CHAPTER 20
A
fter taking that long-ass bus ride Gutta had just pulled out of the rent-a-car lot in a fly all-white Benz truck with his homey Shy riding shotgun. They were cruising through the streets of Dallas taking in all the unfamiliar sights and sounds.
The Harlem nigga inside of Gutta couldn't help but make him think he was the smoothest and toughest gangsta to ever hit Dallas. The thug-hustla in him wanted to take over the town and show these country niggas how it was done.
First things first, he told himself. He could floss around town later, but first he had to settle up some old debts with one of the slickest, grimiest, sexiest broads he had ever met.
The thought of Mink LaRue sent his blood boiling hot. If that greedy bitch thought she was gonna come down here and live it up happily ever after without fearing his consequences, then she had another fuckin' think coming. Shawty had played the fuck outta him. She had dissed him and tricked up his stash like he was one of them weak nigs she ran through out in the streets. Gutta wasn't the type of beast to let even the slightest transgression slide by. Mink had gotten evicted from his apartment and sold off all his furniture while he was doing his bid in prison, and when he finally got a chance to kill her ass she had slipped out of his grasp.
And now, somehow her thirsty ass turned out to be the long-lost daughter of some fucking ga-zillionaires, and she was all on
Okrah
, flossin' and smiling like shit was all gravy. But he was on her ass now and the time was right to catch her out there. Gutta knew a prime opportunity when he saw one, and this was gonna be the perfect lick to get at her throat and get at some cash, all at the same time.
“It's hot as all hell down here, son,” Shy said as he rolled his window down, excited as fuck to be out of New York for the first time in his life. “Yeah, gimme all dis good ol' country air!”
Shy stuck his head halfway out the window and screamed, “Harlem in the muhfuckin' house, ya heard!”
He threw in his Big L CD and turned the speakers on blast. They mighta been in Texas but they still wasn't riding around listening to what nigs in the north called “that country shit.”
Gutta leaned back and pushed the whip, but he couldn't front like he wasn't excited to be outta New York too. He trusted that his young cannon Shy would handle his business when it came time to put that work in, so he let him enjoy this moment freely.
Before violating his parole and breaking up outta Harlem, Gutta had Googled the Dominion family and found out that they lived in a high-end part of town called Mayflower Estates. They were gonna have to do a little foot scouting to get up close on the sick-money crib, but nothing in the world was gonna knock them off their grind or deter the two hungry hood niggas from their mission. They were rolling freely in a new state where nobody knew them, and this alone amped up their determination to get at some big dollars. And to get at Mink's grimy ass, too.
When they drove into the extravagant community of mansions that sat tall and majestic behind securely-locked fancy gates, Gutta and Shy were both in awe. This shit right here was for high mothafuckin' rollers only, and it made Gutta redefine his petty-minded definition of ballin'.
“These bitches look like muh'fuckin' castles,” he said under his breath. He could see why Mink had brought her ass down here to try to gank these fools outta some yardage. This here was the goddamn jackpot! Chit-ching!
“A'ight, it's time to focus yo,” Gutta told Shy as he cruised slowly down the long, winding roads and rolled past golf courses, marinas, and lakes. “We gotta find out which one of these huge fuckin' pads Mink is hiding her ass in. I'm sure it ain't a whole lotta black people living out here so keep ya eyes open.”
The Benz they were pushing had a nice tint on the windows so it was hard to look in and see who was inside. Gutta liked that shit because the last thing he wanted to do was get scoped out and spotted by Mink before he got the chance to lay his plan into action and get his hands around her neck.
“Ayo, G. Slow down a little bit and look at that shit,” Shy said. Gutta hit the brakes as they peeped a gate that had a huge letter D engraved on it.
“Let's pull up on it, bruh,” Shy suggested. “This could be the spot.”
Gutta pulled up to the gate and saw that there was a long plush path leading up to the luxurious mansion.
Damn
, he thought to himself as they sat there staring like tourists. He would love to build one of these mothafuckas right in the middle of the projects. He was street dreaming like a mutha though, because that shit would get robbed and looted from day one, right down to the doorknobs.
“Yo, I got a feeling this is it, man. Their joint looked just like this in the pictures I seen on Google. But we can't sit out here like this,” Gutta said as he peeped the situation. “We stick out like escaped convicts out in this bitch, and these niggas ain't even got sidewalks so we can walk around and case this shit on foot.”
They were turning shit over in their minds trying to figure something out when they saw a sweet Lexus coming down the driveway. Gutta hit the gas and peeled off from the gate and made a U-turn just out of eyesight of the Lexus's driver.
“Dayum,” Shy exclaimed, in awe of the fly whip that had just pulled up in front of the big
D
on the fancy gate. “I wonder who that is in the nice little G-ride, Gutta.”
“I'ono man.”
Gutta waited a few moments as they watched the driver lower the window and push the intercom at the gate and say something they couldn't hear. Moments later the window went back up. The reverse lights lit up and the car backed up a little bit, then turned around and got back on the road and slowly drove away.
“What was that about?” Shy asked.
Gutta shrugged. “Fuck if I know but we 'bout to follow that whip and see where it takes us.”
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Gutta was a master at stalking victims in the streets. He had honed his hunting skills in the concrete jungles of New York City and he was an expert at tracking down big targets. He kept his eyes on the mark as he followed his unidentified prey up and down the streets of D-town, which was known for sippin' lean and riding mean. About half an hour later they followed their mark to a jam-packed mall called the Galleria.
“Oh shit, son! Somebody going shopping B,” Shy said as they pulled into a parking lot a couple of spots away from their target. “That's w'sup 'cause a nigga tryna get fresh. I wanna see what type of style these Texas niggas got.”
They watched as the driver's side door on the Lexus swung open and a sexy-ass honey bun emerged carrying two big shopping bags. She was bright-skinned and slim, but with a phat ass and long, shapely legs. She had on a pair of tiny pink shorts and a tight white tee, and Gutta and Shy were both impressed as they watched her balance in her pink high heels and walk sexily toward the entrance of the mall. Jumping outta the whip, they casually followed her inside and proceeded to shadow her every move.
The mysterious woman went from store to store. Gutta figured she was returning clothes because her big-ass bags kept getting smaller and smaller. After a while she made her way to an expensive jewelry store and that's when Gutta decided to make his move.
“Yo Shy, g-mack for a little bit and do some shopping,” Gutta said as he glanced at his reflection in a store window to make sure his shit was sharp. “I'm 'bout to go holla at shawty and see w'sup with her. If something comes up I'ma hit ya jack.”
Gutta strolled into the jewelry store with a nice hot gwap in his pocket. He walked right past the little light-skinned honey who had her back to him.
She lookin' crazy good, I gotta get at her lil bad ass!
Gutta acted as if he was paying her no mind as he checked out a few iced-out chains, watches, and bracelets.
“Ayo, jeweler,” Gutta said to a short Italian man standing behind the counter as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a fat knot of bills. He'd stolen some loot out of a burning car in Harlem and after washing and drying them shits they smelled like soap powder and were nice and crisp. “I'll take this Hublot Fusion right here with the black diamonds, and whatever this beautiful queen right here wants too. It's all on me. I got it.”
The woman turned around, clearly caught off guard as she looked Gutta up and down with her gorgeous face and pretty eyes. She twisted her mug like
nigga who the hell are you?
Gutta laughed inside because he knew how to ease all that shit up. He stared into her eyes and hit her with the gangsta smile that all the ladies loved.
“That's a nice gesture but I have my own money,” the sexy thing said with a slight attitude. “I don't come cheap and I know nothing in this world is free, so I'm going to respectfully decline. But thank you anyway.”
Gutta nodded. “I expected that,” he said truthfully. “To keep it all the way real with you I was just trying to get your attention. Besides, I can tell a woman with style and grace such as yourself is holding her own. You're right though, nothing in this world is free, but the swag you got baby . . . that's priceless.” He held out his hand. “My name is Gutta by the way.”
She let her face go blank.
Gutta? I know his mama ain't name him no damn Gutta
. She looked him up and down once again. He looked very strong and he came across very confident. Dude had a rough and rugged look about him that was almost kinda criminal, but he was dressed a lot better than any thug she'd ever seen. She stared a little harder. His eyes were intense but his smile was very handsome and it spoke to her. Real loud.
“Nice to meet you,” she said finally, giving up her hand. “I can tell by your accent that you're not from around here, Gutta,” she said, sounding more relaxed. She caught a whiff of his expensive cologne and it tantalized her senses. “Where are you from?”
“I'm from New York City, sugar. Harlem,” Gutta said, maintaining eye contact and stepping closer into her space. “I'm down here with my business partner trying to put a couple of things together. I want to invest in a few companies and see if I can plant my feet down here in D-town. I'm all about handling my business and taking things to another level, you feel me? What about you? What you into pretty lady?”
“I'm a socialite,” she told him, feeling his New York lingo and wondering just how deep his pockets were. She usually went for the square, clean-cut type of dude, but something about this guy was sparking her interest. He looked like he could take a big bite and devour her ass . . . and she liked it.
“I host parties at a lot of clubs and special events,” she lied with a smile. “But my father is in the oil business also so basically I do whatever I want.”
“Well, maybe you could show me around sometime,” Gutta said, making sure she saw his eyes roaming all over her body. “Or you could invite me to the next event you host. I mean, that would only be right since you turned down my gift, ya know?”
They laughed and made more small talk as Gutta counted out the cash for his watch and waited for the jeweler to package it up.
“Sure, I might be able to show you a few places,” the delicious-looking chick said with a grin. “And maybe I'll let you buy me a drink one day since you like to pay for stuff.”
“It's all good baby,” Gutta responded smoothly. “Let's exchange digits and see what we can make happen. By the way what's your name shawty?”
“My name is Pilar,” the sexy socialite with a daddy in the oil business told him. “Pilar Ducane.”
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“Why you gotta go outta town?” I asked Suge with my lip poked out. He had just got his butt back in town a couple of days ago and now he was talking about rolling right back out. I looked out the window as we sped down the highway in his humongous silver monster truck. We had gone out to get some ribs and coleslaw and he was driving me back to the mansion.
I crossed my arms over my titties and frowned as I leaned away from him in my seat. “I'm getting real tired of you running all over the place without me, dude.”
He had the nerve to laugh. “C'mon now, sugar,” he reached out and ran his big old hand down my arm and tried to pull me back toward him. “You knew I was a working man when you met me.” He shrugged like it was a small thing. “It ain't nothing major, sugar. I just got some work to put in.”
I heard what his mouth said but I wasn't tryna believe that shit. For a lil minute now I had been picking up a real shady vibe from ol'Mister Suge and I didn't like it. Ever since he had rolled up to the crib in his so-called “friend's” whip and I pulled all them white-girl hairs outta the carpet, his ass had been numero uno on my suspect list. I mean, we'd be chilling at the mansion one minute and the next second his ass would be flying out the door, gone. Or we'd be out on the town laughing and eating, and then his cell phone would buzz and he would duck somewhere deep in the cut to answer that shit.
I had mad love in my heart for Suge and I knew he was feeling me for-real, for-real too. I hadn't busted him in no outright lies and I couldn't put my finger on nothing specific, and yeah, he still treated me like a queen and sexed me like a fiend, but a rat was stanking up a storm somewhere in Texas and my hood instincts were telling me to keep my guns aimed high.
You better NOT be tryna put no mack game down on me!
I cut my eyes at him and stayed on my side of the monster whip. This fool must didn't know! Suge was all gorilla and his game was gully from head to toe, but when it came to bustin' slick backdoor moves this here shit was a mismatch! I was a
LaRue
, baby, and Mink Minaj had robbed, lied, and cheated on more niggas than a little bit! Hell, it was in my nature to creep and scheme, so I knew it was in a rich nigga's nature too. I'd
better not
find out Suge was tryna roll over me. I would hate it for his ass. I really would!