California Connection 2 (Califronia Connection) (11 page)

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Authors: Chunichi

BOOK: California Connection 2 (Califronia Connection)
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I explained how shit went down.
“So you cheated on Jewel with her best friend?” Misty seemed shocked.
“Nah. We weren’t together yet,” I explained to Misty, hoping that fucking Jewel’s friend wouldn’t ruin my chances of fucking her.
“Mm-hmm.” Misty grunted as though she didn’t believe me, yet it seemed to turn her on. “You’re a bad boy.” She continued, “Well, I don’t think it’s safe for you to go back to the bar. I can just take you home if you like.”
I readily agreed. “That’s cool.”
My mind was so fucked up as we drove, I couldn’t even think straight. I couldn’t believe that bitch Sasha could have gotten me fucking killed. If it wasn’t for Misty peeping them out, I could have been bleeding on the concrete. Two times in a matter of a few months I’d escaped death. I couldn’t say shit. I just sat in silence.
“Okay, where to?” Misty said, interrupting my moment of silence.
I gave her directions to my crib, and minutes later, we were pulling up in my driveway.
“Would you like to come in?” I offered.
“Sure.”
Misty followed me through the door. Once inside, we got comfortable on the couch.
“You okay, Touch?” she asked, noticing the worry on my face.
“Just a little stressed out. This is two encounters with death I’ve had in a short time. Worse, I could have gotten you killed. Basically, you’re the reason I’m here. What the fuck you doing with a gun anyway? And where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?”
“First of all, don’t worry about me. I’m used to this, Touch. I’ve lived this life before. My ex-boyfriend was heavy into the drug game too, so I was ducking and dodging bullets and had to be on point every day.”
Something about Misty’s statement made me stop and think.
What the fuck she means, “into the drug game too”? Who the fuck said I was in the drug game?
I’d hoped Jewel’s ass didn’t run her mouth to this bitch. I’d told Jewel time and time again not to trust anyone, especially no bitch. You think she would have learned her lesson from Sasha.
“I know it must be stressful.” Misty stroked my face as she spoke to me.
“Stressful ain’t the word, ma. When I first got shot, I wondered if I would ever be back to my old self. Now I’m better, and I’ve got to wonder if I’d live to see the next day. I’ve got beef coming in every direction, and on top of that, I don’t even know if I can trust the chick I was gonna make my wife. Right now I feel like it’s me against the world. Real talk.” For the first time, I was able to express the shit that had been on my mind.
“Aaawww, you poor baby.” Misty wrapped her arms around me and playfully kissed my cheek.
Seeing this as the perfect opportunity, I began to kiss her. And, just like I figured, she didn’t resist. I slid my hand underneath her loose blouse and began to massage her breast. One touch of her nipple and my manhood rose to the occasion.
“Uuummm,” Misty moaned.
I gently laid her down, and she assisted me in taking her shirt off.
One by one I sucked her breasts, while slowly sliding my hand into her panties. I had to be sure to make each move right. I didn’t want to take the chance of her resisting and deciding not to go through with things.
Once my hands were in her panties, I buried my fingers deep between her fat pussy lips. Feeling the thickness and moisture alone of her pussy made me want to bust. No longer able to resist, I pulled off my jeans, slipped on a jimmy hat, and before I knew it, I was all up that fat pussy I had been admiring earlier.
Chapter 23
 
“Charge It to the Game”
 
Sasha
D
amn! What a fucking night
! I thought as I opened the door to my hotel room. On a whim, Diablo and I had rolled up on Touch. Of course, after I’d led Diablo to believe Touch had robbed me, there was no way he could run into Touch and not defend his shit. I wasn’t expecting to be in the middle of a shootout, but even more shocking was seeing Touch come out of the bar with another chick. From what I’d heard, him and Jewel was getting married, and from the looks of things, they were really into each other.
A part of me was actually kind of happy to have the opportunity to fire shots though. Most of mine were aimed at that bitch Touch was with. If I couldn’t have him, then no one would. I’d rather destroy the empire than let another bitch sit on the throne.
After our little incident, Diablo had to settle things with the guys I was supposed to deliver the package to. I listened as he talked to them on the phone.
“Yeah, man, I got you,” Diablo said. “I know shit got fucked up, but I ain’t even trying to hold on to niggas’ money. You know what I mean? I’m saying, that’s why I’m here now.”
Diablo was explaining his ass off. From the looks of things, niggas was really pissed off.
After he got off the phone, I asked him, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, man,” he said with a distressed look on his face.
“You sure?”
“Man, that nigga Touch really fucking my shit up. This is a hell of a loss I’m taking right now, but I gotta straighten niggas to keep business going, ya dig?”
“I feel you.”
For a split second, I almost felt bad for stealing from Diablo, but I really couldn’t be certain that it was actually guilt that I was feeling, especially since I’d never felt guilt before. The way I saw it, shit happens, so charge it to the game.
After Diablo set his boys straight, he headed back to Atlanta. Me, on the other hand, I had to stay back to find a way to get rid of the drugs I’d taken from him. I hadn’t the slightest idea who I could go to.
Determined to get that money, I used my only resource. I headed to the strip club, The Hot Spot. As an ex-stripper, I knew a lot of the local as well as out-of-town drug dealers that hung out there.
Walking into the strip club, I didn’t notice too many familiar faces. People would come and go at the strip club all the time. Stripping wasn’t a line of work that exactly guaranteed job stability. One day you’re there, the next day you’re not. One day the money is good, the next day it’s not. But even with all those downfalls, bitches still couldn’t break away from the strip game. I guess it was the fast money that was so damn addictive. Just like niggas with the drug game, it was hard to let go.
“Malibu, girl, is that you?” a voice called out, addressing me by my dance name.
“It sure is,” I replied back to Candy and hugged her.
Candy, her real name Jennifer, was veteran to the strip game. She was actually the person responsible for my pole skills. She taught me how to work that pole in every way imaginable.
“How you been?” she asked, looking me up and down. “You coming back to work?”
Don’t you wish, bitch
, I thought, knowing exactly what was going through her head.
It wasn’t unusual for a current stripper to examine an ex-stripper in such a manner. I knew she was looking for any signs that I was struggling or doing bad. When a chick stops stripping, other chicks seem to think she has this I’m-better-than-you attitude. But in reality the current strippers are jealous of the ex-stripper, because they wish they were in the ex-stripper’s shoes and had the same opportunity to stop dancing themselves. So if a chick happens to be one of those females that are fortunate enough to stop dancing and she comes in the strip club, the current dancer is always gonna be looking for something negative to say.
“I’m fine, girl. Just dropping through. I’m not here for work.” I put any suspicion Candy had to rest then switched the subject. “How’s Lamont doing?”
“Next month he’ll be six.”
Candy pulled out her cell phone to show me the latest picture of her son. He was a real cutie with his two front teeth missing. Looking at that picture instantly made me miss my boys.
“I’m glad I ran into you. I need a little bit of information and help.”
“Whatcha need, boo? You know I got your back.”
“What I need to know is, where’s the ballers at? Where’s the niggas that’s moving major weight around here?”
“See that nigga in the corner by the pool table? He goes by the name Murdock. That’s one of the heaviest niggas that be coming to the club. That’s who you want to get at.”
Candy assumed I was looking for a nigga to take care of me or to run some tricks with, but that was better for me. The less that bitch knew, the better.
“Thanks, girl. Do me a favor. Have the bartender send him over whatever he is drinking.” I handed her a hundred-dollar bill.
I quickly went to the bathroom to look myself over and make sure my boobs were sitting up pretty and nice. Women would pay to have boobs like mine, but lucky me, I was just blessed with an awesome rack. Besides this fat cat, that was one of my greatest assets, and men couldn’t keep their eyes off them.
After his drink arrived, Murdock looked around to see who sent him his bottle of Nuvo. I raised my matching glass of Nuvo to him and nodded my head, giving him a seductive smile.
After twenty minutes or so, I headed over to him.
“Hmm. I’m a little impressed. I ain’t never had a female buy me a bottle, or even a drink, as a matter of fact. And you are?” He smiled at me.
I gave him a fake name and grinned back at him. “My name is Cara.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cara. So what’s up with you, little momma?”
“Well, I got some birds that are ready to move, and word on the streets is, you the nigga I should be hollering at,” I explained with much confidence, although inside I felt a little uneasy. Normally I wouldn’t take these types of chances, but I needed to get rid of Diablo’s product, and fast. My back was against the wall.
“How much you want for them?”
We negotiated pricing. He got over a little, but a bitch was desperate, and anything was a profit for me, considering it wasn’t my shit to begin with.
“A’ight den, it’s settled. All I need to know is where and when?”
“In an hour, meet me in the parking lot of Military Circle Mall near the movie theater,” I said, figuring that was a pretty safe place.
An hour came and went. I swear, muthafuckers didn’t know the meaning of being on time. Murdock was running only ten minutes late, but each minute I waited felt like an eternity. I sat there nervous as hell and shaking. This should have been a smooth transaction.
I saw a couple of guys pulling up next to me in an Escalade. I put one in the head and held the gun by my side, just in case some shit popped off. The two unknown guys stood by my driver and passenger door barricading it.
What the hell is going on?
Before I could process anything, one of the guys was in my face.
“Roll the window down!” he ordered.
I refused to roll the window down as he instructed.
“Do what the fuck I say and I won’t blow your stupid ass up,” he explained, holding up a grenade.
A grenade? This nigga can’t be serious.
I figured this had to be some type of joke so I yelled at him, “I ain’t doing shit!”
He giggled. “Your ass will be blown to pieces.”
I reached toward the gearshift to put my car in drive to pull off from this stupid-ass nigga.
“Not so fast.”
Bling!
Before I could react, my window was broken, and glass was shattered all over my face.
“Hey, Cara, or should I say Sasha,” Murdock stepped in and greeted me.
I wondered how the fuck he knew who I really was. “I’m not Sasha. My name is—”
“Yo, I’m not trying to hear shit you got to say. Hand me over that bag,”
Murdock cut me off mid-sentence.
“I am not giving you the drugs.”
Bam!
Murdock punched me in the side of my face with one hand and pulled me out the window of the car with the other. Then I felt the barrel of a gun pressed against my cheek.
Once my head stopped spinning and the stars before my eyes disappeared, I turned around to see a fucking AK in my face. That’s when I started to realize this wasn’t a joke at all. These niggas were literally ready for war, and I wasn’t gonna put up a fight. I knew this would be a battle I would lose. The thought of my sons were still fresh in my head.
“Put that shit up, nigga. Y’all couldn’t wait for an opportunity to pull out the toys, huh?” Murdock barked. “Y’all niggas don’t need all that shit for this little bitch.”
Bam!
I caught another punch to the face.
“Okay, okay, I’ll give you the bag.”
“See . . . all it takes is a little manhandling.” Murdock laughed.
I struggled to my feet and headed toward the car. I opened the front door pretending I was going for the bag but grabbed my gun instead.
Blap!
Murdock’s boy hit me in the face with the butt of the gun. He’d obviously gotten a glimpse of me heading for my piece. “I told you this shit would come in handy.”
By this time blood was running down my face profusely, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I grabbed the bag and handed it to Murdock.
“I was hoping you would choose life.” Murdock snatched the bag away. He quickly hopped back in his truck and sped off.
Karma’s a real bitch.
I shook my head in disappointment and exhaled. “Fuck you, karma! You bitch!” I yelled out loud.
I grabbed some napkins out of the glove box and put it on my bleeding wound then put my car in drive and drove away empty-handed.

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