Baltimore Chronicles (4 page)

“Whatever. I'll be here. Yeah, sure,” Danielle said, grabbing her purse and heading out the door.

Danielle rushed up the street, switching her hips as hard as she could. She smirked to herself at all of the catcalls she received from the little hood-rat dudes in her neighborhood.

“Yo, Dani, I will fuck those poom-poom shorts right off that fat ass,” a little corner boy called out.

“Nigga,
pa-lease
! I fucks with real hustlers. Hand-to-hand is played out!” Danielle screamed, craning her neck in true ghetto-girl fashion.

She finally made it to the end of the block, where she spotted the person she was expecting to meet. Her heart jumped in her chest. He was so damn sexy. Danielle let a smile spread across her face at the sight of the gleaming silver Benz S550 he sat in. She rushed over to the passenger side and slid in.

“Damn, baby girl! You got my shit on wood with them li'l shorts,” Sticks said, licking his lips.
I have something for this little hottie
, he thought to himself.

“Two weeks and you can't handle seeing me in shorts?” She leaned over to kiss her new man.

Everybody in Baltimore knew Sticks was down with the Dirty Money Crew, including Danielle and her little friends. But she was so excited when Sticks had stopped her in a party. In fact she felt extra special that he had chosen her out of all the girls in the club that night. Sticks had told her she reminded him of Lauren London, a comment she got all the time, but coming from him, it made her blush.

That night Danielle gave Sticks her number. Her best friend Veronica had stayed up with her all night waiting for him to call, but he never did. Three days had passed, and Danielle had gotten a little depressed. Then, when she least expected it, Sticks showed up at her high school. It just so happened, that day she'd decided to attend classes. She'd rolled her eyes at him and told him off.

Sticks laughed at her and told her he liked the way she looked when she was mad. He grabbed her hand and led her to his car. He started calling her every day since.

“Where you wanna go, mami? The world is yours,” Sticks said, tossing a money stack into her lap.

Danielle's eyes lit up. She didn't want to seem too thirsty by picking up the stack and counting it, but she wanted to so badly. “I wanna be wherever you are. We could sit in this car all night and I'd be happy,” she replied.

That's exactly what Sticks wanted to hear. He liked the little pretty girl, but he also had bigger plans for her. Before he put her to work, he wanted to run up in that fat ass. He took her to get something to eat at Ruth's Chris, one of his favorites.

 

Danielle had never been to a real restaurant like that. The closest she'd come was when her sister had taken them out to eat at the local Olive Garden.

“Thank you for dinner, baby. I really appreciate everything you do for me.” Danielle smiled, causing her deep dimples to show.

“Yo, ma, you know I keep it one hun'ed, right?” Sticks asked, his tone serious.

“Yes. Why? What's the matter?”

“I want you, ma. I know I said I wanted to wait until you was seventeen and shit, but I think a nigga fallin' for you.”

“Ohhh, Sticks, I already fell for you,” Danielle said, leaning over into the driver's seat so she could kiss him.

“Come home with me.”

“Okay. Anything for you.” Danielle had never felt the warm feeling she was feeling inside right now.
It must be love
, she thought.

Sticks knew as soon as he gave Danielle a taste of the dick, her young mind would be his to mold.

He and Danielle entered the doors to his luxury condo wrapped together. They were in a tangle of arms and legs, kissing and licking each other hot and heavy.

Danielle straddled Sticks around the waist, and he held onto her plump ass. As Sticks carried her up the stairs toward the bedroom in a rush, they thrust their tongues down each other's throats. Her breathing was labored, her heart hammering against her chest bone, and her ears were ringing, she was so excited. See, Danielle had only had sex with two other guys, and they were young boys, so she was scared to death.

Sticks lay her on the bed and started kissing her bare butter-colored thighs. Her shorts were hitched up so far into her crotch, she had a serious camel toe. The sight turned Sticks on immensely.

Danielle's thighs trembled. No matter how hard she tried to control her nerves, she couldn't. Sticks licked down her thighs to her calves. Then he lifted one of her legs and licked behind her knee, sending needle pricks all over her body.

“Mmmm,” she moaned.

Like an expert, Sticks stealthily removed her shorts before she even knew what had happened. He stared down at her young, fresh, pink, unblemished flesh. “That's a pretty pussy,” he grunted as he slid his hands up her shirt and pulled it over her head. He unsnapped her bra with one hand as he kissed her deep.

Danielle felt so hot, she thought she would explode. She didn't know what to expect, but she knew she wanted it badly. She just wanted Sticks to keep touching her and taking her.

When Danielle was fully naked, Sticks got off the bed and stood up to look at her. He stared at her like she was a fine meal that he was about to devour.

Danielle had her eyes closed. When she didn't feel him anymore, she opened them. “What's the matter?” she asked, closing her legs.

“Nothing, ma. I just wanted to admire your beauty. You are really gorgeous.” Sticks didn't tell many chicks they were gorgeous, but Danielle really was. Her skin was smooth and seemingly untouched. He thought she looked so pure, unlike some of the scarred-up, sagging-tit chicks he fucked with normally.

Sticks removed his clothes and climbed back onto the bed. He placed his mouth over hers, and they kissed again. This time it wasn't wild and lustful, but slow and steady. It made Danielle feel loved.

While he kissed her, Sticks used his knee to part her trembling legs. He grabbed his rock-hard dick and guided it to her flesh, making Danielle jump.

“I'm not gonna hurt you,” he said. Then he gently entered her.

“Aghhh!” she gasped. A sharp pain shot through her pelvis.

Sticks moved in and out of her slowly at first. His eyes popped open from the feeling he got from her body. He was shocked. He didn't expect her pussy to be so tight. She really felt like a virgin. Sticks was even more enamored with her now.

“Aghhh, aghhh!” Danielle grunted, biting down into her lip.

The sounds of her moans, and the suction Sticks felt from her tight walls made his head spin. He pulled out of her to keep himself from busting a nut.

“C'mere,” he whispered. After pulling Danielle up off the bed, he lay down and guided her on top of him.

She straddled him and sat down on his dick. “Aghhh!” she screamed out from the pain. Paralyzed with pain, she wasn't ready to take all of his thick, long tool.

Sticks grabbed onto her hips and guided her up and down on him, until she started feeling more pleasure than pain. “That's it, ma. Slow and steady. You like this dick, or you love it?”

“I love it!!” Danielle screamed. “I love you!!”

Sticks didn't return the four-letter word, but he was damn sure glad she had said it. He could feel the nut welling up inside of him. He began pumping his hips, causing Danielle to bounce up and down. Her titties bouncing in his face was turning him on even more. He lifted his head slightly and took a mouthful of one of her nipples.

“Oh, yes!” she screamed.

Sticks sucked hard and fucked her even harder. He felt it welling up. He moved faster. Faster.

“Aghhhh! I feel something!” Danielle hollered. She had never had an orgasm. The feeling busting through her loins made her pump on the dick even harder and faster. She didn't feel pain anymore, just pure, hot, wet pleasure.

“Uggghhh!” Sticks growled, his body stiffening and jerking as he released his hot load.

Danielle felt his liquid dripping back out of her. She was too hot and too in love to think about any consequences. “Oh my God,” Danielle cried, and she lay on top of Sticks' perfect chest.

Sticks was silent, his usual manner when thinking hard. He couldn't believe this little, inexperienced girl wound up giving him the best sex he'd ever had.

Derek felt like he had eaten a jar of paste. His mouth was dry, and his throat ached. He swallowed hard, trying to fight his nerves as the court officers led him into the courtroom. He had almost shit on himself when his lawyer came to the court cells earlier that day to tell him that the jury had reached a verdict in his trial. Derek knew a fast verdict like that could go either way, for conviction or acquittal. He could only pray that the jury was made up of reasonable citizens who would take into account his service to the community and city of Baltimore.

As he was led in, Derek saw Archie's whole family seated in the front of the courtroom. His wife, kids, and parents were all there waiting to see justice being served. Derek's heart jerked in his chest. He still couldn't believe everyone would actually think he had something to do with Archie's murder. Derek was an usher in Archie's wedding; he'd brought the entire DES hand-rolled cigars when Archie had his first baby. He thought it was just crazy that none of those facts was allowed to be brought out during the trial. Instead, the prosecutor's office had made Derek out to be a demon who killed to cover up his misdeeds, painting him as a lowlife that worked for the very criminals he was supposed to be putting away.

Although Derek had gotten into some dirty shit with Scar, he would never kill one of his own men. No one knew the reason he worked with Scar. Scar was his baby brother. Derek normally hated drug dealers and what they stood for, but he'd made a promise to his mother to always take care of Scar. He had taken that promise to heart, and now it had landed him in hell.

Embarrassed, nervous, and angry, Derek averted eye contact with any of the other Maryland state troopers in the courtroom, including Chief Hill and Rodriguez. The walk to his seat felt like an eternity. He took his spot behind the defense table and sat down. The lights in the courtroom felt super bright, as if a huge stage spotlight was shining right on him. The air in the courtroom seemed so thick and stale, Derek felt like he'd suffocate. To get some relief, he adjusted his tie to get some air.

Derek couldn't help but think the worst. He was going to jail for life. He said a silent prayer. He could feel sweat sliding down his forehead, dampening the underarms of his shirt. As the news cameras rolled, he swore he could feel the heat of the entire world's eyes on him through the camera lenses. He was usually cool under pressure, but at this moment he thought he was about to lose it completely. The tension was too much. He wasn't sure he would be able to handle life in prison, especially for something he wasn't guilty of. His fate was in the hands of the jury now.

“All rise. The Honorable Judge Irvin Klein presiding,” the court officer called out.

The sound of wood creaking and bodies shifting seemed unnervingly loud to Derek as everyone in the courtroom stood up. Once the judge was behind the bench, everyone took their seats again.

“Remain standing, Mr. Fuller,” Judge Klein instructed. “We might as well get this over with as quickly as possible.”

Derek felt his legs weaken then buckle. He took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, which didn't work.

“Jury, have you reached a verdict in the matter of the State of Maryland versus Mr. Derek Fuller?” the judge asked.

A sickening hush fell over the room, and Derek's stomach let out a loud growl. He had nervous bowel syndrome. He hunched over slightly, which was all he could do to keep himself from throwing up or shitting on himself.

“We have, Your Honor.” The jury foreman, a rail-thin white man who'd been a military police officer, stood up slowly.

Derek's defense attorney had tried to dismiss the man during voir dire, arguing that he would be prejudiced and overly sensitive to a police murder, but the prosecutor had fought to keep him and won.

“Jury, what say you?” Judge Klein asked, looking over the edge of his wire-rimmed glasses at Derek.

“As to count one of the indictment, murder in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant guilty,” the foreman read.

Derek's legs buckled, and he fell back into the hardwood chair.

The courtroom erupted in pandemonium. Cameras zoomed into Derek's face as he sat there in shock. His worst nightmare had come true. Archie's wife cried out in part joy and part agony, while other officers in the room began cheering and jeering.

The court officers rushed over to Derek and grabbed him up out of the chair. At first he put up no fight, but then, suddenly, flashes of anger sparked through him. He knew he didn't stand a chance at sentencing.

“I gave my life for this fucking city! I am a cop and this is how you mu'fuckas repay me? I was the one who gave the DA details about Scar Johnson! I'm innocent, you bastards! Can't you see this is a setup? I didn't kill Archie! I didn't kill anyone!!” Derek screamed as the court officers manhandled him, thrashing against their grasp violently. He wasn't going down without a fight. “You all will regret this shit! I'm fucking innocent!”

The court officers finally got him into a tight arm bar and forcefully removed him from the courtroom, but Derek continued his rant, which fell on deaf ears. The entire city of Baltimore had pegged him as a cop killer.

Chief Hill smiled and gave Rodriguez a pat on her back. “I guess you did it,” he said, chuckling a little.

A pang of guilt flitted through Rodriguez's stomach. She knew, without the evidence she had planted, Derek's attorney would have been able to establish reasonable doubt in the case. She hung her head in shame. Here it is, one of her fellow officers was just falsely convicted of killing one of his peers, and their fucking chief was celebrating. The department was being racked with corruption and disloyalty, and she didn't know who to trust anymore. She really believed some criminals were more loyal than some cops.

When Chief Hill had threatened to blackmail her, Rodriguez got a harsh reality check that every cop had a price, that in Baltimore, dirty justice was up for sale to the highest bidder.

Thinking about the money, Rodriguez looked down at her Bulova watch. She had to meet up with one of Scar's workers for her final payment. Part of her agreement with Scar was, if Derek was convicted, she would get an extra fifty thousand dollars. Yes, she felt bad about Derek getting convicted, but she still felt like she needed to look out for number one. She damn sure wasn't about to turn down an extra fifty grand because Derek pissed off the wrong people. Rodriguez just figured she played the game better than he did, and she wasn't about to try and change a system that had been in place for years before she came around and would still be in place after she left. But after this she was done. The guilt she felt wasn't worth the money. She had enough and was ready to get out of the corruption game. She told herself that after she collected the money she would not play on Scar's team anymore. She had other plans for her life, including trying to be a good daughter and big sister. She was the leader of her family.

Rodriguez rushed out of the courthouse. She wanted to pick up her loot and then go pick up Danielle.
Maybe I'll take her shopping to celebrate,
she thought.

Rodriguez definitely knew a little something about the hard-knock life. When their mother had escaped their abusive father and ran to Maryland from New York, all she had was her children and the clothes on her back. Being Puerto Rican down in the South wasn't easy. Her mother did odd jobs cleaning people's houses and waiting tables part-time, to take care of her children the best she could. The entire family was teased and ridiculed for being Hispanic, including Rodriguez, who worked little odd jobs as a kid and through high school to help her mother out. When she decided to join the police force, it was as if she had struck gold. They were used to living piss-poor, so having a stable income, no matter how modest, was better than living paycheck to paycheck from dead-end jobs.

Just thinking about the turn her life was taking made Rodriguez angry with herself. She swore that this was going to be the last crooked thing she did.

Her mind heavy, Rodriguez drove up to the new warehouse where Scar's new crew of young gunners had set up shop. She felt more comfortable coming to the deserted warehouse because it was on the outskirts of the city, and since it was a new spot for the crew, the police didn't know about it yet. So she didn't have to worry about anyone associating her with drug dealers.

She picked up her cell and sent a cryptic text to the phone number Sticks had provided her. It was a code to let Sticks know she was outside to collect her money. While waiting, she heard,
Bang! Bang!

Rodriguez almost jumped out of her skin. Someone had banged on her car window. Inhaling deep and exhaling slow, she tried to calm the thundering in her chest. She was finally able to control her trembling hand long enough to press the window button.

“Why the hell are you sneaking up on me like that?” She touched her gun for assurance.

“I just like fucking with you, that's why,” Sticks said, cracking up like he was watching the funniest comedy show. “Ay, yo!” He called out a little code he and the crew used, and suddenly the iron gate to the warehouse slowly began rising.

Rodriguez put her car in park and stepped out. As she got closer, she heard rap music blaring and could smell the weed smoke coming from inside the warehouse. There had to be about twenty guys in the warehouse. Some were at a table counting money, some were bagging drugs, while some were in different stages of sexual acts with girls. But most of them were standing guard with huge assault weapons in hand.

Rodriguez thought it was a shame the way Scar was leading the youth of Baltimore astray. Almost none of the Dirty Money Crew members were older than seventeen, because Scar knew that meant they would be charged as minors for most of the crimes they'd commit. Rodriguez felt like shit inside for being a part of the city's destruction.

“Yo, Trail, get this bitch her pay,” Sticks ordered.

Trail gritted his teeth. He fucking hated that Sticks tried so hard to act like Scar, ordering him around like they hadn't started out together on the same level. Sticks was taking this stand-in role as leader to the head, and Trail was growing more and more fed up by the day. Trail walked slowly to retrieve the money.

Rodriguez looked around. She thought back to a time when she was running up in a spot like this, taking everybody to jail. She scanned the room in disbelief, and then she spotted someone, which almost made her faint. She squinted and blinked her eyes, thinking that they were deceiving her.
That can't be her,
she thought to herself.

Just then Danielle rose up from the chair and turned around. “Baby, I'm done with this stack,” she yelled to Sticks. She locked eyes with Rodriguez, and she stopped breathing for a minute. Then she started coughing.

Rodriguez let an evil look take over her face as she stared at her, and Danielle quickly turned around and walked in the opposite direction of where her sister stood. She was shocked to see Rodriguez there. Rodriguez was equally shocked, but she knew she would risk putting Danielle in grave danger if she grabbed her up like she wanted to. That would give the impression that Danielle was affiliated with law enforcement and put her in harm's way. Rodriguez was fuming inside, and she couldn't stop staring at her little sister.

“See something you like over there? I didn't know you liked to lick pussy. Yeah, you look like one of them dike bitches,” Sticks said.

Rodriguez snapped out of her trance. “No, I'm just admiring how you are keeping stuff together while Scar is away,” Rodriguez fabricated on the spot.

Just as she said that, Trail returned with a small knapsack and threw it at her feet. “Fifty, like Scar told you,” Trail said dryly, quickly turning his back and walking away.

Danielle sat down on one of the couches and looked her sister up and down. She put her head to the side and twisted her lips.
I can't believe her ass is a dirty cop. Oh, I'ma have a field day with her paper now
.
She gonna pay me. I betcha Mama don't know about this,
she thought to herself.

Danielle knew she could never let Sticks find out she was so closely related to Rodriguez. Being down with a cop?something she would never reveal to the crew?was a sure way to get herself killed. Especially with the big day they'd all been planning for coming up. It was going to be Danielle's chance to finally establish herself and get out from under her sister's controlling ass. After their upcoming lick, Danielle figured she would get enough money that she wouldn't have to spend time with her lame-ass sister. She would be able to support herself and buy herself all the fly shit she wanted.

Rodriguez took one last look at Danielle before she turned to leave. Danielle saw her looking, so she got up, walked over to Sticks, and began tonguing him down. She wanted her sister to know she was grown, that she was establishing her own independence.

 

Back in her car, Rodriguez slammed her hands on the steering wheel. She was livid. How could Danielle be so stupid, getting involved with a crew of criminals? She was even more mad at herself. She had sold her soul to the devil, and now the role model she tried to portray to her impressionable sister was shattered.

“She can't be involved with Scar's crew,” Rodriguez mumbled to herself. “I will put a stop to this shit.”

It took her a while to pull out. She kept contemplating getting out of her car, storming back into the warehouse, and snatching Danielle out of there by her hair. She could picture herself shaking her until her damn brain stem came loose. She was just that angry.

Finally, Rodriguez rationalized that it would be way too dangerous for them both, because the Dirty Money Crew weren't afraid to kill a cop. Feeling totally helpless, she pulled out and drove off. Her new mission was to save her sister before it was too late.

 

Watching from across the street, the person trailing Sticks witnessed the whole scenario that just played out. When Scar was in town running the Dirty Money Crew, he had a shadow trailing him and plotting to take him down. Now that he was missing in action, the shadow was now following Sticks, the apparent heir to Scar's empire. It was surprising to see Rodriguez at the warehouse. The shadow figured she would have been at the courthouse watching to see the outcome of the case against Detective Fuller.