“See what a big mouth gets you.”
“I didn’t mean—” were his last words before I silenced him with two rounds to his face.
I then walked over to Faith Evans, who was now hysterical. “Please don’t kill me, I promise I won’t say anything. I don’t even know him, I just met him tonight.”
“You should watch the company you keep,” I told her before I pressed my .40 cal up against her skull and pumped around into it.
“This chump had the motherlode,” Treacherous said, returning back to the living room with two separate bags of contents.
He scanned the room and saw that I had taken care of my part. We exited quietly the same way we had entered and made it back to our bikes. Once we were out of the area Treacherous doubled back and got the Harley truck. We loaded both bikes onto the back and drove to Norfolk safely. As promised, Treacherous sexed me gangster-style until my body couldn’t take it anymore. That night I had cum eight times to his none and we had come off with nearly 90,000 in cash, a kilo and a half of coke, four pounds of weed, and six guns.
Chapter 10
The next day Treacherous and I decided to lay low. We hung around the house and watched gangster flicks. As usual we started with an oldie. Treacherous had chosen Hell Up in Harlem, Menace II Society, Hoodlum, and Heat last time. It was my choice this time and I chose Black Caesar, Three the Hard Way, Set It Off, and Durdy Game. We were three movies in when Treacherous’s phone went off. He glanced at the screen.
“Yo P what’s the deal?” he answered, placing the call on speaker. I paused the movie.
“Same shit my dude,” Pete replied.
“What’s your status?” Treacherous wanted to know.
“I’m like a li’l over two hours away from where we gonna meet.”
“That’s what’s up, so me and baby girl gonna jump on the road now and we’ll kick it then,” Treacherous sat up and told him.
“All right my dude, see you when you touch.”
Treacherous knew he didn’t have to tell me anything. Although I was enjoying our quality time together I knew it was business time. I rolled out the bed and started getting dressed.
“Babe you getting thicker,” Treacherous complimented.
I just grinned and continued getting dressed.
“I’m for real,” he put emphasis on his words, coming up behind me. He cuffed my ass cheeks with both hands and kissed me on my right collarbone.
“Didn’t you just tell ya boy Pete you and baby girl are about to jump on the road?” I reminded him while fastening my bra from the front.
“He’ll be there when we get there,” was his response right before he spun me around and persuaded my upper body to bend over the bed with a light push of the hand. I looked back at him and moaned, feeling his thick middle finger rub against my clit.
“Damn you stay wet, babe.” His tone grew deep.
“Only for you,” I replied, reaching back for his rock-hard pole. I guided him inside of me while he spread my ass cheeks. My muscles tensed as he penetrated my sex.
“Yeah, you got thicker,” he moaned, sliding in and out of me.
His rhythm started out slow, but with each thrust it increased.
“Yes, right there,” I purred.
“Right there?”
“Yeah.”
The head of Treacherous’s dick brushed against my spot, causing my body to shudder. My inner muscles contracted around his hardness. He grabbed me by my waist, lifted my body in midair, and began pulling me into him. Whenever he did that I knew it was just a matter of time before he exploded. The heavy pounding caused me to climax for a third time. This time my pussy spasms were too much for him.
“Shit,” he cursed right before his legs gave way under him. I could feel his juices showering my insides as he collapsed onto my back. I could feel his body slightly jerk and the head of his dick throbbing inside of me.
“Whose dick is this?” I asked him.
“Yours, boo. Who’s pussy is this?” he retorted.
“Yours,” I replied seductively.
“It better be,” he barked. I didn’t even comment.
Knowing we were behind schedule the two of us hopped in and out of the shower and hurried to get dressed. Within minutes we were dressed and out the door.
We had already loaded the bikes onto the Harley truck the previous night and packed our bags with all the necessaries, so we decided to post up on the outskirts near Myrtle Beach once we met up with Pete. We were nearly half an hour away from Dunn, North Carolina before Treacherous decided to pull off the exit.
“We need gas and I’m starving.”
“Me too.” I rubbed my stomach.
Besides sharing the microwave popcorn during our movie time neither of us had eaten all day.
Treacherous pulled up to the gas pump and we both hopped out.
“Babe, what do you want, Popeyes or Sbarro?”
“Nah, I don’t want no pizza. Get me two breast and a wing with mashed potatoes, let me get sixty on pump seven,” he said all in one breath.
Within a few minutes I was back to the truck with a three-piece meal for Treacherous and a two-piece meal for me. He was sitting in the truck parked to the side waiting for me.
“Pete called, he’s already there,” Treacherous announced as I hopped in.
“And?”
“And nothing. I’m just telling you. I told him we’d be there in under a half.”
Twenty-five minutes later we were veering off on exit 75.
“There he go over there,” Treacherous stated. Pete was leaning up against a gold Ford F-150 sipping on a bottled water. The truck was beautiful and had to have been the latest model.
From where we were, he didn’t look familiar to me. Even though Treacherous had said he had strong Southern ties, Pete had Northerner written all over him. He sported a fitted cap that came down low enough to conceal his eyes, a short-sleeved gray-and-black designer button-up shirt, which he wore open, revealing a long but semi-thin platinum chain with a medallion that draped down past his mid. He had on a pair of charcoal-gray capri cargo pants that resembled too long to be shorts due to his height and a pair of three-quarter gray with black G’s Gucci shoes. We pulled alongside of him. Treacherous parked and got out. I witnessed the two of them exchange manly handshakes. At this time Treacherous noticed that I hadn’t gotten out of the truck. He motioned for me with his hand to get out. Pete took off his fitted and wiped his forehead of perspiration from the heat with a hand towel.
“Long time no see, Teflon,” he greeted. I was hoping he didn’t address me as “ma,” “sweetheart,” or any other title up-north cats used.
Not that it mattered, but now that he had his hat off he vaguely looked as if I had seen him before. I may have recognized him more but he bore a full razor-sharp beard that covered most of his face and was now built like the fighter Kimbo. His beard was the type of style Treacherous and I had seen most men sporting when we went to Philadelphia one year and offed some young money-getters we had followed up there.
“Yeah, long time,” I replied drily.
“You don’t remember me,” Pete boldly stated.
“How could you when you only had eyes for this brother right here.” He smiled, pointing to Treacherous. “That’s what’s up y’all two still together. I wish I could find something that strong,” he said with envy.
Treacherous and I both nodded. I didn’t like too many people, especially guys, but I liked Pete’s style. He seemed down-to-earth and cool.
“I bet you I can tell you something you might remember,” Pete then said.
“What?” Treacherous joined. I smiled on the inside. I knew he wasn’t having that.
“Come on my dude, you know I ain’t gonna say nothing to get me and you to go another round, even though you owe me a rematch,” he joked, referring to their last physical encounter in the youth detention center long ago.
“Any time,” Treacherous extended. His words could have been
taken jokingly or serious because his facial expression was blank, but his tone was mild.
“I’ma remember that, but nah, though. Teflon, you remember the girl from Diggs Park that used to bring you notes from Treacherous?”
I thought for a second. “Tammy?” I remembered
“Yeah. Do you remember after Treacherous left and you got off room lock and she showed you someone and told you she think she found her Treacherous?”
I did remember. “Oh shit, that was you,” I replied.
“Yup.”
“She used to talk my ear off about you. I didn’t wanna hear that shit, but that was my only associate and she was loyal to me and Treacherous. Whatever happened to her?” I really wanted to know.
“She wrote me a few times when she got out, but then stopped writing. You know I had juvenile life like big bro here, but at the time I was still fresh on my sentence. I think it was too much for her. One of the girls that was keepin’ in touch with her put it out there that she got pushed over some dude she was messin’ with from Richmond. I never tried to get the details.”
“Um,” was all I said, not really caring.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Pete ended.
“What’s good with this Myrtle Beach joint?” Treacherous got things back on track.
“Oh, it’s a go, my dude.”
“So who is these jokers?” Treacherous wanted to know.
“They call themselves Fab-five from T-Ville. That’s a little small town called Timmonsville, exit one-fifty-seven off of ninety-five.”
“So what’s the Bike Week score lookin’ like? I mean are they getting’ it or what?”
“Put it this way. They’re called the Fab-five cause they’re the five strongest dudes in the area. Their status down there is more on some rapper celebrity-type shit. These cats own a couple of spots throughout South Carolina. You might’ve heard of some of them or cased a few of ’em out and just didn’t know they were behind ’em. Club Spotlight in south Florence, Ninety-nine Degrees, and Hypnotic both out west in Florence.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with all three.”
“Well then you know these spots pullin’ in nothin’ under twenty to thirty stacks three nights a week each, easy. I partied with these dudes outside of their spots and I never see ’em with nothing under five stacks in their pockets. I went to Myrtle with them last year and they had nothing under ten apiece on ’em. On the low these jokers usually be coppin’ like five to ten birds at a time from me, that’s how they really get their paper.”
“So what type of dudes are they? They’re just some rollover types or we gonna have a problem?” Treacherous asked the question I had been wondering.
“Nah, they’re definitely not no pushover dudes. This the deal,” he started his rundown. “The one named Corey is the hotheaded one, he’ll pop off at the drop of a dime. They call him Suicide ’cause when he’s drinkin’ he gets crazy. He pushed a nigga at a club over leaning against his Charger. Mark D is his right-hand man. He’s the one you gotta watch ’cause he’s kind of quiet, makes you think he doesn’t want any problems, but then later have the gun up in your mouth. Black is the fighter out the crew. He has no problem with buckin’. A few times he knocked a joker out who had a gun pointed at him. If he gets within reaching distance or feel his life is in jeopardy he won’t hesitate to try you. Roton is Corey’s cousin. He’ll lay a joker out for any of his manz, but he’ll lay his life on the line for Corey. Kev is the genius of the crew, college grad, computer wiz, chemist, and mastermind of their entire drug operation and legal businesses. He plays the background, making sure the paper is flowing right, makes sure the product is right, and comes up with the best way to handle beef if it comes their way. In some way or another they all are potential threats,” Pete added.
“That means they all gotta get it then.”
“I mean it’s whatever,” said Pete.
I listened at Treacherous and Pete discussed the upcoming caper. Based on what he had told Treacherous I really wasn’t moved by the numbers he was talking. Treacherous and I had taken risks for less, but we had never put together a job especially so far away from home for the amount of money Pete was talking about.
“So you mean to tell me we doin’ this job for about fifty grand or so? But not really once you get ya cut,” I voiced my opinion on the matter. Judging by Treacherous’s face I could tell we were on the same page with our thoughts.
“Absolutely not,” Pete shot back. “I was saving the best part for last.” He then went on to say, “That’s what took me so long to put it all together. I wanted to make sure this shit was worth it for all of us. While I was up top they hit me on the hip and placed their new order. Initially they wanted six bricks at first, but I convinced them that they should up the order because my connect told me that it was about to be a drought and prices were about to go at least another four or five grand, so they went up and ordered twelve. And the sweet part about it is they want me to bring it to where they’re staying in Myrtle. They told me they’re staying at the Anderson Resorts right there on Ocean Boulevard, smell me.”
“Yeah, that’s sweet right there,” Treacherous replied.
“How much you charge them per key?” I wanted to know.
“Twenty-five.”
I did a quick calculation in my head. “So that’s three hundred grand?”
“Yup.”
“Whatchu expectin’ outta that?” Treacherous asked.
“Something light,” Pete answered. “Just give me a hundred and y’all keep the two.”
That wasn’t a bad deal at all, I thought and neither did Treacherous.
“That’s fair.” Treacherous shook Pete’s hand to seal the deal.
“I play fair my dude,” was Pete’s comeback.
“Yo, so what type of heat you think these jokers gonna be packin’?” Treacherous then asked.
“Really not too much. Last year one of their peoples got bagged with the hammer on the way out there and that kinda shook ’em to be travelin’ like that with bud and liquor drinkin’ and smokin’ in the whip. They’ll probably risk takin’ about one with ’em but nothin’ heavy. These dudes really about that paper rather then some gangster shit. I mean, they’ll do what they gotta do, but they don’t go lookin’ for trouble. Plus they trust me and they know I keep the heat at all times and they know my gun go off. They got a lot of love and respect for me and it was vice versa until my shorty down there told me how the dudes Corey and Mark D had been tryin’a get at her whenever I dip back up top and stay for a while. Dawg, if I was fucks with you I fucks with you, that means any and everything you claimin’ is off limits nah mean. It’s not even about them comin’ at shorty, though it’s about how they went about,” he clarified. “You know ain’t nothing slow about me but my walk, my dude, so I didn’t just take shorty word on face value without investigatin’ the situation so I told her to slip both of them the number like she was interested and if and when they call record the convo. I was buggin’ off these dudes when I heard ’em tryin’a beat my back in just to try to smash. They was hittin’ her with shit like they’d take care of her if she stopped fuckin’ with me, how she’d never want for nothin’, and how I’m not really their manz and that I’m not really from down there, they just do business with me and some more extra shit. But check this shit,” he added. “I tell my shorty to dead one of them from callin’ and pay more attention to the other. So, she deads Mark D and starts hollerin’ at Corey heavy. I shoot down to Atl and NC and then stay up top so they think I’m doin’ my normal. I tell her to feed the nigga some bullshit about how she ain’t fuckin’ with me no more and how she wish I’d just leave her alone and she wanted to be with him. This nigga fucks around and opens up to her about Myrtle Beach.”
“Whatchu mean?” Treacherous asked, not following, but I had an idea.
“He tells her how they intend to set me up and off me for the birds and then he and her can live happily ever after, smell me.”
“Exactly, so ain’t gonna be no happy endin’ on this one, my dude.”
“No doubt, but if that’s the case then why you think they would only bring one gun if they know you comin’ strapped?” Treacherous questioned.
“Because they think they got the drop on me, but you’re right, they could have more. No matter how many joints they got we gotta leave ’em stinkin’ up in that piece.”
“Definitely,” Treacherous spit.
“No other way,” I joined in.
“There it is then.”
Chapter 11
As usual Myrtle Beach was bike infested. Bike clubs, non–bike club riders, and wannabe riders from all over flooded the city’s streets. Females of all shapes, sizes, and colors rode shotgun on the back of some of the hottest bikes in the land, while dudes performed tricks and stunts or just cruising. Some of them wore G-strings and thongs on the back of the bikes while others chose miniskirts with nothing underneath as spectators snapped pictures and videotaped them with camcorders and cellular phones. The females who rode joined in the festivities of tricks and stunts as well. Some of them even sported other females on the back of their own bikes dressed similar to the ones who rode on the back of dudes. If you were a true rider and had a love for bikes then this was the place you needed to be during Memorial Day weekend. Treacherous and I cruised down Ocean Boulevard, checking out the scene. As we approached Nineteenth Street we noticed the sign that read the Anderson Resort. We locked the location in and continued to make our way down the strip. In passing we saw a few bikes that we considered jacking and taking back with us. The only reason we sided against it was because we had already gotten rid of the Harley truck we had drove down in. For the most part of the day Treacherous and I just enjoyed being among fellow riders and appreciating the many different bikes we had come across. As night begin to fall he and I shot back to our motel just ten miles away from the beach and waited for Pete’s signal.
Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 2 Page 7
