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Authors: Noire

BOOK: Greed
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“Well if you know for sure who didn’t take it,” Salida challenged, “then why you don’t know for sure who did?”

“Man, I see how y’all living. Y’all tryna set that girl up!”

“That’s bullshit. She did it,” Salida lied, even though she knew damn well that she was the one who had dipped in the G-Spot’s cash box so she could put a down payment on the club drugs she was about to start selling.

Her connect had promised her a shipment of ecstasy and zannies, with another shipment of ’ludes, special k, and roofies coming right after that.

Salida was covering all her bases. She’d used the cash she’d stolen from the safe as a down payment on the pills, and she’d had Truth and Bilal pull a lick on a neighborhood store so she could have enough money to buy all the ingredients she needed to manufacture her first batch of crystal meth.

And she’d gone down to the courthouse and transferred all of G’s businesses that were making money into her name too. Just in case she had to flip them for some extra cash.

 “Nooni ain’t even grimy like that,” Pluto insisted again. “This shit smells just like a set up.”

“Why would we want to set that poor girl up?” Salida glared at Pluto.

She turned her back on him and spoke directly to Ace. “Nooni took that money, baby. She’s been acting real sneaky lately, and every time I look up she’s either modeling some new clothes, or she’s walking around showing off some new phone or some other fancy electronic gadget. Where’s she getting the money to buy all that expensive new shit, huh? Lil Mama is a thief, y’all. Trust me, I know one when I see one.” 

 

 

$$$$$

 

 

Salida slammed outta G’s office as Ace and Pluto continued to argue over Nooni. They didn’t know it, but she was standing right outside taking delight in every heated word they spit. She pressed her ear to the door and tried to hold back her laughter as the two fat fools went at each other’s throats over the changes and upheavals she had set in place.

Salida knew exactly what she was doing. It was all about dividing and conquering. She didn’t give a damn which one of them got the win, or came out on top in their little bitch-fest. If they couldn’t find a way to bring in some big-time cash then there was nothing either one of them could say that would slow her stroll.

Salida was all about her paper. In fact, she was on her way out right now to hook up with her broker. Her connect was a determined hustler who operated his business from the basement of a funeral home of all places.

They’d made a few deals, and already Salida respected his ambition. He reminded her of another hungry hustler she had known pretty good back in the day.

She listened until Ace and Pluto finished talking all that shit. Then she sauntered out the side door and into a

whip parked in the alley, where Truth was waiting to take her to Three Brothers Funeral Home.

 

 

CHAPTER 18

 

 

Two days after Rita’s visit, the COs came for me again. It was CO Allen with the birthmark on his nose, and of course CO Gaines.

“Let’s go, Williams,” Gaines said real loud, making a show of it. Rita had told me she was Dutchy’s sister-in-law and that she was one of the guards who was helping me hide out, but I still didn’t like her. “You just made bail, girl. Grab your shit. It’s time to roll.”

Rita had kept her word. I hollered goodbye to Chiney, then walked out of that cell light-footed and empty-handed because there wasn’t a damn thing in there that I wanted to take with me.

I had to go through the whole process of waiting in a stinking little area while I was being processed. Next, they took me to another area where I waited with some other chicks who were getting sprung too.

“How long is this gonna take?” I asked a skinny Hispanic lady who looked like she had been inside multiple times.

She shrugged. “There might be one more bus leaving tonight but ain’t no telling. If it gets too late they gonna leave our asses right here until in the morning.”

“Williams!” one of the COs called out for me. “Tonight is your lucky night.”

They gave me back my empty Gucci bag and the clothes I had been wearing when they brought me in. I was given my cell phone too. My battery was shot, but I didn’t care. At least I had a phone.

I was nervous as I walked out the jailhouse doors. I expected Rita to be waiting outside to pick me up, but instead there was a tall, light-skinned dude with long box-braids holding open the door of a white Rolls Royce for me. 

“Where is Rita?” I asked, nervous as hell. For all I knew this could be another set up. “Who are you?”

“I’m Dabu,” he said evenly. “Just relax and get in the car. Rita told me to pick you up, so come on before I leave your ass here.”

I was so scared my mouth went dry.

I glanced over my shoulder at the red brick building, then back at the dude who was waiting for me to hop in his ride.

“How do I know Rita sent you?”

He shrugged. “You don’t. But while you standing out here bullshittin’ you ain’t nothing but an easy target, nah’m sayin?”

I rode in that plush whip second-guessing myself all the way back to Manhattan. What if Ace and Pluto had sent this dude? What if this fool kicked me out on a side street and Monique and her crew were waiting to kill my ass? All kinds of scenarios were running through my mind and none of them looked good.

Dabu acted like I wasn’t even in his back seat as we rode. He didn’t say a word to me, and I didn’t say nothing else to him neither. We ended up on the streets of Spanish Harlem, and I almost freaked out when he pulled up in the parking lot of a funeral home and stopped right near the delivery door where they brought the bodies in.

“We’re here,” he said, turning off the ignition and opening his door.

“Umm, hold up!” I said, ready to straight panic. I stared at the sign on the building.

Three Brothers Funeral Home.

Oh, hell no. I didn’t fuck with funeral homes. No way, no how!

“Umm, I’ma need to use your phone,” I told him. Right then and there I decided that he was gonna have to drag me out of his whip. My ass fit real snug in those soft leather seats, and I wasn’t about to budge.

“Get out,” he said, coming around and holding my door open.

“No! I ain’t getting out! Why the hell are we going in the damn funeral home?”

“Just come ya ass on!” he barked over his shoulder. “Or I’ma drive you around to the front and drag your ass out on the street so one of them G-Spot niggahs can get you.”

I got out the car and followed him through a set of double doors that he unlocked with two keys. I grabbed the back of his shirt as we entered the dark building, and I was shaking so hard he reached back and gripped my wrist to steady me.

“Calm the fuck down, girl. You all right.”

To my surprise I could hear music playing, and it wasn’t funeral music neither. It was a cut by Jay-Z, and judging by the bass that was tickling my feet it sounded like it was coming from somewhere down below us.

“Who in the hell is up in here?”

“My boss.”

“Look, I don’t fuck with dead people,” I muttered as I tiptoed behind him with my eyes squeezed half-way closed.

He laughed. “These dead people don’t even know you here.”

 I was shitting boulders as he started leading me down a flight of stairs. The music was getting louder. The beat was bumping. I could see a light shining down there and I prayed like hell that we weren’t gonna walk up on no dead bodies stretched out in open caskets.

I took a few steps and looked down again. There was somebody sitting in a chair at the bottom of the steps, just off to my left.

The first thing I noticed was the toe of his shoe. I had been stomped out with enough first-class leather to recognize imported alligator when I saw it. I knew it wasn’t a dead man because his ankle was propped up on his knee and his foot was moving to the beat.

The further down I went, the more of him I saw.

My eyes traveled along the foot, past the argyle sock, and up the length of the trousers that were cut from fine Italian silk.

My knees shook as I took another step.

A cream-colored shirt was tucked into the pants, and in the lap were a pair of dark hands that were furiously twirling a familiar-looking black onyx ring.

I took another shaky step down, and what I saw in that chair hit me like a sledgehammer and I almost passed out right where I stood.

“God, noooo!” I screamed and clutched the railing as my bladder let go.

G was back.

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

 

 

 

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Read more about JUICY and MONIQUE in
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Monique never could stand Juicy’s ass. She’d known her from 136th Street, and used to tease her retarded brother Jimmy in school all the time. Juicy’s grandmother was sanctified, and used to look down her nose on Monique’s mother because she had ten kids by ten different daddies and couldn’t control none of them…

Have You Read G-Spot: An Urban Erotic Tale?

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Have you ever laid down with a man and wasn’t sure if you’d ever get back up? Tossed the sheets with a bone-knocking fear that only a cold-blooded hustler could produce? Sexed him like your life depended on it, because in reality, it did?
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Have you ever scratched and schemed your way into somebody’s heart? Laid some ill na-na on a gangsta and then hustled him straight outta the game? Traded your goodies for even more goodies? Committed acts so grimy that even God looked down on you and cried?

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Have you ever had everything you loved snatched from you in the blink of an eye? Do you know what it’s like to watch helplessly as those you cherish burn to a crisp in a cruel, merciless flame? Did you hear a cry for street justice and realize that the only person left alive to heed the call was you?

 

 

 

From Hittin’ the Bricks: An Urban Erotic Tale

Have you ever been betrayed by those you love? Violated and abused in the worst kind of way? And no matter how hard you tried to fight your way out of a trick bag, no matter how tall you tried to walk, did the cold streets of life lead you right back to your grimy destiny?

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