Thick As Thieves
Page 9
“Well, well, well, what so do we have here.” Deuce had a freaky grin on his face. It was like his face had transformed, Ryan had never seen him like this before.
“Deuce…” Ryan began pleading.
“Shut the fuck up and stand up.” He demanded. The girls stood up still hugging each other. Deuce still had the gun pointing at them.
“I think we got ourselves a little situation.” Deuce motioned his gun as if he was about to set it off. Once at Ryan and then at Erin. They flinched at his actions unsure of what to expect next.
“We can explain.” Erin sniffled.
“Explain to me, why the fuck you two are in my closet? Try me.” Deuce crossed his hands across his chest waiting for them to clarify.
“Lost for words?” Deuce laughed. He circled around the girls magnifying their fear. He ran his hand up and down Ryan. Afraid to move, she let him grope her.
“Let me help you. The beautiful Ryan here used the spare key to enter my house without my permission. Do you know, if I were to kill you both right now, my ass would be covered? I was just protecting myself.” He traced Erin’s jawline with the tip of the gun. Ryan watched from her peripheral, praying for her sister as her cries grew louder.
“Shh, shh, now.” Deuce wiped away Erin’s tears with his left thumb. Erin smothered her cries the best she could.
“As I was saying, you two were looking for something,” he held the gun up to his lips, “perhaps, I don’t know. Money!” He gritted his teeth and moved face to face with Ryan.
“What? Y'all ain’t get enough?” For the first time Erin looked at Ryan and Ryan looked back at her, neither one of them knew what to say.
Deuce dropped his head down, “Didn’t think I knew about that, huh? I know every fucking thing!” The sweet, suave guy Ryan once knew, was nonexistent at this point.
“Every fucking thing! Calvin and Lorraine, the niggas from the strip club, and any other niggas y'all was throwing the pussy at. I’m impressed though, y’all ain’t have to give up none of that cat before running them niggas pockets. Marie passed down some good ass genes.” He licked his lips as he observed their bodies.
“You wanna know my favorite story though? Y'all gonna love this one.” He used the gun to scratch his goatee. “Stephon’s. You know him right, Erin.”
Erin didn’t answer until his gun, touched her skin then she shook her head yes.
“Oh, I know you do. I told Stephon it was just a job, but he ain’t give a fuck. His dumb ass started feeling you. That’s why if you want the job done right, you gotta do it yourself. Nigga was caught slipping with his pants down.” Deuce put his attention back on Ryan, “and Miss Hot-Hands here shot him. I like you, yo. You trained to go, just like the old man Big Don. Too bad your shot wasn’t lethal like you thought it was.”
This was the second time Deuce had referenced their parents. Ryan never opened up about them, all she ever told him was that they died about a year ago. There’s no way Don was running his mouth, he was too private for all that.
“Ryan, you got wrinkles in your forehead, what you thinking about?” Deuce asked as if he was concerned for real.
Ryan swallowed hard, her throat was so dry she could start a fire.
“How do you, how do you know their names?” Erin was stuck confused, she figured Ryan had told him, but now she knew otherwise.
“Didn’t I tell you I know everything? Like how their warm blood stained those pretty white seats in the middle of a hot summer day.”
Without thinking Ryan charged at Deuce, there was no way she was going to listen to him talk about her parents’ death like that. She didn’t care if he was holding a gun.
“Ryan!” Erin screamed out trying to contain her sister.
Deuce laughed, he wasn’t moved by Ryan’s temper tantrum. All he had to do was hold his gun back up, and she stopped.
“What? You mad? Don’t be. Ya Pops wasn’t the stand-up guy, you thought he was. Ma Dukes was nice, though and fine as fuck. She was just in the wrong place at the right time.” He smiled.
“Big Don was that nigga. Shit, I admired him, until he barked up the wrong tree. If there was one thing my Pops, Eddie taught me, it was to never let anyone fuck with the family. He killed my Pops right in front of me. Right in fucking front of me!” Deuce’s emotions were getting the best of him. He kept this bottled up inside of him for so long, it was hard to let go of.
“So, I had to make him pay. What better way to do it, than to kill him and his bitch? I thought that was enough, but the pain didn’t go away. I had to make every single person who was affiliated with this nigga pay. And you three were all he had left.”
Erin and Ryan’s eyes grew wide, “Oh, I forgot to mention, Don. My bad, he did it to himself. He should’ve known better than to move so sloppy. No worries though, my niggas handled that. He sends his love.” Deuce drew his arm across his neck.
“Oh my God, no!” Erin called out. Deuce just admitted to killing their parents and having Don’s throat slit. She couldn’t take it any longer. Her heart and knees were weak.
“I spent a lot of money keeping the lights on for you thieving ass bitches. That’s the least I could do until it was time to make y’all pay too. I didn’t know y’all was going to fall into my lap like this though. Y'all made it easy for a nigga. If I would’ve known all I had to do was show you the money vault, I would’ve done that a long time ago. Here I am tryna butter ya ass up, singing songs and shit.”
Deuce started shining his gun with his shirt, “Pray to God you can cope/I’ll stand outside/This woman’s work/This Woman’s work/Ooooh it’s hard on a man/now his part is over.”
BANG! BANG!
Deuce let off two shots, one for each twin. It was like Déjà vu. August 4, 2017. He smirked as he watched their body’s drop like flies. Deuce gained immediate gratification once they were no longer breathing.
“Damn nigga, took you long enough,” Stephon stepped into the room, “telling stories and singing and shit. And I heard what you said about me too. Nigga, I ain’t dumb. The bitch did have a fat ass, though.”
“Nigga shut the fuck and help me clean this shit up.” Deuce smiled.
The End
Mariah James
Mariah James is an Urban Fiction author from Rochester, New York. She welcomed readers into her creative mind with the hit novel, Planez, released in 2016. “I use my words to connect with readers. I want them to visualize every word they read, feel every emotion, and become a part of the story,” says James. Mariah James is also the CEO behind, Press 3 Seventeen publishing.
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