by Eden Rose
Plus, the homeless people need food too. I hate wasting food. Food is such an expensive commodity now-a-days and it kills me to throw it away.
When I was learning how to cook, I ate a couple of the burned meals to make sure it didn’t go to waste. It really bothers me.
And it could also be the fact that I don’t have a lot of money as it is and buying food to throw it away is cutting into the little profit I do have.
Sheila has big brown eyes and long brown hair that is always wavy, but her lips are what attracted me to her in the first place. They are like pillows that are begging anyone to kiss the shit out of them. DSL.
“What’s up, Mason?”
I embrace her as she stands up to hug me and I hug her tighter. The thing about Sheila is that her skin is always so fucking soft. “Hey. Just dropping some food off.”
She steps out of the hug and grabs the food from me. I watch as she opens the lid and takes a deep sniff. “Mexican. My favorite.”
I chuckle and she giggles because we both know that she loves Mexican food. She’s second generation from Mexico and she would eat the food every day if she could. “I brought that for the homeless, not for you, Sheila.”
A long red nail taps her bottom lip and she smirks, “What did you bring me?” She purrs.
My dick jumps a little, but I tamper him down. I’m not fucking Sheila again. That would be like knowing there is a murderer outside and you answer the door with a gun in your hand. It’s asking for trouble. Andrew warned me so many times that she was a little crazy, but I didn’t believe him.
Abort! Abort!
“Come on, She… You know we can’t hook up again. It’s not that I don’t want to, but we want two different things. Anyways, I need to get going. Have a good one.” Leaving the food, I walk out and right into the man that was in Lucian’s office.
He grunts and pulls me off of his body with a satisfactory groan. “What are you doing on this side of town?”
Confused, I let out a nervous chuckle. “What are you talking about?” I’m right by the office. It’s not as if I have stepped over some imaginary jurisdictional line or something.
Raul points his thumb over to the club and then looks at me. “Lucian doesn’t like it when her employees fraternize with other businesses around here. It’s time to go home.” The man is shorter than I am, and he’s got about fifty pounds on me. However, I know when I can’t win a fight and there’s no way, I would be winning a fight with him. He looks like he would kill me without a second glance.
Put off by the sudden gruffness of his voice, I turn and walk home. By the time I get home, I’m kicking my own ass for not telling that guy to suck a dick. God damn. When did I become such a pussy?
***
I’m dressed in a pair of black dress pants and steel grey button down with my only nice pair of shoes. I’m hoping that I’m dressed well enough for this, but I have no idea what to expect.
“Looks like my brother got the gig,” Andrew whistles from the side of the door with his hip resting against it.
I nod. “I barely got it, man.”
“Wanna get me into the club? I hear they’ve got the best-looking babes in Detroit?”
Rolling my eyes, I tighten my belt. “Not sure if that sets the best example for me. Bringing my brother to work with me and trying to get him into the most exclusive club in Detroit? Yeah, I’m sure I would get invited back to cook.”
“Be careful, bro. I mean it. These people are into some deep shit that you couldn’t even fathom,” Andrew warns before walking out.
I tried researching the club online but there isn’t much information regarding it. According to the website, it’s a member’s only type of thing. You have to be invited by a current member.
On the front page of it, there is a picture of Lucian with her hair down and surrounding her face. She looks gorgeous and I can’t help but want to wrap my hands in her hair and pull her to my dick.
Oh, my fucking god. I’m a god damned pussy.
I throw my phone on the couch before spraying on some cologne and then I pick the phone back up. I slide it into my pocket and make sure I have my keys… ready to go. Wait… I turn grabbing the folder with the contract that needed to be signed, now I am ready.
“Yo, fuckwad. Your part of the rent is due tomorrow. When are you going to get the money?” Andrew calls out from the living room.
I walk past him and out the door. I’m not in the mood to get into an argument with him over this. It’s not worth it. I know I need to pay him.
Seriously, my brother will fucking kick me out if I don’t get money for this. I can’t live on the streets.
Since I can’t afford to put gas in the piece of shit car that I bought off of Dad, I take the walk to the club. Carrying my phone and key’s in one hand and the folder given to me by the secretary, I take the few blocks to the club and consider this.
Why would I need to sign an NDA to cook in a club? What kind of shit happens in these rooms that would require one? The vague veil of what happens in this club ring through my thoughts.
Was Andrew just being a dick or did he actually know something about this place? If he knew about what they do here, how did he know? From what I can tell, it’s exclusive. Andrew’s not the type to go to this kind of thing without knowing for sure he’s getting some.
So, how would he know?
My phone rings in my hand and I flip it over to see my buddy Brad calling. “Hey, bro. I got this problem that I need your help on.”
Ever since we were kids, this mother fucker had constantly thought of several get-rich-quick-schemes. Every time he called me and told me he had a problem meant he needed muscle back up because he shorted someone on one of those schemes. One of these days, he’s going to piss off the wrong people, and get himself killed.
I roll my eyes. Brad is always getting himself into trouble one way or another. Last time he had a problem, I bailed him out of jail. “Nah, man. I can’t. I have a gig.”
A shout and then a chuckle takes over my ear. I yank the phone away to ensure I still have eardrums. “It’s about fuckin’ time you gotta job! I thought for sure I would be visiting you at the homeless shelter!”
“Bye, Brad.” I hang up on him before he could say anything else that would make me nervous about tonight. Or more nervous. Shit, I feel like I’m thirteen again and about to touch Mindy Millner’s boobs behind the bleachers during the pep rally.
In my defense, Mindy had the biggest tits in eighth grade. Those things were so big that they stuck out of her cheerleading uniform. When my dick jumped up to full attention, I got so nervous that I grabbed them too hard and she yelled.
Needless to say, I never got to go to third base with Mindy. She was a whore though. I know for a fact she slept with Brad.
I take a look at the ringing phone again and notice it’s Brad. Again. “What now, asshole?” I groan into the phone.
“You don’t even know what I need your help with.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t think I want to know what you need my help with. I don’t want to go to fucking prison because of you!”
“No prison… No hard time like that. If we got caught, it would be like jail or community service.”
“Not happening,” I cut him off.
“Want to make ten grand tonight?”
That got my attention. “Doing what? I’m not going to rob someone!”
He chuckles. “I got this new gig and I need someone to drive me to the other side of Detroit.”
“All I do is drive you and I get ten grand? What kind of jackass do you think I am?”
I could really use the ten grand. Fuck… I’m going to do it. I already know I’m going to help out Brad because I need the money.
“I’ll pick you up in a minute. Be ready.”
He hangs up on me before I could respond. Without knowing what he’s in the middle of doing, I can’t exactly tell him I’m not interested. Plus, I really need the money.
&
nbsp; I still have a couple of hours before anything starts at the club. I walk the couple of blocks back to my house with my head down, careful not to make eye contact with people.
Working for Lucian is all fine and good, but I don’t know how long she’s going to be needing me for.
As I’m standing in the middle of my room, I get pissed at myself for being a fucking pussy. I’m a pussy for just rolling over for Brad and I’m a pussy for allowing Lucian to talk to me however she wants to. I don’t know the first thing about either of their situations, but I was all too eager to join.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Sure enough, Brad’s banging at the door to get me to hurry up to go do whatever it is he’s wanting to do. I need to hurry up to make sure I’m back in time to get ready to go to the club. I want to make sure I make a good impression on Lucian.
Seriously, who is this fucking guy I have become? Never in my life have I cared what I looked like or given two shits what another girl thought about me like this.
It’s not as if I’m thinking Lucian and I are going to get married or anything…
The woman is hot.
The more she pushes me off and acts like she doesn’t give two shits about me, the more I want her. I want to know what she tastes like. I want to know what she sounds like as I plow into her from behind. I bet she’s the type who has a waxed pussy.
Brad bangs on the door again and I walk through the apartment to go and meet him. He’s got a pissed off look on his face and a scowl. “Took you long enough.”
“I didn’t realize you were King Brad, mother fucker.” I snap back.
Chapter 4
Lucian
“I’ve only come for one thing, boys,” I advise through my mask.
I’m in Chicago picking up the latest score from these gangbangers who make cheap cocaine. It’s cheap, but it’s quality and my customers seem to like it. They have never complained about it being bad.
I have my voice changer hooked up too to make sure they don’t find out that I’m a woman. I hate the looks I get when I’m found out. I’m not going to burst out in tears or some bull shit.
One of the things that sucks about having a pussy in this industry I’m in is the fact no one takes me seriously. I could kill every single one of these assholes and bury them, but they will still look at me like I’m going to bust out in tears.
Setting one of the duffle bags down that hold all the cash for this swap, I separate my feet to make sure I don’t look too feminine. These assholes would shit bricks if they found out they’ve been dealing with a woman.
“McGrace, we got the product you asked for,” Hector, one of the guys I have been buying from, states with a thick accent. He’s built like a bull and would take me down in two seconds if he knew I had a pussy. He’s one of those that thinks this is only a man’s job.
“Good. Let me have it,” I command and point to the bag I’m asking for.
Hector and I have been trading duffle bags for the past year back and forth making sure they remain the exact same in case we’ve been followed.
He hands it over to me with a smirk. “Why you always wear a mask?”
I shrug, even though they probably couldn’t tell due to how thick my sweat shirt is to make sure my boobs don’t stand out. “Adds mystery. Give me a minute to weigh out the bag.”
Without giving him a second chance, I walk over to the table with the duffle bag and begin to go through it. I pull out one of my scales from my jacket to check the weight of each bag, then I begin to calculate the weight from each.
The next and last bag is the one that’s not weighing correctly. It says I’m being shorted. Turning to face Hector, I’m faced with a gun.
“I know exactly who you are,” he mutters while cocking the gun. “I know who you are and what you do. I know you’re a woman who beats men down for your own pleasure.”
Yanking off my mask, I set it on the table with my bag. I shake my head to get my hair to cooperate. “Good job, Hector. Why did you short me?” I demand.
He steps closer until I feel his hands at the bottom of my sweat shirt. “Such a beautiful woman…” He tsks as if it’s my fault.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I taunt. Reaching into duffle bag behind me, I grab the knife I know is in there. I don’t wait a single moment before stabbing him in the throat.
“What the fuck?” He growls, dropping to his knees holding his throat. I know he’s trying to stop the bleeding, but there’s no point. I got him at the perfect spot.
Smirking, I yank the knife out of his throat and pocket it. “Don’t ever short 3-1-3 again, mother fucker. We don’t fuckin’ play around with our money or our product.”
The knife is dripping from the rival blood and I drop it in the duffle bag next to the table that holds all the money I just brought in. I knew it was only a matter of time before these guys started picking up who I was.
Fuck!
“What else do you have hiding in here, Hector?” I ask with a mocking tone. I already know he’s either dead or pretty fucking close. “Don’t mind if I look around, right?” I ask again.
The place where I met Hector, is pretty baron. There’s nothing in here that would make me think he was hiding anything from me since he thought he was going to kill me and steal back the product. Looks like I won that battle, didn’t I?
I shrug it off while grabbing the two duffle bags. Once I make it to the door, I look behind me to make sure Hector’s dead or extremely close to it. “Next time don’t fuck with us,” I state with vehemence.
***
Securing my mask on my face, I slip on my black jacket which is two sizes too big. After the bull shit a couple of years ago, I wear a bullet proof vest for this very reason. These mother fuckers are trying to shoot down the kingpin without realizing the “king” is actually the “queen”.
Bodies have been turning up after we’ve left secured areas where drops have been made. A total of ten bodies have been found in the remote locations over the course of two years. There’s no way in hell, I’m going into an ambush and allowing these mother fuckers to shoot me. If I’m going to die, it’s going to be something good. Not because someone got greedy and wanted to steal from me.
“Ready, Luca?” Raul asks. “Oh, how did it go earlier?”
Nodding, I holster my four weapons and grab the duffle bag full of cocaine. Smuggling cocaine and the other drugs is a lot easier in Detroit because we’re right in the middle of Chicago and Canada. And, drugs don’t talk back and run their fucking mouths like people do.
Plus, this is the cocaine I stole earlier. Nothing but profit for me.
I take a look at my safe to make sure it’s locked and covered before leaving the office. In my office, I have four safes that keep everything I want and need in them.
Even though both my home and the office can be raided at any time, I still keep a collection of cocaine and money between the two. If someone breaks into one of the places and gets the stuff, then I still have my back up.
“Good. I secured our product and money.”
I look in the mirror once last time in my office and notice how weird I look with a masquerade mask on covering my whole face. I check my pocket to make sure I have my voice changer too.
“Are you sure these fuckers asked for me?” I demand as I lock up my office.
Raul does a lot of my running around since I don’t have a lot of time with the businesses I’m running. Especially since I’m trying to break in a new sub… I don’t have the extra time to collect and trade with these assholes.
“Yeah. They wanted to talk to King McGrace about their bill.”
I roll my eyes. “Those assholes are always trying to get me to lower their fucking bill. I don’t get why it’s so difficult for them to realize that’s not how this works!”
“How did it go in Chicago?” He asks while loading his own gun.
It’s not that is uncommon for him to ask me how something went, it
is uncommon from the way he asks me how this went. I think back to my original thought of someone in my ranks ratting me out to the competition.
“Good,” I leave it as vague as possible to see if he will let on about knowing more.
He shrugs. “Just checking to make sure my girl is good.”
“If you really wanted to know how I was doing, why didn’t you come yourself?” I question.
Raul stops me by putting a beefy hand on my shoulder. “I was dealing with Big Heavy and getting them to leave you the fuck alone.”
My eyes widen. “What the fuck do you mean?” I bark. The last thing I need is for some man to think he needs to protect me. I’m fine on my own and I don’t need him thinking he can be my savior.
“Big Heavy’s going to start taking flesh, Luca. You know they think you have more money than you do.”
I ponder what he says. “How do they know what I have? How do they know what I’m doing?” I’m hinting to the big question. Let’s see if he gets it.
Raul shifts on his feet. “Luca, I’m just saying. Word on the street is you’ve got more money than you’re kicking up.”
“Who’s blabbing?” I bark.
“I don’t know. Sorry I brought it up. I did get them paid for this week, though.”
“Have you found Katie yet?” I question.
The only woman who took a chance on me while I was living on park benches after my parents were murdered, was Katie. The woman is a saint. She tried her hardest to stop Big Heavy from jumping me in the traditional way. It would have broken my heart to tell her she didn’t save me.
Katie disappeared last year. No one has any idea where she ran off to. I have a feeling Big Heavy got tired of her interrupting their business and killed her.
Or worse.
I’m hoping they didn’t sell her. There’s no telling where she’s at now if they sold her off.
