Watch Out for the Big Girls (5 page)

“Yo, wassup?” Anthony questioned. His words came out alarmed and timid. Concern was written all over his face.

Sparkle and Glitter stood there with sinister grins on their faces. The drug had them charged up and they were ready to turn up the heat. “I guess I'll go first, Glitter,” Sparkle proclaimed.

“Yeah, go ahead, be my guest, sis,” Glitter replied as she strolled over to the nightstand that Sparkle set her Michael Kors bag near.

A sense of panic swept through Anthony's body. “Uh uh! What the fuck? I ain't into all of that extra freaky shit!” he aggressively yelled. “Let me the fuck loose!” he demanded in an authoritative tone.

The empty order fell upon deaf ears. In fact, things began to get even worse. He heard a familiar clicking sound that he knew all too well. He slowly turned toward Glitter's direction. She was pointing a chrome Desert Eagle right at his forehead.

“What the fuck? Oh, so y'all don't know who the fuck I am,” he boasted as if everything was under full control. “Y'all just gonna come up in here and shit and think y'all gonna rob me?” he added.

The twins simply giggled.

“Calm down, daddy. We know exactly who you are. And no, we didn't come here to rob you for your money. The picture is so much bigger than that. However, we are goin' to take something from you that you can't get back.” Sparkle explained as she began stroking the length of the strap-on as if it was her own stiff penis.

Anthony began to sweat profusely. “What? What type of shit y'all—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Glitter gun butted him so hard that the left side of his forehead split. He was instantly unconscious. After the twins made sure he wasn't faking, they uncuffed him and repositioned him again before recuffing him.

Glitter stepped back and grabbed the second item that was hidden behind Sparkle's Michael Kors bag. It was a video camcorder. She turned it on and scrolled through the menu. She aimed it at the target until live footage of him appeared on the screen. She pressed her record button and gave Sparkle a smile and head nod. The target was stabilized. It was finally time to execute the order.

Ten minutes later, Sparkle pressed stop on the camcorder and pause on the cell phone video recorder she was given, as Glitter stepped away from the unconscious figure, lying chained face flat on the bed. She reached for his silk boxers and used them to wipe herself off as she walked over to her sister.

“I guess he was right: we do do penetration,” Sparkle sarcastically joked about the sodomizing act she had just committed. They both laughed at the irony of the situation.

“Sparkle, go 'head, send the video and call the number they gave us,” Glitter suggested.

Sparkle scrolled through the phone's menu and texted the explicit raw footage to the anonymous number they had received along with the information on the target and the mission.

The twins impatiently paced the floor for a full fifteen minutes before the phone began vibrating. They both put their ears to the receiver and listened without saying a word as a soft but dominant voice came through.

“Okay, girls, good job. Y'all are in,” the woman announced. “Be sure to return the camcorder where you retrieved it from.”

The twins looked at one another, drowned in confusion. “That's it? Just like that? What do we do now?” Sparkle asked, not sure of what the next move was.

“About what?” the woman questioned.

“About him,” Glitter intervened.

“Oh please. Do excuse me. It's been a long night for all three of us. Why don't you leave that to me. I'll take care of him right now. I assume he's still out cold and restrained. Correct?”

“Yeah, but I think he's coming to. He's starting to move,” Glitter panicked.

The woman chuckled. “Good. Smack him around a li'l bit to wake him up, and then put me on speakerphone and hold it next to his ear.”

The twins glanced at each other again. At that point they were just ready to get their belongings, leave, and just run from the consequences forever. They had just violated a very powerful man in the worst way and they weren't sure of how they would be protected from him. Still, they knew they had to finish what they had started.

“Nigga, wake up!” Sparkle smacked Anthony's right cheek repeatedly until he came to.

Anthony's eyes shot open. He looked around in a confused manner. He thought it was all just a bad dream. His vision was blurry and he felt dizzy. He then realized that he couldn't get up. His wrists were still cuffed to the bedrail. The burning sensation registered in the lower half of his body. Blood trickled down from his forehead into his left eye. He squinted hard, trying to focus his right pupil on his violators. He could barely speak from his throat drying up.

“Wh . . . Wha . . . What the fuck did y'all do to me?” He slowly struggled to finish the rhetorical question, not really wanting to know the answer. He couldn't even remember if he was awake for it all, but the sharp pain shooting through his anus retold the story of exactly what happened. An unfamiliar voice entered his left ear.

“Hello, Mr. Frost, or should I address you by your street moniker?” The voice let out a light chuckle. It was more of a statement than a question. “Anyway, this is the leader of the Double G organization. Maybe you've heard of us, maybe you haven't, but we are a well-known resistance group of the underworld. And we are well protected. You have just been part of an initiation process by these two young ladies. They are now under our umbrella. We are responsible for them and their well-being. So, please, before you think about any type of retaliation, do your research on us first. You will find that there are many just like you who have been targeted and then forced to become our allies if ever we need assistance of any kind. If you weren't considered to be a useful asset to our organization then we wouldn't be having this conversation, because you'd be dead already.

“I am very aware of your power, and exactly what you are capable of. I also know your limits and, more importantly, your reach. And that's where we are up on you. You are restricted. Local. We are spread throughout the entire nation. We are everywhere you can think of or even imagine. And, everywhere we are, there are dozens like you who are forced to deal with us, even though they despise who we are, what we do, what we are about and, even more importantly, what we have done.”

“Get to the fuckin' point!” Anthony grunted into the receiver.

“Okay. Have it your way. Here's the deal. I have live footage of what just took place. It is stored away in a computer file along with hundreds of others. If you choose to retaliate or show resistance in any kind of way, shape, form, or fashion, you will be killed. But only after we finish stripping you of everything and every person you love or even care about. And, on top of all that, the footage will be played at your funeral. Copies will be handed out to everyone throughout the entire Las Vegas area connected or associated with you. Your crew will spit on your name. Your legacy will be tarnished and reduced to dirt. And all you would be known for is being a has-been gangsta who got killed 'cause he fucked with the wrong bitches and got fucked!”

The phone went dead in his ear, and seconds later a text came through. Both girls read it aloud at the same time: “Keep this phone on at all times. Uncuff him and leave the memo on the bed for him, delete this text, and get outta there. Welcome to the family.”

As instructed, Sparkle immediately deleted the text message. Glitter walked over toward the bed and uncuffed him and then tossed the white envelope at him. “This is for you,” she dryly remarked.

“Fuck you, dyke bitch!” he spat. Sharp pains shot through his wrists from the handcuffs as he attempted to lash out at Glitter.

“No, more like fuck you, sweetie.” Glitter smiled. “Welcome to the gay society. Faggot.”

They both let out a thunderous laughter as they waved their good-byes and made their way out of Anthony Frost's bedroom.

Starr hung up the phone and pushed herself back from the round table. The rest of the Double Gs rotated blunts around the room and sipped on assorted flavors of Cîroc, Hennessy, Rémy, and Patrón while they listened to Starr lay the law down to their latest victim. They were used to watching their leader in action, but it had been a minute since she had called an emergency meeting. All of the members were all too curious to know the nature of the unexpected gathering. Starr took a swig of the Peach Cîroc on the rocks with no chaser as she studied the faces and body language of her crew while they waited for the final member to arrive.

Under any other normal circumstances she would not have been the least bit concerned about her crew member's tardiness, because she was used to it, but tonight was different. The call she had received still weighed heavy on her mental. Tonight everybody was a suspect. She couldn't help but watch the people in the room she considered family, sisters, with a questionable and suspicious eye. She knew calling the emergency meeting would have all of them on high alert and that's exactly what she wanted. At that moment no one was exempt from the accusation she received from the anonymous caller. Starr's train of thought was interrupted by the sudden presence of her friend of seven years.

“Sorry I'm late again, everybody. My bad,” Bubbles announced with a smile and wave. She peered nervously over at Starr. Seeing that her boss wasn't smiling, Bubbles wiped the smile off her face and replaced it with a more solemn, apologetic one. It was apparent to her that Starr was pissed or irritated by something. Aside from Starr being her boss, she was her closest friend and knew, even when others didn't, when Starr was bothered by something. Bubbles wasted no time finding her seat at the head of the round table next to Diamond and Felicia. All three looked at one another wide-eyed and shrugged.

Now that everyone was in attendance, Starr took her drink and tossed it back until her glass was empty. She then walked over to the table, scooped up two ice cubes, and picked up the half-gallon bottle of Peach Cîroc and refilled her glass. She put the drink up to her lips and drank half of the liquor.

Her actions instantly drew the attention of the other Double Gs. They all went from curious to uneasy. It wasn't too often that they saw their leader toss drinks back like that. They all knew the only time she actually did drink excessively was when either they were celebrating or there was a problem. Each woman voted on the latter and tightened up. Both blunts and drinks ceased as the members of the Double Gs sat attentively waiting for Starr to fill them in on why they were all there.

Starr took a deep breath. She chose her words wisely before she spoke. She could feel the sweet-tasting alcohol starting to kick in. She raised her head and sniffed the air. “Y'all smell that?” she asked the room.

Everybody in the room began to sniff the air and stare at each other with confused looks plastered across their faces. Starr knew they didn't and couldn't smell what she did, unless they were the cause of the foul stench.

“In case you can't smell it, I'll tell you what it is.” A sinister grin appeared on Starr's face.

Everybody waited, eager to know what their leader smelled that they couldn't, outside of weed and liquor.

“I smell some bullshit!” she boomed out of nowhere.

Her words caused a few of the Double Gs to chuckle.

“Oh, you think shit funny?”

The sight of Starr's black nine millimeter cocking back was enough to cease all giggles and snickers. The room was filled with surprised looks. No one was surprised that Starr had drawn her weapon because it was a known fact that she was a certified shooter. They were surprised that she felt she needed to draw it in the room to prove a point. There was not a body in attendance that wouldn't lay or hadn't laid their life on the line for her or the crew.

Starr knew as soon as she drew her gun she had gone too far, but her emotions had gotten the best of her. She knew what was going on in everybody's mind, but at that moment she didn't care. There was a strong possibility that someone in the room jeopardized or compromised their organization and she wasn't having it.
Extreme measures for an extreme situation,
she told herself.
One of these bitches think it's a game, but I'm about to show them just how real it is.
She was now in a zone. She was in pure boss mode.

Felicia's voice brought her back. “Baby girl, what's the deal?” she asked.

Starr shook her head in disgust. “The deal is I got an anonymous call from some muthafucka sayin' we got an informant in our camp.”

The word “informant” caused murmurs and chatter among the members of the Double Gs. Starr noticed the heads of everybody in the room shaking to indicate that they weren't who she was referring to. The scenery made Starr regret blurting the word out. She had trusted these women for years. There was no one in the room who hadn't been a Double G for at least three years while the rest had five and better by her side, without so much as a eyebrow raised at their loyalty. The room was in an uproar as surprised looks turned into offended ones. Starr knew she had to say something to gain order within the room.

“Look, I'm not pointing the finger at anybody, but I can't excuse the fact that it was thrown out there.” Her words eased the room a bit. “Now, this shit can't be taken lightly. It's not a joking matter. If there's any truth to it, if one goes, we all go, so I'm sure you can understand my concern and anger.” She let her words linger and marinate. “It's not just about me, it's about us. Double Gs for life. We ride or die and if somebody jeopardizes what we stand for, even if we embraced them as a Double G, they get rode on!” Starr's words triggered an uproar of agreement.

She watched the reaction of every member.
How the fuck can it be any of my sisters?
Every face seemed genuine in the room. They all had disapproving looks of a snitch being among the ranks and they were in agreement with riding for and with Starr.

“What about one of the probationers?” Bubbles pointed out.

Her statement brought silence into the room. No one, not even Starr, had given that any thought. It was as though a new light had been shed on the situation. Starr nodded and flashed an apologetic smile that only Bubbles managed to catch before she spoke.

“How many rookies we got on probation?” Starr directed the question to Felicia, who was in charge of initiations.

“Um, including the twins and the new boot I'm settin' up now, six.”

“That means we got six potential snitches in our motherfuckin' camp,” Diamond spat. She rolled her eyes in Starr's direction. She was pissed, but maintained her composure up until now. She wondered if her lover suspected her. It all made sense to her now why Starr had just up and left the other morning.

“True,” Starr agreed. “But not necessarily true,” she added. She noticed Diamond's attitude toward her and excused it. She knew what had fueled it.

“Fee, I need you to double back and do a more thorough check on them chicks to see if we overlooked something. Meanwhile, I'll run this pass Queen.”

Felicia nodded.

“I know it's late so I'm not gonna prolong this meeting any further, so let me say this. I deeply and sincerely hope that nobody—and I put emphasis on the word—in this room has broken the code and gone against the grain.” She let her words linger in the air before she continued. “Because, I love you all like my own flesh and blood. But if I am right, I promise you, God Almighty Himself will not be able to save you. That is all.” She banged her fist on the table as she ended abruptly.

No one uttered a word. Instead they all rose and one by one they began to exit the room. Ten minutes later, the room only consisted of Starr, Diamond, Felicia, and Bubbles, and an additional meeting was held.