Stealing Candy

by Allison Hobbs

  “This auction jawn is off the chain. Better than watching pit bulls fight,” he told his overweight sidekick.

  “Thirty,” the poppy-eyed man said in a huffy tone.

  “Thirty-five? Who wants to pay thirty-five for the grip-tight, do it right?” Bullet said, laughing, obviously enjoying the limelight.

  The baller fell silent.

  “Aiight, then. Sold for thirty dollars.”

  The poppy-eyed man hitched up his pants and clutched Skittles by the arm, claiming her. He had to guide her gingerly…patiently… like he was escorting an old woman.

  Upset over her sore and red-striped backside, Bubbles wasn’t smiling.

  “Put your game face on,” Bullet quietly hissed at her.

  He turned on a megawatt smile for the crowd of men. “Aiight, now this next ho’s name is Bubblicious. Now she might present a challenge. She thicker than a Snicker, and only limber and creative muthafuckers need to bid on this ho. See, she just got that ass whooped, so she can’t lay flat on her back. She got some big titties, though. Work ’em any way you see fit.”

  Bullet glared at Bubbles. “Pull yo’ top up. Show these bidders how fat your titties is.”

  Bubbles squirmed uncomfortably and then pulled up her top. The crowd of men cheered and uttered lewd comments.

  Bubbles revealed her double D’s. Bullet squeezed her left breast. “Nice and soft.”

  “Big set of melons,” someone commented.

  “You can work your dick all up inside the crevice.” Bullet demonstrated by sliding his hand up and down her cleavage.

  Gianna couldn’t see Bubbles’ face, but she could feel the girl’s shame—her palpable embarrassment.

  “Drop it low, Bubblicious,” Bullet demanded.

  Despite a sore and welted ass, Bubbles went into action—working her thick body, gyrating the way she had planned to do for the Soulja Boy video she’d thought she was going to audition for when she met Bullet.

  “Can I get fiddy dollars for a titty-fuck with this big jumbo bitch?”

  “Yo!” the baller responded, starting the bidding. “She can drop it low on this.” He gripped his crotch.

  “If you wanna get with Bubblicious, you need to dig deep. Can I get fiddy-fi?” Bullet pulled Bubbles’ tight-fitting skirt up, exposing her shaven vagina. “She keeps her grass cut.” Bullet fell out laughing. “Bubblicious is ready! She rocks out with her cock out!”

  “Fifty-five dollars!” yelled someone from the rear. A man wearing a blue cap moved forward when the bidding didn’t progress further.

  “Sold for fiddy-fi dollars to the man in the blue cap.” He patted Bubbles’ tender ass. “Aiight, Bubblicious. Show that high-bidder some love.”

  The man smiled proudly. Lips poked out, Bubbles trudged off with the man wearing the blue cap.

  CHAPTER 42

  Bullet rubbed his hands together. “Now I’m ’bout to present y’all with the cream of the crop, so all of y’all need to getcha money up. This ho is so sweet and innocent, I don’t even allow no niggas to smash it…” Bullet laughed. “I don’t allow no white crackas that opportunity, either.”

  Boisterous laughter erupted from the crowd of men. Flashy sighed in disgust.

  “She gives some damn good head. That’s her specialty.” Bullet shook his head. “Yo, her oral game is on point. She suck so long and so good, I was like…damn, Lollipop! That’s how she got her name.”

  Bullet’s antics got more guffaws from the crowd.

  Gianna licked her lips as she was expected to do, though her mind was on being Bullet’s wife. Maybe he’d get out of the game if she got pregnant. He wouldn’t possibly allow her to hustle if she had his baby. She liked her plan. Get pregnant by Bullet. Then he’d have no choice but to take her out of the life.

  “I’m starting it off at seventy-five dollars,” Bullet said proudly. Flashy groaned. “You starting too high.”

  Bullet ignored Flashy. “I ain’t even gon’ hold you. Lollipop got some juicy, sweet-sucking lips.”

  “A hunnit!” the baller called.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. Ain’t none of y’all evah had your dick sucked the way Lollipop can. Who else wants to experience the feeling of her plump, delicious lips? I’m asking for one-twenty. Can I get it?”

  “A buck-fifty!” the baller said in a cocky voice.

  “Oh, aiight. Mr. Playa over there is tryin’ to get Lollipop on lock. Y’all gon’ sit back and let him get his pole slicked and licked? Do I hear one-sixty?”

  The baller folded his arms, indicating he was through bidding.

  No one else placed a bid.

  “Aiight, then. Sold for one-fiddy. Get your condom from Flashy over there.”

  As Flashy was handing the baller a condom, the poppy-eyed man came out of the room he’d been in with Skittles.

  “Go get Skittles ready for the next bid,” Bullet snarled at Flashy with his head bowed as he counted money.

  “Damn, I’m just one person. I can’t do everything.”

  In the bedroom with the high bidder, Gianna could smell his expensive cologne. The baller was dressed fly, but he wasn’t as cute as Bullet. She decided that giving him a blowjob might not be as difficult as she thought. Now that she and Bullet were officially in love, she was grateful that the first man she had to suck off wasn’t funky or gross.

  “Can we go without the condom? If I give you a big tip?”

  “I’m not allowed to,” Gianna expressed with a sad face.

  “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he coerced.

  “I’ll get in trouble. I can’t. You have to put it on.”

  “Are you the bitch with the good pussy that I heard niggas pay a fortune to eat?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, let me try some of that. You can jack me off. You allowed to let me go raw dog if you just use your hand, right?”

  “I guess,” she said, giving an unsure shrug.

  “Take them shorts off and get on the bed.” The baller unzipped his jeans and pulled out an average-sized dick.

  “Play with it,” he encouraged. “It can get a whole lot bigger.” He stuck his pole inside her hand. She stroked for a few moments.

  “Wait. Lemme taste your twat and see if it’s really all that.”

  “Okay, but don’t do it too long. I don’t know if my daddy wants anybody licking on me anymore.”

  “He didn’t say I couldn’t.”

  He was right. Bullet hadn’t said that going down on her was off limits. She spread her legs for the baller. He slid his tongue between her folds, lapping her juices until she moaned and clamped her thighs against his face, despite herself.

  At that moment, Bullet opened the door.

  It all happened in a blur. Bullet lunged for the baller and wrenched him away from Gianna. The baller still had his pants down, unable to defend himself when Bullet punched him in the face.

  As Gianna pulled up her shorts, the beefy companion skidded awkwardly into the bedroom, looking irate and ready to defend his baller friend.

  “You aiight, Mookie?”

  “What the fuck your goon-ass gon’ do?” Bullet drew his gun. “I’ll drop yo’ ass and Mookie’s, too. When yo’ big ass fall, muthafuckas gon’ be yelling, ‘timber’!” Bullet gave a sinister laugh.

  In seconds, the baller named Mookie had his attire back in place. He swiftly pulled a gun out of seemingly thin air and fired at Bullet. But his aim was off. The shot hit a dusty, floral picture that was hanging crookedly on a wall.

  Screams and shrieks sounded outside the bedroom. A stampede was heard, heading for the front door.

  “Let’s go, Mookie,” the unarmed sidekick implored. “This nigga ain’t about nothing. He on some bullshit pimpin’. He ain’t worth it. Come on; we better than this. Let’s be out!”

  “Nah,” Mookie said. “This pimp nigga got a gun pointed at me. I ain’t leaving ’til he chalked up on the floor.” Though Mookie was talking tough, his words had a hollow ring. E
ven more telling, the hand that held the gun was shaking like a leaf.

  With skills honed from target practice with his girls, Bullet shot the baller’s gun hand. The gun flopped out of his grip and hit the floor with a clunk.

  “Shit!” Mookie grabbed his wounded hand. Drops of blood plopped on his expensive high-top sneakers.

  “Get the gun, baby,” Bullet told Gianna.

  “Yo, it ain’t even got to be like this. Let’s talk about this…man to man,” the portly sidekick rationalized.

  Gianna slid off the bed. On shaky legs, she crossed the room. She bent over, picked up the gun, and brought it over to Bullet.

  “Hold that jawn. Point it at that muthafucker.” He nodded at the sidekick, who was sweating like he’d just finished jogging a couple laps.

  Target practice had made her deathly afraid of guns. Gianna wanted to scream and throw the gun down. But facing Bullet’s wrath was more frightening than picking up a gun.

  “Man, I’m bleeding out. I gotta get to the hospital,” Mookie said in a raspy, pained voice.

  “Does your hand hurt, Big Ballin’?” Bullet taunted the bleeding man. “You should have thought about needing a doctor before you stuck your face in my bitch’s box. Just cuz you wearing all that ice, don’t mean you can have anything you want. I’m the only muthafucka ’spose to be licking between her legs.”

  “Aiight, man. It ain’t that deep. Lemme get to a hospital.”

  “Nah, you crossed the line. I’ma keep my eye on you right here. I ain’t never witnessed a muthafucka bleed to death. That shit might be interesting.”

  “Nigga, is you crazy?” the sidekick blurted, mopping perspiration from his forehead. “Let my man get to a doctor. He bleeding, man. He needs to handle that.”

  Without a word, Bullet fired off a second shot. Gianna screamed from shock.

  “I’m hit!” the sidekick uttered in amazement, grimacing as he covered the bullet hole in his shoulder. Blood began oozing his fingers. He stared wild-eyed at Bullet. “Whatchu do that for?”

  Bullet cut his eye at Gianna. “Give me Big Ballin’s gun. He leaking too bad to do anything with his piece.”

  After Gianna did as she was told, Bullet looked at Mookie’s gun admiringly. “Nice!” He tucked it inside his waistband.

  “You niggas better not move,” Bullet warned. He pointed his gun from one wounded man to the other, causing them both to flinch, cringe, and cower.

  As he ushered Gianna through the door, he stopped suddenly and turned around. Frowning, he gave both men threatening looks.

  “Y’all big ballin’ muthafuckas fucked up my auction. Start emptying out yo’ pockets. Both of y’all. Hurry up!”

  “Can I call for some emergency assistance after I give you my dough?” Mookie asked.

  Bullet gave Mookie a hateful gaze and then aimed his piece at the man’s sneakers. “Wanna bullet in ya foot?”

  “Naw.” Mookie started digging in his pocket with his good hand.

  “You was frontin’ out there during the auction, acting like you a walking bankroll…” Bullet pointed his gun at the man’s right sneaker. “You better have at least a coupla stacks tucked away.”

  “I do! I gotchu. But I can’t get to my knot. It’s in my right pocket.” The baller was bleeding profusely.

  Using his uninjured arm, the sidekick scrounged around in his own pocket, and then threw a nice-sized wad toward Bullet. “That’s a stack right there.”

  “Gimme both y’all cell phones.”

  Maimed, both men struggled to retrieve their cell phones.

  “Yo, Lollipop! Collect their phones. While you at it, get those rocks outta Big Ballin’s ears. Take all that bling he wearin’. Nigga been blinding my vision ever since he stepped up and started biddin’.”

  Gianna did as she was told. Gun on the floor, her bare foot holding it in place, she removed all the baller’s diamond and gold jewelry and gave it to Bullet. The man howled torturously when she pulled the tightly fitted ring off his bloody, wounded hand.

  CHAPTER 43

  Outside, there wasn’t a car in sight. Luckily, they were on a deserted street. No one had called the cops.

  “Where the fuck did Flashy take my hoes?” Bullet asked Gianna.

  “They probably got a ride from one of the tricks,” Gianna suggested. “He left his car parked in front of the house. The trick probably drove him to pick up his car.”

  “I’ma whip Flashy’s ass for moving my bitches without permission. Plus the fact, that punk knows I gotta stay low-key. Why he showing muthafuckers where I rest my head?”

  “That was real dumb of Flashy to take a trick to your crib.”

  “I might have to shoot Flashy in the head.” Bullet gave his words more thought. “Nah, I’ma let that punk live a little while longer. He got a buyer for Skittles’ baby. I’m expecting a big windfall in another week or two.”

  “For real?” Gianna was overtaken with joy that Samantha was still alive. She didn’t care about the windfall. She wanted to see the baby…make sure she was being cared for properly. Maybe if she told Bullet how much she loved children, he’d change his mind about selling the sweet little girl.

  Skittles wasn’t in her right mind anymore; it was only right that they take responsibility and raise Samantha as their own.

  “Do you see that shit?” Bullet blurted. As they neared Second and Parker Streets, they saw Skittles meandering aimlessly, her gait wobbly in her high heels.

  “What the fuck is wrong with Flashy? How that punk gon’ leave this bitch to wander the streets like she’s homeless?”

  “Skittles!” Gianna yelled out the window. Skittles continued staggering.

  Bullet shot ahead and hit the brakes. “I’m not playing with this bitch.” He jumped out the car, snatched up Skittles, and roughly threw her in the back seat of the car.

  “Where’s Bubblicious?” he asked. Skittles murmured some long-winded nonsense.

  “Where’s Bubbles?” Gianna asked firmly, helping Bullet resolve the problem, though she didn’t expect a coherent response.

  “Running,” Skittles replied to Gianna’s and Bullet’s surprise.

  “Which way she go?” Bullet was infuriated. “I’ma go upside Flashy’s head with the butt of my gun. That faggot know better than to turn my bitches loose like they a pair of worthless stray dogs. These hoes is valuable. I don’t appreciate that punk disrespecting my property like this.”

  Breathing fire, Bullet pulled his cell phone out and called Flashy’s number. “What the fuck’s wrong with your punk ass? How you gon’ drive off and leave my bitches to run loose in the streets?”

  Gianna could hear Flashy’s high-pitched voice, but couldn’t make out his words.

  “Who called the cops?” Bullet sounded distressed.

  Gianna shot a worried glance at Bullet. Visibly upset, he started sniffing and swiping at his nose.

  “My allergies kicking up,” he told her. She quickly rustled through the glove box, searching for his medicine.

  “Why’d you let a trick drive y’all to my crib? Why didn’t you take them back to your crib? You knew I’d be sliding through to grip ’em up. Oh, your man wouldn’t like that! I bet your man don’t mind spending that money you make off my hoes.”

  There was a burst of ear-splitting yelling coming from Flashy’s side of the conversation.

  “I don’t owe you shit,” Bullet barked. “I only made a coupla dollars off that auction. You can blame yourself for that. Ain’t nobody tell you to let all them paying customers run out the door.”

  Flashy yelled something indecipherable.

  “Fake-ass Big Ballin’ ain’t get nothing but a flesh wound. His right-hand man was only grazed a lil’ bit ’round his shoulder area. Them niggas ain’t dead. You could have doctored them up while I kept the bidding going.”

  In a clear, loud voice, Flashy yelled, “Fuck you!”

  “Fuck you, too, punk-ass!” Bullet exploded and then disconnected the call.

/>   He briefly stared into space and then shot Gianna a dirty look. “Did you find my medicine yet, bitch?”

  Her heartbeat thumped in fear of being smacked and, once again, demoted to being treated like dirt. She couldn’t bear to fall out of grace again. “It’s not in the car. I think it’s home…in the bathroom.”

  Visibly trying to calm himself, Bullet took a deep breath and released a sigh. “It’s not your fault, baby. We gotta find Bubbles. Then we gotta get out of town. Chester is hot.”

  “Can we stop and pick up some clothes?”

  “No. That punk-ass Flashy done fucked the game up.”

  “What did he do?”

  “That sucka claims he told Bubbles and Skittles to run cuz the trick was threatening to report a double murder.”

  “You didn’t murder anyone!” Gianna sounded pissed.

  “I know. But that’s just what the fuck I get for letting a fruit loop handle pimpin’ business.”

  “Whatchu gon’ do, Daddy?”

  “Soon as I find Bubbles, we gon’ head to Atlantic City. I’ma call that old dude…you remember my old celly?” Bullet said in a chipper tone, as if he expected Gianna to have fond memories of her time spent with the malicious, sickly ex-pimp. “I’ma call my man and find out if we can crash at his crib ’til I get back on my feet.” Bullet scowled. “But I gotta find that bitch, Bubbles, first.”

  Gianna felt nauseous at the thought of having to stay in the cruel old pimp’s tobacco-reeking house. She dreaded having to hear him fuss at Bullet for not being hard enough on his hoes. He probably would think that Bullet should have beat Bubbles with a wire hanger instead of a belt. And…he would taunt Bullet for cutting off only the tip of Gianna’s finger instead of the entire thing.

  Bullet was a good pimp. He was still learning. He sure didn’t need that crusty old man to be putting torturous ideas in his head.

  There had to be somewhere else they could go besides Atlantic City. Then she thought of Samantha and her heart leapt.