Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose (9 page)

Meka looked at her brother as if he was losing it. “What the hell you laughing at?”

Ant sniffed, and rubbed his nose. “Naw, I was just thinkin’ ‘bout some shit me and Mike had did,” he said, still smiling.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Meka walked into the living room and saw all of the guns on the leather couch. It looked like something out of a page of
Guns & Ammo
magazine. She also noticed all of the coke lined up on the coffee table. It was obvious that her brother’s habit had become more than just some shit he did occasionally. “What the fuck is all this shit?” asked Meka, gesturing towards the coffee table.

“Ain’t nothing sis. Just a lil somethin’, nothing major…”

“Nothing major? Nothing,
major
!? That’s damn near a half right there, nigga! And ain’t no tellin’ how much of that bullshit you done put up your nose already. You told me you was finna fall back and stop fuckin’ with this shit, Ant!” Meka exclaimed angrily. “You gon’ end up just like mama!” Fuming, she took her hand and swept the coke off the table onto the carpeted living room floor.

“Meka, what the fuck is you
doing
!? That was fishscale!” roared Ant. He grabbed his twin sister up by her arms, forcefully backed her into the wall and began shaking her violently. Her head hit the framed photo of them and Glo that was hanging up, causing it to fall to floor. Meka struggled to break free from her brother’s grasp, but he was too strong. “Why the fuck did you just do that, Meka!? Huh?” Ant’s eyes were filled with a rage and desperation Meka had never seen in her brother.

“So, you love that white
bitch
more than you love me, Ant? Huh!?” yelled out Meka as tears began to silently stream from her eyes and stain her face.

Seeing his sister’s tears was enough to snap Ant out of his rage. He let go of her arms and for a second, just stared into her crying eyes, unable to believe that he had been the cause of her pain. “Meka…” In his mind he knew what he’d just done was wrong, but he couldn’t find the words to make it right. He leaned down and gently took her head into his hands and began kissing his sister’s tears away. He hugged her close and whispered “I’m sorry” over and over again into her ear. Meka hugged him back, tightly, the AK between their bodies a deadly reminder of the fact that niggas wanted them dead.

Ant stepped back and placed the rifle on the couch. He walked back up to his sister, who still had her back to the wall, and for a moment they just stared at one another. No words were needed as they began kissing. The kiss was sensual at first, but quickly became more intense, more passionate. Within seconds, they were frantically tearing off their clothes, both anxious to touch the other’s flesh. Meka, who was already down to her red lace Victoria’s Secret bra and panties set, helped Ant out of his black thermal and tank top. His jeans and boxers were already on the floor around his ankles. Ant’s erection was bulging as Meka stepped forward and took it into her soft manicured hands. She sucked on her brother’s neck then let her tongue run down his muscular chest, until she got to his nipple. She knew that was his ‘spot’. Meka sucked and slurped on one nipple and then the other while simultaneously stroking his dick with one hand and playing with his balls with the other. Pre-cum began to ooze out of the tip of his head. Meka felt the wetness on her hand and moaned. She brought her hand up to her mouth, looked her brother deeply in the eyes and let him see her lick his lust off of her hand.

Ant held his throbbing manhood and watched as Meka reached behind her and unfastened her bra. She pushed the straps off her shoulders and let her bra fall to the floor, exposing her beautiful, full D-cup breasts. No longer able to restrain himself, Ant picked his sister up and with his pants still around his ankles, shuffled her into his bedroom. He laid her down and hurriedly finished stepping out of his Nikes and jeans. Fully naked, he joined her on the bed. She grabbed his dick, pulled her panties to the side and guided him into the tightness of her dripping wet pussy. She let out a moan and wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck. “Fuck me,” she whispered into his ear. “Hard.”

For the rest of the night, and into the early morning, Ant D and Meka made love like there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. And for all they knew, there was a strong possibility that there wouldn’t. It was that thought, in the back of their minds that made the sex even more intense and passionate. But for that brief moment in time, while they shared each other’s bodies, nothing else mattered.

$$$

Meanwhile, Hector Rodriguez and three other members of the Mexican Mafia were exiting out the back of a club on White Horse Road called El Fuego. They noticed something on the ground that caused them to stop dead in their tracks.

El Fuego was a known hangout for members of the Mexican Mafia and their many associates. It was owned by Hector Rodriguez, A.K.A. “Dinero” (Spanish for money). Hector had been smuggled into Texas during one of the hottest days of a heat wave in a filthy, crowded U-Haul truck only a few years before. It had been over a hundred and twenty degrees outside of the truck on that scorching hot summer day. It can only be imagined what the conditions had been like inside. More than half of the group who had been in that truck with Hector didn’t make it into the United States alive. Many of the people (men, women and children of all ages) had died from the severe heat and dehydration.

Hector was extremely intelligent and business savvy. He quickly acclimated himself to the American streets. Within months of arriving, he had several mules smuggling any and every drug across the U.S. border for distribution. From exotic weed, to pills, to coke; if there was a market for it, Hector made sure it got sold. It didn’t take him long to rise through the ranks of M2, as the Mexican Mafia was also known. Many of his peers were feared for their willingness to commit the most savage murders at the drop of a dime. Hector, on the other hand, was
respected
for his ability to make money… and lots of it. One day somebody had jokingly called him Dinero. The name stuck; and it fit him well.

After a trip to the southeast a few months back with one of his associates, Dinero had inquired into who was moving what and what they were charging for different narcotics, wholesale. The answers he got brought a smile to his face. Some nigger named Zulu, from New York, who ran a bunch of other niggers who called themselves M.B.M. seemed to have the market sewn up. But the shit they were putting on the streets was diluted and weak. Dinero smiled at the possibilities and within weeks of visiting, he returned and set up his operation in Greenville S.C. Strategically, Greenville made sense because it sat directly in the center of two major markets: Atlanta to its south and Charlotte to its north. 85 South linked them all together and the drive wasn’t that long. So Greenville it was. Other than a few incidents where a shipment or two was intercepted by the federalis, things had been running pretty smooth.

But Dinero didn’t get to where he was by being scared of a little blood. He knew the business he was in could get very messy. Violence simply came along with the territory. He accepted this with no qualms whatsoever. He just preferred to commit murder only when it was absolutely necessary. As he and his three subordinates stared down in disgust at something that could’ve been a prop in a horror film, Dinero knew that murder would be necessary; absolutely. Lying on the gravel that led into the woods behind the club was a body; a body without any skin on it, whatsoever. There was a ring on one of the fingers that Dinero immediately recognized. It belonged to his comrade, Victor Ortiz. On the ground, next to the skinless corpse was a cell phone. It began to ring.

One of the guys looked at Dinero for approval. He nodded his head and the phone was retrieved from the ground and given to him. He flipped it open and just listened. “Hope you like your taco’s well done wetback. M.B.M muhfucka!” Dinero flipped the phone closed and shrugged his shoulders as he stared down at his fallen comrade. Sometimes violence was unavoidable. The biggest street war Greenville S.C. would ever know had just seen its first casualty, but definitely not its last.

CHAPTER 9

When
Meka awoke, she didn’t know where she was at. She was still completely naked and her arms and legs were strapped to the posts of a strange bed that she had never been in before. There were three men standing around the bed all wearing black flags from the nose down to disguise their faces. She immediately fought to break free of her restraints, which were some type of thick rope, but all she did was tire herself out and hurt her ankles and wrists in the process. Her chest was heaving from the physical exertion and though she could only see their eyes, she knew the three men were smiling at her. She felt her skin crawl as their evil eyes moved back and forth over her naked flesh. One by one, she watched as the men unfastened their jeans. They pulled their pants down and Meka saw them holding three snakes in their hands. What frightened her even more, was the fact that the snakes were alive and flicking their little, red forked tongues back and forth at her. Their beady little black eyes watched her as they squirmed around in their owner’s hands and bared their sharp, venomous teeth. As one of the men approached the bed with his snake in his hand, Meka’s eyes filled with fear. She watched in horror as the man mounted her. She could feel his snake forcefully penetrate her vagina against her will. As it slithered inside of her she opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could. No sound came out…

“Aaaaaaah!!! Aaaaaaaah!!!” Meka awoke from her nightmare, startled and sweaty. Her screams had been loud enough to wake her brother as well. Ant D, unaware of what the fuck was going on jerked upright in the bed next to his sister and immediately snatched the pistol off the dresser beside his bed. He pointed it around the room, not sure exactly where the threat might be coming from. Once he came to the realization that there
was
no immediate threat, he rested the chrome pistol in his lap and looked at his sister.

“Meka, you alright?” Ant D asked, concerned.

She responded by getting out of the bed completely naked, and walking out of the bedroom. Ant started to get up and follow her, but decided against it. Minutes later, Meka walked back into the room, still naked and with a lit blunt in her mouth. She sat on the side of the bed, with her back to her brother and took a deep pull from the blunt. She held it in for as long as she could before exhaling the potent smoke along with her pain into the air. Meka had been through a lot in her short life that she really didn’t want to think about or dwell on for too long. So like so many others in the hood with serious issues who couldn’t, or wouldn’t see a doctor, she self-medicated.

That was the first time she’d woken up from a nightmare that bad in a long time. She used to have them almost every night after she first came out of her coma, but they had started to subside in intensity and frequency. The weed smoke helped push all the bullshit in her head to the back of her mind. She took another deep pull before turning around and offering the blunt to her brother, and lover. He took it and began smoking. They listened to the birds chirping outside the window as the two siblings passed the blunt back and forth. The early December sunlight illuminated the bedroom despite the blinds being closed. Meka broke the silence and said, “I’m finna jump in the shower, get dressed and head back to the hotel. I know mama probably worrying like a muhfucka right now.” She took a few more pulls from the blunt, which was quickly turning into a roach. In Meka’s eyes, only bird bitches smoked roaches. That’s why their lips were all black and their fingers burnt. She was far from a bird, so when she began to feel the heat from the blunt she bent forward and put it out in the ashtray her brother had on the floor.

Meka got up and walked out of the room, headed towards the bathroom. Ant D just lay there, enjoying his high as he heard the shower running in the bathroom. He thought about joining her, but knew his sister well enough to know when to give her some distance. And hearing her wake up the way she did, Ant figured now would be a good time to give her that breathing space.

When Meka stepped back into the room, she was dressed in some tight fitting (everything fit Meka’s body tight) pink sweatpants and a hoodie she had gotten out of her closet. Even when Meka dressed down and tried to be discreet in a sweat suit, there was really no hiding her voluptuous body. Her breasts looked like prisoners just waiting on the perfect opportunity to escape and her ass filled out the sweats very nicely. On her feet were some matching pink and white retro Jordan’s that were comfortable and looked extremely cute on her petite feet. Meka loved her expensive designer clothes and shoes, but she didn’t have a problem with occasionally throwing on some J’s and sweatpants.
After all
,
it’s not about the clothes, it’s about who’s wearing them shits
, thought Meka, with a slight smile. And it for damn sure didn’t seem to stop any of the thirsty ass niggas and bitches from trying to get with her.

“Damn, nigga. You gon’ walk me to door or what?” Meka asked her brother playfully. She was feeling a little bit better now that she’d had her early morning smoke session and had taken a hot shower. Ant swung his legs over the side of the bed, wiped the cold out of his eyes and stretched as he stood up. He was completely naked except for the .50 caliber chrome Desert Eagle he held in his hand. The long barreled semi-automatic pistol only held eight shots (one in the head, seven in the clip) but was powerful enough to stop a fucking rhinoceros dead in its tracks.