“Mothafucka, you said let’s roll so let’s roll. Besides, don’t be telling me what the fuck to do,” Parker said as he brushed past Feet.
It took all Feet had not to take his pistol out of his waistband and whip Parker. He quickly thought up a better plan.
When they reached the living room and began exiting the house, Feet quietly pulled Red to the side and told him to follow Parker and let him know if he saw anything funny. That there was a thousand in it for him. Red was young, but knew what Feet was thinking—that Parker had something to do with the funny shit that was happening.
* * *
Feet was sitting in the car with Greg and Shaun. He was in the back seat explaining what he and Dave saw—the Black Charger with Detective Styles in it. Greg knew what time it was, Elisa had described the detectives to him and what had transpired at her spot. She was pissed and vowed to get their money back for the large amount of cocaine she had to flush. Greg wasn’t worried about it, but hated that he had to explain what happened on his watch.
Greg took a hit of the Courvoisier he had in a flask and passed the cognac to the backseat. Feet grabbed it, took a hit then passed it back. Greg held the flask toward Shaun who turned, declining a taste.
Greg took another hit then said, “Good looking on the call, my nigga. That’s that grimy ass Styles and his boys. They were looking for a payday.”
“They didn’t get shit?” Feet asked sounding surprised.
“Nah, nigga. You called just in time. We lost what we dropped off to Elisa’s dyke ass, but got the other dope and money. But we got a bigger problem.” He took a hefty swig. “The way I see it, there’s a snitch in the camp.”
Shaun’s cell rang. “What’s up, baby?”
“When you gonna come get some of this good stuff? I miss you, baby,” Teresa said speaking in codes letting her man know she’d made it to the safe house with the drugs and money.
“I’ll be there later, just keep it tight for me, holla,” he replied. “My girl made it with the money and the shit,” he told Greg.
Feet’s cell rang, and he saw that it was Red. He answered, and Red told him what he suspected—that Parker was a rat. After Parker dropped Red off at his girl’s house, Red didn’t go inside the apartment, but got in his car and followed Parker, who had met someone in a black Dodge Charger. They talked for a moment, then Parker got out of the car and back into his, then they both drove off.
Feet slid his cell back in his pocket. He was fuming as he turned and looked out the window into the darkness. “Mothafucka!” he spat.
Greg turned and glared into the backseat. “Problem?” he asked with a raised brow.
“Yeah, I told you I didn’t like your man.”
“Who?” Greg asked.
“Parker. I put someone on his ass ’cause he was acting funny in the spot when shit went down. Not answering his cell in front of me and shit like that.”
“Get to it. Tell me something that gonna explain losing ten kilos!” Greg said irritated knowing that if Parker had something to do with the jack move, he would have to explain to Reese and Noonie since he’s the one who put Parker on.
“My man followed him when they left the house, and that was him who called. He watched Parker meet that Detective Styles. Sat right in his Charger and got out carrying what looked to be an envelope,” Feet said adding a little extra sauce on the story.
Shaun glanced at Greg who turned and stared out the windshield as drops of rain began to fall. Shaun clicked on the wipers as the rain began to pelt the car with heavy drops.
Shaun had a serious look on his face. “You know what you gotta do,” he said to Greg.
Greg blew a hard breath knowing that he didn’t want to kill Parker because he’d known him for many years. But if Parker was snitching, it meant that he didn’t give a fuck about Greg.
Shaun saw the worry lines on Greg’s face, and unlike Feet, he knew Greg’s dilemma. But if there was one thing Shaun didn’t agree with, it was prison, so he knew Parker had to go.
Shaun’s look was serious. “My nigga, I know what you thinking. But homey gots to go.”
Feet noticing Greg’s hesitation so he said, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” Greg said.
“I’ll slump the nigga. I know that’s your boy, but I told you, I ain’t neva liked his punk ass. Always tryna flex on me and shit ’cause you and him was close.”
“We weren’t close like that,” Greg replied.
Feet continued, “I mean, you know. You put him on, but that nigga didn’t like the fact that I’m younger, and he’s been in the game longer so he never gave me the respect I deserved, so he was always buckin’ a little bit. Besides, my little homey saw that nigga with the police and know he set us all up. So Parker worked for me, and I work for you. It’s my problem, just gimmie a couple days to handle it,” he said as he raised his shirt exposing the Glock that was tucked comfortably in his waistband.
Greg said, “Handle that. Now let us get the fuck out of here so we can get the shit from Teresa.”
Feet opened the door and sprinted back inside his house. A smile was on his face as the rain fell on it. He was going to enjoy killing Parker.
5
“Girl, I ain’t about to fuck up this money. Call me as soon as I can get those other ones.”—COOKIE
Shaun stirred, then awoke. He stretched, then threw the covers off his body. He was butt-naked, the way he liked to sleep. He walked to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He turned on the shower, stepped in, and as he showered he thought of last night’s events. He placed his hands on the tile and let the hot, steamy water do its best to relax him as it pelted and flowed down his body. Shaun was a hustler, and after saving Tesha and Chantel, Slim’s crew invited him in with open arms, and they were glad they did because he proved to be honest and loyal over the past couple of years. But after last night, he questioned the game of hustling. Anytime someone in your crew decided to cooperate with the law, shit could, and always did get funky, and when the detectives had him and Greg cuffed and on the ground as they searched their vehicle, he knew if they hadn’t been alerted by Feet, he would’ve been waking up in a holding cell in a prison full of men instead of a house with a fine woman.
“The game is getting fucked up,” he muttered.
“You okay, what’s fucked up?” Teresa asked as she entered the bathroom.
“Nothing, I’m cool,” Shaun said.
“Don’t sound like it,” Teresa said as she pulled the curtain back, slid off her robe and stepped into the shower.
She grabbed a hold of Shaun who stood about six-one, so Teresa, who is five-three, easily rested her head on his chest. She rubbed on his stomach and then down to his crotch. She looked up at him and said, “You’re starting to get a little weight around the belly.”
Shaun, who was thirty, was nowhere near fat, but years of eating and drinking well could put some weight on any man. “Yeah, but I look good, and besides, everyone can’t be as slim as you, skinny minnie,” Shaun joked.
Teresa was slim. Slim with a firm ass and large breasts for her petite frame. It was the way Shaun liked his women, petite. He was a pretty boy with a rough edge, and Teresa was a girl he’d known since high school. She had always been a bit tomboyish, but all that changed once she began dating and having sex after finishing high school. She was going to a community college for a year then dropped out and began working retail at various stores in the mall, and that is where Shaun spotted her working at a men’s clothing store. He spent a lot of money, she received a fat commission, he got her number and the rest is history. They have been kicking it for several years, breaking up a few times because of Shaun being in the streets, which meant women on the side, but Teresa would always find her way back simply because she was hooked on the fast money. She became a ride or die chick for Shaun, and he took care of her. And after handling her business last night, she knew Shaun would get the C-class Mercedes she’s been wanting.
Shaun sa
id, “On a serious note. You did good last night.” He kissed her on the forehead.
“Can’t have my man caught up, then we wouldn’t be able to do this,” Teresa cooed seductively. She then kissed Shaun deeply as she raised her leg and Shaun held it as he entered her.
Shaun lifted Teresa and she wrapped her legs around his waists as he bounced her petite body up and down on his manhood. She bucked back and under the water they fucked like Tarzan and Jane in the rainforest of Africa.
* * *
Trish rolled over and could smell breakfast food. She rose and whisked strands of hair from her face. She was wearing one of Slim’s Chicago Bears t-shirts. She stretched her head to look over the bed to the downstairs of the open floor plan loft. She saw Slim standing in front of the counter chopping some fruit. She smiled and laid back down on what had to have been the most comfortable mattress she had ever laid on. And her head form fitted into the pillow as if it were made for her. She was smiling from ear to ear, remembering the night of eating Chinese food and then drinking wine as she listened to Slim play his saxophone, and she was impressed by the way he played along with the great saxophonist, Kenny G. She must’ve gotten tipsy, because after that she couldn’t remember anything. Her smile quickly faded, and she ran her hand up her leg, finding what she was looking for—her panties were still on. A smile crept back on Trish’s face. It wasn’t that she was happy that she didn’t sleep with Slim. She was happy because she didn’t want to have slept with him and not remembered it because she had gotten too tipsy.
Trish walked down the steps, and Slim, who was dressed in a pair of tan cargo shorts and a white Polo, chopping vegetables, looked at her and said, “Oh, sleeping beauty finally awakes.”
“How much did I drink?” she asked.
“Finished off a bottle. You started dozing, so I gave you a t-shirt, and within minutes you were in the bed asleep.
Trish glanced at the sofa and saw the folded covers, pillow and slippers. Slim noticed and said, “Don’t worry, you were a lady and didn’t try anything. I slept on the couch.”
They laughed lightly, Trish then said, “What are you cooking?”
“Well, I’m going off what I saw you eating at Ray’s, so I have a veggie omelet and toast. I also made my own version of a fruit salad.”
She stepped to the counter and picked up a strawberry. “Good, because I’m starving!” she said as she seductively ate the piece of fruit.
Slim couldn’t help himself. He set down the knife he was using to cut the vegetables and walked over to Trish. He grabbed her by her waist, pulled her toward him so that their bodies connected. She swallowed what fruit was in her mouth, tilted her head, then the two kissed. Slow at first but then their emotions took over. She grabbed Slim’s athletic ass, and he ran his hand up her under her t-shirt, up to her breast. He enjoyed her softness and the way her nipple grew from his masculine, yet gentle touch. He used his other hand to cup her ass, and in one motion he lifted her to the counter.
He gazed into her eyes. “I want to taste you,” he told her.
She didn’t say anything; she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it off. Slim kissed her soft lips and suckled her breasts. She enjoyed the feeling of his lips and fleshy tongue as he made her feel good. Slim reached and pulled the bowl of fruit toward them. He grabbed a slice of mango and held the piece of juicy, exotic fruit to Trish’s lips. It turned him on the way her pink tongue slipped out of her mouth and circled the fruit. She sucked the slice free from his hand, and part of it extended from her lips. She placed her hand on the back of his head and guided him to her. He took the rest of the mango in his mouth, and they shared the fruit and each other.
Mangos, strawberries, pineapples and kiwis, Slim used them all to tease her body. Circling her brown nipples, belly button, earlobes and neck with pieces of the fruit leaving trails juice that he licked and sucked from her body. Slim kissed between her breasts, licked a sticky trail down her belly past her button until he found what he was looking for. Her covered her love with his mouth and began spelling his name with his tongue on what he was claiming as his as she moaned and bucked from the delightful pleasure.
* * *
Shaun was getting dressed in a pair of South Pole jean shorts and a graphic T when Teresa came walking into the bedroom. She was already dressed and ready to go. “So you’re only giving Cookie three kilos this time?”
“Yeah, and tell her they are twenty-two and not twenty,” Shaun replied.
“Damn, Shaun, you know she’s going to trip. That’s my cousin, why can’t we show her some love?”
Shaun slipped on his white Air Force Ones then said, “Need I remind you about last night? We just lost ten kilos. I have other people that I have to get some work to.”
“Okay, I’m going to meet Cookie in an hour, and then I’m having lunch with Chantel and Tesha.”
Shaun stood and kissed his girl on the forehead. “Be careful, and you know what to do once she got the shit.”
“I will,” she said then walked out of the bedroom.
Teresa was to call Shaun with a code to let him know all was good. If she didn’t, then Shaun was to assume she had got knocked. He sprayed a hit of Derrick Jeter body spray on himself, grabbed a pistol and slid it in the small of his back. As he looked himself over in the mirror, he heard the engine to Teresa’s Chevy Malibu. He thought about how he was going to surprise her with the Mercedes she’s been hinting about. She deserved it because she helped him make money. At first, he thought that she was like most women, addicted to what the money could buy, but he began to realize that he had become like the men that got trapped in the game. Addicted to the power and fast life like the dope fiends who were addicted to the drugs they sold. He just hoped they would be able to get out in the next year like they had planned because he knew there were only two endings for lifers in the game—dead or in jail.
Shaun was snapped out of his trance when his cell rang. He noticed it was Reese. “What’s up, my nigga?”
“You at the crib?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I just finished talking to Slim. Told him about last night. I’ll fill you in when I get to your spot.”
“Ahight, how long?”
“About ten minutes, peace.”
“Peace, my nigga,” Shaun said then ended the call.
* * *
“Why you only have three for me? And I gotta pay twenty-two!” Cookie yelled. “Shit, we been doin’ five at twenty apiece.”
“Cookie, some shit happened. Shaun and them lost about ten kilos last night,” Teresa replied.
“Word? Damn, anybody get knocked?” Cookie asked in a concerned tone.
“Nah, but that’s all I know. You know Shaun don’t talk much about his business. So you got the money. I have to meet Chantel for lunch.”
Cookie went to a safe that was in a closet. As she turned the knob setting the combination she asked, “Didn’t she have her baby?”
“Yeah, girl, about two months ago. Y’all still haven’t talked.”
“Hell, nah. The way Noonie played my brother, I don’t have shit to say to none of them,” she said as she counted the band of money.
“I guess, girl,” Teresa said. She didn’t want to get into a conversation about Noonie and DC. The two men had been boys since they were kids living on the west side of Gary, but when DC brought an undercover into their crew and caused a soldier to die and Slim to lose large amounts of money, Slim ordered Noonie to kill DC. Noonie couldn’t do it and told him to get out of town. Not to contact anyone and never to come back. DC was glad that his friend spared his life but was pissed that Slim ordered him to be hit—even though DC broke the rules of the game.
Cookie handed Teresa the sixty-six thousand and Teresa handed her the grocery bag with the three kilos.
“You know I’m the one taking a hit only driving three kilos to Tennessee. Shit, you know DC gonna be pissed. I’m making you a lot of money. Next time, see if I can get
at least seven to make up for the two I didn’t get this time.”
“I will, and tell DC I said hello, and hold it down.”
“I will. He’s killing them boys down there in Memphis. Three major players down there got knocked so he’s really the only one with good dope.”
Teresa stood and gave Cookie a hug. “I gotta run, and remember DC’s dead. You know if anyone finds out—”
“Girl, I ain’t about to fuck up this money. Call me as soon as I can get those other ones.”
Teresa left Cookie’s house and was thinking that she had made a big mistake when she started selling kilos to Cookie. At first, Cookie lied and said the drugs were being sold by her boyfriend. Teresa started her out with a half a kilo and that grew to one kilo, then three, then five. When Cookie’s boyfriend left her, Teresa was about to cut her off, but Cookie came clean that she was driving the drugs to DC. At first, Teresa cut her off, but then she didn’t have that extra thirty-five hundred dollars a month going into her pocket from Cookie alone, so the hustler in her agreed to keep the kilos coming with the promise that it wouldn’t get out that the drugs were going to DC—or it would mean her ass also.
* * *
“What’s up, my nigga?” Shaun said as he gave Reese some dap before locking the door.
Reese hadn’t wasted any time getting to Shaun’s house. He had talked to Slim about what had transpired the night before and had to get things in order. Reese wasn’t surprised when Slim didn’t get pissed after he told him that the cops had run into their spot. But he was surprised that Slim’s reaction was subtle when he told him that a shorty in their camp was the source to the police that they had some kilos coming in—when and where.
“That shit last night is what’s up. You got a brew for a nigga?” Reese asked. He stretched and his white Polo rose exposing his waist and the pistol that was tucked in the waistband of his jean shorts.
Shaun was in the kitchen reaching in the refrigerator for one of the Bud Lights. When he turned, Reese was in the kitchen reaching on the counter for one of the sausage patties that was on the paper towel. Shaun handed him the beer and asked, “So, what Slim say?”
The Corner III (No Way Out) Page 9
