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Authors: Sa'id Salaam

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BOOK: Trap House
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The prison took a headcount every four hours. That was the only time the correction officers
ever came in. The inmates had from count to count to do whatever they wanted to do.

“Yeah, Ima fuck dat lil nigga real good,” Willie B announced eagerly. He had been locked up
since age ten and had never been with a woman, yet even though the only pussy he ever had was
boy pussy, he didn’t think of himself as gay.

Lil Red hated the homosexual culture of the prison system, but he intended to let Willie B rape
Marcus as part of the torture. They would have four hours with him, and he didn’t plan to kill
Marcus until the last moment. They recruited another one of their homeboys to take part in the
murder.

When the time came, Marcus’s cellmate was lured out before the trio rushed in. Marcus was
busy arranging his locker box when he was attacked.

As Lil Red and Shakey pummeled Marcus, Willie B undressed. “Strip dat ho,” Willie B ordered,
stroking his erection with vigilance.

Marcus soon found himself tied, face down, on the bunk. He screamed in vain through the gag
as Willie B climbed on top of him. Marcus’s screams became shrill as Willie B pushed inside of
him.

Lil Red turned away, disgusted, as Shakey watched curiously.

“Kill me! Jus’ kill me!” Marcus begged.

Meanwhile, Willie B was having the time of his life. He wished he was alone with his prey and
wished he had more time with him. He wanted to make love to Marcus, to flip him over and fuck
him face to face and kiss him in the mouth.

A strange thing happened as Marcus was being raped. He finally managed to work the gag free
from his mouth, but instead of screaming, he laughed.

“That fuck nigga like dat shit!” Lil Red yelled, enraged that the dude they were supposed to be
torturing and killing was having fun. “I’m finna murk dis nigga,” he said, stepping forward.

Marcus had been diagnosed as HIV positive, and he loved the fact that he was at least going to
be taking one of them with him.

Willie B knew his time was up and finished up with a quick thrust. He rolled of just as Lil Red
and Shakey began beating Marcus with the padlocks tied to their belts.

After bludgeoning Marcus to death, they slid his body under the bed, where it wouldn’t be
seen until the next count came up short two hours later. Willie B missed his new lover already and
thought about him as he sucked on a cigarette.

On four life sentences, Marcus served just under four months, and finally, he was a free man.

EPILOGUE

 

“Y
es, dear?” Fatima sang to her husband as they drove along the interstate.

“Yes what?” Ali asked, puzzled by the statement. “I ain’t call you.”

“I coulda sworn…never mind,” she replied, feeling a little silly. She was sure she had heard her
name called.

“Tiffany!”
the voice called again, louder this time.

“No! Leave me alone!” Tiffany screamed as she realized who was calling her.

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” Carlos asked, rubbing his free hand on her protruding belly.

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Tiffany stammered, embarrassed by the outburst. She smiled and placed
her hand on top of his as their son kicked inside of her.

“You can’t ignore me forever,”
the demon said with a chuckle.
“I’ll be waiting...”

the end

 

>

 

 

I

 

F
ive years ago, my world was turned upside down when my father, Lavelle Brown (a.k.a.
“Lucifer”) escaped from prison, where he was supposed to be serving a life sentence. I
was not overjoyed with this news, nor did I experience any of the overwhelming emotions that I,
a diehard Daddy’s girl from the cold streets of Detroit, had always imagined I would for the years
I had patiently awaited his return. Through an unlikely source, I found out that my father was
no longer the man I thought I knew. I learned that he’d hired a hit man to kill my drug-addicted
mother, Lena, whom he had married straight out of high school after what he thought was love at
first sight. He later put a hit on my older sister Kierra, who had also become a crack-addicted dope
fiend after the horrific experience of finding our mother’s dead body stuffed in a box and tossed out
with the trash that was waiting to be collected on pick-up day. On one of Kierra’s binges, she had
stolen some money from a guy that ran one of Lucifer’s trap houses with the help of her lowlife
boyfriend Peanut to pay off another dealer for the debt she created with him by smoking up his
shit.

Instead of Kierra getting what she had coming to her, my baby sister Tori, who was only fourteen
at the time, was the unlucky one to catch that bullet. She was simply in the wrong place at the
wrong time, and to top things off, that son-of-a-bitch also tried to kill me. I know you probably
can’t believe what I’m saying. Hell, if I wasn’t there myself, I probably wouldn’t believe it either,
but every word of it is true—and it only got worse. One of the contract killers my father hired to
take us out was the love of my life, Jermaine Williams, a.k.a. “Maine.” That’s fucked up, ain’t it!

See, it all started after Tori was killed. I felt alone because I had no one, and I felt the dope
game was responsible for it, at least in some fashion. I had to do something about it, so I did
what I thought was best. I took to the streets with one thing on my mind: to shut down the game
one dope dealer at a time! The only way for me to work my plan was to become a major player
on these mean and corrupt Detroit streets. I had an Italian connect named Frankie, whom I knew
from my days working as a call girl, and he supplied me with the best product for the low-low.
I operated under the alias “LB” instead of my government name, Lovely Brown, for obvious
reasons. Besides, women get no love or respect in the game, and I didn’t need my girly name
giving me away. Whoever said “It’s a man’s world” sho nuff wasn’t lying!

My team consisted of me; Meechie, an old-school nigga who knew his shit; my play brother,
Do It; and his chick, who was also my good friend, White Girl. On top of that, we had the help of
a few other niggas from ‘round the way. Our shit was solid, and we were bringing in more money
in one hour than some could imagine getting in their lifetime. Our days consisted of poppin’ tags
and livin’ the good life, and our nights consisted of scratching names off our list and shuttin’ shit
down. Everything was everything, but not everything was gravy, because while on our mission,
we ended up making enemies with the Feds for our drug empire and massive income. That wasn’t
a huge shocker, but it was a minor setback. At the same time, we were placed on Lucifer’s shit list
for being in the way when he broke out of prison, ready to reclaim his throne as king of the streets,
and we also managed to piss off the mafia, who placed a million-dollar bounty on my head for
some shit I didn’t even do. Like I said, everything was not gravy.

When shit started getting crazy, I was ready to bounce and put Detroit in my rearview mirror,
but after all my trap houses and stash houses were robbed simultaneously, I needed just one last
package to make some more money to get me wherever it was I was going. I called Frankie and
was sent to pick up the package from his nephew, but when I got there, the entire place was shot
up, and everyone inside was dead! Somebody had set me up! They wrote “LB” on the wall in blood
and stole a million dollars from the safe as well. I hauled ass to get out of Dodge, but my plan was
stalled when my play brother, Do It, who was my driver and my right-hand man, went missing and
White Girl went into premature labor. I couldn’t leave Detroit without my people. Before I took
off, I was going to find Do It no matter what, and we would snatch White Girl up and hit the road.
Of course, my plan was derailed again, because right in the middle of all the chaos and confusion,
I received a phone call from someone who demanded I say my last words to my brother. Not a
word had left my mouth before I heard the two shots popping off on the other side of the phone,
and then my phone died. Although my heart wouldn’t let me believe the obvious, my mind told me
my brother, a die-hard nigga that had been around me my whole life, was gone and never coming
back.

Figuring that no one was safe around me, I decided to leave White girl in the hospital. I would
have died if something happened to her or my little niece in the womb, who was already fighting
for her life. I needed some getaway money, so I made a stop at my office because I was sure I had
a nice stash of cash in my floor safe; as luck would have it, I was right. I loaded the duffel bag like
a mad woman and was caught off guard by my sister Kierra, who I almost shot, thinking that she
was an intruder. Earlier that day, I had seen her down at the hospital while I was visiting White
Girl. She said she had something important to tell me that just couldn’t wait, so I told her to meet
me in the office. In all the melee, I guess I had forgotten that.

She ended up confessing to me that she led those killers to my house, but she swore it was not
on purpose. She said she had hit a lick and wanted to do something nice for Tori, so she broke into
my apartment put money on Tori’s bed, then slipped out quickly. She didn’t know she was being
followed by the men who were hired to take her life—a result of that same lick she had just hit.
The men waited inside my apartment, ready to do some damage, thinking Kierra would return
shortly—but I don’t have to tell you how that story ended.

BOOK: Trap House
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ads

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