Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 2

by J. M. Benjamin

  “We now bring you live footage from Julie Sanchez of the actual chase. Hey Julie, what do you have for us?”

  “Hello, Bob. As you can see, police are in a massive pursuit of a brand-new all-black six hundred CLS Mercedes-Benz. Suspects are believed to be armed and dangerous. So far, all we know is that suspects entered onto Highway two-sixty-four westbound, coming off the ramp, headed toward the Virginia Beach area. It has been confirmed, Bob, that there are two occupants inside the vehicle, both African American: one male, the other female. Our sources who have been following the incident since it erupted, tell us that the driver has been identified as thirty-year-old Treacherous Freeman, from the Tidewater Park area in Norfolk, and thirty-year-old Teflon Jackson, from the Georgetown section of Chesapeake. Sources also say Ms. Jackson may have been injured at the actual scene. Though the actual count has not been confirmed, we are told that Mr. Freeman allegedly shot and possibly killed several officers and pedestrians during the horrendous gun battle, fleeing the scene of the crime while many others were wounded. The emergency medical team is tending those who were fortunate to have survived this unbelievable tragedy. As far as we know no one was injured inside. Both Mr. Freeman and Ms. Jackson have criminal histories. Police authorities continue to pursue the two suspects, who seem as if they have no intentions on giving up at this time. We’ll keep you updated as this tragic story continues to unfold here on Highway two-sixty-four. This is Julie Sanchez, live from WAVY Ten. Back to you, Bob.”

  “Thanks, Julie. Keep us posted. In other news, two teens were gunned down in the parking lot of a local McDonald’s on Princess Anne Boulevard. Hold on—this just came in. Our sources have found out that the black Mercedes-Benz CLS that police had been in pursuit of just hours ago had been reported stolen earlier today. It has now been confirmed that the CLS six hundred Mercedes belonged to a Marcus Bullock of Brooklyn, New York. Mr. Bullock and another teen were gunned down in front of a local McDonald’s on Princess Ann Boulevard, after being carjacked by Mr. Freeman and Ms. Jackson. The local authorities have confirmed the connection between the McDonald’s murders and the bank robbery. Our sources also tell us that Mr. Freeman’s father, a Mr. Richard Freeman, was convicted over seventeen years ago for single-handedly robbing the same bank for over a million dollars. He is currently serving a thirty-year sentence in Petersburg Federal Institution.”

  Everyone in the dayroom turned and looked at Rich, who continued watching the TV.

  “Although this hasn’t been confirmed, it is believed to be true that Mr. Freeman and Ms. Jackson took close to two million dollars. Hold on, I’ve just been told there have been some new developments in our top story. Julie, are you there?”

  “Yeah, Bob, as you can see, the pursuit has come to an end. Police have the entire highway shut down. After reaching the Virginia Beach exit, the SUV. stopped shortly thereafter on the ramp. Our sources tell us that Mr. Freeman and Ms. Jackson were ordered to throw out their weapons along with the vehicle keys, and they complied. We’ve also been told the officer in charge instructed the occupants to exit the vehicle. Apparently, this is what authorities are waiting for to take the suspects into custody. Hold on—the driver door just opened. Oh, my god! As you can see, one of the suspects has opened fire on the authorities. It appears to be Mr. Freeman who is the actual gunman. There has been no sign of Ms. Jackson, but Mr. Freeman continues to attack authorities, as they are under rapid fire. I can’t believe this is actually happening. For those of you who have just tuned in, this is live coverage of the shootout between one of the alleged bank robbers of Bank of America and the authorities. Wait! Something seems to be happening. Police are running toward the Mercedes.”

  Rich watched as his son was gunned down on live television. He hadn’t shed a tear up until now since the last he had seen his son on a visit, but as he continued to listen to the anchorman his face moistened.

  “It’s been confirmed this disastrous incident has ended in tragedy. Six state police and four federal agents were killed in the line of fire, five others were wounded. Mr. Treacherous Freeman was shot and killed during the horrendous shoot. Miraculously, Ms. Teflon Jackson was found unconscious with a bullet-inflicted wound inside the vehicle, but our sources say she is not expected to make it. The money was recovered inside of the Mercedes. What drove a young man to such a tragic ending, no one knows but that man himself. This is Julie Sanchez, live from WAVY TV Ten.”

  “You have one minute remaining,” was what snapped Rich out of his trip down memory lane.

  “O.G. It’s almost count time. I’ma call you back after it clears.”

  “Don’t bother, Gunz. I sent you some things in the mail. You should get ’em tomorrow or the next day. Call me then and we’ll discuss ’em.”

  “Fair enough,” Rich answered, respecting his wishes. The phone cut off before he could get to ask O.G. what he had sent him. He was tempted to call back after the prison head count cleared to find out, but sided against it. Something in the way O.G. had informed him of the mail he intended to receive just didn’t sit right with Rich. As he walked to his area, Rich wondered what it could be he was expecting.

  Chapter 7

  It was two in the morning and Teflon could not sleep. She had been tossing and turning all night. Today was March 3rd. To many that day was just an ordinary one, but to Teflon it was more then that. Today was the anniversary of Treacherous’s birthday and she could not stop thinking about him, which was nothing new, but today was different. It was this date that made it possible for the two of them to ever meet. Images of him and her invaded her sleep. As usual, whenever she thought of Treacherous, Teflon pulled out her pen and pad from underneath her mattress and turned on her night-light. She had intended to start on the chapter she had in mind sometime throughout the course of the day but decided now was as good of a time as any. She opened the spiral notepad up and began to put her thoughts on paper.

  “Memorial Weekend,” she named the chapter.

  The entire week leading up to Memorial Day weekend was an unforgettable one for me and Treacherous. A lot was going on during that time. This was the first time the two of us had actually utilized assistance outside of ourselves. Although everyone within the seven cities knew how we got down, no one ever knew our business, but it was Treacherous’s decision and I rode with him on his call. I knew it took a lot for him to ask for help or accept it, so if he agreed to it then he had definitely thought it thoroughly through.

  “Treach, did that call come through yet?” I asked.

  “Not yet boo, still waitin’ on this joker. If he don’t reach out to me by tomorrow then I’m gonna hit him ’cause I don’t wanna blow this opportunity down Bike Week. I rather have something definite set up versus us freestylin’ tryin’a find a lick.”

  The joker Treacherous was referring to was a guy by the name of Pete, originally from New Jersey, but got into some trouble when he was a juvenile and ended up in the Norfolk Detention Center. He normally despised Northerners but said Pete was an exceptional to the rules because he had strong Southern ties. His family migrated from South Carolina and Virginia to the north, but a great deal of them were still in the south, which kept him coming down. Treacherous said I knew him from when we were in there. Back then, and now there was only one nigga I had eyes for or even paid attention to, anyone else was of no importance to me and he knew it. Treacherous had told me that out of all of the fights throughout the years he had served in the youth facility, Pete was the only one he had given him a run for his money. It was because of that Treacherous said he befriended him when the two had run into each other at Myrtle Beach a couple of years back. Treacherous had told me that Pete had relocated to South Carolina after he left the detention center and started getting money out there, but occasionally dibbed and dabbed in our line of work. No matter what the case was, if Treacherous trusted it, then so did I.

  “Whatever you say, I’m with you, babe,” I agreed.

  “Yeah, that’s the best route an
d just so you know,” he added, “we’re not gonna ride our bikes down to South Carolina. Just to be on the safe side, rather then ride three to four hours down and risk tippin’ somebody off who might be going down from this way, we might as well get a truck, cover ’em up and pull ’em.”

  “Okay,” I stated. “That makes sense. And you don’t even have to tell me that the truck we gonna get to pull ’em will leave from VA but won’t make it back.” I could always finish Treacherous’s next thought. We were just that close.

  “You know it boo.”

  As we cruised the local area in Treacherous’s Yukon. I noticed a familiar face.

  “Babe, look right there,” I pointed.

  “Where?”

  “Right there, ol’ boy, the tall, light-skinned one with the blue Yankee fitted on.”

  “Who the fuck is that?”

  “That’s the clown-ass nigga I told you that said that slick shit to me when we were down by Military Circle Mall the other day.”

  Treacherous took a closer look. “Nah you ain’t tell me that and that nigga still walkin’ around breathin,’” Treacherous spit.

  I couldn’t help but smile at how overprotective he was when it came to me.

  “No babe, it wasn’t like that. I already know his life was spared. Remember when I came back and told you some bozo tried to push up on me when I was coming from the bathroom, but we were pressed for time because we were scoping out ol’ boy and his man from Bad News?” I refreshed his memory.

  “That nigga?” he pointed in disbelief.

  “Yup.”

  “Hold up, as a matter of fact, I think he was up in da club the Alley when we were squattin’ on them jokers too or either Blakely’s out in Chesapeake. One of ’em,” Treacherous thought back.

  “Maybe, I don’t know, but I knew we’d see him again,” I said.

  “We about to see him right now,” Treacherous barked, attempting to pull over.

  “No babe, keep going,” I instructed.

  “What?”

  “Nigga, you heard me, I said keep going.”

  Just as I would never question him, Treacherous did not question me either. Instead he waited until I provided him with an explanation.

  “Guess what that nigga drives, babe?” I asked.

  Come on with the guessin’ games,” he replied, semi-heated that I didn’t let him get out and take the light-skinned kid’s life.

  “Babe, just guess.”

  “A tricycle.”

  “No, Steve Harvey. A Harley truck,” I boasted.

  Instantly Treacherous’s mean mug was replaced with a smile. He knew I was letting him know this was our means of transportation to South Carolina.

  “And that shit is gonna leave VA but it won’t be comin’ back just like his ass,” Treacherous stated.

  “I knew you were gonna say that.”

  “We gotta find out where this nigga lay his head at.”

  “On it, been on it,” I told him.

  “What did you find out?”

  “The next day I saw him talkin’ to Gov when I went to go get us some pizza.”

  “Who, the Ghetto Governor?” Treacherous used his full street monarch.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, what happened?”

  “I started to get his punk ass then, but it was too many people out. So I let it ride and that’s when I saw him hop in the Harley truck. Gov went up in Domino’s and I followed. As soon as he saw me he spoke and asked about you. I told him you were laying low as usual. I think he thought I was tryin’a get ’em by the look on his face when he first saw me. You know Gov get that money too, that legal money. I put him at ease, though, and gave him a hug.”

  “Yeah, Gov should know he one of the ones we fuck with,” Treacherous interjected. “Especially since he’s always hookin’ us up with the free passes to all the major events in the cities, but then what tho?”

  “After we ordered I asked Gov who ol’ boy was. At first he acted like he had amnesia until I described the dude. The first thing came out his mouth about ol’ boy was, “Don’t tell me that nut-ass nigga said something fly out of his face to you? If he did he must didn’t know who you was.”

  I downplayed the situation but Gov knew. He told me he was one of them dope boys from North Carolina and be traveling back and forth between here, Atl and SC moving weight. He said when he’s in town he’s usually driving the silver Harley-Davidson truck with the twenty-sixes on it and got a spot down in Hampton off the Boulevard. He didn’t have an address for me but he said he stays in a white house with a double-door garage and it be helluv bikes in the front yard and a few pit bulls in some kennels on the side of the house. He also told me the kid works alone, doesn’t have a crew out here with him. Always brags about how much work he put in and will put in if someone thinks it’s sweet. Gov said every time he runs into the nigga he got a different piece of hardware on him. By the time he finished telling me all of that his pizza was ready. I offered to pay him for the love but he refused. He wouldn’t even let me treat him to his pizza, so I told him we owed him one and knew how to get at us if he ever had a problem. Before we parted the funny thing was he asked were we goin’ to Myrtle for Bike Week. I thought he was gonna say he had a problem down there, but he just wanted to know because he thinks we got the best bikes in the world. He said he was going so I made a mental note of that and didn’t give him a definite answer as to whether we were. What I actually told him was we were thinking about shooting down to Miami. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but the least he knew the better.”

  “That’s what’s up, you did right,” Treacherous said when I finished. “Yeah, we owe Gov one for that, though.”

  Once we mapped out how we were going to run down on the North Carolina hustler, Treacherous and I sexed and took it down for the night.

  The next morning I woke Treacherous to the smell of turkey sausages, scrambled eggs with cheese, home fries, and buttered and jellied toast with a tall glass of orange juice.

  “Babe, get up,” I shook him.

  He was dead to the world and I knew the reason why.

  “Babe, get up,” I repeated. “I made us some breakfast.”

  “What time is it?” he asked in his raspy tone I so loved rolling over. It was in the morning when his voice was most harsh. Something about it just sent chills through my body.

  “It’s seven-thirty.”

  “Seven-thirty,” he growled. When he opened his eyes he saw me standing there in my lucky powdered-blue Victoria’s Secret matching bra and thong set, holding his breakfast in hand.

  “Yeah, seven-thirty, nigga, the same time we always get up,” I shot back. “I knew I wore that ass out. You couldn’t hang with the Teflon Don. I put that hard-core gangster lovin’ on that muthfuckin’ ass last night. Lil’ Kim ain’t got shit on me. Who’s the baddest bitch?” I teased.

  “I’ma let you get that,” Treach said with his signature smile. “But because you poppin’ shit, after we make this next move I’ma tear that ass up.”

  “Whatever,” was all I said.

  “You know how I get after a good hit.”

  And he was right. Just the thought of us knocking off the light-skinned hustler from NC made my inner thigh moisten. The best sex Treacherous and I ever had was after a robbery we had committed. In fact, all of our best sex encounters were after one of our capers.

  “Thanks for breakfast boo, I was starving.”

  “You’re welcome babe, now hurry up and scarf that down. I already showered and I left it running for you.”

  “Did you get any more soap?” he asked, shoving an entire turkey sausage into his mouth.

  “Yes, I got you some more Lever Cool Fresh liquid soap,” I answered, knowing that’s what he was really asking. That was his favorite and the only kind he’d use since it came out.

  “That’s why I love you Tef.”

  “I love you too. Now hurry up. By the time you’re done in the shower I should be dressed. I
already ironed your black V-neck T, some black jeans, and pulled out your black high-top Pradas.”

  “Thank you baby.” After eating one more spoonful of eggs, Treacherous hopped out of bed and into the shower. I just couldn’t resist. I made my way into the bathroom, removed my bra and panties, and put on my shower cap. The glass shower door was so steamed up and the water was running so hard that he never noticed me. He was washing his face when I entered the shower. My hand wrapping around his semierect dick made him aware of my presence.

  “I thought you were supposed to be getting dressed.” He shook his head.

  “I was,” I replied just as I slithered my way down between his legs. Without hesitation I took Treacherous into my mouth.

  “Boo go ahead, why you starting?” he moaned. I paid him no mind. The water tap-danced on my back as I pushed him to the back of the shower, placed my hands on the side of his hips, and continued tasting my man.

  “Shit, boo don’t start nothing you know you can’t finish.” Treacherous pushed me off of him. With his hardness still in my hand I looked up at him.

  “I’m serious,” he said.

  I just smiled and got up. “Punk,” I then said before exiting the shower.

  “I needed that, that shit felt good,” Treacherous said, walking into the room in the nude. The way his abs glistened and indented from under his chest down to his waist always caused my heart to skip a beat.