Sanaa was well aware that he had no problem turning her club upside down, but at the same time she also knew that Boo would try to be diplomatic about the situation first, before it got to that level. He just went on and continued explaining to Sanaa how the money was made, and how it was able to go undetected.
“You see you got to get your paper from them sand niggas, the plates and ink from them Africans. They know how to make your shit legit.”
She still wasn’t quite convinced about the funny money because she still couldn’t see the flaws in the bills. She turned to Boo, her hand still on the butt of her gun, and pushed the twenty back to him. Boo sighed, and grabbed the club soda from the counter. He allowed a few drops to fall on the face of the twenty, after a few moments, the ink turned red, and began to run. Sanaa picked up the twenty, and placed it in the glass of water. Within minutes the water was red, and the paper only had the impressions of the symbols of the money.
“So now what?” Sanaa asked Boo as she picked up the dripping ink-stained money.
“Well, that’s up to you. I got loads of this shit and I can give it to you for cheap,” he replied, pouring himself another shot of Jack.
Sanaa looked over at Joi, who was still looking down at the money. She too couldn’t believe how real the money looked. Sanaa’s mind began to turn. Although she was doing okay with the bar and gambling spot, a come up like this could be life changing, and it didn’t come along often. However, at the same time, she didn’t trust Boo as far as she could see him, nor did she like his attitude most of the time. But this was business, and not personal, so she was keeping an open mind.
“So, what the prices for this shit look like?” Joi said, easing her hand off the butt of her gun.
Sanaa saw Joi’s question as a statement, letting her know that she was interested as well.
Atlanta
Doughboy pulled over, jumped out of his car, and ran into the corner store. It was pouring down raining outside, and it took a minute to get through the crowd of people taking refuge in the entrance of the store. Once at the counter, he ordered his three Dutches, a pack of Newports, and a bottle of Pepsi. He quickly paid for the items, and then made a break back to his car through the rain.
“What da fuck?” he mumbled to himself, looking over and seeing a car blocking him in.
A tap on the passenger side window caught his attention, instantly causing him to reach under his seat and grab his gun. He rolled the window down just far enough to see the pretty face of a woman looking right at him. The rain beaded off her face, and the sounds of cars honking in the background indicated that she was probably the driver of the vehicle.
“Can you help me push my car out of the street?” the young woman asked in the most innocent voice Doughboy had ever heard. “I’ll pay you if I got to,” she suggested.
“No problem,” he said, tucking his gun back under his seat.
As soon as he unlocked his door to get out of the car, the driver side door swung open. By the time Doughboy looked up, the chrome .380 was pointed directly in his face. The passenger side door opened, and into the car jumped the same pretty face that had been asking for his help. This time, she had a gun in her hand, and it too was pointed at Doughboy.
Once the female passenger had him at gunpoint, the driver side door closed, then the back driver side door opened. Another female jumped in the back and sat right behind Doughboy. It was total silence in the sedan, except for the sound of the raindrops falling on the outside of the car, sounding like steel drums being hit with each drop on the metal of the sedan. He looked into the rearview mirror at the assailant in the back seat, trying to figure out who was stupid enough to hold him at gunpoint in his own hood. Since it was two bitches, he had thoughts of reaching under his seat for his gun. He thought twice about that once he felt the barrel of the .380 pressed against the back of his neck through the headrest.
“What y’all bitches want?” Doughboy asked with an attitude, mad as hell that he had fallen for this bullshit setup.
“Where’s ya boss, Doughboy?” the woman in the back seat asked, pressing the gun farther against the back of his neck.
“What da fuck is you talkin’ about, and how da fuck do you know my name?” he asked, trying his best to remain gangsta.
What seemed like a long time ago for Doughboy only felt like yesterday to Ariana. She could vividly remember looking up at the ceiling in her hospital room, wondering if she was going to survive her wounds. “Sanaa,” Ariana snapped back. “Where da fuck is Sanaa and her no-good-ass friend, Joi?” she asked, moving her face over so that Doughboy could finally see who he was talking to.
When he locked eyes with the female through the rearview mirror, his eyes shot open wide like he had seen a ghost. He couldn’t believe that Ariana was sitting in his back seat. He knew her well, considering her relationship with Sleepy. He also knew that she was about her business when it came down to the gunplay. All that tough shit went flying out the window, and now he realized that this was a life or death situation, and he had better comply.
“I thought you was dead,” Doughboy said as he glanced at a few people running past his car.
“I did too. Now, where is she?” Ariana yelled through her clenched teeth.
Her patience was running low, and her girlfriend, Olivia, could see it. She reached over and jammed her gun into his crotch, causing Doughboy to tense up.
“Yo, Sanaa just up and rolled out. She didn’t tell me where she was going. She just said she had to get out of Atlanta. The police was on to her, and her name was coming up heavy on some federal indictments,” Doughboy reported.
Something was telling Ariana that Doughboy wasn’t telling her the truth about what he knew. He was hiding something and she could tell. She glanced over at Olivia, who then cocked the hammer back on the gun. She was just about to pull the trigger when Doughboy decided to talk. The last thing he wanted to do was lose his dick by way of a bullet. He’d rather take one to the head first.
“Man, look, the last time I heard, she moved up North. I don’t know where, but I think it might be Philly. She said she had family up there,” Doughboy explained.
“Was Joi wit’ her?” Ariana asked, jabbing the back of his head with her gun.
That was one question Doughboy really didn’t know the answer to, mainly because he didn’t know Joi. He wasn’t aware of the whole situation that had gone on between her and Sanaa, and the last and only thing that he could remember about her was that she had disappeared at the same time Sanaa did. To him, it was like one day Sanaa was there, and the next day, everybody was gone.
Ariana wanted both of their heads, and she wasn’t going to stop until she had them. Thoughts of the last meeting she had with Joi haunted her. It was that day that changed Ariana’s life forever. Just thinking about it made her furious, and it was unfortunate that Doughboy was on the other end of her gun as the horrible thoughts ran through her mind.
Ariana didn’t even realize that she’d pulled the trigger until she heard the loud sound of the bullet discharging from the gun’s chamber, and saw the blood from Doughboy’s neck splatter onto the front windshield. The bullet tore through his esophagus, causing blood to rush down his throat and into his lungs within seconds.
The initial shock of the gunshot subsided immediately, and instead of waiting for another bullet to hit his head, Doughboy reached for the door handle in an attempt to exit the car. He managed to get the door open, but that was about it. Olivia raised her gun to the back of his head and squeezed the trigger twice, putting two holes in his skull the size of a quarter.
His body fell into a puddle on the sidewalk as the rain continued to fall from the sky. The people who were in the store scattered like roaches, no longer caring about the nasty weather. They were trying to avoid two things that could get them killed: flying bullets and being a witness to a murder.
Ariana and Olivia hopped out of Doughboy’s car, pulled their hoods over their heads, then jumped into
the car that had blocked Doughboy in. They were on some gangsta shit, and Ariana was at the head.
Chapter 2
Royce pulled into the parking lot of Daisy’s Diner just in time. He took a few seconds to check himself out in the rearview mirror before making the phone call that prompted a beautiful white, five feet five inch, 135-pound blond-haired, blue-eyed French bombshell to exit the diner. She wore a knee-length floral sundress, a pair of Bernardo leather sandals, and Gucci oversized square-frame sunglasses. Her curly blond hair was wrapped in a bun, and for a moment, it seemed the sun had dipped behind a cloud just to give her some time to shine.
Respectfully, Royce got out of the car, walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle, and opened the door for her as she made her way to the awaiting chariot. She clutched a large Diane Von Furstenberg tote as she climbed into the car, making herself comfortable for the long ride to the other side of town. Royce’s dick got hard just thinking about what was about to go down. It was a long time coming, and despite the fact that he’d been lying to Krystol about going to work every day, looking over at Danielle made him look past his deceit.
“So where are you taking me today?” Royce asked, focusing on the road ahead of him. “You know I’m supposed to be working with my sister today,” he joked, thinking about Krystol.
“Not far at all,” Danielle responded with a devious grin on her face. “You know you can’t keep lying to that girl. Eventually, you’re gonna have to tell her,” she encouraged him.
“Yeah, well I’ll do that when the time is right. I don’t think now is a good time,” Royce shot back.
“It will never be a good time, especially doing the kind of things we do.” She giggled.
“How about we change the topic?” Royce suggested, trying to avoid the guilt.
Danielle wasn’t about to let up on him. She wanted to be sure that Royce was going to be in it for the long haul. She was investing a lot of time into Royce, along with her trust that he wouldn’t disappoint her. She liked Royce, and could see potential in him, but if he couldn’t be truthful with his girlfriend about what was going on, there was no way Danielle could move forward in their relationship. She knew he had a goal of reaching millionaire status, and she had a plan to get both of them there. But she also knew that he couldn’t have any distractions, and an unhappy home was one that could derail them both.
“So, where are we going?” he asked again, still not sure of the destination.
“It’s our first time doing something on this level, so I want it to be special. You just make sure that when we get there, you put it down like you’re supposed to,” she responded in a seductive manner.
Before he knew it, they were pulling into the Four Seasons hotel parking lot. Danielle jumped out, followed by Royce, and the couple walked hand in hand toward the entrance. Royce threw on a pair of Raf Simons aviator sunglasses, trying to be as incognito as possible in case he ran into someone he knew.
Once at the front desk, the clerk already had the room key waiting and passed it off to Danielle without saying a word. Royce wrapped his arms around her waist and walked behind her, in sync with every step she took toward the elevator.
The hotel had thirty floors, but Danielle and Royce were only going to the fourteenth: room 1417, east wing, to be exact. Royce stopped Danielle in the middle of the hallway, pressing her back against the wall. He had to admit to himself that she was indeed a ray of sunshine. He leaned in to hug her, resting his chin on her shoulder, and at the same time, looking up at the single security camera. His heart was racing uncontrollably, and had been ever since they pulled into the parking lot, due to the fact that Danielle had briefed him on what was about to go down.
“You ready?” she asked, wrapping her arms around Royce’s neck, and at the same time glancing up at the camera.
As soon as the little red light on the side of the camera switched off, Danielle pushed Royce back, reached under her sundress, grabbed a ten-shot 9 mm, and screwed the silencer on to it quickly. Royce did the same, reaching around and grabbing a seventeen-shot Glock from his back waistline. He screwed his silencer on as they both made their way down the hallway to room 1417. Danielle placed her tote bag on the side of the door, wanting all her limbs free to react to whatever was inside the room.
She passed Royce the keycard to open the door, and with one swipe of it, the door was unlocked. There was no time to waste, so as soon as the green light flicked on, Royce was through the door firing at the first body he saw, which was an armed man standing by the window off to the left.
Danielle was right behind him, letting several shots fly into the two men sitting at a table putting money through the money machines. She didn’t hesitate to hit both men from the neck up.
So focused on her targets, Danielle didn’t see one of the men racing across the room in an attempt to tackle her, but before he could reach her, Royce shot him in his chest. His body fell right in at Danielle’s feet.
Royce quickly moved across the hotel room, checking every door, until he was satisfied that there were no more physical threats. Off the break, Royce noticed the large amount of cocaine sitting on the bed, packaged in brick form.
Danielle walked out into the hallway and retrieved her tote bag. She pulled out another trash bag from it and threw it to Royce. “We’re only taking the money,” Danielle instructed, walking over to the table where the cash was.
“Are you sure?” Royce asked, nodding at the cocaine on the bed.
“Yeah, that coke belongs to somebody else. We are only here for the money,” she said, bagging up the cash from the table.
Royce didn’t even think twice about it. He walked over to the table and helped Danielle bag the currency. This was Danielle’s lick, and Royce was just along for the ride. It was a good lick, too. Five hundred grand was the total take, but Royce only saw two hundred grand of that. The lick didn’t come for free, so Danielle had to pay $100,000 and the dope, which left her with two hundred grand herself. She had to pay off a few different people who helped put it together. That was just the nature of the business she was in, and for a female, she did it damn well.
They both walked out of the hotel heavier than what they were when they first walked in. A simple wink of the eye told the hotel clerk that he could go and collect his cocaine. That’s where his cut, along with the head of security’s cut, came from. Today was the day everybody got paid.
Sleepy walked into the club with a Louis Vuitton leather bag containing twenty-five grand, which was being used to purchase some of Boo’s funny money. One hundred grand of fake money for twenty-five grand in real money was hard to pass up, especially seeing how good the money looked. Although Sleepy wasn’t completely sold on this funny money idea, he was going to ride with his sister. Besides, he needed something to take his mind off his constant obsessing about Ariana. Everyone seemed to think that she had just taken off, but he knew better. Their love was real, and she wouldn’t just bounce on him. As soon as he was able, he was going back to Atlanta to find his woman.
Sanaa had thought it over, and being one who was always down for a fast come up, she decided not to pass this by. She made a mental note to call up her other brother, Royce, and get him on board. Although none of the siblings shared the same mother, Balil had made sure they came up as tight as any brothers and sisters raised under the same roof. Whenever it was time for some real shit to go down, Sanaa made sure she had family around. Her two brothers were known killers, and that helped when doing business on the streets.
“Ya money,” Sanaa said, walking over to the table and placing the bag right next to Boo’s plate of Buffalo wings.
Boo didn’t skip a beat while eating his food. He just looked at the bag and smiled as he continued to chew the mouthful of chicken. Ranch and bleu cheese dressing were all over his hands and face. It got to the point where he had to release his top button.
“Sit down. I wanna talk to you about something,” Boo requested, pointing at the chair
across from him with a chicken bone.
“No, I’ll stand,” Sanaa shot back. “And I really don’t think we have anything else to talk about.”
“Look, I apologized about ya girlfriend a long time ago. Now sit down, I have something I wanna talk to you about,” Boo insisted in a more serious tone.
It was quiet for a moment, but Sanaa eventually pulled out the chair and took a seat, only willing to hear what he had to say so that he could hurry up and leave.
Boo nodded for his boys to back away from the table so that he could talk to her in private. It was obvious that Sleepy wasn’t invited to the conversation, and from the look on his face, he felt some type of way.
“It’s cool,” Sanaa told Sleepy, nodding for him to back away from the table.
Boo grabbed the Louis Vuitton bag and emptied the money out on the table. He took his orange soda and poured it over a few of the bills. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting any fake money in return.
Sanaa scooted up in her chair and took a good look at him. She could tell that Boo had something on his mind, and because she had history with him, she knew it was some type of scheme boiling in his head. “What do you want, Boo?” Sanaa asked, wanting him to get straight to the point.
“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m hungry. I’m tryin’a eat,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Sleepy, who kept his eyes on him.
“Again, get to the point, Boo,” she said, cutting him off.
“I wanna move five million in counterfeit money through ya club. I got everything from one dollar bills to one-hundred dollar bills,” he said, hoping to get her attention.
Sanaa’s attention was in his grasp. She looked at him like he had lost his mind. Moving $5 million of funny money through her spot was out of the question, and that was something Sanaa didn’t have to think about. “What makes you think I’ma move five million dollars of ya funny money in my place?” Sanaa shot back.
Girls From Da Hood 10 Page 12
