Obsession (6 page)

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Authors: Treasure Hernandez

BOOK: Obsession
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“Oh,” Spike said. “Good. 'Cause I was just about to whip ya ass.”
Quick shook his head as he looked around the place. He saw fiends all scattered around the living room getting high. He checked the back rooms and found baggies and heaps of trash laying around the floor. On the dresser was a duffel bag full with crumpled bills inside, mostly tens and fives and a few twenties here and there.
“How much money in that bag?” Quick asked.
Spike shrugged. “I don't know. Why?”
“From now on, I don't want no more than ten thousand in this house at a time,” Quick said.
Just then Quick heard someone knocking at the door. He walked through the pack of fiends and answered the door.
A filthy, ashy-looking man stepped inside. “Hey, my main man,” he said, trying to give Quick dap.
Quick closed the door and looked at the fiend until he put his hand down.
“Hey, where's Roach at?” the fiend asked.
“We under new management now,” Quick told the dirty fiend. “And from now on, don't knock on the front door. Start using the back door. Spike, come serve this nigga and get him the fuck outta here. Matter of fact, I want all these fiends up outta here. This is a trap house, not a muthafuckin' crackhouse!”
“Damn! That's fucked up,” Willie grumbled as he paid for his crack and left.
“Get these ugly muthafuckas up outta here while I count this money,” Quick huffed.
Quick began separating the crumpled bills. He put the fives, tens, and twenties in separate piles. After counting the money, the first thing he planned on doing was washing his hands. He had never seen such dirty money before in his life.
“Dirty money is better than no money,” Quick told himself as he zipped up the duffel bag.
Quick returned back to the living room, where he saw Spike sitting down, skimming through a magazine. “So this all you do all day?” Quick asked, helping himself to a seat.
“Pretty much.” Spike shrugged. “All I do is wait for the money to come. The shit is like clockwork. Every two minutes it's a knock at the door.”
“I'ma get us some lookouts and post them on each corner to let us know when cops are coming, and to look out for stickup kids,” Quick said, thinking out loud.
“Stickup kids?” Spike chuckled. “Ain't nobody stupid enough to try and rob one of Turf spots.”
“Trust me,” Quick said, turning to face Spike. “Wherever there's money, the stickup kids aren't too far behind.”
Quick heard another knock at the door. He watched as Spike just opened up the door without looking through the peephole. He made a mental note to put up a few cameras, so he could see who was coming and going out of his spot at all times, since he didn't like surprises.
After Spike finished serving the fiend, he saw Quick staring at him. “What?”
“You strapped?” Quick asked.
Spike shook his head no.
“You up in here like a sitting duck.” Quick laughed. “Listen, I'm up outta here. I'll be back tomorrow,” he said, shaking his head as he made his way back out the back door.
“Old-school niggas swear they know it all,” Spike said to himself once Quick was gone.
 
 
Willie left the trap house and looked over both shoulders as he hopped into a black van parked at the end of the block.
“What's the word?” Detective Davis asked.
“Man,” Willie began, “they got this new cat up in there. He done changed everything all around inside there.”
“New cat?” Detective Davis said, sitting up. “What happened to Roach?”
“I don't know.” Willie shrugged. “All I know is, I don't like this new cat. Matter of fact, there he go right there.” He pointed out Quick to Detective Davis.
Detective Davis watched as Quick walked over to his car, hopped in, and drove off. “So that's the new guy, huh,” he said to himself. “Don't worry. I'ma find out exactly who he is,” he said as he watched Quick drive right past the van.
Detective Davis reached down in his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” he said, handing Willie the bill. “Keep up the good work. Keep your eyes on that new guy for me.” Detective Davis watched Willie hop out the van and take off down the street.
Detective Davis pulled off and headed home. For the entire ride, his mind was on the new guy. He didn't know what it was about the new guy, but it just seemed like he was going to be a problem.
Detective Davis stepped out of the van and stepped inside his one-bedroom apartment. Inside his living room, he had no furniture inside, just pictures of Turf and every member of his crew posted up on his wall. So far he didn't have a case, but he was determined to build one. Detective Davis was good at what he did. He was the kind of cop that lived and breathed his job. If he wasn't on a big case, he wouldn't know what to do with his life.
Detective Davis, who kind of favored the actor Mel Gibson in his younger days, walked over to his refrigerator and took out a two-day-old slice of pizza out and a Budweiser, and he sat down on the floor and ate, staring at the pictures that hung on his wall.
When Quick left the trap house, he didn't really feel like going home just yet, so he made a detour and decided he would go get him something to eat. He pulled into the IHOP parking lot and shut off the engine.
As soon as he stepped in the restaurant, he spotted Tiffany carrying a plate in each hand. The hostess escorted him to his seat as he skimmed over the menu.
When he saw Tiffany approaching, he looked up from the menu. “Hey. What's up?” he said, not really knowing what to say.
“Hey,” Tiffany said, and her eyes dropped down to the floor. She was still embarrassed about what had happened the last time Quick was there, and was surprised he even still spoke to her.
“How you been?” Quick asked, noticing the red marks on Tiffany's neck. She looked like someone had been strangling her.
“I been cool,” she replied with a weak smile. “You ready to order?”
“Yeah, I'll take my usual . . . steak and fries.” Quick held out the menu, so she could take it.
“Would you like something to drink with that?” Tiffany asked, taking back the menu.
“I want to take you out on a date,” Quick said, ignoring her question.
“I don't think that will be a good idea.” Tiffany walked off toward the kitchen.
Quick watched as Tiffany disappeared through the double doors to the kitchen. He couldn't understand why women would rather stay in an abusive relationship, when they had a chance to get out.
Tiffany walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a sharp knife and stuck it down into her apron. The next time Blake tried to put his hands on her, she was going to kill him. Her mind was already made up.
Tiffany liked Quick, who seemed like a nice guy, but right now she had too much going on in her life to be thinking about going out on a date, the last thing on her mind. She was about to take someone's life if she had to, and everything else just had to wait.
As Quick sat waiting for his food, he received a text message from Major Pain telling him it was time to meet up. He stuck his phone back down in his pocket just as he saw Tiffany walking toward his table, carrying his plate.
“I'm sorry. I'ma need this to go,” he said politely.
Tiffany walked toward the back and returned with a take-home box and a bag.
“Thank you,” Quick said, and he dropped three twenty-dollar bills down on the table and left in a hurry.
Tiffany watched Quick until he pulled out of the parking lot. She was thankful that he had saved her from Blake the last time he was here, but she didn't think that a date right now would be a good idea.
She walked in the back to Mr. Richardson's office. “Hey. You got a minute?” she asked.
“What's on your mind?” Mr. Richardson sat down the paperwork he was going over and gave Tiffany his undivided attention.
“I'm not feeling too good. Is it all right if I take the rest of the night off?” she asked, putting on her best I-don't-feel-good face.
“Sure,” Mr. Richardson said. “But I'll need you here on time tomorrow.”
“You got it.” Tiffany smiled as she walked around the desk to give her boss a thank-you hug.
Then she went and grabbed her things and headed home. All she wanted to do was go home and relax. She was praying that Blake didn't start no shit tonight because, the way she was feeling right now, she could kill him twice.
Tiffany hopped off the bus and headed down the block. For some reason, tonight she was feeling good. In her pocket she held the knife extra tight that she had stolen from work as she entered her building. Tiffany had no idea what would pop off tonight, and to be honest she really didn't care. She was sick and tired of being sick and tired. At some point in one's life, a person has to put their foot down and say enough is enough, and tonight was that night for her.
She stepped off the elevator and slowly walked down the narrow hallway until she reached her door, taking a deep breath as she stuck her key through the lock and entered the place she had called home.
Tiffany stepped inside and smiled when she saw that Blake wasn't home. She thanked God over and over again, because she really didn't feel like being bothered with Blake's bullshit tonight, and honestly she didn't want to have to kill him, but she would if she had to.
She walked in her room and stuck the knife down in the back of her drawer underneath some clothes. She knew she probably wouldn't see Blake for a few days, until he spent all of the sixteen hundred dollars.
She stripped down out of her clothes, walked to the bathroom, and ran her some bathwater. She just planned on relaxing tonight. She stepped in the tub and got comfortable as the hot water made her feel better.
She rested her head on the back of the tub. She remembered when her and Blake had got together, he used to be such a nice guy. It seemed like he just started changing overnight. He was insecure and didn't know how to handle being with an attractive woman. If she spoke to anybody, she had to explain herself, like she was a child. His child. No matter what she told him, he never believed her, and he would question her about her every move. Then came the physical abuse.
Tiffany's thoughts were interrupted when she heard the front door open then close. Then she heard footsteps, and seconds later Blake poked his head through the bathroom door.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he came in the bathroom. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “What you doing home so early?”
“I wasn't feeling too good, so I left work early,” she told him as she stood and grabbed her towel so she could dry off.
Tiffany was surprised that Blake was in such a good mood. Usually he'd come home drunk and in a grumpy mood.
“I'll be back later,” Blake said, heading for the door.
Tiffany didn't ask where he was going, because she couldn't care less.
As long as he didn't start no shit, it wouldn't be no shit,
she thought as she went and climbed in the bed, where she relaxed for the rest of the night.
“Party Time”
Quick pulled up to the address Major Pain had told him to meet him at. When he pulled up, he saw three vans parked out front, and around twelve to fifteen rough-looking men standing around, dressed in all black. He hopped out his car and walked up. From what he saw, each man held an automatic weapon.
“Glad you could finally make it,” Wolf said, with a smirk on his face. In his hand he held a MAC-11.
Quick gave Wolf dap then moved on to Major Pain. “What's the word?” he asked.
“This fucka Sosa is having a party at his mansion tonight,” Major Pain said. “We going to crash that bitch,” he said with a smile. “Grab a weapon.”
Quick looked in the back of one of the vans and saw a range of weapons. He grabbed an AK-47 and three extra clips. He loaded his weapon and stuck the extra clips in his pocket. Just by looking at each man's face, he could tell that they meant business, that they were looking to impress Turf tonight. He had no idea how the night was going to play out, but one thing he did know, it wasn't going to be pretty.
Five men hopped in each van as the three vans pulled off heading toward Sosa's mansion.
 
 
“A toast to the good life,” Sosa said, and him and Lucky made their glasses touch.
Sosa was happy to have a soldier like Lucky on his team, someone reliable to hold shit down. He had personally seen Lucky put in work, not to mention all the stories circulating in the streets, so he knew the money he was paying Lucky would be well earned.
“Glad to have you on the team.”
“Glad to be a part of the team.” Lucky smiled. This was too good an opportunity for him to pass up. Sosa was giving him a chance to make some real money, not nickel-and-dime him like Turf was trying to do.
Lucky, Sosa, and Hawk stood over by the bar area going over a money scheme that Sosa had up his sleeve. Throughout the mansion the music was blasting, with women everywhere, most of them barely wearing any clothes. Everybody who was everybody was in the mansion, from rappers to prostitutes, from gold diggers to hustlers who had a name for themselves. Even a few athletes were sprinkled around throughout the mansion, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
“This is how we party,” Hawk said, looking over at Lucky, who smiled as the Spanish woman slid down onto his lap and began whispering in his ear.
Sosa smiled as he looked around his mansion. He knew that, in this game, any day could be your last, so every chance he got, he treated himself. He told himself life was too short and since he had the money he might as well use it to his advantage, 'cause once it's over, he wouldn't be able to take none of that money with him. He wanted to enjoy his money, instead of putting some lawyer's whole family through college. Besides, a party never hurt anybody.
Sosa poured himself another glass of Absolut as a nicely shaped white woman with blonde hair made her way over in his personal space.
“What you doing over here all by yourself?” she asked with a million-dollar smile.
“Waiting for you.” Sosa eyed the woman's curves. “What's your name?” he asked, looking in her blue eyes.
“Kimberly.” She had been watching Sosa all night and patiently awaited a chance to talk to him when he was alone.
“So what brings you to my party?” Sosa asked, looking over the rim of his glass.
“One of my girlfriends told me about the party,” Kimberly told him. “But what she didn't tell me was how fine and sexy you were,” she added, openly flirting with the man she had known for less than five minutes.
“Come with me upstairs.” Sosa refilled his glass. “I gotta show you something,” he said, as he led the way upstairs. He reached the top of the steps then walked down the long hallway to the master bedroom.
As soon as the bedroom door closed, Kimberly was all over Sosa. She sloppily kissed his mouth then slowly made her way down to his neck, all the while playing with his dick through his jeans.
Once Kimberly felt what Sosa was working with, she just had to see it up close and in person. She dropped down to her knees like, and began unbuckling Sosa's belt and pants, like she was a fiend. Once she was face to face with his pole, she began sucking on it like she owned it, like she needed to taste it to live. She held Sosa's pipe with one hand, while her other hand massaged her own clit. She moaned while sucking all over Sosa's dick, like it was the best thing her taste buds had ever experienced.
Sosa grabbed a handful of Kimberly's blonde hair and guided her head to the speed he desired with his hand. He looked down at her as he began to stroke her mouth like it was a pussy. The faster he stroked her mouth, the louder she moaned.
After about fifteen minutes of sucking, Sosa wanted to see what Kim's insides felt like. He helped her back up to her feet and ripped her dress off.
Underneath Kimberly wore no panties. She stood in front of Sosa wearing nothing but a pair of heels.
Sosa rolled on a condom and carried her over toward the bed.
“No, no, no,” Kim said. “I want to be on top,” she added, as she straddled him and began to ride and bounce on Sosa's dick like she was riding a horse.
Sosa lay back and sucked all over Kim's breast as she continued to bounce up and down.
 
 
The three vans pulled onto Sosa's property and parked right on the manicured front lawn. Inside the vans were fifteen men.
About forty to fifty guests stood out front just enjoying the night air.
“Look at these clowns,” Major Pain huffed as he pulled his ski mask down over his face.
The door to the van zipped open, and out jumped five masked men, all holding machine guns. Van number two and number three followed the lead of van number one.
Major Pain set it off. He aimed his AK at the guests who stood out front and squeezed on the trigger, waving his arms back and forth, hitting anything moving.
Wolf, Quick, and the rest of the crew ran up in the mansion, followed by the rest of the soldiers. Inside looked like a packed club, that's how many people filled the mansion.
Quick looked over at Wolf then back at the crowd as he squeezed the trigger. Innocent people dropped like flies, while the others desperately ran for their lives.
Major Pain and the rest of the goons entered the mansion and opened fire.
 
 
Lucky sat over in the corner entertaining two women when he heard the gunshots erupt throughout the mansion. He quickly went into survival mode, pulling his .45 from his waistband and sending shots toward the entrance of the mansion, as he weaved through all the people scrambling for their lives.
He looked over and saw Hawk behind the counter loading up his shotgun.
Hawk sprung from behind the counter and let the shotgun bark. He pumped round after round into the chamber and let it blast.
Lucky took out three of the masked men before his gun went empty. He quickly tossed it to the ground as he ran for the door.
Quick watched bodies drop like flies as he moved deeper inside the mansion. He spotted Lucky making a run for the back exit. He could've easily shot him in the back, but instead he spared his friend's life as he reloaded his AK and stuck a fresh clip in the base of the gun.
Major Pain walked throughout the mansion making sure everyone downstairs was dead. He stood over a woman who had a hole in her chest. She was gasping for air as she looked up at him. Her eyes screamed,
Please help.
Major Pain stuck the nose of his AK in the woman's mouth and pulled the trigger.
“Downstairs is clear,” he announced as he led the way upstairs.
Sosa walked around the room fully dressed. The only thing he was missing was his shirt. He poured himself another glass of Absolut. He turned around and saw Kimberly sprawled out across the bed, her heels still on her feet.
“You destroyed my dress,” Kimberly said, placing a cigarette in her mouth. “What am I supposed to wear home?”
Sosa grabbed his shirt from up off the floor and tossed it at Kim's face. “Here. Put that on and get the fuck out,” he said coldly.
“You bastard!” Kimberly spat. “How dare you try and treat me this way!”
Just as Sosa was about to reply, he heard what sounded like gunshots. “Shut the fuck up!” he said to her, holding his finger in the air so he could hear. Seconds later, he heard the sound again. Sosa knew that sound anywhere. Machine guns.
He quickly walked over to his security monitors and turned them on. He looked at the monitors and saw all of his guests scrambling for their lives. He looked at the other monitor and saw Lucky and Hawk returning fire, but they were outnumbered.
“Ay, stay right there!” he said, pointing at Kimberly. He walked over to his gun closet and snatched open the doors. He grabbed the bulletproof vest and strapped it on over his chest. “Bitch-ass niggas wanna run up in my house?” he said to himself as he grabbed the M-16 that rested up on the shelf. Then he grabbed four extra clips and shoved them down in his pocket.
“Where's my vest?” Kimberly asked as the gunshots got louder and louder.
Sosa ignored her last comment as he walked back over to the monitors. One of the gunmen shot out all of the cameras, leaving him looking at a scrambled screen.
“Fuck!” Sosa cursed loudly, trapped inside of a room in a house full of gunmen out looking for his blood. He quickly turned and looked over at Kimberly. “Come here!” he said in a fast-paced voice. “I need you to peek out the door and tell me how close they are.”
“Hell no!” Kimberly said, looking at Sosa like he was crazy. “They'll kill me!”
“I'm not going to let them kill you,” he said. “All I need you to do is peek your head out the door real quick.”
Kim sighed loudly. “Come on, hurry up,” she said, and her and Sosa made their way over to the door.
“On the count of three, I want you to just peek your head out the door real quick, and that's it,” Sosa told her. “One, two, three!” he quickly snatched open the door, and Kimberly poked her head out the door.
Once Kim's head was out the door, Sosa forcefully shoved her into the hallway and slammed and locked the door behind her. A split second later, he heard at least seven different guns going off, followed by Kimberly's scream.
When the gunshots ended, Sosa snatched open the door with his finger on the trigger of his M-16. He watched the bullets from his gun rip three of the gunmen, while the others scattered like roaches trying not to get hit with one of the bullets, which sounded like thunder. Sosa quickly ducked back inside the room and closed the door, as big holes ripped through the door in rapid succession, and bullets turned the door into Swiss cheese.
Major Pain stood with his back up against a wall as he watched Quick, Wolf, and the rest of his goons that were still breathing return fire into the door that Sosa ran behind. Major Pain ran toward the door and kicked it open. He stepped inside and saw Sosa hanging out the window, like he was scared to jump. Major Pain aimed his AK at the window and sprayed it, causing Sosa to jump way sooner than he intended to.
Sosa landed in the bushes and twisted his ankle. “Ahhh shit!” he growled in pain. At that very moment he knew his life was about to come to an end.
Out of nowhere Lucky grabbed Sosa's M-16 from off the ground and aimed it up at the window and squeezed the trigger.
Just as Major Pain was about to look out the window to see where Sosa had landed, a loud series of gunshots caused him to get low as he felt a few bullets whistle past his face. With a hand signal, he ordered the rest of his men to head downstairs.
While Lucky held the gunmen at bay, Hawk helped Sosa up to his feet as he hopped on his good leg to the getaway car he had parked out back for situations like this. Lucky held the M-16 up at the window until Hawk swerved around and beeped the horn.

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