The Day the Streets Stood Still

by JaQuavis Coleman

  “Ahh, ahhh,” Sunny groaned, her body tingled everywhere. Even Faheem had never given her head so good.

  “Stop . . . don’t let her cum,” Faheem instructed, grabbing Lucky’s long blond hair and yanking her head from Sunny’s hot box. Sunny’s eyes popped open.

  “Let her finish . . . please,” Sunny slurred her body so hot with lust she felt like she’d explode.

  “Nah . . . you want it you work for it,” Faheem said cruelly, pulling his dick from Lucky’s anus. Lucky laughed and watched hungrily as Faheem put a line of heroin on is rock hard shaft. Faheem tempted Lucky with the heroin.

  “Ya see Lucky . . . she loving this dope dick. You . . . you’re a scared little gyal Sunny. Ya call yaself a woman? Nah . . . a woman knows how to take the dope dick, see,” Faheem teased Sunny, his words upper cutting her each time. A fiery ball of jealousy welled up inside of Sunny’s chest as she watched Lucky sniff the line of heroin off of Faheem’s dick.

  “Mmmm, shit . . . yeah,” Lucky moaned, falling down onto her back as the drugs took hold of her.

  “I love a woman who takes it like that,” Faheem said, moving between Lucky’s legs and thrusting himself into her with no mercy. Faheem moved in and out of Lucky like a jackhammer, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Sunny. He could see the mixture of lust, pain, jealousy and wanting on Sunny’s face. Faheem knew her so well, he figured it would just be a few more minutes before he’d have her exactly where he wanted her.

  Faheem thrust hard and harder and the more Lucky moaned in ecstasy the angrier Sunny got. Her drunkenness was fading and she wanted that feeling back. She needed to feel high to escape her realities. Faheem knew it too.

  “You want some of this dope dick? Huh? Or you gon’ keep turning me down. The dope makes it better . . . harder . . . slower . . .” Faheem teased, bending down and plunging his tongue deep into Lucky’s mouth as he continued to pump his hips into the girl’s small pelvis vigorously. “C’mon . . . stop being scared,” he urged, with Lucky’s saliva wetting his lips as he eyed Sunny. “Sunny is a little gyal. Scared of a little heroin. Scared of a real man’s dick,” Faheem pressed as he grinded farther and farther into Lucky.

  Sunny couldn’t take it any longer. She got up onto her knees and forcefully pushed Faheem away from Lucky. Faheem busted out laughing as he toppled over.

  “Give me some! Give me some now!” Sunny demanded. “I am not a little girl. I can handle it all. Stop playing with me before I fuck this bitch up!” Sunny screamed, her face turning deep red. Faheem laughed raucously as he was forced to pull himself out of Lucky’s insides.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Fight for this dick. Fight for the dope dick, baby,” he taunted, stroking his prize. “You’re finally growing up,” he said. He grabbed his heroin from the nightstand and did the same thing again, making a neat line on his rock hard meat. Sunny shot Lucky an evil look and without hesitation Sunny leaned down and snorted the heroin just like she’d seen Faheem do so many times.

  “Ahhh,” Sunny winced throwing her hands up to her face.

  “Pinch your nose. Pinch your nose,” Faheem shouted. “The first time it burns . . . but after that . . . shit this is the best feeling in the world,” he told Sunny.

  As soon as the drugs hit her central nervous system, Sunny fell back onto the bed and her eyes snapped shut involuntarily. Her ears were ringing with some sort of music and she felt like she was floating on air. Every worry or care or painful experience Sunny had ever had seemed to float away. She saw the faces of her mother, stepfather, and Sean floating in her head. Sunny couldn’t hear anything, but she felt damn good. Her eyes were closed tight, but not for long.

  “Aye, gyal . . . aye, gyal,” Faheem was yelling and slapping Sunny’s face roughly. He had interrupted the floating feeling and suddenly Sunny could tell she was just lying on his bed. She finally forced her eyes to flutter open and looked up at him.

  “Shit . . . I thought you had OD’d,” he huffed, a glimmer of terror creasing his face. “Didn’t I tell you that was some good shit,” Faheem said, his winning smile now painting his gorgeous face. Sunny smiled at him with her pointer finger at her lips seductively.

  “More . . . I want more,” Sunny groaned, a lazy grin contorting her face as she reached toward the nightstand where the drugs lay.

  It had been only been a month since Sunny snorted her first line of heroin and she couldn’t get enough now. Sunny was dependant on the drugs to function on a daily basis.

  Now she sat on the toilet seat in Faheem’s bathroom with one end of a belt tied around her arm and the other end between her teeth while she slapped the center of her arm vigorously searching for a ripe vein.

  Faheem had made the mistake of telling Sunny that if she shot the drugs directly into her arm it would get her high faster. The first time she tried it, Sunny had almost fainted when she hit the wrong area in her arm. She had missed the vein and caught muscle. The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt and Faheem had slapped Sunny across her face until her nose bled because she had wasted the drugs.

  Sunny hated that her veins took so long to find. If she trusted that Faheem wouldn’t take her hit away, she would’ve asked him for his help.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Sunny jumped, releasing the grip she had.

  “What?!” she screamed in response to Faheem banging like a madman on the locked door. “I’m coming!”

  “Fuck,” Sunny whispered harshly. “Now I’ll never find one.”

  Sunny sniffled back the snot threatening to leak from her nostrils. She was dope sick already and needed that hit more than anything.

  “It’s a party going on out here . . . our party so hurry the fuck up!” Faheem barked. Sunny could tell he was probably seconds from busting the door down. It was too late for her to sniff the heroin because she had already cooked it and got it ready for the needle. Sunny tied her arm again, this time her veins were a little more cooperative. She found one that plump and ready. She picked up the needle and with her hands shaking, she eased the drugs into her vein. Immediately her body relaxed against the toilet seat. The needle dropped from her slack hand and she slid down to the floor. Sunny felt at ease now, but she still couldn’t recapture the feeling from her very first high.

  “I’m not going to call you again!” Faheem screamed; this time he kicked the door in.

  Faheem practically dragged Sunny into his living room where the mixed crowd of strange and familiar partygoers were mingling. Loud reggae music blared from two huge black speakers set up in either corner of Faheem’s expansive living room. There was enough drugs and liquor spread out on side tables, the coffee table and even the mantle over the fireplace. Sunny was high, but she was aware of everything. There were men and women on couches, the floor, and the balcony all engaged in different sexual acts.

  Faheem had moved from selling weed to throwing what he called dutty wine parties. In Sunny’s assessment it was just another word for orgies. Sunny wasn’t a fan of the parties, but Faheem’s increasingly aggressive behavior toward her usually made her go along with it.

  “I got three people that want to meet you,” Faheem yelled over the music into Sunny’s ear as he pulled her along by the arm. Sunny groaned something, but when she saw all of the drugs that were laid out on the tables she quickly swallowed her words of protest back down her throat.

  “Dreads, mon . . . this is my gyal Sunny,” Faheem announced to three dreads who were standing around in his kitchen. “I told yuh she was a hot piece,” Faheem continued with his accent on thick as palmed a handful of Sunny’s ass.

  Sunny’s stomach flipped in her gut and she had to clutch the side of the kitchen counter to keep from falling down. One of the dudes with dreads smiled lustfully at her. “She like to party?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

  “Hell yeah,” Faheem said, nodding his head toward Sunny. Sunny couldn’t move at first, she stood there seemingly rooted to the floor. She shot him a dirty look and folded her arms over he
r chest. Sunny had been doing a lot of things she wasn’t proud of since she’d started getting high but this....

  “Don’t fuckin’ play around. I’ll put you on the streets,” Faheem whispered in her ear harshly. Then he pulled a packet out of his pocket and shook it in her face like he was dangling a carrot in front of horse to get it to move.

  Sunny followed Faheem and the drugs to the back. The stilettos he’d purchased for Sunny the day before were clicking against the tiles on the floor. The party dress she wore hugged her curves and as beautiful as she looked, she felt ugly.

  Sunny counted each step because each one got her closer and closer to another hit.

  The three dreads were laughing and speaking excitedly as they approached the bedroom.

  “Stay out here for a second, dreads. Let me get her ready,” Faheem told them, halting their steps. All three men watched Sunny like she was the last meal that they were about to devour.

  Faheem pushed Sunny into the bedroom. “It’s no big deal, gyal. I love you and I won’t let nothing happen that I don’t approve of,” he was saying as he immediately started preparing the heroin for Sunny.

  “I don’t want to sniff . . . I need to bang it,” Sunny groaned, throwing herself down on the bed.

  “Ya nah have no time for that. Sniff it,” Faheem replied through his teeth.

  “C’mon, Fah. It’ll be better for me,” Sunny pleaded, her legs swinging in and out anxiously. Faheem rushed over to her and pushed her forcefully back on the bed. He used one of his knees to force her legs apart, ripped the split on the side of the dress she was wearing and forced his rock hard dick into her dry vagina.

  “Ahhh,” Sunny cried out. “Please, Fah . . . I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she cried as he took her mercilessly. Faheem put his hand roughly over her mouth as he thrust into her with the force of a bulldozer.

  “I told you . . . you do what I say or you will suffer,” he growled in her ear. “Now, get up like a good girl. Sniff the line and fuck these dreads like you never fucked anyone. This is money,” Faheem huffed, fire flashing in his eyes. He quickly jumped up, pulled himself out of her and shot his load all over her face and chest.

  Sunny couldn’t even feel emotions anymore. She was numb. She used a Kleenex from the nightstand to wipe Faheem’s body fluid off of her. She got up, sniffed the line of heroin and fell back onto the bed. Sunny heard when the three dreads entered the room. She heard the excitement in their voices as they discussed who would put his dick in which opening on her body. She also heard her cell phone buzzing on the nightstand on the side of the bed she usually slept on. Suddenly Sean popped into her mind. He was the only person who would be calling her.

  As if she was possessed by some kind of sex demon, Sunny jumped up, smiling and laughing like a madwoman.

  “Let me suck your dick. And you . . . put that shit in my ass while your friend gets the pussy,” Sunny commanded like a pro. She pictured Sean’s face again, which seemed to anger and propel her further into the indecent acts with the strange men. Sunny felt like Sean had betrayed her. Yes, he had tried to call her a few times, but he had never come looking for her. Sunny had heard that Sean was on the serious come up in the streets, yet he had abandoned her. She was in so much pain and agony, yet her best friend who she loved like no other person had never come looking for her.

  “Bring in some girls, too,” Sunny moaned as one of the men plunged himself deep into her anus. In between acts, Sunny would stop, sniff a line of heroin and get right back into it.

  Within minutes Sunny and Faheem’s bedroom was the site of an all-out orgy. Sunny had almost every place on her body filled with a piece of a man. Then she would switch places and bury her face between a woman’s legs. Faheem was loving every minute of it. He had made a ton of money that night, with the secret promise that there would definitely be more parties with Sunny as the star.

  Chapter Eight

  Beans, Ty, Freddie, Bo and Ak sat outside of the spot they had watched the woman, who worked for a dude named BG, enter for the past month. They had it timed down to the minute and knew exactly where her security car was going to be and what it looked like, but so far, the spot and outside of it looked dead. They had been there over an hour and there had been no sign of the woman driving the Benz with license plates that read “BG.”

  “This bitch is late today,” Ty complained, looking down at his watch for the tenth time.

  “Word . . . all of these days and she ain’t never been late,” Freddie followed up.

  “Well we wait,” Beans said flatly. “We will not fuck this up under my watch. Sean is sick of waiting now so that’s that.”

  “Can we at least spark a L? I mean waiting in this car to snatch a bitch off the street and blast on her lame-ass security got a nigga needing something to take the edge off . . . feel me?” Ty asked and proclaimed all in one breath. Beans looked up into the rearview mirror and shot Ty a dirty look.

  “G’head, m’fucka, damn. You act like if you don’t get high for two hours your ass gon’ die. Weed fiend-ass nigga,” Beans snapped, shaking his head in disgust. He had to admit it though; sitting there waiting was nerve-wracking. In the weeks they had been watching BG’s woman, she wasn’t usually ever late. Suddenly an ominous feeling came over Beans. He looked up into the rearview mirror again and just as he did, he saw a heavily tinted Yukon Denali slowly creeping up on his Escalade. A bolt of fear struck Beans like lightning.

  “Yo, Bo . . . pull out! Pull out now!” Beans shouted to Bo who was driving. The nervous young boy threw the car into drive and pulled away from the curb as fast as his reflexes allowed. The tires squealed against the blacktop. Beans turned around in his seat and craned his neck to see if the Denali was still there.

  “What’s up, nigga? We ain’t waiting for her?” Ty asked, his eyes wide, his blunt gripped tightly between his fingers. Before Beans could answer Ty’s question.

  Tat! Tat! Tat! Tat! The sound of rapid gunfire and shattering glass cut through the Escalade.

  “Oh shit! Niggas firing on us!” Ty shouted, ducking down in his seat. Just then, more gunshots rang out.

  “Niggas bangin’ on us! Get y’all fuckin’ ratchets out!” Beans commanded, pulling his .40-caliber Glock from his waistband.

  “M’fuckas!!” he screamed, sticking his hand out of the passenger side front window and firing back at the Denali. The driver had been bold enough to pull right next to the Escalade now.

  “Yo, swerve over! Now!” Beans screamed at Bo. More deafening shots rang out. Two shots hit the side of the Denali as Ty, Freddie and Ak squeezed off freely.

  Bo was swerving the Escalade all over the road because his nerves were going haywire. Ak leaned up to scold the young boy, but right away he understood what was going on.

  “Yo, he’s hit! He’s hit! He can’t drive like that!” Ak yelled from the back seat. Beans couldn’t look over; he was too busy keeping the driver of the Denali at bay by firing shots straight for the driver’s side window.

  “Somebody gotta grab the wheel!” Beans screamed. “Yo, Bo keep ya foot on the gas, man!”

  Ak leapt over the seat and took hold of the Escalade’s steering wheel. Bo was breathing hard but he was able to keep his foot on the gas.

  “Yo, li’l nigga, just don’t stop hitting that m’fuckin’ gas or we are all dead,” Ak said, while he struggled to steer the truck. Just as the words Ak’s mouth, right next to them the Denali slammed into a lamppost on the street.

  “Pull over! Pull over! Yo! Pull the fuck over!” Beans screamed at Ak. “This shit ain’t over!”

  “Yo, nigga we a nigga hit. Fuck what they talking about . . . we can snatch the bitch another time. We need to take this nigga ’cross town before he bleed too much,” Ak screamed, noticing that Bo was slumped with blood seeping into the material of his shirt.

  “Nah. These niggas know what it is . . . they soldiers. Shit happens. We take care of it now. We ain’t gon’ get this chance again,” Beans said, gun in hand as
he slowly opened the Escalade door.

  “Fuck! This nigga here acting like he m’fuckin’ Superman,” Ty spat, grabbing the back door handle with one hand while keeping a tight grip on is Beretta with the other. “Stay here with Bo,” Ty told Ak. Ty and Freddie followed Beans out of the Escalade, all three approaching the Denali with guns leading.

  Beans would see that he had spilled the driver’s brains and the dude was hunched over the steering wheel. There was a dude in the front passenger seat rocking back and forth with blood all over the front of his shirt. Beans couldn’t see much of what was going on in the back because the vehicle was so heavily tinted. He hand signaled for Ty to walk around the other side and for Freddie to get low and go around the front. Ty to the other side of the Denali approaching from the back. Just as he made his way around the back bumper, he came eye to eye with the barrel of a cute little silver .22 revolver. Ty raised his gun to eye level as well.

  “Yo! Beans! I found her,” Ty called out, standing toe to toe with the beautiful woman they had been waiting to snatch. Ty and the woman were in a standoff, each pointing their guns in the other’s face. The scene was like something out of an old Western movie. Beans rushed around and was quickly taken aback. The woman was even more drop-dead gorgeous up close. Her coral-colored pantsuit had splashes of blood on the left side.

  “Tell him to drop that fuckin’ gun or we both just gon’ die,” the beautiful woman spat, her eyes squinted into dashes. Beans thought there was something extra sexy about her bravado.

  “Nah, ma . . . seems to me you the one that is outgunned right now,” Beans said, nodding. The woman felt the kiss of Freddie’s weapon on the back of her neck.

  “We just wanna talk to you. We ain’t about hurtin’ no bitch . . . feel me?” Beans negotiated further. The woman didn’t seem like she was budging.