Danielle took off running toward Royce’s car. He hadn’t planned on saving Danielle, but she could be useful in recouping the money he had just lost.
Danielle jumped in the passenger side while Royce gently placed Sanaa in the back seat. The rest of his crew got into the minivan that was parked behind Royce’s car. He looked back at Sanaa has he was pulling out onto the main street. She was beaten up pretty badly, but he knew that the blood that ran through her veins was strong. They shared the strength of their father’s DNA so he knew that she would be okay in the long run.
He reached in his pocket and pressed the contact labeled wifey. Krystol answered in a soft tone, having just laid Raven down for her afternoon nap.
“Hey, baby, what’s going on?” she whispered.
“Yo, Krys, I need you to pack a small bag for you and the baby, and be ready to go. I should be there in about thirty minutes.” Royce spoke with distress in his voice. Krystol recognize the stress in his voice and could tell something was wrong. But she didn’t question him knowing that now wasn’t the time. They had been in situations like this before and she understood that time was generally of the essence.
Royce hung up and quickly scrolled down to Sleepy’s name. He had tried him a few times on his way to Kemo’s house and didn’t get an answer. The phone rang five times before going to voicemail again. Royce hated to leave town before speaking with his brother but he knew Sleepy was a big boy and could handle himself. His main concern at the moment was taking care of Sanaa.
Thirty minutes later he pulled up to the house. Krystol was peeking out the window and immediately went and grabbed baby Raven. As she was heading out the door Royce was coming inside.
“Where’re the bags at?” he asked.
Krystol pointed to the side of the couch nearest the door. He went and scooped them up in one swift motion. Heading out the door he turned, making sure that the door was locked and the alarm had been set. He wasn’t sure when they would be back, but he knew they surely would. Philly was their home and it would take more than a street hustler and the Feds to keep them away. Royce knew that the minute Sanaa was healthy enough they would be returning. But for now it was time that the family regrouped and gave the City of Brotherly Love some distance.
Sleepy and Ariana waited for the deputy to buzz them out the intake center door of the police station. Detective Butler had decided to release them, knowing that he wasn’t going to get any info from either.
“So, you think he’s gonna contact his sister,” Detective Butler asked watching both as they exited the building.
Special Agent Razor stood next to Butler. “One thing I know about this family is that no matter what, and how much they go through, they will never be able to separate. The bond that they have is too strong and their ability to adapt in any environment makes our jobs even harder. We might not never see them again,” Razor said.
“So now what?” Detective Butler asked, wondering what the next move was going to be.
Razor knew from experience that the chance of catching Sanaa right now was slim to none. He wasn’t even about to waste any more time or manpower chasing after her. More than likely she was hundreds of miles away, on her way to God knows where.
“Now, I go back to Atlanta and you, my friend, try to get some rest. They’ll open up shop in another city eventually, and when they do we’ll get our chance again,” Razor said before walking off.
About the Author
Blake Karrington is more than an author. He’s a storyteller who places his readers in action-filled moments. It’s in these creative spaces that readers are allowed to get to know his complex characters as if they’re really alive.
Most of Blake’s titles are centered in the South, in urban settings, that are often overlooked by the mainstream. But through Blake’s eyes, readers quickly learn that places like Charlotte, NC can be as gritty as they come. It’s in these streets of this oft overlooked world where Blake portrays murderers and thieves alike as believable characters. Without judgment, he weaves humanizing back stories that serve up compelling reasons for why a drug dealer might choose a life of crime.
Readers of his work speak of the roller coaster ride of emotions that ensues from feeling anger at empathetic characters who always seem to do the wrong thing at the right time, to keep the story moving forward.
In terms of setting, Blake’s stories introduce his readers to spaces they may or may not be used to: streetscapes with unkempt, cracked sidewalks where poverty prevails, times are depressed and people are broke and desperate. In Blake storytelling space, morality is so curved that rooting for bad guys to get away with murder can sometimes seem like the right thing for the reader to do, even when it’s not.
Readers who connect with Blake find him to be relatable. Likening him to a bad boy gone good, they see a storyteller who writes as if he’s lived in the worlds he generously shares, readily conveying his message that humanity is everywhere, especially in the unlikely, mean streets of cities like Charlotte.
Contact
Facebook: Blake Karrington
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Twitter: @theblakekarrington
E-mail: [email protected]
Sack Chasing Star by T.C. Littles
Chapter 1
“Hey, girl, you hear me honking this motherfucking horn. Get your thirsty ass over here,” an untrained Rello yelled out the driver’s seat of a canary yellow Dodge Challenger at LaStar. Floss faking in his uncle’s custom whip, he checked the young girl’s ghetto swag out with deceitful intentions. Damn, those thick chocolate thighs looking tasty and delicious. I know it won’t take much to impress her to get up in between them.
“I’m coming damn,” Star snapped at him, slamming the black rat tail comb she was doing hair with down onto the porch. “My bad, Tanisha, give me a second to see what’s the word with him and I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t be all day, girl. I’m trying to get my hair braided up so I can pull me a few ballers too.” Tanisha pointed out the undone sections of her hair.
“Yeah, whatever. I got you so quit being a hater.” Nonchalantly waving Tanisha off, Star strutted with a ghetto booty switch toward what she assumed was Rello’s car. Tanisha’s words went in one ear and out the other as she focused in on the most recent dude on her roster.
How dare he show up embarrassing me in front of the whole neighborhood? The first thing he’s about to do is explain why he played me last night. He’s about to get straight clowned. Lying to herself, everything in Star’s immature mind made her think she was about to work Rello more than he was already working her.
“What’s up? Why am I just hearing from you? Did you have amnesia last night that we were supposed to hook up?” Leaning into the passenger window, Star gave Rello a taste of her raw urban attitude.
“Don’t start running your mouth recklessly, ma. Just get in.” He threw the car into drive.
“Boy, stop it. You had your chance last night and no one plays a star,” she said sarcastically, and shifted her pudgy weight while rolling her cheap makeup-packed eyes.
“Look, it was business in the streets with my name on it. I couldn’t be stashed somewhere hugged up with you missing my money,” he lied through his teeth.
Tapping his fingers onto the steering wheel, Rello knew Star’s money-wandering eyes had zoned in on the bling and shine of his ticking Rolex.
“Wow, that’s a nice-ass watch. I see you out here doing it big.” Star fed into Rello’s hallucination of having a flashy boss calling card. Little did she know, he’d spent a long hard hour scanning the gas stations’ $39.99 cubic zirconia bezel imitation Rolexes for the perfect Presidential-style knockoff.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, girl. It’s nothing but boss things like this all day.” Rello’s words were as bogus as his watch was; but Star was naïve enough to believe it all.
“Did that business bring you closer to getting me those sneakers I asked you for last week? It’s
about time I get out here flossing too.” Star was thirsty in the worst way, checking for any dude in Detroit willing to upgrade her low-level status.
“You’ll never know if you keep running your mouth. So quit wasting time and get in the car.” Rello smirked, patting his half-empty pockets insinuating her wishes were deep in them. “You got me fucked up if you think I’m about to keep sitting here playing fifty questions. I’m a busy man, Star.”
“I’m not getting in for nothing, Rello.” Star pouted her lips.
“If I ask again then I’m pulling off on your dusty, begging ass.” Having a lot of nerve to call someone out, he jerked the gearshift into drive basically giving Star an ultimatum with zero time to decide.
Star was a true product of her society: a struggling teen trying to make it in the gritty streets of east Detroit. Whenever there was money on the table, Star was on cleanup duty. She didn’t care how men treated her or talked down about her hood-like ways. Having a tarnished reputation wasn’t a worry or concern for her. The game was called sack chasing and by nature, Star was knee deep in winning.
“I’ll be right back, Tanisha,” she called out to her friend while climbing into the car. “You better be giving me some money for those sneakers, Rello.” She slammed the car door. Star was playing the role of ghetto girl for him to see but was smiling inside. She saw the envy in Tanisha’s eyes and loved it.
“Chill your hype ass out,” he silenced her, turning the radio up on blast.
Star thought about giving him a quick comeback but decided against it after looking him up and down. Being trained by the grittiest ho in the game, she knew not to ruin a good thing before benefiting. Oh yeah, bitch, keep calm; this just might be the one. At least get ya money up. Getting comfortable in the buttery soft leather bucket seat, Star was impressed with everything about Rello. Her mind was dizzy thinking she’d landed her a true player in the game. Unbeknownst to her, not only the car but his entire wardrobe was his uncle’s.
The neighborhood was flooded with cliques listening to music, drinking, gambling, and enjoying the daytime hours before ricocheting bullets were bound to fly. Every small-time gang, wannabe dough boy, and young hustler with no reference was posted up on the block getting money or plotting to take someone else’s.
Rello loved to stunt and have people turning heads at his arrival. Having studied his uncle’s swag many times from the same passenger seat Star was sitting in, he imitated his style, rubbing his neatly trimmed charcoal black goatee with one hand while gripping the steering wheel with the other. Every few seconds he’d glance over at Star feeling his cockiness rise. Yeah, I’ve got her ass right where I want her. I’m glad I swerved up on her two weeks ago at the bus stop. She’s eating me and this car up.
Star reveled in the limelight riding shotgun in the flashy whip. Coming up, she’d only seen nice cars speeding up and down the block or doing donuts at the infamous neighborhood car races. This wasn’t something she was accustomed to on a daily, normally approached by local supermarket bag boys or book bag–carrying schoolboys who couldn’t do nothing for her hungry pockets. Star was hoping Rello turned out to be more beneficial to her than the typical bums who gave her overly developed body attention.
Each street they rode down through the east side of Detroit turning heads and bending corners, Rello thought about how he could get young Star to give into his manly needs without him paying out the duffel bag in the back seat. Knowing the few crumbled-up five dollar bills in his pocket weren’t nearly enough for the sneakers he’d promised her, he played the role like a boss refusing to admit his shortcomings. Damn my uncle needs to put me on so I can stop being on this fronting shit.
His time was running short. Not only had the gas light just come on, but his uncle Banko was texting asking about his whereabouts. Pulling into the parking lot of a half-abandoned apartment building, he turned the ignition off then pulled out the tightly packed joint of Kush.
“Why are we here? What’s this all about?” Star asked, sucking her teeth.
“Chill out, baby. Hit this.” He passed her the joint after taking the two long puffs. “I’m trying to see what you’re working with.” Licking his lips hoping she’d read into his innuendo, he wanted this hood legend licker badly. Light skin with braids, baby face, and hazel-brown eyes, Rello chose to use his pretty boy looks to his advantage.
What attracted Star, however, was the smell of money underneath her nose every time he came around.
“Oh it’s like that? So what you talking?” Star wasn’t a stranger to earning her keep or making her change. In today’s world, it is what it is and you better get it how you can.
“Just a little lip action, baby.” Rello rubbed on his growing cock, shifting so it could pop out, fully standing at her attention. “You got me?” he asked, realizing the young girl was all in.
“You should’ve been said that, Rello. It would’ve saved me from thinking you weren’t like the others.” She sunk back into the seat realizing this was just another day in her scummy lifestyle filled with the same bullshit. “Show me the money. You know how this goes.” Star had been down this path before and the least Rello could do was prove he was worth her spit.
“Damn, it’s like that? I’ve gotta pay my girl for some head? You tripping.” A played-out Rello tried blocking Star from getting her deserved cash.
“Then that’s even more reason why you should be giving me the cash: ’cause I’m your girl.” A fast-thinking Star wasn’t getting sidetracked. “So let me see the dollars, nigga.” Star was persistent. If he set her up swell, no doubt in her mind she’d be checking for the role of wifey. She wanted to see how much Rello was really working with in addition to what he was willing to offer.
Damn, I can’t show this chick how low balling I really am. I’m just gonna run Banko a lie about why the count is coming up short. Feeling backed into a wall, Rello hesitantly reached into the back seat unzipping the duffel bag of rubber-banded cash.
Star’s eyes lit up like a kid in a toy store at the uncountable amount of loot. Energy surged through her body making her jump to grab Rello’s exposed member. Sliding her smooth palm up and down his shaft, she was eager to lick her way to the jackpot. Not knowing he was just a small-time errand boy, Star was geared up for the greatest slob job in history.
Seeing the thirst in her eyes, recognizing it many times across the faces of his uncle’s plethora of glamorous women, Rello tightly held the banded stack of twenty-dollar bills totaling $500 and slid them across her jaw line. “Make it good, ma, and I’ve got you.”
Not wasting another moment of time, she obliged, swooping her hair to the back and bent over into his lap. Once he felt her big wet lips across the tip of his dick, Rello settled into the bucket seat himself, knowing the blue pill he’d swallowed right before picking her up would have Star bobbing down to his balls for a while.
Star effortlessly gulped his dick down. Not because she was a pro at slob knobbing but because Rello wasn’t king long dong ding-a-ling. Not caring about his shortcomings or the fact he could barely touch her throat, Star made him jerk with each pull and tongue tickle on his balls. Rello was falling in love with her young mouth, knowing the ringing rumors of the hood were true. She was in fact a hood licking legend.
Lost in the moment, Rello gripped the back of her head relentlessly forcing Star down until the tip of her nose tickled his public hair. She fought back gagging at the disgusting mildew with the thoughts of dollar signs. Fifteen minutes of spit gushing dick sucking, Rello finally let a long, thick stream of semen release into her throat. Star had tasted better and sucked bigger; but had gotten paid way less.
“I ain’t never been with no nigga who went that long.” Star juiced Rello’s head up wiping the excess nut from around her mouth. If he can swipe the insides of my mouth for what seemed like an eternity, ain’t no telling what damage he can do to this aching vagina. Sucking dick always made her horny.
“I’m that real deal nigga out here, b
aby. You fucking with the right one.” He watched her eyes scan down to his still rock-hard, throbbing penis. Quickly pulling his too big, hand-me-down Levis jeans back together and zipped, he hoped she hadn’t peeped the true sign of an ecstasy popper.
“Show me then.” Star put her hand out begging for the dinero she’d swallowed a mouthful for. “And you can take me to the mall to cop those joints, too,” she said, batting her fake eyelashes in an effort to win him over. By no means did she want to hop on the bus after riding shotgun with him. Chicks would drop dead of envy no doubt if I hopped out this fly car with bags in hand.
“I can’t even fucks with you like that right now, ma. My manz been blowing me up since I swooped up on you at your house.” He checked his phone’s missed calls and messages from Banko. “We’ve gotta link up on this business tip but I had to squeeze in some time to cake with your fine ass.” It was true that Banko was blowing him up but other than that he was keeping Star spent on stories. Lucky for him she was easily blinded and persuaded.
“Oh okay, that’s what’s up, big fella. I see you’re out here making big things happen.” She pointed toward the back seat, never taking her hand out from its begging position. “You can run my money and I’ll be up out your hair. Besides, ol’ girl is on my porch with a half head of braids. I can get my shoes after I get done with that.”
Rello knew he couldn’t back down on his word to Star. She’d seen the pickup money, ridden shotgun in the custom ride, and heard him boast about getting bread in the streets. If he reneged on his promise, she’d without a doubt clown him throughout the hood ruining his already suspicious reputation. Handing her the stack of twenty-dollar bills, he regretted even promising her more than the few Abe Lincolns to his name. Once again his high hopes of being a paid hustler had overstepped his reality of only being a leech and a liar.
“Thanks, boo.” Star pocketed it fast seeing the regret in his eyes. Before he could contest the amount he’d given her, she moved in for the kill by throwing sex his way. “So, are you trying to work me out tonight or what?”
Girls From Da Hood 10 Page 27
