“No … It feels good, baby. Mmm …”
I grabbed her ankles and went deep. As I long stroked those sweet walls, she stared up at me in awe.
“Ohhh … shit … ,” she whispered. Baby girl started pulling back, but I held on to that ass.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere. Gimme that pussy. Damn, Ma.”
I didn’t beat it up, but I ground up in that pussy with those long, deep strokes. She threw that shit right back at me, like she was saying, “Nigga, what?” She’d been running from it at first, but then she made a comeback. By the end of the first round, though, I had her when I flipped her over on her stomach.
“Put that ass up in the air,” I demanded, then slapped those cheeks and went back in.
“Oh, shit!” she screamed as I climbed all up in those guts from the back. “Damn, Pistol! Ahhh … fuck!”
A nigga was standing up in that shit, trying hard not to bust. My balls were tingling, and her pussy kept right on squeezing the hell out of my dick. Not only that, but the wet sounds were so loud. Then add the fact that her thick ass looked so good as it bounced and jiggled while my dick moved in and out of her fat pussy. My eyes stayed on that shit as she wound her waist and twerked that ass. I watched in amazement as her glistening pussy lips gripped the shit out of my dick.
My hands were all over her ass cheeks, caressing and massaging. My nut was rising, and I tried to defy it, but I couldn’t.
“I’m cumin’!” she yelled, to my relief. “Fuck … Pistol! Ahhh, mmm. Yes! Oh my God! You workin’ that good-ass dick, nigga! Damn!”
That pussy opened up even more, and I slid even deeper inside, causing my nut to rise quicker than I had thought it would. Her strong-ass pussy muscles were milking my shit, and I was holding on to her waist for dear life.
“Argh … fuck! Damn, Ma. Uhhh … shit!” My body trembled and jerked as her muscles continued to massage my shit.
Smaller tingles continued to rise to the head of my dick, and it was like I was still nutting. Damn, that shit was fucking stupendous. Shit. I slowly pulled out, and it was like her pussy didn’t want to let me go. That tight shit was still clasping my dick and made a popping noise once my dick head was out. I wanted to sleep in it, but I had to throw away the condom. We weren’t quite at that level yet.
“That was so fuckin’ good … ,” she said. Her breathing was all hard as she turned over on her back.
“Damn. That was better than good, Ma.” I stood up, and my knees were weak as hell.
“I need to change your gauze again. All that work made you bleed through.”
She followed me to the bathroom and cleaned my wound. The delicate way she took care of me was so nurturing, and it made me think of how my mom was when I was a kid. Once she was done, I turned around and we kissed.
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever kissed like that,” I told her when we finally came up for air.
“Like what? For a long time or …”
“Tongue. I never tongue kissed before you,” I confessed.
She looked at me like she didn’t believe it. “Yeah, right. You’re too damn good at that shit.” Her expression changed once she saw the look in my eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Dead ass,” I confirmed. “I told you. You just do something to me.”
“Damn. I must bring out the best in you, ’cause all these firsts of yours are very impressive.”
I pulled her naked frame to me and squeezed those fat ass cheeks. “I love this fat li’l ass of yours. You are so fuckin’ sexy.” It was like I couldn’t help just squeezing her tight.
Damn it. It was clear that I was falling in love with Daisha. The feeling was so foreign that I didn’t recognize it at all. It had to be that, because the nut was over, but I still wanted her around. I never wanted a day to go by that I didn’t see her face. I inhaled the sweet scent of her hair again.
“You ready for round two?” I grinned down at her, and she shook her head.
*
“Pistol! Wake yo’ ass up!”
I woke up to Daisha standing over me. When my eyes focused on her good, I noticed that she was holding my cell phone in her hand.
“What? What you doin’ wit’ my phone, yo?” I knew that she could be a little emotionally unstable, but was she on some crazy shit? “You goin’ through my phone?”
She turned on the lamp on the nightstand and rolled her eyes. “No, I wasn’t goin’ through your phone. That shit wouldn’t stop ringin’ and vibratin’ and shit. I’d grabbed it to give it to you, and a text from some bitch named Kendra popped up on the screen. She wants you to come over and pick up where you two left off the other night, ’cause she got a babysitter tonight. Are you fuckin’ her? ’Cause I ain’t got time for this shit. I just killed one bitch and—”
“It ain’t what you think it is, Daisha.” I sighed as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
“What the fuck is it, then? You were clearly just fuckin’ some bitch, and you fucked me, what? A day after that?”
“Look, it was the night after that shit popped off wit’ you and old boy. It was before I thought there would be anything between us. You ran off on me, remember? I had met Kendra ’bout two weeks ago, and it was supposed to just be a fuck thing. She was suckin’ my dick and shit when her baby started cryin’. I left, and that was the last time I saw her or talked to her. We didn’t fuck, and now that me and you are doin’ our thing, I ain’t tryin’a fuck her. Calm down. Shit. It’s four in the mornin’.”
“That’s my point. The ho’s been blowin’ your phone up since three. You need to let her know that you ain’t interested no more. I ain’t got time for no more drama than we’re already dealin’ with. For real.”
She was looking at me like she meant business, and so I did what she asked. It wasn’t like I was trying to play her. Honestly, I had never expected Kendra to try to contact me again after that night. I started to send her a text, but Daisha shook her head.
“Nope. Call that bitch. She needs to hear your voice,” she demanded, with her hands on her hips.
I pressed the button to call Kendra and didn’t have to wait long for her to answer. She must’ve been anxious to taste this dick again. The thought almost made me smile, but I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to get on bae’s bad side. She seemed to be a little bit feisty at times, and I didn’t want her to punish me by taking that good pussy away from a nigga. Fuck Kendra.
“So, you comin’ over or what?” Kendra asked, popping some gum all loud in my ear.
Who chewed gum at four in the morning? Only some thot-ass bitch who was up trying to find some dick because she finally had a babysitter. Knowing her, she got some random person to watch her child just so we could finish our fuck session. What she didn’t realize was, I didn’t tell her that shit would be continued. I was done with it.
“Nah yo. I’m gon’ keep it straight up wit’ you, shawty. What we did was what we did, and that’s it. It’s over wit’. To be honest wit’ you, I’m wit’ somebody, and we tryin’a work on something. You should focus on your shawty and shit. Ain’t no need to check for me no mo’.”
“Nigga, fuck you! You just one dick in my call log. As far as my shawty’s concerned, don’t worry ’bout her. She’s well taken care of!” With that said, she hung up in my ear.
I almost laughed out loud at her ignorant-sounding ass, but all I did was shake my head. Daisha sat down beside me on the bed and kissed me softly on the cheek.
“Sorry to wake you up wit’ the bullshit. Seein’ some bitch send you some shit like that just fired me up. I got something I really need to tell you. Uh, Kevia called me and filled me in on something when you were asleep.”
I looked at her and covered my mouth as I yawned. “What’s goin’ on now?”
“The police got Rae. They think he killed Capri.”
“Ah shit. Yeah, her baby daddy would be the first suspect. They ain’t got shit on him, though, so they can’t hold him. It’ll buy me some time, though.”
/> “Yeah, ’cause Kevia said he was wit’ her boyfriend during the time of the murder, so he got an alibi. He’ll be out soon. Hopefully, you’ll have time to come up wit’ some other strategy other than goin’ to Bankhead to go after him.”
“Oh, I’m gon’ come up wit’ something. I just hope they release that nigga.”
Shit. I didn’t know anybody in Atlanta other than my cousins and the dope boys who trapped with them. Maybe, just maybe, I could get some inside information on Rae and how the Bankhead Mob moved without raising any suspicions. Then, by the time the police let him go, I’d be there waiting to dead his bitch ass.
*
“Mario. Just the nigga I was hopin’ I’d see,” I called through my car window.
That tall, lanky, dark-skinned nigga walked over to my car and pounded me up. I was purposely avoiding my cousins, although I was on the block, looking for this nigga. He was Mike’s right-hand and was obviously just refreshing a few of the corner boys’ product.
“My nigga Pistol. What’s good, man? You look high as fuck!” He laughed and then checked something on his cell phone.
“Life is good, man, and I am high as fuck. There ain’t no other way to be. You know I ain’t from round here, but I’m tryin’a be on some moneymakin’ shit. I gotta know what moves to make. My cousins were tellin’ me ’bout this nigga Rae who fucks wit’ the Bankhead Mob and shit. Now, I don’t fuck wit’ dope, but I wanna come up on a nice li’l lick. If you help me wit’ some intel on that nigga, I’ll be glad to give you a cut. I mean, I know you be in the streets more than Mike and Dank, so you’ll know more.”
See, I was looking for Mario because that nigga had diarrhea of the mouth. He didn’t know how to hold shit in and was always ready to prove that he knew something that you didn’t. Niggas like him were the worst niggas to have in your crew. They’d do and say anything, and it wasn’t just for the money. It was because running their mouths like a bitch made them feel important.
That nigga leaned into my car as he looked around. Then, his voice lowered, he said, “Shit. Your cousins would know more than me. They fuck wit’ that nigga Rae when it come to they coke supply. You didn’t know they killed that nigga G for Rae? He was the leader of the Bankhead Mob and shit.”
What the fuck? Did that nigga just say what the fuck I thought he said?
“What, my nigga?” I said.
“Rae approached them niggas and told them that he wanted to take over the Bankhead Mob, but he needed somebody to kill G for him. He knew that Mike and that nigga G had beef. Of course, Rae couldn’t do it himself, ’cause then he’d look like a traitor. Which the fuck he is. Mike and Dank was down to do it ’cause Rae promised he’d let them have some of the Bankhead Mob’s territory. Not only that, but he paid them niggas top dollar to do the hit. Them niggas gon’ double they profit now ’cause Rae ’bout to be on top. Well, if he don’t go to the pen for killin’ that bitch. Mike just said this mornin’ that if that nigga go to prison for that shit, he gon’ try to take over Bankhead his damn self.”
Steam was coming out of my ears, and my blood was so hot, it felt like acid was running through my veins. So, my own cousins had played me. They didn’t want to include me in their moneymaking scheme. I guessed they didn’t want to have to split that shit three ways. That nigga G had never touched Mike’s daughter. Why the fuck had he lied to me, and why such a twisted-ass lie at that? I guessed that nigga knew that I’d keep that shit under wraps because it was such a delicate subject. Maybe he knew that was the way to get me to do his dirty work. So, Mike and Dank didn’t think they could just tell me the truth about the hit. Then they had the nerve to take the credit for it around Mario. Them niggas didn’t want to give me any of the money for the hit. Those fuck niggas.
Then that nigga Rae had just sat there in the car at the cemetery, like he didn’t know what was about to go down with his cousin. All those niggas were disloyal-ass traitors. The niggas I’d grown up with had fucked me in the ass raw, with no K-Y Jelly. It felt like that shit with Flex was happening to me all over again. Shit, I was surrounded by snakes and rats. Obviously, Mike’s intel had been Rae the whole time. He was probably the one who had called Rae to tell him that his baby mama had been killed. Rae also had to know that I’d done the hit. It was clear that Rae didn’t know that I was the same nigga who had intervened between him and Daisha that night. Then I wondered if he suspected that it was my car that was outside his baby mama’s house. He’d seen my black Chevy at the cemetery.
“Hmm. Well, damn, man. I ’ppreciate the info,” I said.
“No problem, man. I don’t like that nigga Rae, anyway,” Mario revealed, still leaning into my car. “He got this pretty-ass girlfriend. She work down there at the Blue Flame. That nigga treat her like shit. He treat all his chicks like shit, and he got a lot of bitches. I believe he killed his baby mama. If he get out, kill that nigga and take him for everything he got. Fuck nigga.”
I nodded, knowing that Mario was referring to Daisha. “Yeah, man. I’m ’bout to go holla at my cousins. I’ll see you around, man.”
“A’ight. Be easy, my nigga.”
“Oh, and don’t tell my cousins what we talked about.”
“Already.” He stood up straight and watched as I peeled off.
I was mad as pure fire as I grabbed my strap and tucked it in the waistband of my jeans. Shit, there were no words that could express my anger. I’d grown up with Mike and Dank, and to think that they’d cross me like that…. The only thing I could think about was the fact that my next hit might have to be on my own blood, and not on that fugazzi-ass nigga Rae. That shit had my mind in a zone that a killer like me knew was dangerous. Shit, as I pressed the gas, all I saw was red. Blood, to Mike and Dank, wasn’t thick worth a fuck.
Chapter 17
Pistol
My hand landed on the horn of my car, and it let off a long harsh honk.
“Fuck! Move yo’ shit, muthafucka!” I yelled out of the window in frustration.
The fact that some fool wanted to pull in front of me and just sit there only fueled my already hostile-ass mood. The light had turned green, and I was just mere seconds away from getting to the bottom of the bullshit my cousins had pulled. I didn’t have time for patience, so I honked the horn again. That time I didn’t stop until the driver of the truck started moving.
“Thank you. Damn!”
But by the time my foot touched the gas, I heard the sound of sirens behind me, and then I saw flashing lights. My heart immediately fell to the bottom of my feet as I glanced in the rearview mirror. I was hoping he was passing me, but that pig motherfucker was on my ass. Something told me to make a run for it, but the road was narrow and that slow-ass truck was still in front of me. Shit. I had nowhere to go.
According to the driver’s license that I had, my name was Darren Hardy. Darren was my homeboy who had died five years ago in a freak accident with a four-wheeler. Gas had leaked from his car after the truck hit him, and he’d been smoking a cigarette while sitting in his car. He’d gotten out of the car after the accident, and when he’d thrown the still lit butt on the ground, it ignited a flame and his pant leg caught on fire. As he tried to stamp out the flames, he fell and hit his head on the ground. Because of that, he couldn’t get away from the fire. Nobody else was out there with him, and by the time I got to where he was, it was too late. I had always blamed myself for that shit, because I hadn’t been able to save him.
As I sat there waiting for the officer to get out of the patrol car, it felt like I was being engulfed by fiery flames too. It wasn’t like I had been speeding or had done anything illegal. I had just been sitting there in one damn spot. But the pit of hell seemed to be swallowing me up, nonetheless, and for the first time since I didn’t know when, I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer.
When I opened my eyes, I saw in my rearview mirror that the officer had emerged from his patrol car. Damn it. It was a white cop. Shit. Just my fucking luck. Could a nigga catch a br
eak? He was young, though, so hopefully, he was a Democrat, I thought. Maybe he was an Obama supporter and had some type of sympathy for the plight of the black man. Shit. Then again, he could be an overzealous cop who wanted to slaughter a black man right there in the middle of the street.
The officer walked slowly to my car, with a stride that let me know that he was in no hurry. Sweat started to gather on my forehead, although the air conditioner was on full blast. A voice told me to make a run for it. I had an intense urge to just get out of the car and try to make it on foot. Then I thought about the possibility of having a shoot-out with a cop. Damn if I needed that heat. I’d just have to take my chances. As long as he had no probable cause, he couldn’t search me or my car.
I hadn’t been smoking, and there weren’t any drugs in my shit. All I had was a gun on me, and I had hid it under my seat. When I saw him standing there at my window, I slowly slid it down.
“Yes, Officer?” I said, greeting him politely, trying my best not to rub him the wrong way.
“License and registration please.” His narrow gray eyes were on me as I reached in the glove compartment.
After that, I went in my pocket for my wallet. I passed him the license and registration and waited for him to let me know why he’d stopped me instead of the asshole who was holding up traffic in front of me.
“Your taillight is out. Looks like it’s cracked. Did you know that?” He sounded like some hillbilly-ass cracker to me.
“No, sir. I, uh, I just got this car, so …”
He nodded. “I’ll be back.”
The pulsating beat of my heart was audible to my own ears. Why the hell hadn’t I checked every fucking square inch of this damn car? Shit! I watched as he made his way back to his cruiser to check and see if I had any warrants. Of course, I didn’t. Well, Darren didn’t.
For what seemed like an eternity, I sat there biting down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. Finally, the officer was back out of his car, and I would soon learn my fate. If there was anything good working in my favor, he’d let me go and I wouldn’t have to do anything stupid, like shoot his ass.
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