Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 4 (15 page)

Joshua Black lay back on the hotel suite's sofa, enjoying the oral sex being performed on him by the Russian prostitute he had ordered, while he puffed on a Cuban cigar. The woman stroked his hardness as her tongue rotated around it in a circular motion. She peered up at him with seductive eyes. A devilish grin appeared across her face as she sucked on the head of Joshua Black's dick like a lollipop. He looked down at the woman. Their eyes met. She toyed with him a little more, then took all of him into her mouth ferociously. He could feel her teeth scrape up against the side of his rod as her tongue pulsated on it. That turned Joshua Black on. He was into rough sex. He squirmed and moaned. He stared down at the blond wig bobbing up and down on him. She attacked his dick with conviction. He placed his cigar in the ashtray then grabbed hold of the side of the Russian woman's face and gripped it. He pushed the woman's head farther into his groin as he thrust his cock into her mouth. Joshua Black could feel her lips tightening around him as she took his mouth fucking.

The feeling drove him crazy. Joshua Black could feel that familiar feeling climbing. He arched his back and pressed the Russian woman's headed firmly onto his cock. He could feel her trying to break free of his hold to no avail. Joshua Black rammed the Russian woman's mouth vigorously until he had reached that point of no return. He continued with his thrusts as he exploded in her mouth. He could hear her gag occasionally. He released his hold of her head and lay back. To his surprise, the Russian stared up at him with a shit-eating grin plastered across her face. He watched as she soaked up any lingering sexual residue between his legs. Joshua Black's dick jumped. It felt as if he was getting erect again. In his mind, he was already anticipating screwing the Russian prostitute's brains out.

His thoughts were immediately drawn to the ringing phone in the case on his dangling belt. He reached down and grabbed hold of his phone. He pushed the Russian woman off to the side and answered the call. Before he could say hello, he was cut off. Joshua Black looked around until he found what he was looking for.

“Got it,” he chimed into the phone after he wrote the information down given to him.

Arthur Love sat in his office at his desk drinking a cup of coffee. He was still trying to digest what he had just moments ago reviewed in the file in front of him. He didn't know what to expect when he received the e-mail earlier from Andre Randle, with pertinent information that could affect the case with his daughter and Treacherous Freeman. He was thankful after Randle told him what lengths he had to go to in order to get what he had sent to him. He had also called in a favor and asked that Love be allowed to handle the situation in house rather than embarrassing his department by making a spectacle of the matter.

After reviewing the content of the file, he didn't know if he wanted to handle the situation on a personal level, a professional one, or both. He and Andre Randle both had their suspicions and now all was confirmed. Now it all made sense to him. More than anything he wanted to bring his daughter and Treacherous to justice, but the right way.
We took an oath,
he thought as he took a sip from his mug. He wasn't perfect, but there were things that a man wasn't supposed to do and it appeared lines had been crossed and trust was in question. Arthur Love sat and contemplated his next move. His attention was drawn to the sound of a ringing phone. “Detective Love speaking.”

“Did you receive my file?”

“Yes, I got it,” Love replied. He wondered how Randle had obtained the information. He admired and respected his detective skills and appreciated his friendship. He never ceased to amaze him. His police work made Love realize just how slow Richmond was in comparison to the seven cities of Virginia.

“I know that it isn't the news you wanted, but you needed to know,” Randle retorted.

“Absolutely.”

“The important thing is you have the information now. I'm headed over that way,” he informed Arthur Love. “We gotta move on this now. Meet me at the address I gave you.” He then ended with, “I'm with you, my friend.”

Arthur Love placed the receiver back on the base and immediately got angry. He looked down at the file again. He shook his head in total disbelief. This was saddening to him. The new revelation had him speechless. But one thing was for sure: he wasn't going to pretend nothing was wrong or even attempt to downplay what was truly the problem. There was no doubt in his mind that the problem had to be dealt with. Arthur knew there had to be a major repercussion as a result.

Why?
he questioned. He never understood why people chose the route they sometimes chose. Detective Love just wanted to know why. He'd been pretending all along that he was a team player, Arthur Love thought as he reflected on all that had transpired. That was half true, because he was a team player; he was just playing for the wrong team and could no longer be trusted, and as a result his integrity had been questioned. It was wrong on so many levels, thought Arthur Love. He tried to contain himself but his anger was getting the best of him. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Not sure if he was sweating because of anxiety or the hot joe in his mug, he was feeling delirious.

“You asked to see me, sir?” A head peeked in Arthur Love's office, breaking his train of thought.

Arthur Love just sat there staring at the face in his doorway. “Yeah, come on in,” Arthur Love invited him.

“Actually, it's my lunch. Can it wait until after? I'm starving.” There was a brief pause. “Or you could join me and we could head over to the deli and catch up and discuss whatever's on your mind. Wouldn't mind catching up on the case over a nice corned beef sandwich.” Neiko Bellini laughed.

Arthur Love let out a light chuckle. “I'll pass. But this'll only take a few minutes,” Arthur Love declined the offer. “Come in and please close the door behind you,” he instructed Neiko Bellini as he took another swig of coffee. He peered up at Neiko over the top of the mug.

Neiko noticed the peculiar way Love was looking at him. For a split second an odd feeling swept through Neiko's body as he entered Arthur Love's office.
Why the hell does he want to talk to me with the door closed, and why the hell is he looking at me over that damn cup?
he wondered.

“Have a seat.” Arthur Love gestured.

“I'd rather stand,” Neiko opted. “I really am starving and this is almost my lunch break,” he reminded him. He looked at his watch as he spoke.

Arthur Love shook his head. “I never suspected you for the type.” He spoke with disgust.

“Huh? Type? Art, what are you talking about?” Neiko asked puzzled. A confused look appeared across his face.

Arthur scowled.
He really thinks he's smart and everybody else is dumb.
“You can drop the act. The jig is up!” Love spoke as he shook his head. He was still in disbelief.

“You are not making much sense to me. I just wanted to grab a bite and you are talking in riddles.”

“It's amazing that you can stand here and look at me as if everything is fine.”

“C'mon, man, what the fuck are you talking about?” Neiko became irate. He grew tiresome of Arthur Love beating around the bush. He had no clue what he was getting at.

Arthur Love's eyes shifted from Neiko to his desk. He opened up the mail folder and slid the copy of the file he had printed out in Neiko Bellini's direction. “I'm talking about this.”

Neiko's eyes peered down at the open folder. The first line immediately caught his attention. A nervous feeling overcame him as he read the words: “Investigation on Officer Neiko Bellini.” His armpits began to moisten. Without having to look up, he knew Arthur Love was staring at him, waiting on a response or reaction. He did his best to conceal his nervousness before he attempted to speak. “This is bullshit!” he spat. “Why would—”

That's as far as he got. Arthur Love could not contain himself. He charged at him like a bull. The impact knocked the wind out of Neiko and sent him crashing to the ground and his phone flying across the room. Love was now on top of him like white on rice. He straddled Neiko. He began delivering blows to his now covered face.

“You fucking snake,” Love spat as he repeatedly landed punches to Neiko's forearms. “You know how fucking important this case is and you're running your damn mouth to Sammy Black!” he yelled as he punched him again.

“Whaaaat?” Neiko shrieked as he tried to duck the blows coming.

“Do not insult my fucking intelligence,” Love warned as he began to attack him yet again, feeling unsatisfied. “I hope it was worth it, you piece of shit!”

“Fuck you, Love!” Neiko spat back as he regained his balance.

“No, fuck you!” Arthur replied as he managed to slip a punch through Neiko's forearms and connected. Blood gushed out of his now broken nose. He choked and gagged as the blood flowed through his nasal cavity and down his throat. He plunged to the floor. His head hit the floor, dazing him somewhat. A white piece of paper fell out of his once clenched fist.

The commotion in the office had drawn attention from others in the precinct. The office door flew open as two officers entered to break up the altercation that was taking place between Arthur Love and Neiko Bellini.

“Get him out of here and arrest this piece of shit,” an out-of-breath Love screamed.

All the time and energy he and Randle had put into investing this case had almost gone down the drain because of Neiko Bellini. He didn't know the connection and didn't care. The only thing he cared about was that he had broken the code of honor and moral ethics. In addition, he was aiding suspected criminals in the pursuit and attempted murder of his daughter. All of those blows to Neiko's face and abdomen did nothing for the rage that was currently consuming him. He was glad his colleagues rushed in when they did or else he may have killed Neiko up in his office.

“What's the charge?” one of the officers asked, wide-eyed.

“Interfering with an investigation and tampering with evidence.” Love regained control of his breathing. “One more thing,” he continued, “conspiracy to commit murder!”

As soon as he mentioned the word “murder,” Neiko Bellini's phone rang out. A nervous look appeared across his face. Arthur Love picked up on it. He walked over to where Neiko's phone lay and picked it up. He looked at the screen and then back at him. There was no doubt in his mind that the initials SB stood for Sammy Black. He also knew it wasn't what you knew but what you could prove. Arthur Love's blood boiled. The two men's eyes met. Neiko was the first to break the stare. His eyes shifted from Arthur Love's face to his feet before remaking eye contact with him. The average person would have missed it. But Love was not your average person. He looked down and noticed the balled-up piece of paper lying on the floor.

“Wait!” Neiko lashed out as Arthur Love kneeled down.

He paid him no mind. Instead, he opened the white piece of paper. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the call that had just come through on Neiko's phone and the balled-up piece of paper were connected.

“Son of a bitch!” Love cursed. “Get him the hell out of here,” he commanded. Then he grabbed his jacket and keys and flew out of his office.

The money machine rang off as it ran through and counted one of the stacks of hundred dollar bills piled up on the table. 100 was what the screen read once the stack of bills completed the process. Sammy Black Jr. stood and watched with folded arms. The machine in the secured back room took no time putting a dent in the ten piles of bills from the bootleg gambling hall Sammy controlled. Occasionally, his eyes shifted from the money machine to the surveillance camera monitors that patrolled the floors of the casino-style establishment.

Business was thriving as usual. The monitors rotated and switched locations with each blink of the screen. Table games from the common area as well as the high-limit section were all filled to capacity, Sammy noticed. That meant a lot of money was being exchanged throughout his operation. Any other time a huge grin would be on his face behind the turnout. This was how Sammy Black Jr. earned for the families. But no matter how much he took in, it still did not compensate for what was taken from his father. Sammy Black Jr. closed his eyes and grimaced. An image of his father being lowered in the ground invaded Sammy Black Jr.'s thoughts.

It's all my fault, Pop.
He blamed himself and only he knew why. He played the tape back over and over in his head.
If only I would've stuck to the plan, things would have been different.
Sammy tried to reason with himself. He still hadn't come to terms with the fact that Sammy Black Sr. only had the duffle bag of money and casino chips in his possession because he simply didn't feel like riding across town to secure them. Now, because of his laziness, Sammy Jr. was fatherless. He couldn't help but replay the last words his father had said to him that night before he had dropped off the money and casino chips and left.
“You can't be lackluster all your life, son,”
were the words that resonated in Sammy Black Jr.'s mind.

I promise I won't, Pop,
he vowed.

The vibration of his phone on his hip canceled his trip down memory lane. He already had an idea as to the nature of the text when he saw the caller's name appear on his screen. He had given specific instructions not to contact him unless they had worthy information for him. Sammy opened the text message. The first thing he noticed was the photo sent to him. His eyes grew cold. Where there was once no reason to, there was one now. Sammy Black confirmed the photo and what to do next. He texted back rapidly as a huge grin appeared on his face out of nowhere.