Read A Hustler's Son II Online

Authors: T. Styles

Tags: #Fiction, #Urban, #African American

A Hustler's Son II (4 page)

BOOK: A Hustler's Son II
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“You gonna stand over there, or are you gonna come get this pusssssssy?”

I smiled at that sly shit she said out of her mouth. Then I stooped down and ripped her panties off. I changed my mind, tonight I ain’t feelin’ like makin’ love. I wanted to fuck. Straight up! I had a lot of shit on my mind and sex was the best way to get it off.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout, Kelsiii! You not gonna tell me you don’t miss this puuussssssy. Show and prove, nigga.”

Wit’ her waist on the bed and her ass raised high in the air, I slid into her from behind. Slowly. Her mouth opened and she bit her fat pink bottom lip.

“Fuck!” I let out when I was sucked halfway into her tightness.

I was trynna maintain control but Kenosha’s pussy was too good. I continued to go in and outta her slowly pullin’ her closer. I wanted to see that ass up close. Her face was pressed against the dirty old mattress but she ain’t care. We was fuckin’ ghetto style. No frills. Just two bodies gettin’ it in. I grabbed her closer and pushed all ten inches inside her.

“Oh shiiiiiiit, Kelsi!!! You…you.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I was tired of hearin’ her mouth.
“I can’t…I don’t reeeemember you feelin’ this good.” She stuttered.

Suddenly I snapped. I don’t know why. But I pulled my dick out her soaked pussy and fucked her in the ass instead. She tightened up at first as I gave her the
unexpected
. But I wasn’t the first nigga who been up in here. I could tell. So she eased up, slightly. I started thinkin’ ‘bout everything. How much hate I had in my heart. How much I wanted to torture Kyope and Jarvis and how fucked up my life had been ever since they took the only true thorough chick I’d ever known. My moms. Wit’ Kenosha still under me, I fucked her rougher. The rougher I got the better it felt. The idea of revenge turned me on even if I was taken it out on the wrong person. I was reckless.

“Ahhhhhh…..shit, I’m bout to bust,” I yelled as I released into her warmth clinching her ass tightly.

“Kelsi, please! You hurtin’ me.”

Her cries woke me out of the zone I was in. But only after I bust my nut. When I let up off of her, she sat up straight, grabbed her legs and backed against the head board. It knocked softly against the wall twice before stoppin’. She was shakin’ and I noticed that blood covered the blue mattress and added to the stains already on the bed. I wondered what secrets besides mine this room held.

I couldn’t look at her at first, but I could feel her eyes on me. As wrong as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. Apology was a sign of weakness. It meant that your actions, whatever they were, were a mistake. And nothin’ I did was a mistake. She wanted to come out here, and she deserved exactly what she got. Fucked!

“You aight?” I managed to say.

“What is wrong with you, Kelsi? Who are you?” she sobbed looking at me strangely.

I ain’t answer. I wasn’t gonna show her a vulnerable side where there was none.

“Just leave, Kenosha. You shouldn’t be here no way. It ain’t safe.”

Her head dropped and she looked up at me again, naked from the waist down.

Still shaken.

Still scared.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” she wiped her own tears. “I know you gotta lot on your mind right now, Kelsi.” She crawled toward me, and grabbed my hand. “Please lay wit’ me, Kelsiiiiiii. I’m aight. Really. Pleeeeaaaase. Lay wit’ me,” she begged.

I wanted to be by myself but I let her stay. Maybe I didn’t wanna be alone wit’ myself and my thoughts. She turned on her side, away from me and I slid behind her in a spoon fashion. I could feel her tremblin’.

“Kelsiiii, I care ‘bout you,” she said softly.
“I know.” I responded, wit’out emotion.
“I wish you’d let me love you.”
“I can’t.”

 

Monday, 11:31 am

****

All I need in this world is a fat pocket and a phat pussy. You can keep the rest.

-Jarvis

 

Larou “Steel” Simmon’s funeral was jammed packed and the small church in Harlem had to conduct six services just so everyone could pay their respects. Some sobbed over the loss, while others showed up to be present for yet another fabulous event. Jarvis sat in the back row of the church with Prangsta discussing business. And although he paid for the ceremony, attending felt more like a chore than anything.

“The recipe is still off. Sometimes we get it right, and sometimes we don’t,” Prangsta said eyeing the huge crowd in front of him. Every now and again he’d use Steel’s obituary to fan himself as sweat poured down his face.

“Ya’ll niggas stay fuckin’ shit up,” he looked at him briefly and shook his head in disgust. He was sick of smelling the foul odor of his unkempt locks. “How hard is it to torture a nigga, write down what he tell you, and put it into action? I mean, must I do everything?”

“We did write down everything, man. But lately we just been off. Plus JoJo been sick so he ain’t cookin’ no more. For the most part it’s just been me and Crane.”

“Fuck is wrong wit’, JoJo anyway?”

“They say he got that cancer shit and ain’t been feelin’ right.”

“Yeah will he betta die or hurry up back to work foe he get cut the fuck off!”

Jarvis was serious about his business. It wasn’t easy becoming a billionaire. In order to corner the market, they needed something that would keep people coming back seconds after they shot up and the average dope wouldn’t do it. After word got around that Black Montel, a dealer down south was dominating by manufacturing his own product, Jarvis and Kyope decided to make the trip to Texas. Manufactured dope was the new wave. Black Montel had a white chemistry student on his team who did just that. It wasn’t just any dope Black Montel sold. It was so addictive that it had people shooting up within feet of where they copped, just to come back seconds later to cop again.

They tried to reach the white kid and it was impossible. Nobody knew his identity. And getting close to Black Montel proved to be difficult too because his security was top notch. In fact, it took months to win Black Montel’s trust and even then, he wasn’t willing to give up his recipe. His only offer was to discount his wholesale price since they came prepared to do
big
business. Black Montel’s generosity was due primarily to the weight being too small to takeover but large enough to flood New York. He liked to remain in charge.

Black Montel’s offer wasn’t good enough for Jarvis and Kyope. After a gun show which left twelve of Black Montel’s men dead, Jarvis and Kyope managed to throw Black Montel into the trunk of their car and torture him until he told them how he made the dope he called, “Buckle”. It was named for curling niggas over after the first pull.

Only after pulling up his toe nails, taping his eyelids back and pouring rubbing alcohol in them, did he talk. He was so determined to die with the information that he endured hours of abuse. Realizing a quick death would be less painful, he finally spoke.

“I’ll tell you what you wanna know!” Black Montel cried as alcohol fell into his eyes stinging terribly. “Just please….kill me! I can’t take it!”

Jarvis looked at Kyope and smiled at his defeat.

Before killing him, they made sure the recipe was right. Jarvis and Kyope were shocked that dope mixed with a caffeine powder substance could be such a commodity. That was six months ago and now they were two of the richest niggas in America. But with JoJo being unable to cook, lately they were killing more people than they were causing addictions and dope heads were copping elsewhere.

“How ya’ll know it ain’t workin’ right anyway?” Jarvis questioned.

“We been givin’ out testers and niggas been droppin’ dead. At first it ain’t matter cuz word got out that we had the truth. After a while niggas was droppin’ like flies and word got out not to fuck wit’ us at all.”

“You mean in all of New York you can’t find one mothafucka that’ll try the shit out?”

“You know they’ll always be at least one mothafucka. But we not getting’ the flow we use to. I mean…we can go to DC and try it there. But ‘round New York, it just ain’t happenin’. And until we get it right, we short.”

“You niggas is worthless!” Jarvis focused on Steel’s mother as she wept over the casket. He knew from Steel that she indulged herself every now and again. Her pale white face showed years of dope abuse. He decided to use her as a tester. “ Don’t cut the dope wit’ nothin’ ‘til it’s proper. Just sell it straight up. And then I want you to get JoJo and have him show you how to cook.”

“But he in the hospital. He dyin’, man.”

“You heard me right? Drag his half-dead ass to the lab and have him show you. Cause if my product not right, I’m testin’ it on you next.”

A surge of fear went through Prangsta.

“And when it’s done, we’ll rename it “The Crown”.

“Why ‘The Crown’?” Prangsta asked hesitantly.

“Cuz when they first try it, they’ll feel like kings and queens. And then they’ll be stripped of all their possessions, startin’ wit’ they money first.”

“I like that,” Prangsta smiled trying to get back on his good side.

“Get off my dick and get on top of this project. You got two days. After that I’ma find ya best vein.”

 

Monday, 1:00 pm

****

Kelsi ain’t the same. He Different. Then again, neither am I.

-Kenosha

The gun shook in my hands as I straddled Kelsi while he slept. The barrel aimed at his head. I wanted to squeeze the trigger so badly I felt sweat forming on my upper lip and forehead. I tried to think of one reason I shouldn’t kill him after the way he fucked me last night. Right when I was about to squeeze the trigger, Kelsi moved and saw me over him.

“Bitch, what you-,”

I pulled the trigger!
Bam!
And then I pulled it two more times!
Bam! Bam!
The sound of the blast scared me and I woke up. Wow, what a fucked up ass dream! The bed was wet with my sweat and Kelsi wasn’t there.

Sitting up straight on the bed in my panties with my legs folded against my chest, I still can’t get over how disgusting this room is. I walked over to the window to let the New York City air in. Pushing the curtains aside I inhaled the cool breeze and smiled at the slight chill. As I turned around to face the room again, I saw the sun rays light up the dust particles like glitter. This place is beyond filthy.

I decided that today, I would fulfill my duties and work Kelsi harder to murder Jarvis. I’m tired of him wastin’ time! Even I knew it didn’t take months to murder a mothafucka. If Skully wasn’t so concerned about the sentimental value of having Kelsi kill Jarvis instead of me, he’d be dead already cuz I would’ve done it a long time ago. Shit, I’d kill both of them at the same time!

Let me tell you a little about me. I assisted Skully, my boyfriend…slash sugar daddy…in murdering Kelsi’s mother. But Kelsi was told by Skully that Jarvis, his mother’s ex-boyfriend from New York did it. And this is all because Jarvis, who happens to be in the drug business with Skully, was stealing from him. I know it gets confusing and sometimes it’s even harder for me to understand. So let me reduce it to laymen terms for all you dumb mothafuckas out there. Skully is paying me twenty thousand dollars to see to it that Kelsi settles
his
score. And that’s exactly what I intend on doing.

I was just getting ready to put my clothes on and try to find something to do with myself when my cell phone rang. The moment I flipped open the Razr lid and saw Skully’s number, I felt a slight pang in my right temple. I hated talking to him sometimes because he wanted everything to his way.

“Hello,” I say, as I pull my hair back in a ponytail while resting the phone on my shoulder.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on, Kenosha?”

“Nothin’ yet. He says he’s still following them,” I told him as I cross my legs in front of me and sit back on the headboard which knocks against the wall. I’m getting real sick of the weak headboard shit. “But he seems motivated enough.”

Skully breathed heavily into the phone and said, “Has he told you anything about
when
he plans on killing him?”

Wow. This is a first. Skully is slippin’ because he never discusses matters over the phone. I know now that he’s desperate so I decide to make my offer again.

“Not really…just that he’s not giving up until he handles his biz. But you know what I think. You should just let me handle it. Just show me Jarvis’s picture and let me slump his ass.”

“No.”
I sighed.
“Encourage him, Kenosha. Get into his head! Remind him that his mother is no longer here cuz of Jarvis.”
“What you think I been doin’?” I shot back. “Just fuckin’ him?”
“Bitch, I will strangle you wit’ my bare hands! You hear me?” I Sigh.
“Kenosha…do you hear me?”
“Yeah,” I said, as my eyes roll.
“Now if you push him enough, he’ll make a move. But you gotta work him though.”

The more and more I work for Skully, the more I’m starting to hate his guts. Don’t get it twisted, he’s paying me good money to be out here dealing wit’ this bullshit, but the matter in which he handles affairs is dumb.

“I’ll push him, Skully. But you should know he’s after Kyope too. I know that ain’t in your plan but it’s in his.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that part. He ain’t doin’ shit ‘til he kill Jarvis first, and when he do, you can put a bullet in his head. Can I count on you for that?”

“Do I suck ya dick better than Jordan dunks basketballs?” He laughed. “I got you,” I reminded him. “Just let me work my magic.”

After I hung up with Skully, I looked around the room again. Something had to give if I was going to hang around here for a few more days. I reached for the old vanilla colored phone by the bed and picked up the receiver to call housekeeping.

BOOK: A Hustler's Son II
9.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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