Girls from da Hood 11 (10 page)

Her knuckles rattled on the door in rapid succession. She paused then knocked two more times. On the fifth knock, Lenore could hear the safety latch being taken off from the other side. It wasn't that Denise hadn't heard the first three, because she did. The knocks could have come from anyone she believed. But the second set of knocks was her way of knowing who was on the other side of the door. It was their own secret knock that only the two of them knew about. Had the second set of knocks been any different, Denise would have known that something was wrong and would have known what to do. The two of them had discussed and had their routine down pact.

Lenore waited patiently for Denise to open the door. When it finally opened, Denise stood there in a white wife beater and a pair of black boxer briefs that hugged her hips and rode up in between her inner vanilla thighs. Lenore stood there for a few seconds before she entered the apartment. Denise gave her a suspicious look, wondering why she was standing there the way she was. Neither of the two girls spoke a word. They just stared at one another. Then all of a sudden, a smile came across Lenore's face, breaking the ice.

“Come here,” commanded Denise with open arms.

Lenore stepped inside the apartment and embraced Denise. She closed the door behind her with her foot, wrapping her arms around Denise's waist. Palming two hands full of her ass as the two of them passionately kissed.

Denise parted her lips and opened her mouth as Lenore's pierced tongue explored the inside. As their tongues intertwined, Lenore pulled Denise into her closer by the hips as if they were one, causing their breasts to touch, pressing up against one another as their pelvises touched as well. Feeling the heat coming off of Denise's body was driving Lenore crazy as she released one of Denise's ass cheeks with one hand and placing it inside of the boxer briefs Denise wore.

“Damn, you wet,” whispered Lenore who had broken their lip lock and was now seductively kissing and sucking on Denise's left ear as she massaged Denise's pierced clitoris with two fingers.

“You got me like this baby,” Denise moaned.

She knew how to turn Lenore on. The two of them had been lovers for the past six years off and on. Ever since Denise had moved out to L.A. where she met Lenore. At the time, Lenore was in a relationship with another female who was very possessive over her. After meeting Denise, she somehow managed to find time to spend with her and instantly fell in love with her. One particular night when Lenore thought that her lover would be gone for the evening, she snuck Denise over to her house. Unbeknownst to her, her lover suspected something and set Lenore up, catching them in the bed together. Lenore's lover pistol whipped Denise then threw her out of the house naked. She then beat Lenore half to death. It was because of that, Denise returned back to Jersey just as it was because of that, Lenore had worked up the nerve to shoot her lover after being severely beaten again when she stated that she wanted to be with Denise.

Lenore continued to kiss and suck on Denise's body, trailing her tongue and lips down from her ear, to her neck, then from her collarbone to the cleavage of her breast.

“Did you do what we said?” asked Lenore through the kisses that she planted between Denise's breasts.

“Yeah, it's all on the bed,” Denise replied in a seductive manner.

With that, Lenore grabbed the bottom of Denise's wife beater and lifted it over her head, revealing her coconut shaped breasts. Denise raised her arms to assist, and then she too began undressing Lenore.

Within seconds, the two of them stood in the nude. Again Lenore kissed Denise, gently, letting her tongue roam the outer part of Denise's lips, as she scooped Denise's 115 pound. frame up by her thighs. Denise wrapped her legs around Lenore's waist as she was carried to the bedroom. When they reached the room, Lenore's inner thighs began to moisten at the sight of the bed. She carried Denise over and laid her on top of all the money scattered on the bed that Denise had taken from Gee-Live's house. Denise scooted up on the bed. Some of the hundred dollar bills began to cling to her skin. She parted her legs then grabbed two hands full of the money and poured it all over her breasts. That turned Lenore on. She climbed on the bed, slithering her way up to Denise, climbing on top of her. With Lenore's honey tone skin and Denise's milky cream tone, the two favored a caramel fudge sundae together. Now that Denise's breasts were fully exposed, Lenore began sucking on her nipples, letting her tongue ring roll around each nipple. Denise massaged Lenore's shoulders as her tongue continued to explore her body. With each kiss and touch, Lenore had Denise in a world of ecstasy, sending a million different sensations through her entire body. By the time Lenore's lips reached the final destination, Denise was soaking wet. She was so turned on behind fulfilling her fantasy of wanting to make love on riches, that she climaxed twice before Lenore's mouth even touched her clit. As soon as Lenore brushed her tongue across Denise's clit, Denise's body shuddered. Knowing that she had brought Denise to an instant orgasm, Lenore shifted her body. She climbed on top of Denise upside down, straddling her in a 69 position, giving Denise easy access to her love box. Without hesitation, Denise began to make love to Lenore's pussy with her mouth. For the next hour Denise and Lenore spent their time bringing each other oral pleasure. After multiple orgasms, the two of them stretched out on top of the money with one another's juices and perspiration all over their bodies, exhausted from their lovemaking.

Realizing that time was of the essence, Lenore began to get up off of the money filled bed.

“We have to get up,” she stated. “We still got something's to take care of before our flight.”

“I know,” said Denise now raising up from off the bed.

“I'm going to jump in the shower right quick, get all the money together and put it back in the suitcase.”

“A'ight, I'll be in the shower as soon as I'm done.”

“Okay,” Lenore smiled, walking to the shower.

“How much is it anyway?” she stopped and asked.

“A little under a hundred bands,” answered Denise.

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Lenore stated with a smile.

Denise returned the smile. “All in a day's work.”

The two of them shared a laugh.

“All right, handle your business ma. Oh! I almost forgot, make that call.”

“I'm on it.” Denise wasted no time retrieving the burner phone she had on top of the nightstand.

Despite the fact that it was only a twenty minute drive from Jeff's crib to Mike B's, it was a long drive for him due to the slickness of the highway roads. Mike B's truck had top of the line tires, but they were no match for Mother Nature. The closer he got to his town, the nastier Route 22 seemed. Because of the city's negligence, ice blanketed the streets and piles of slush covered the side of the road. Along the way, Mike B by passed two accidents, thanking his lucky stars that he himself was able to merge on to the highway thus far, and at the same, time cursed the city for their laziness. As he continued to drive, a smile appeared on his face seeing the sign that read:
ENTERING PLAINFIELD
.

He was glad to be reaching his destination shortly. As he was coming up on the exit he passed a state police car that sat on the right shoulder. Paying the car no mind, knowing that he was riding legit, Mike B put on his right turn signal, bearing off to the right. As he turned on to the exit, he noticed the blue flashing lights glaring in his rearview mirror, and wondered why on the world was he being pulled over.

“Un—fuckin—believable,” he cursed to himself, convinced that the police officer who had just pulled him over was either racial profiling because he was young and black with a truck that cost more than the cop made in two years, or he was just being a dick on a cold, wintry day.

Mike B pulled over alongside of the street and threw his truck in park as the police car pulled behind him. As the door of the police officer's car opened, Mike B cautiously watched through his rearview mirror as the tall white officer, who could have easily played the stunt double for Officer Poncherelli in the hit 80's TV show,
CHIPS
, stepped out the car. Mike B sat in the truck, impatiently waiting for the officer to approach. He was more than curious to find out the reason he had been pulled over, but the officer never approached his vehicle. Instead, he continued to stand behind his car door.

Seeing this alarmed Mike B. In his day, he had been pulled over for many routine stops and had never had any cop display the type of behavior he saw the officer displaying at that time. There was nothing routine about what he was witnessing so he grew suspicious.

“What the fuck?” Mike B said under his breath.

Taking a closer look into his rearview mirror, he now saw two more police cars behind the original officer's car that had pulled him over. He had been so focused on Poncherelli's twin, that he hadn't even noticed the additional cop cars, just as he didn't notice Poncherelli's twin with his weapon drawn, until the other two officers exited their vehicles with their weapons drawn also. Each man was pointing their gun in the direction of his truck.

By now, Mike B was in a state of confusion. He knew that there had to be some type of mistake that he was caught up in, but whatever that mistake was, he'd find out at a later date. The odds were not in his favor right now. Three possibly happy-go-lucky white cops with guns and one black male without one was not a good look in Mike B's eyes. He rationalized the predicament he was in. He had heard about many cases on the highway where dudes had been shot and sometimes killed for simple DWB; driving while black.
There is no way I'm going to become a statistic today,
he told himself.

“I said turn off the vehicle and throw the keys out of your driver's side window with your left hand. Now!” Poncherelli's twin repeated.

Mike B heard him the first time but had no intentions of complying with the orders. He knew that it was either now or never as he continued to study the three officers through all three of his mirrors now as they began to inch up slowly from both directions after Mike B refused Poncherelli's command.

Mike B put his hand on his stick shift, preparing to make his move. He eased his foot on the clutch of the Audi, while still carefully watching the three officers who hesitantly continued approaching the SUV. Once he had the clutch down, he was ready to make a run for it. When he was about to throw the Audi into first gear and accelerate on the gas pedal, the officer shouted.

“Don't even think about it!” he yelled, startling Mike B, causing him to release his foot from up off of the clutch.

Mike B was just at the stage where he had worked his nerve to throw the Audi into first gear and accelerate on the gas pedal. The driver's door of his SUV was yanked open by yet another officer, Mike B had no clue where he came from.

“Now slowly keep your right hand on the steering wheel and turn your vehicle off with your left hand,” the new comer instructed.

This time, Mike B complied. By now the other three officers had swarmed the SUV, one of them snatching open the passenger's side door with his gun pointed at him.

“Do you have any weapons in the vehicle, sir?” the pale-faced officer questioned.

“No.”

Judging by the look on the pale cop's face and ice blue eyes, Mike B was positive that he was one of the trigger happy cowboys who would have gunned him down. Had it not been for the fourth officer, whom Mike B felt to be level headed, he believed his blood would've been spilled where he sat.

“Ten forty-two, we have apprehended the suspect and are now taking him into custody,” radioed the fourth officer.

Suspect?
wondered Mike B.
Suspect to what?
he tried to ponder, as the officer on the passenger's side began to read him his Miranda Rights. The fourth officer ordered him out of his Audi.

“Hands on top of your head!” the officer ordered.

Mike B complied. He began roughly patting him down. Ending his search for weapons, the fourth officer grabbed hold of Mike B's hands.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he chimed, despite the fact that he was already forcefully putting them behind him for Mike B. In one swift motion, he slapped the cuffs on Mike B.

“What I do?” Mike B exclaimed.

He conjured up the most innocent face he could, but they weren't buying it.

“You'll find out soon enough,” the fourth officer offered.

“It was my stop. You want me to take him in Miller?” Asked Poncherelli's twin.

“It don't matter. I'll take 'im. You'll still get the credit for it, Steve,” replied the fourth officer who was referred to as Miller.

“All right, I'll see you back at the station.”

During that time, Mike B said nothing. He was still trying to make sense of the whole ordeal. It wasn't until he was in the back of the police car, that a slim possibility came to mind. He wondered if the officer named Miller would give him any answers, but knew the only way to answer that question was to ask, so he took a shot at it.

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat.

“What is it?” Officer Miller continued to write on his clipboard, never looking up or turning around to look back.

“Why was I pulled over and what am I being arrested for?” Mike B asked more direct questions.

Miller wondered if he should answer. It seemed to him, that someone of his caliber should have some idea why he had been stopped and arrested. Sooner or later, he would find out Officer Miller told himself.

“You were pulled over because there is a state wide APB out for your arrest.”

“What? For what?” asked Mike B before Officer Miller could finish, knowing that APB stood for an All Post Bulletin.

“For murder,” answered Miller, leaving out the part that said proceed with caution, suspect may be armed and dangerous.

“Murder?” Mike B tried to sound surprised. “That's crazy!” he said, but deep in the back of his mind he had already drawn up that conclusion but wondered how.

Miller studied his puzzled facial expression through his rearview mirror. For Officer Steve Miller, it was never anything personal, just a job, and his job was to uphold the law, to protect and serve. He was not a judge or a jury, so whether Mike B had been guilty or not was not his concern. Officer Miller's only concern was to deliver the detainee to the Plainfield Police Department, and that's what he intended to do, as he radioed in his destination to the dispatcher.

“Ten forty-two, I'm in route.”