She moaned, leaning back and her long stylish hair getting tangled in my face. I continued kissing her neck, while I slid my hands into her sweats and grabbed her shaven mound. I tunneled two fingers into her tight wet pussy and heard the blissful sounds of thrill escape her sweet lips.
“You miss me,” I whispered affectionately in her ear.
“Yes,” she cried out.
I was so fuckin’ horny with Shae in my arms. Shae reached her arm around me, turning to face me, our lips a breath away. I still was gradually finger fucking her. Her juices poured over my fingers. I squeezed her tit and then we touched lips. Our tongues entwined, kissing feverishly like it was our last. I began fondling her, exploring places that I already discovered, pulling her shirt over her head and having her facing me, with her tits pressed against me. I cupped her ass and removed her sweats.
I was tired of the foreplay. My dick was so hard that it hurt. I pushed Shae down on her back and admired her curvy nude figure for a moment. Then I climbed between her long defined legs, fucking her. Shae indicated
that she wanted it from the back. I quickly flipped her over, had her face down, her ass in an arch, her legs spread. I began slowly until she screamed.
I was deep in her, fucking her doggy-style and playing with her clit. She went crazy, gripping the armrest and throwing that ass back at me.
“Aaaaaahhh….shit,” I exclaimed, enjoying good pussy, her juices all over my dick.
“Fuck me, Vince,” she cried out sliding pussy on me.
I cupped her tit and pushed her down onto her stomach. I had her pressed against me and the couch looking like a sex sandwich. I continued to thrust my erection into her, my dick swollen and ready to nut.
We panted and were sweaty against each other—grinding it out on the leather couch making stains.
“I’m comin’!” I shrieked.
Shae gyrated her ass against me with force. I pulled her close, my chest pressed against her sweaty back, my hands in hers. I thrust, feeling her pussy tightening.
“Fuck me! Oooh…. Fuck me! Oooh…fuck me!” she chanted.
I erupted in her quivering ass. She climaxed with joy. I fell on my back on the floor, dick hard, peering up at the ceiling.
Shae fell down on top of me, and nestled against me. I held her clammy soft figure in my arms and found myself drifting off to sleep.
Next morning I awoke up to Shae massaging my chest. I wasn’t complaining that she was feeling horny again. I was with the program. We were still naked and she straddled me, riding with her hands pressed against my chest. I gripped her ass and threw my head back, feeling her pussy tightening. There was a loud knock at the door.
“What the fuck!”
I ignored it but the knocking continued. Shae jumped off. I found my pants. The loud knocking continued.
“I’m fucking coming!” I hollered.
I glanced through the peephole and saw Lil’ Goon standing in the hallway. I opened my door.
“It’s eight in the fucking morning. Why the fuck you knocking at my door, Lil’ Goon…?”
“Five-o ran up on Soul and the work upstairs,” he answered.
“What the fuck…?”
“They got task force and everything outside,” Lil Goon said.
“Stay right here,” I instructed.
I ran into the bedroom, snatched up whatever clothing I could reach the fastest and ran back out into the hallway with Lil’ Goon. Shae was looking at me dumbfounded. I had no time to explain.
I ran down the stairs with Lil’ Goon right behind me and darted outside into the December cold. The fucking block was shutdown. It looked like a zoo on the block, with the dozen marked blue and white cop cars flooding the block. ESU was out in their full body gear, blue flight vest, tactical weapons and the dogs. A helicopter hovered, giving police a bird’s eye view of the projects from above. Sgt. Manny, the crooked cop Tyriq was paying off walking around with ESU. He saw me and winked.
“Be careful,” he mouthed at me.
I was shocked and also nervous.
Were they coming for me too?
I asked myself. The residents were out in bathrobes, slippers, and coats, being nosey.
“Lil’ Goon what happened?” I asked.
“They got Soul and some bitch when they ran up in the apartment with a warrant. I heard they’re looking for Omega. They say he shot at a cop.”
“Fuck!” I shouted.
Business was fucking slow, now this shit. I retreated to the apartment and informed Shae what went down. She had a nervous look on her face. I told her that they weren’t coming for me.
“How you know? I can’t go through this, Vince,” she stated. “I don’t want any cops charging up in here and scaring my son.”
“Everything gonna be okay, Shae,” I assured her.
“You don’t fucking know that,” she hissed.
“I’m careful, Shae. Don’t fucking beef.”
She looked upset. What happened this morning was out of my hands. I started to get my things together when my cell rang. I looked at the caller I.D. It was Tyriq.
“Yo,” I answered.
“Meet me down at the club in an hour,” he instructed and hung up.
I got dressed and rushed out the apartment without giving Shae a proper goodbye. I was at the club in thirty minutes. Hurrying out my truck, I banged on the entrance. It was early morning and the place was barren. Tip opened the door.
“Go downstairs.”
I moved toward the basement and headed to one of Tyriq’s back offices. I walked in and saw Tyriq sitting in a leather reclining chair staring at some papers. He looked irritated. Tip walked in behind me closing the door. I got nervous but kept my composure.
“I know you heard about this morning,” I said.
“How long we’ve been boys, Vince?” he asked, ignoring what I had said.
“Damn near since we were what…seven, eight years old. Why?”
“Open up your shirt,” Tyriq said harshly, staring at me.
“Fuck is wrong wit’ you?” I asked.
“Open up your fuckin shirt, ayyite Vince,” Tyriq instructed sternly again. This time Tip stood closely behind me in an intimidating posture.
“Yo, Tyriq, what’s good…what the fuck is up wit’ you?”
“Vince, you’re a brother to me, but I’m not gonna repeat myself again,” Tyriq warned.
“You crazy, nigga...?”
I began unbuttoning my shirt, taking it off and tossing it at his feet. I then pulled my wife-beater over my head, showing him that I was clean. And to take it even further, I began unbuckling my belt and was ready to drop my pants to show him that I wasn’t wired up. “You good, nigga!” I barked.
He didn’t answer. I began getting dressed. Tyriq stared at the papers in his hands and I started to wonder what the fuck was up.
“You gonna tell me what this all about,” I said.
Tip took a few steps back from me and I glanced at him over my shoulder. His demeanor was unusually eerie and I hated the way he looked at me.
“What we gonna do about Soul?”
“Soul is the least of our problems.”
“What you mean?”
He passed me the papers and said, “Now is the time to show where your loyalty truly stands.”
I looked at the papers. They were federal documents of a CI that the feds were consulting with for information into the organization. They were trying to put indictments together against Tyriq, his crew and the Jamaicans.
“Where you get these?” I asked.
“Keep reading,” he said.
I read on, looking to see if my name was in the investigation or indictments. My heart began to race, because I knew it was nothing good. I got to the end and saw the name of the CI that the feds were consulting to—with his name at the bottom—Timothy Grant, aka Spoon.
“Get the fuck outta here,” I exclaimed, tossing the document to the floor. “How the fuck you get that info?”
“You pay enough money to the right people and the info falls out,” Tyriq stated.
“Spoon ain’t no snitch, man,” I said.
“Nigga, wake the fuck up. His name is on the fucking papers, right? They flipped him when he got locked up in Connecticut. We don’t know what the fuck he been telling ‘em crackers.”
I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t happening. Tyriq walked up to me and put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.
“I need to know, where you stand on this with us, Vince. Where your head is at?” he asked.
I stared back, teary eyed. The three of us all went back since the days of Krush Groove, when we used to emulate Run-DMC and danced our asses off at neighborhood block parties.
“You know what we gotta do, Vince, right?” Tyriq said gravely.
“Spoon’s fam man…”
“He ain’t family no more. He’s a fucking snitch, ready to bring down his own brothers so he can save his own ass.”
“You sure that’s the shit’s real?” I asked.
“Muthafucka, I got it straight out the hands from the clerk of the DA that’s tryin’ to indict us. We move first, cuz they don’t know we fuckin’ know yet. Are you with us, Vince?”
It was hard to answer. Spoon had my back since we first met. He ate
that charge for me in ’95 so I could attend school. Tyriq was asking me to do the unthinkable—kill a friend, a brother to me. Shit, I was the Godfather of two of his kids.
It had to be done. If the indictments were carried out, that would be the end of everything. There was a possibility of a lengthy sentence for my involvement.
“Vince, You know it’s gotta be done. You with us on this…? I’m shutting everything down. Nothing gets moved unless I say so.”
“What you mean?”
“Business is shut the fuck down. No transactions, no pick ups, no phone use….nada,” he exclaimed.
“What about my Philly connect?”
“Them niggas gonna have a short drought.”
“That’s money lost, Tyriq.”
“I don’t give a fuck…tell your peoples to chill the fuck out and let ‘em know we going through some things for a moment. And if they got a problem with that…then fuck them niggas!” Tyriq shouted.
It was going to be hard to go to tell Inf and his crew that product could be put on hold for a while.
The feds and DEA were hot about the agent’s daughter, Soul was locked up this morning and finding out that Spoon was a fucking snitch. My head was spinning. Christmas was one week away. It looked like things wasn’t about to get very merry for me.
Twenty-Eight
Christmas Eve came and business in the streets was on pause until shit got dealt with. I tried not to be stressed, but knowing that my best friend was a snitch and the feds were watching us, had me feeling like shit.
I had to meet with Inf in Philly and told him what was going on. He didn’t take the news lightly.
“Fuck you mean, a drought,” Inf barked glaring at me, his crew standing behind him.
“Shit’s fucked up in New York, Inf. We ain’t moving shit right now until the heat dies,” I said sternly.
“So y’all niggas fucked up, kill a DEA agent’s daughter, got bitch-ass-niggas running around in N.Y…and you telling me I can’t get any weight next week. I got blocks to supply, nigga.”
“It is what it is, Inf. We ain’t taking any chances.”
“I ain’t trying to fucking hear that ying, Vince. You my connect. Money’s good out here and y’all trying to fuck my shit up!” Inf shouted.
“Calm down, nigga…”
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down when you feeding me bullshit ‘bout some fucking drought.”
“What you want me to do, Inf?”
“Make it right, nigga.”
“I will…I promise you that.”
“Fuck a promise. You gonna make it right. I trusted you to do business. I trusted you with my cousin. She’s having your fucking seed, nigga. You fucked her. Don’t fuck me, Vince.”
“I ain’t…”
“I know you won’t…but check this, follow me my nigga,” he said walking off.
I had followed him into another room. It was big and dark. Inf turned on the lights and I saw two males bonded to a chair, butt-naked and beaten. This is how they resolved situations. Niggas in Philly were beasts.
I knew what was about to happen. Both men had duct-tape over their mouths with their arms tied behind the chairs. They squirmed and mumbled. I wasn’t trying to listen.
Inf walked up to one of the men and said, “You see these niggas right here. They tried to fuck me. This nigga here, stupid muthafucka tried to rob a stash house with his peoples. And this other nigga here, part of a crew that’s trying to move on me. I got enemies, Vince. They waiting for me to fuck up. But I’m gonna show you how I really get down, nigga,” he said.
One of his boys walked up to him and handed Inf a power drill with a long tip. Inf turned it on, while staring at me and said, “We murder niggas out here, in case you forgotten.”
He thrust the power drill deep into one of the man’s knees and drilled through flesh and bones. He pulled it out and began drilling into his other knee. He pulled it out and began drilling into both of his feet. He drilled into the nigga’s thighs, worked his way up to the chest area and finally shoved the drill into the man’s ear. The second victim helplessly watched, awaiting his fate.
There was blood everywhere, but I wasn’t queasy. I just looked on. Inf kicked over the dead man in his chair, and the body dropped heavily to the floor. Inf’s hands were covered with blood and his expression showed wickedness.
Inf stood over his second victim, switched on the power drill again and began torturing his next victim. When he was done torturing and killing the next victim, he kicked the body over and it fell to the floor with a thud.
With the bloody drill still gripped in his hand he walked over to me.
“You see that…I don’t give a fuck. Now Vince, you make it right. I need a shipment soon, cuz I wanna continue to do business with you. You cool peoples, and I don’t want things to get messy. Just because you’re my connect, don’t mean you’re in control.”