She taunts me, slowly pulling and pushing the barrel in and out of my mouth. Desperate to please her, I lick up and down the barrel, trying to work up some saliva. Then it dawns on me; she’s saying the exact words I said to her mother. I gulp, refusing to believe karma is in action. This is merely a coincidence.
“Suck it!” she yells, and then the nutty broad rams the barrel down my throat.
I choke, cough, and gag, putting a terrible strain on my injured eyeballs. She’s getting entirely too rough with the pistol, yanking it around so harshly, it clanks against my teeth. As if aroused by the sound of metal against teeth, she pulls the barrel out and bangs my mouth with the handle of the gun. My lips split and multiple teeth crunch and crack. Tooth fragments float in blood and mucous that pools inside my mouth. I try to spit the teeth out but I can’t. My lips are swollen and busted.
“So what’s the verdict? We gotta get out of here,” Brick says.
I’m somewhat in a daze, but I’m alert enough to know that I don’t want to die. I moan for them to please forgive me.
“I still have some bullets left.”
“All right. Use ’em. Put a bullet between his eyes, and it’s a wrap for ol’ boy. But I’m not disposing of his worthless body.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not hurting my back, carrying dead weight. He can hang right where he’s at.”
“But his body is evidence,” the chick says, sounding alarmed.
Body! I wish they’d stop referring to me as a body. Goddamn! I’m still alive and kicking and I plan to stay this way.
“There won’t be any evidence after the rats get through with his remains.”
“Rats! You told me there were only mice in here,” she says in a high-pitched voice.
“Fuck if I know what’s running around in here. Rats…mice…a little bit of everything. I’m ready to roll out. This place stinks. And that killer is adding to the stench.”
“I know, right? He’s reeking of piss and blood,” the cunt says. “I’ma need a long, hot shower to get his smell off of me.”
Are those two cold-blooded killers seriously gon’ let me hang on this chain until rats find me? Don’t leave me in here! I scream in my head.
At that precise moment, I desire a quick death more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Sex and money…the two things I’ve cherished most in life, don’t mean shit to me. If my lips weren’t swollen up and my teeth knocked out, I’d yell out the truth to those two crazies: “I’m still a menace to society. I might strike again if you don’t give me a bullet to the dome!”
More shots ring out in quick succession. Ah! Shit! Ow! My thigh, my hand, and my stomach are hit. I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate this trigger-happy bitch!
“Good job, Anya,” Brick says, praising the slut. “Aye, we out. Ol’ boy can hang in here with the sewage and the vermin.”
I hear their footsteps as they hurry away. The door creaks open and then closes.
Leaking blood, I pass out.
I wake up but my eyes can’t see anything. There’s only darkness and silence. I don’t know if I’m dead or alive. Waves of pain inform me that I’m still alive. Head to toe, every part of my body is hurting; especially my stomach. That broad shot me in the gut. I’m still hooked up by a chain. But I refuse to go out like this. Somebody had to hear all that gunfire. A rescue team is gonna be here any minute to take me to the hospital.
I feel something crawling on my sneaker. A rat? Aw, shit. Come on; don’t do this to me! Nah, it ain’t no rat. It’s something small. I wiggle my foot, tryna get it off of me. That sucker runs inside my sneaker…moving all crazy, squeezing down into the sole of my sneaker. I wish it was like an insect or something, but I can tell that there’s a little-ass mouse, fucking around inside my sneaker.
I shake my foot, hoping to knock my sneaker off, but my laces are tied tight and my sneaker’s not budging.
Oh, my God, I feel two more mice, burrowing into each side of my sneaker. Now there’s a swarm of them nasty suckers, squirming around, fighting to get in.
Some are crawling up my pant legs now. God, help me. I don’t deserve this. They’re slithering into the holes on the knees of my pants. Hordes of mice are crawling all over me. I can’t get ’em off. They’re nibbling and biting on my wounds. They’re feasting on my foot, my kneecaps, and my stomach.
Aye, I’ve had enough of this crap. For real, I’m not playing. Do you hear me, God! Take me! I’ve had it. I’m ready to die!
God isn’t listening to me. I must be in hell. Something large and menacing is moving at a fast and determined pace. Sharp claws dig into my skin as this thing…this… I know what it is, but I don’t wanna say it. This fat fucker is clinging to my shirt as it chews on the open wound on my shoulder—razor-sharp teeth taking bites.
Oh, fuck. It’s moving to my face. Get the fuck off me. Shit, shit, shit. A big-ass rat is fucking with my face, gnawing on my bloody eyeball.
As death finally claims me, I feel great relief. My life flashes before me. Childhood days. My first kiss. Cruelty to animals. Stealing money from my mom’s purse. Gang-banging. Carjacking. Rape and murder. Prison life. When I finally get to my last moment in life, I’m ready to meet my Maker, but there’s a click and a freeze-frame.
Nooo! I’m not going forward. I’m trapped in the warehouse. Stuck with the horrible sensations of rodents nibbling on me. I cry out in outrage and pain, my voice seeming to echo throughout eternity. I plead and wail as I wait for a benevolent God to please have mercy on me.
CHAPTER 45
In the cover of night, Brick lurked in the shadows, watching and waiting. He knew that a mama’s boy like Cash Money couldn’t go very long without seeing his mother. Brick smiled when he saw the scrawny dude slip out the back door.
With his cap pulled down, Cash Money trotted down the dark alleyway.
Brick was parked at the foot of the alley. When Cash Money drew close, Brick stepped outside his nondescript, dark car.
“What’s good, Cash Money? What it do, man?” Brick smiled.
Cash Money stopped in his tracks. He grimaced and jerked his shoulders in agitation. “Fuck! Not you again! Come on, man. I told you everything I know.”
“Let’s take a ride. I got some more questions to ask you.”
Cash Money made a quick motion, preparing to make a run for it. Brick zapped him, and then threw his spastic, lanky body into the back seat of the car.
“Fuck you do that for?” Cash Money groused after he stopped quivering.
“We can do this the easy way or I can go hard. It’s up to you.”
“I got enough problems. Why you keep fucking with me? You took my phone. What more do you want from me?”
“There wasn’t shit in that phone that was helpful, except your mother’s number. Yo, I got my tools on me this time. They in the trunk. A brand new collection of interesting weapons…all designed to produce pain. And a slow death.”
Cash Money groaned.
“I wonder how long your lil’ frail ass will linger after I start working on you?” Brick shook his head grimly. “Probably not long. It don’t seem like you’re built to last, but I’ll figure out a way to prolong your life and make you suffer.”
“I told you everything. What else do you wanna know?”
“I been all through your cell; and I’m coming up with blanks. No leads to Smash Hitz.”
“Ain’t no numbers for him in my phone because I’m tryna steer clear of that psycho.”
“Where’d she meet Spydah?”
“The hotel where he was staying when he did a show in Philly.”
“I can’t picture Misty hanging out at a hotel tryna rub shoulders with a celebrity.”
“I was with her when she met Spydah. She was chasing that paper. One of the dudes that worked for her put her on with Spydah.”
“What dude?”
“Man, I don’t remember. Misty had a revolving door of niggas that worked for her and some of ’em liv
ed with her at the apartment. Dudes named Sailor, Izell, Lennox, and Horatio. But they’re all from outta town. I don’t know how to get in touch any of ’em.”
Brick scowled at that information. “Okay, back to Spydah. Is he on the down low? Was he looking for a dude to trick with?”
“Nah, he didn’t even know the extent of what Misty was into. That night she met him, he wanted ten groupies to come through and entertain him and his crew.”
“Misty don’t fuck with females, so how did she find ten groupies?”
“She called a stripper that used to work for her. The chick’s name is Felice. Felice called on some of her stripper friends and they came to the hotel, expecting to get paid a certain amount.”
“Okay. Any reason why I should consider the stripper chick as a suspect?”
Cash Money scratched his head. “Now that I think about it…yeah. Felice ended up having beef with Misty.”
“What happened?”
“Felice brought the other strippers. Misty told her that she would pay Felice and all the girls—”
“Hold up! Why would Misty offer to pay for Spydah’s strippers?”
“Spydah didn’t request strippers. He wanted free pussy from groupies. And since Misty wanted to get close to Spydah, she offered to pay the chicks.”
“That don’t even sound like Misty…getting chicks together in order to rub elbows with a celebrity.”
“Misty wasn’t interested in Spydah. She only used him to get to the big man…Smash Hitz.”
Brick nodded. Now that sounded more like Misty. She was always scheming and looking at the big picture. “Aye, so what happened with the strippers?”
“It was all good. Everybody had a good time. Then, the next morning, Felice was blowing up Misty’s phone, but Misty wouldn’t take her calls.”
Felice? The name wasn’t familiar. Brick frowned, trying to think back to his days with Misty. She had one female working for her, but the name Felice didn’t ring any bells.
“Felice dances under the name Juicy. Her pussy is fat, man. Real swolled up, like a piece of ripe fruit.” Cash Money closed his eyes in fond reminiscence.
Juicy! Yeah, I remember that name. Now shit was finally starting to add up. Misty did have a hooker named Juicy selling pussy for her once upon a time. Misty posted the chick’s fat pussy up on her website, and customers were feening to get between those big, juicy lips. Brick frowned as he recalled the incriminating pictures of himself that he’d allowed Misty to post online.
“Misty promised the stripper chick a lot more dough than she actually gave her. And she told her she could get her tickets to Spydah’s show. She promised a whole bunch of shit that she didn’t deliver. Misty thought it was funny that she burned Felice.”
“Misty had a malicious streak, there ain’t no doubt about that. And could be shady from time to time, but it sounds like she had a personal problem with that stripper. Any idea what that was about?”
“Payback. Felice fucked her ex-man, Dane…back in the day.”
Hearing Dane’s name put a sour taste in Brick’s mouth. “Yeah, that nigga dead, but he deserved a fate worse than death,” Brick said bitterly.
As though spooked by Brick’s irreverent words, Cash Money looked around fearfully. “Yo, let that man rest in peace. Why you talking bad about the dead?”
“Fuck Dane,” Brick said with his face contorted. Not only did Dane steal Misty from Brick, he stole Misty’s SUV, her money, and he destroyed her business.
Brick shook his head, clearing his mind of Dane. “Getting back to the stripper, Juicy. I need to holler at that broad. Where’s she dancing at now?”
“Juicy came up! She’s not stripping anymore.”
“Whatchu mean?”
“She works for Smash Hitz. That right there lets you know Juicy is the last bitch I’m tryna bump into.”
Brick scowled excessively. “What kind of work is she doing for Smash Hitz?”
“Provides him with strippers.”
“I’m confused. Why does he want strippers? Isn’t he on the DL?”
“He goes both ways.”
Brick nodded in understanding. “How did Juicy get in cahoots with Smash Hitz?”
“Through Spydah’s crew. They told him about her unusual pussy. Misty never knew Juicy had a little side business going on with Smash. He put Misty on with all his friends and connections on a national level. But he only used Juicy’s services when he was in the Philly area.”
“How do you know about his business with Juicy?” Brick asked skeptically.
“She came to the crib he was renting when he was in Philly. I was there with him.”
“Smash Hitz sucked your dick?”
Cash Money nodded. “He’s a freak, man. He’s into all kinds of perverted sex acts. He was supposed to be getting into a threesome with me and one of Juicy’s chicks; that’s why Juicy brought the stripper to the crib.”
“Why’d he change his mind?”
“I don’t know. He let them come upstairs. He met with them in this outer room that was attached to the bedroom. The bedroom door was closed but I could hear the conversation. He told Juicy that he didn’t need her services. He said he’d catch her the next time that he was in town. Juicy kept tryna convince him to at least try out the new girl. Smash told her he wasn’t interested. I don’t think that Juicy knew Smash prefers men because she told the girl to take off her clothes and give Smash a sample.”
“A sample?”
“I don’t know what sampling involved, but while his attention was diverted from me, I kind of borrowed his chain.” Cash Money gave a soft groan. “That’s how all this shit got started—that damn Juicy!”
“Nigga, shut up. Ain’t nobody tell you to steal that man’s chain.”
“I bet Juicy has Smash’s chain. All this time, I thought Smash had one of his people get the chain out of Misty’s car. But now I think it was Juicy.”
“Okay, I’m starting to feel this. But I don’t want to focus on Juicy only. Think hard, man…what other chicks did Misty have beef with?”
“Besides Juicy…uh…only Baad B and the tranny.”
Brick’s thoughts drifted. He looked at Cash Money. “How would Juicy know Misty was going to see Smash in the wee hours of the morning?”
“I’m only guessing. She persuaded Smash to try out the stripper chick. I know that for a fact because when he came back in the bedroom, he told me that he’d get back with me again some other time. After I left Smash’s room, the stripper went in.”
“What was her name?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t introduce us.”
“What did she look like?”
“I can’t remember.”
“No? Well, I got tools in the trunk that might help to jog your memory,” Brick said threateningly.
“She was a light-skinned chick,” Cash Money blurted. “Oh, wait a minute. I remember her name because Smash laughed a little when Juicy introduced them.”
“What’s her name?”
“Redbone.”
“Redbone?”
“Yeah. Smash only agreed to get with her because he liked her name so much.”
“Where can I find this Redbone chick?”
“I don’t know. You gotta get in touch with Juicy.”
“How?”
“It all goes back to Smash Hitz.”
“Before I go after Juicy, did any of Misty’s male workers know Smash on a personal level?”
“Yeah.”
“Who?”
“Too many to name. But one in particular was Horatio. He went to Miami with Misty, pretending to be her bodyguard. But after they got there, Smash preferred Horatio over Misty. That’s when she first found out Smash was into dudes. And she milked his obsession, giving him a smorgasbord of young, muscular dudes.”
“And what happened to Horatio?”
Cash Money shrugged. “I’m not sure. I remember that Misty and Horatio had a big argument over Smash Hitz. Horatio thou
ght he deserved some extra bread for helping Misty find out the man was on the low. Misty wouldn’t give it to him. I think he quit, but then again, Misty may have fired him. I don’t remember, man. Like I said, Misty had beef with damn near everybody that worked for her.
“But Horatio wasn’t no killer. That dude was big as a line-backer, but he was sweet. None of Misty’s workers were killers. If you find Juicy…you’ll get to the truth. Juicy hated Misty and I know that for a fact.”
“How do you know that?”
“Dane told me. He said that Juicy wanted everything that Misty had.”
CHAPTER 46
The expression “poor little rich girl” finally made sense. Anya left the lawyer’s office several million dollars richer. The money was supposed to make her life easier. But this blood money, the result of a civil suit against the security company that had been contracted to keep her mother’s workplace safe, didn’t make her happy.
Tears sprang to Anya’s eyes as she imagined Kaymar and the other merciless savage accosting her mother inside the parking garage and forcing her off the property. The terror and hopelessness her mother must have felt brought tears to Anya’s eyes.
There’d been cameras around the grounds of the health care facility where her mother worked, but the security company neglected their duties. They weren’t looking at the monitors nor were any of the team members outside, patrolling the parking lot during shift change, and acting as a visual deterrent. Instead the security team was inside the facility, drinking coffee, laughing, kicking it with each other while her mom was being kidnapped.
Had they bothered to glance at the monitors, they would have been able to stop the assailants. Because of their negligence, her mother was no longer alive.
Anya’s aunt and other extended family in Indiana talked bad about her father; called him a drug addict, a bum, a deadbeat dad. Said he blew a million dollars on fast living and drugs.
Brick (Double Dippin') Page 22
