Authors: Noire
The girl umphed and farted as her eyeballs rolled up in her head. Sallie gut-drilled her again, and the air left her lungs as her stomach caved in and she went limp in her restraints.
Wordlessly, Sallie turned around once more. He swept all three of his wrinkled twenty-dollar bills off the nightstand, then left the disgusting Black whore choking on her own vomit as he walked out the door. His first stop was gonna be the chop shop, and right after that he was heading directly back to the airport.
$$$$$
“No shit?” Mick Sanvenero asked, his liquored-up voice full of respect as he stared at the large metal safe. “Gino left this with you?”
Slick Sallie nodded as he stood in his mother’s basement. It was three o’clock in the morning and he had just dropped Juicy’s car back off at the airport and parked it very close to where he had gotten it from earlier that day.
Mick swigged from his shot glass. “How much loot you figure is in there?”
“Half a mil.” Sallie shrugged. “Probably more.”
Mick whistled. “Damn! Does the broad know you’re busting it? What if she comes back looking for it?”
“She’s not coming back,” Sallie muttered under his breath as he thought about the pipe bomb that had been wired to the ignition switch in Juicy’s sexy green BMW just a couple of hours ago.
After abandoning the dirty moolie prostitute at the motel, Sallie had driven to a chop shop run by a member of the Gambino crime family and watched as an explosive device was placed under the hood of the green beemer and rigged to the ignition of the idling car.
“Whatever you do,” the shop’s owner, Big Earl, had warned him, “don’t cut off the car until you’re ready to get out of it. Because if for some reason you do turn it off and then you try to turn it back on…” The beefy-necked Italian threw his head back and laughed, “Boom! Smithereens! All gone! Both you and the car.”
Sallie had driven straight back to the airport. He’d placed the keys under the floor mat where Juicy had left them, then called his cousin Mick for a ride home.
“You’re really gonna crack that shit?” Mick asked as Sallie studied the physical mechanisms of the safe. “I thought Uncle Frankie told everybody to stay cool with the chick?”
Sallie shrugged. Fuck Frankie and all his talk about La Cosa Nostra, respect, honor, and the old ways. It pissed Sallie off that they had run outta New York City like mutts with their tails tucked between their legs. Instead of running scared, they should have swissed somebody’s fuckin’ cheese and left a bunch of bullet-dotted bodies on the ground behind them.
“Yo, Sallie,” Mick whined again. “You’re pretty sure Juicy isn’t gonna come back blabbing to nobody that we did this, right buddy?”
Sallie gave his cousin a long, hard stare. Mick was slow, and he was a scary little shit too. But he was faithful and loyal, and Sallie knew his cousin would die before he snitched on him.
“I already told you she’s not coming back, Mikhail,” Sallie assured him. And then he whispered under his breath, “Because if she comes back…BOOM! She’s dead.”
$$$$$
Three hours later the sun was just about to come up and Mick was leaning against a wine barrel fast asleep. Sallie was covered in sweat, and Gino’s safe sat battered and hacked at, but still firmly intact in the middle of the floor.
No matter which way Sallie had tried to breach the damn thing, through the locking mechanism or by cutting into its iron core, he couldn’t get to the money inside to save his life.
Wiping his face, Sallie remembered a strange telephone call he had received about eight months earlier. An old business partner from New York had been on the line asking him to help stash something Gino needed to hide.
Sallie had owed his moolie friend a solid in a major way, so he had agreed. But now, sitting in a pile of metal shavings with his hands so damn ripped up that they were starting to bleed, Sallie couldn’t help but laugh.
He was almost positive that his old friend had predicted his greed, and had helped Gino find a fuckin’ safe that was stronger than Fort Knox.
Sallie shook his head. There was more than one way to crack a nut. Nothing was impossible, and there was a whole lotta money in that goddamn safe. He could practically smell it. And as soon as he came up with a way to bust that baby open, every dime of it was gonna be his.
CHAPTER 9
I had been in jail for less than twenty-four hours and I was already desperate to get the hell out. It felt like I had just drifted off to sleep good when I was awakened by the sound of the COs stomping up and down the hall and hollering for everybody to get up. I dragged myself to my feet and we went through the same type of headcount that we’d gone through several times the day before, and as I would learn, we would go through every single day that our asses belonged to the Department of Correction in the City of New York.
Day two was no better than day one. Most of the women who were in with me looked desperate and beaten down by life. There were no ax-murderers, terrorists, or corporate white-collar criminals that I could see. Just a bunch of tired-looking minority females who had fallen down on their luck and landed flat on their asses.
After breakfast, they made me line up with a bunch of other women. We watched as a chain-gang of busted-looking hoes, junkies, winos, and thieves were led staggering off a bus and into the building. They were handcuffed one to the next, and the bored-to-death guards were screaming at them to shut the hell up and stay in one straight line.
We took some mug shots, and then we were all taken to an infirmary area where they made us sit in some kind of body-scanning chair that x-rayed our insides to make sure we weren’t bringing in contraband in our coochies or up our butts.
“Williams!” one of the COs barked as she looked down at a clipboard. She was a real cute chocolate-skinned sister and her navy-blue uniform fit her curves like a cat suit. “You were supposed to come through here yesterday,” she bitched at me. “How come you’re just getting in here today?”
I shrugged with my eyes popped open wide. Shit, I wasn’t no career criminal! I didn’t know none of the jailhouse rules! Besides, I wasn’t in charge of myself. Cause if I was, I woulda given myself a mandatory phone call and let myself out the side fuckin’ door!
The tall Black female CO that I’d seen the day before was all over it.
“I got her,” she said, quickly. She reached for my arm and led me toward another line. “There was a mix up with her paperwork but we’re fixing it right now.”
The nametag on her uniform said Gaines, and she had been outside with the white guy, CO Allen, who had made me give him my money when I came in the door.
“Don’t say shit,” she whispered me a warning. “Just roll with everybody else.”
The next thing they did was give me a physical exam where I peed in a cup and let them take my blood. They said they were testing me for pregnancy, HIV, and a bunch of other diseases.
I got to see a mental health counselor after that.
“Are you having thoughts of suicide?”
“No.”
“Do you feel like hurting yourself or anyone else?”
I stared at her. Damn straight I wanted to hurt some fuckin’ body. Rita! But if I told this chick how I really felt she would send the people in the white coats to get me. Instead, I told her about the shady way my arrest had gone down.
“I don’t think they did me right,” I said.
“Who?”
“The cops who arrested me.”
“Did they abuse you, physically, emotionally, sexually, or otherwise?”
“No, but I never even went to a precinct. They brought me straight here from the airport. They didn’t even read me my rights.”
She sighed, and I saw a little smirk on her lips.
She thought I was mental.
“Our officers are professional. Every inmate they arrest is read their Miranda rights. That’s the law.”
“Well, they didn’t read me mine. I never got to make a phone call neither.”
The smirk grew bigger as she scribbled something in my chart.
“And, nobody asked me if I wanted a lawyer.”
She put her pen down and folded her hands on her desk. She shook her head and her Black Diamond hairweave moved like feathers below her jaw line.
“So, your complaint is that you were arrested without being read your rights, you were refused a telephone call and denied access to legal counsel?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “And I came in here with two-hundred grand in cash on me too.”
Now she really smirked. This chick was used to dealing with drug addicted, mentally ill inmates who worked the system and lied and boosted for a living. She gave me the bitch-you-are-deranged look, and let out a big sigh.
“I’ll be sure to annotate all that in your chart,” she said, waving me off and beckoning to the chick behind me. “Next!”
As the day went on I noticed there was a big difference between how the male COs treated us and how the females did. Mostly all of us were either Black or Puerto Rican, including the guards. The male officers in here were just like men everywhere. The only difference was they wore a uniform and a badge, and were paid to keep us in check.
But they were still doggish. They stared at our asses and our breasts, and the look in their eyes was the same universal look you could find in any man’s eyes if he wanted to fuck you.
The female guards were special though. These chicks were steady flossing and flouncing. Letting the inmates know without a doubt that they had it all over us, and that free pussy trumped jailhouse pussy seven days a week.
I didn’t give it no energy. I just kept my mouth closed and did whatever they told me to do because I wasn’t trying to get yelled at by none of these power-tripping tricks and get thrown in the hole.
But what I was trying to do was figure out a way to get the hell out of here. Even with my tiny bit of jailhouse knowledge I knew something wasn’t right about the way things had gone down. And it wasn’t just about Rita and the way she got me knocked, neither.
The CO who brought me in had told me it would be a couple of weeks until I went before the judge. I was so torn down that I’d lose my mind if I had to stay locked up in here for that long. Weeks were definitely out of the question. I couldn’t see myself handling this shit for too much longer. Not even for another day.
CHAPTER 10
Chiney Jackson was getting her lower-lips glossed. The cum-slick face of her jailhouse lover was buried deeply between her thighs, and Chiney shuddered with pleasure as her engorged clit was tongued with hot passion.
“Just like that,” Chiney whispered as she threw her head back and rotated her pussy all over the girl’s wet mug. They were in a corner of their cell and she was standing with her back pressed against one wall, and her leg propped up on the wall opposite her. They had skipped their shower so Chiney could get her a little quickie, but this bitch ate pussy so good Chiney didn’t ever want it to end.
Her lover slipped her middle finger deep into Chiney’s twat. Chiney reached down and pushed her hand away. She was the type of stud who didn’t require penetration in order to cum. She preferred to have her top done, her knob slobbed, her mannish lil dick sucked.