean she left L.A.? Why didn’t she tell me? And where the hell could she have gone?”

  “I don’t know,” Frank said. “But her car is at the airport.”

  “I have her key,” Renata said quickly. “She gave me a set after Gino died.”

  “I need to use your cell phone,” Frank said.

  “Where’s yours?” Renata said as she dug into her purse.

  “I think I left it by the pool. I need to make a call.”

  “Make it quick. My battery is almost dead.”

  Frank took his wife’s phone and punched in a number. His nephew answered on the first ring.

  “Aunt Renata, what’s up?”

  “Sallie, it’s Frank. We’re on our way to pick up Juicy’s car. Stay at the house until I get back. We need to talk.”

  “You’re going to the airport? Why? Wait! Don’t—”

  Click.

  “Phone died,” Frank said, handing it back to his wife. “Let’s go get this car before they tow the damn thing away.”

  $$$$$

  “Yo, fuck that niggah!” Zero barked as Izzy pushed the ride down the highway. Darkness had fallen and the cold-blooded killer had other moves on his mind. “Why we going back out there when we already looked all over the place? If the whip ain’t there, then that shit jus
t ain’t there!”

  “Chill, my niggah,” Izz said as he glanced in his rearview mirror checking for cops. Zero was riding dirty, and the last thing he wanted was for this idiot to get all hyped up and start wildin’.

  “Man, all this ridin’ back and forth is a waste of fuckin’ time, yo! I got other moves to make, nah’mean?”

  Izzy igged his partner-in-crime and turned the music up real loud. The boom of the bass vibrated the car’s frame and shook the windows. He hit the gas pedal hard and the car lurched and picked up speed as they changed lanes and approached the airport exit.

  “Yo, man. If we find it I’m taking that shit. Word. I’ma hotwire that bitch and push it all damn night.”

  Izz had no expectations of finding the green BMW convertible. Zero was on point, that shit just wasn’t there, but they had a job to do so fuck all that whining. Izz was a soldier. He took his orders and followed them. All that waaa-waaa shit wasn’t gonna throw him off his mission. Nah, they were gonna hit that parking lot hard, and they were gonna find that goddamn whip if it was the last damn thing they did.

  CHAPTER 13

  Chiney actually was in the cell right next to mine, and we stayed up half the night talking through a small hole in the sheetrock. The crack was up high, so we both had to stand up and talk with our mouths close to the wall, but just having somebody halfway familiar to talk to made being uncomfortable worthwhile.

  When I thought back hard enough I kinda remembered Chiney and her group of friends from high school, but in all that time I’d had no idea that she was Cooter’s little sister.

  I found out that Chiney and Jimmy were the same age, and that the two of them had actually messed around a little bit back in junior high school before Chiney got all butchy and started pushing up on females.