Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose (24 page)

“Zulu, you have not disappointed. You have truly proven to be a worthy opponent. However, the games are over. Checkmate.” Zulu broke free from his captors grasp and lunged at Dinero. Before he could even get close, a bullet tore the back of his skull off his head and lodged in his brain. Dinero quickly sidestepped the body and watched it fall to the ground; a desperate act from a dead man. He calmly wiped the drops of blood from his face and turned to walk away. “
Picar
 
él
 
y entregar
 
partes de su cuerpo
 
a su pueblo
 
para que sepan
 
que
 
ya no existe!
” Dinero barked out over his shoulder as he descended the stairs and left the building.

Members of the Mexican Mafia began to pull out sharpened blades, saws and an assortment of other material sharp enough to cut through bone. The Mexicans made short work of Zulu. They started with his head. Within an hour the man formerly known as Zulu was nothing more than numerous pieces of flesh and bone stuffed inside of clear trash bags.

In the far rear corner of the room was the only piece of furniture left inside of the abandoned space. It was an old, heavy, desk made of metal. It had rusted badly from its constant exposure to the elements.

Underneath the desk, in the space where the secretary’s chair would normally go was a cowering Tom Fields. His arms were wrapped around his shaking knees as he rocked back and forth in the fetal position. He had pissed and shitted on himself but he sat there engulfed in his own stench, too afraid to move from that spot. He had just made up his mind that he no longer wanted a career in politics.

$$$

In the days following Zulu’s brutal demise, there was a lot of speculation as to whether he was really dead or not. That is until different parts of his body began to mysteriously show up at trap houses and dope spots under M.B.M. control. A foot with Zulu’s thousand dollar gators still on it would pop up here. A hand with Zulu’s quarter million dollar diamond pinky ring would pop up there. The speculation ceased entirely one early morning when Zulu’s severed head was found on the steps of his multi-million dollar mansion with his dick stuffed into his mouth. The war was over.

Initially, some members of M.B.M. had wanted to retaliate. They quickly realized they had no resources to retaliate with. The identity of Zulu’s African connect had died along with him. Nobody knew how to get in contact with them or even who
they
were for that matter.

As months passed, the idea of retaliation quickly went out the window. The streets were dry. Niggas pockets were on E. Everybody was scrambling, trying to link up with a decent connect but nobody had work as good or as cheap as the Mexicans. It wasn’t long before different members started copping their work from the M2.

“Maaan fuck that shit,” said one of Zulu’s former lieutenants one day when he was asked why he was fucking with the Mexicans. “I don’t know what the fuck you niggas thinking ‘bout but one monkey don’t stop no show. There’s still a lot of money to be made out here in these streets. Just ‘cause that nigga dead don’t mean I’m finna starve! Fuck Zulu.” This made perfect sense to young black men and women from the gutters of society. They had been raised in Capitalist America where the Almighty Dollar was God. It was time to head back to church and give praise.

CHAPTER 28

Meka was feeling extremely stressed as she walked the aisles of the Wal-Mart on Woodruff Rd. She was absently throwing items into her cart that was on her shopping list. She was almost a month pregnant and being on the run with Ant was taking its toll. His cocaine habit wasn’t a habit any longer. It was a full blown addiction. His paranoia was getting worse. On more than one occasion Meka had woken up and watched for hours as Ant just stood at the window of their motel room in his boxer briefs. He’d peek from behind the curtains, listening intently as he gripped an assault rifle in his hand and stared absently into the night.

Mike was locked in the county facing the death penalty. The money they had gotten when they’d robbed Twan last summer was beginning to run low. On top of that, Meka was feeling guilty about the fact that she hadn’t spoken to her mother since the beginning of the year. She wondered how Gloria would take the news of her pregnancy. She didn’t have the heart to tell her just yet. Meka sighed heavily. Shit was real.

Meka was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t even see the man in front of her until she ran her cart into him.

“Damn! You tryna run a nigga over?” a tall, dark skinned man asked, with a hint of humor in his voice. He was about 6’3 with the build of a wide receiver. His hair was cut in a fresh ceaser. He smiled at Meka, revealing straight pearly white teeth.

“Naw, I wasn’t tryna run you over,” Meka said laughing. “Seriously though, that’s my bad. I wasn’t even paying attention where I was going.”

“You sure you didn’t do that on purpose?” the man asked smoothly, looking down at Meka with a sly look on his face.

Meka shot him a look of her own. “Umm… yeah, I’m pretty sure,” she said dismissively. She rolled her eyes at his little weak attempt at game. She pushed her shopping cart past him. He was fine as hell, but Meka got attention from niggas
and
bitches on her worse day. She damn sure didn’t need to hit anybody with a shopping cart to get them to notice her.

“Yeah, well you
definitely
got my attention now. My name’s Deandré but everybody calls me Dre though.”

“Well… Deandre’. It’s been nice but I got some shopping to finish doing,” she said, dismissing him once again.

He walked in front of the shopping cart and stopped her. “Look, I’m not even the type to be chasing. Especially someone who don’t wanna be caught. But I can see past all that tough shit. I can see you’ve been hurt. But I can also see you’ve got a good heart.”

“And how the hell can you see all of that? What are you; some type of psychic or something?” Meka quipped, immediately putting her guard up.

“Look, call me alright…” he said extending a piece of paper with numbers on it to Meka. She just stared at it. “If you like what I have to say, then we can continue the conversation. If you don’t, then what have you lost?”

Meka thought for a second. She looked the nigga over again. His tall dark chocolate ass kind of reminded her of Idris Elba. She could tell from his accent and style that he was from out of town. His attire didn’t consist of baggy jeans and an oversized white T-shirt. He also wasn’t wearing any gaudy jewelry that screamed for attention.

A basic bitch might’ve made the mistake of thinking he was broke. Nothing about Meka was basic. Her keen eyes quickly spotted the inconspicuous but extremely expensive Frank Muller watch on his wrist. There were no diamonds in it and it looked simple but looks can be very deceiving. The watch was the price of most people’s homes. She didn’t know what this nigga did but she knew he was doing
something
. Meka smiled inwardly. Maybe she’d just found a nice lick.

Fuck it,
she thought as she took the paper from his hand. She dropped it into her handbag. If nothing else, she’d get into the sucker’s head and see what types of moves he was making. If he was holding like she thought he was then maybe she’d let him fuck… before she lined his ass up.

$$$

Meka awoke with the fire of desire burning between her smooth, brown skinned, slightly bowed legs. She was wet; soaking wet. In fact her pink Victoria’s Secret underwear were so drenched that in her first few disoriented seconds of consciousness she’d been afraid that she had peed on herself. Meka put her hands between her thighs and realized that she hadn’t peed on herself; she was just horny and wanted to fuck. The memory of the previous night’s sexual activities had her pussy throbbing.

She reached over and pulled the sheet back from her lover’s head, exposing his face. The blinds in his bedroom were slightly opened allowing the soft glow of the street lights outside to illuminate his features. Meka looked at her lover with a deep intense lust in her eyes. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the earlobe, whispering his name. He didn’t budge. “Baby, wake up.” She sucked on his earlobe as she rubbed his hard muscular chest. She called out to him again, in her little girl voice.

“Hmm?” He mumbled something incoherently.

Meka stuck her tongue in his ear and let her hand wander slowly down his chest and stomach until her small manicured fingers were inside his boxers, resting on his semi-limp dick. “Baby, you up?”

“Yeah, I am now,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

“I want you inside me.” Immediately she felt her lover’s dick began to stiffen in her hand. Meka continued to play with it until it was so hard that she could no longer wrap her hand around the shaft. She reached over and pulled out a Magnum XL from an already opened pack on the nightstand. She opened the gold wrapper with her teeth and expertly rolled it down the thick shaft of his hardened member.

Meka threw the covers back and straddled his waist with her thick thighs. She leaned forward a little and reached between her legs with her hand. Hastily she jerked her soaked panties to the side. Why bother taking them off? Almost instantaneously Meka had her lover’s thick black cock buried inside of her; riding it. She rode slowly at first. Then she picked up the pace, going faster; harder.

Meka was sloppy wet. Her lover could feel her wetness running down his balls and thighs as he thrust upward to meet her. Her pussy felt like a hot wet vice around his dick. Meka’s ass bounced and jiggled as she threw herself down wildly on his rock hard erection. “Oh god! Yeah, yeah, yeeeah! Oooh that dick feels so damn good. It’s so deep—I think I can feel it in my stomach,” Meka screamed out.

Eyes closed, she placed her hands on his chest and continued to buck her ass roughly up and down. Her pussy sounded like it had a bad case of gas the way it kept farting. Her lover grunted. She moaned. The nasty symphony of their lovemaking turned her on even more.

Midstride, she turned her body around until her ass was facing him. She knew seeing her ass bounce and shake from that angle would turn him on. Plus she wanted him to play with it. She leaned forward, grabbed his ankles and began riding him like that, with the same intensity as before.

Her lover spit on the first two fingers of his right hand then shoved them roughly into Meka’s asshole. She gasped, but never broke her rhythm. She kept riding him as his fingers worked their way vigorously in and out of her tight dark orifice. Suddenly Meka’s body tensed up and began to spasm violently. She was cumming… hard. She screamed. It was a ferocious sound; more animalistic than anything else. Her lover kept pumping his fingers inside of her. By now, he had managed to get another finger inside of her contracting asshole. She was still convulsing; cumming.

As the intensity of her orgasm began to subside, she slid off of her lover’s still rock hard manhood. She noticed the rubber had broken sometime during the course of their wild lovemaking session. Caught up in the moment neither of them gave it a second thought.

Lustily, she licked and slurped her cream off of his swollen member. Holding his wet cock in her hand Meka looked into his eyes as she pulled the rest of the condom off. Her wild display of lust made his blood boil. If he didn’t cum he’d go crazy. He was ready to explode at any second. Meka sensed this and tried to take all of him into her mouth. She couldn’t take it all but she damn sure tried.

Her lover began to skeet wildly into her mouth and down her throat; his hands clamped around her head. Meka felt the hot sticky fluid fill her mouth until she felt like she was going to gag. There was so much of it! She loved it. She loved the taste of her lover’s sweet, sticky semen in her mouth.
This nigga must eat a lot of pineapples
, Meka thought randomly.

His erection began to soften, slipping out of her mouth. Meka collapsed on top of him; their bodies a heap of spent sweaty flesh. She laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

What the fuck am I doing?
thought Meka as she lay there. This was totally out of character for her. She had only met this nigga a month ago. As a rule she made a nigga put in some serious time and work to even get a whiff of her pussy; and usually with the intentions of setting his ass up. She couldn’t lie to herself though. Deandré was different. After a few conversations, they just clicked. She couldn’t really express it in words. It was more of a feeling than anything else. Sometimes, shit just feels right. This was one of those times.

Meka hadn’t planned on falling for Dre, but she had. She definitely hadn’t planned on letting his smooth, sexy, chocolate ass fuck so early in the game, but she had. Now here they were. The funny thing about the situation was that she didn’t love him. Meka had been through too many real life situations to ever believe in that fairytale, ‘love at first sight’ bullshit. Though she did have feelings for him deep in her heart, nobody would ever be able to replace the love and intimacy she shared with her brother.