Around the Way Girls 9 (32 page)

 

Mike hadn't been responding to any of my phone calls. I'd tried everything from begging to sending him naked pictures but he still hadn't reached back out. I'd racked my brain hard, surfing through my own phone trying to see how much he could've seen before joining me and Nique during the fight. I couldn't believe I'd slipped not deleting the messages. To make matters worse, I know that nigga wanted to ram my head through the wall seeing Wally pull up. I knew Mike better than he thought I did and his ego was hurt. As much as he boasted about controlling women putting us in our place, that nigga couldn't handle me dipping out doing the same thing.

I got dressed against my will; what I really wanted to do was get in touch with Mike so I could tell him why I really was hooking up with Wally. There was a need to explain myself. But trying to be a good friend, I slid on the sexiest black dress and pumps I'd stolen from Macy's making sure my appearance was on point before joining Nique at Ignite. She'd left an hour early having to drop off a few more cards so I'd promised to meet her there. I swore myself not to say anything until I got more evidence but the vibes Nique was throwing off toward Wally told me she was feeling him. Low key that's why I took him into my room letting him fuck my walls raw. Yeah, it made me seem like a ho 'cause I'd just gotten down with Mike not an hour ago, but that's what chicks in the hood did to mark their territory.

I'd never partied at Ignite before because it wasn't my type of crowd but since my girl needed a break from the roughhouse drama we were into on a daily, to hell with it, I was down. Mostly drunk Caucasian people looking to drink even more beers, listen to loud rock music, and dance off beat were flooded into the casino's nightclub partying their asses off. As much as I kept trying to, I couldn't get into groove even though the later it got the more folks like us poured in. Nique ordered a bottle of wine and hadn't slowed up one bit. Pregnant or not she was still getting it in. We had a spread at our table, doing it real big since I was paying with the Tandy's credit card.

The DJ started to play some hip hop in the mix. I finally started to get into my element. I stood up starting to dance, letting go all of the frustration today brought. We both were partying hard. The waitress kept chilled bottles coming to our table and the tab kept growing. If this place didn't cost an arm and leg to party at, this would've been my new spot. Making our way to the dance floor, the strobe lights made me seem even drunker than I already was. Dancing, grinding, and feeling myself, I dared anyone tonight to tell me I wasn't the baddest chick in the club. Nique was sandwiched between a group of guys but was holding her own. Each with a bottle in hand, we were living the high life on someone else's pocket. This was the American dream.

“I know I've been tipping back these bottles, Cori, so excuse me if I'm wrong, but ain't that Mike's girl? You know, what's her name, Amy, Anna, Alyssa?” She was slurring a little.

I took the wine glass from her hand not wanting to clean up a drunk's mess, or have the guys thinking she was easy to go. Looking up from grinding to Rocko's “Goin' Steady” song in the direction Nique was staring in, I saw Alyssa walking in with a large group of people. “Yeah, that's her.”

If this ain't some bullshit. Why she ain't booed up with Captain Defendo with her stank ass?
Hurrying to get back to the booth and sitting down to not draw attention to myself, I continued to gawk seeing her flash her badge to gain access to a roped-off section. “Hey, Nique, it's time to sober the fuck up, chick. Looks like your cousin is fucking a cop.” I watched Alyssa, the girl I was jealous over, mix and mingle with a few other narcotic cops I knew for a fact worked the streets of our neighborhood as shifty cops. These were the same dudes who ran in on Mike and his crew a few times before, stealing his stash several times in the process. They bought her drinks, freaked her out on the dance floor, but what caught my eye the most disappeared once people from the same hood they worked in showed up. When she took a large wad of cash from one of the cops I knew stole drug money, I knew for sure she was foul. She was making cash on top of her measly salary but disturbing my life in the process. Alyssa was just a prop, probably to get closer to Mike. Too bad for her, I was Mike's secret weapon and was going to make sure he stayed untouchable.

 

Making sure my Smith & Wesson was fully loaded before placing it onto my lap, I flexed my fingers outward ready to put in that work. I was thirsty in the worst sense of the word. Discreetly following the F-150 me and Nique had been trailing since downtown Detroit, we turned into a subdivision of mini-mansions with football stadium front yards.
I can't believe Mike been banging a sneak snake all this time.
My mind started to race as my fingers began to itch. From the looks of it, we'd hit the jackpot and were about to get on in a major way. The payout on top of her salary had Alyssa living quite swell. I was impressed. We crept on Alyssa by watching her every move in the club until she left the club pissy drunk. In the time it took her to make it to her car, we'd slid on clothes we kept in Nique's trunk for moments just in case.

“You ready for this lick, Cori? I see Mike's slick ass has been sliding up in public enemy number one.” Nique kept a safe distance behind the car as it slowed down and turned into the driveway of an unlit house. We kept past the house a few feet then turned the ignition off. Skilled at our trade we both simultaneously slid our black face masks down, only leaving our eager eyes exposed.

“Come on now, you know I been couldn't stand her. Just this confirms why.” Putting the Kush tail of weed out into my empty can of Red Bull, my body was starting to fidget with anticipation on what was about to go down. I had a personal vendetta with this redbone yellow bitch.

“I feel ya with ya bitter ass. So let's do this!” Jumping out the raggedy Taurus I was riding shotgun in, I was beyond reckless with my intent. I watched for any nosey neighbors who might call the law as me and Nique ran up the dimly lit block to our victim's house dressed in all black, with the core goal of getting money. Anyone or anything that had other intentions, false purpose, or a plan on stopping our endeavors would certainly end up a casualty in the war. That was the game in these cold, harsh streets of Detroit; we were just living by the rules. We moved fast and deliberate, ducking behind bushes and creeping along the side of the brick wall in order to gain unnoticed access. Right on time we slid underneath the closing garage door, catching Alyssa Anderson off-guard. She didn't have a chance to react before I grabbed and wrapped one hand around her long, fluffy ponytail muffling her horrific screams with my other. “Is someone waiting on the other side of that door for you?” I whispered into her ear coldly.

She shook her head. I shoved my chrome-plated pistol into her side making her grunt, “No.”

Keeping one hand over her mouth, I patted her down quickly to see if she was packing any heat. Off duty or not, her career was to carry a concealed weapon so I had to be sure. Miss High and Mighty didn't know what hit her but I was sure coming to grips real quick that today wasn't her lucky day.

As I ran my gloved hands up and down Alyssa's curvy-framed body, the terrified off-duty Detroit police officer's hands trembled by her sides as her eyes grew big. Usually armed, ready to bust bullets at common criminals like us, she was now at our mercy.

Ta'Nique wasted no time pushing in the cracked door Alyssa was only moments from entering when we crept up. “Oh yeah, we hit a bankroll bitch this time. This right here is what I call lifestyle of the lavish living.” She laughed, going all the way in Alyssa's unsecured home.

“Is that so?” I gritted my teeth, feeling my bitterness grow. “Well you already know what we came to do, my baby!”

Alyssa jerked trying to get free from my grip but was no match for the gangster that ran through my veins. Eventually she had no other choice but to bow. “Please don't try me.” I raised my Smith & Wesson to the back of her temple ready to unite her with her Maker. “I swear I ain't leaving this house in cuffs without you in a body bag.” Clicking one into the chamber to let her know I meant business, ol' girl's best bet was to fall in line and play her role right. Me and Nique had come too far from our shady, decrepit hood to go back empty-handed, especially with it being Mike's girl as our mark. I had a personal interest in all of this.

With tears streaming down her face, the prissy cop seemed to say a silent prayer that she'd make it through the night alive. By morning she could have the whole unit out like hound dogs for this duo. “Please, you can take everything I've got. I'm just begging you not to hurt me.”

She was shaking and crying obsessively as I flung her down onto the ceramic-tiled kitchen floor, her once thick-coated makeup was smeared across her pale rock-cratered face.

“Please shut her the fuck up. I really can't stand all that crying and begging.” Nique grimed the powerless woman before hawking a big gob of spit onto her floor. “Please believe me, Alyssa, we out here on some straight hooligan-type shit. We ain't come to talk or negotiate.” Nique wasn't fazed by the heartfelt pleas for us to have mercy on her well-being as she moved on from us to close the curtains and ensure the three of us were alone.

Not having any type of sympathy or empathy for the trick, I roughly yoked her up by the collar of her blouse then shoved my gun into the lower spine of her back. “Shhh, don't say another motherfucking word or I swear on everything I love, I'll put a bullet straight through the back of your skull.” Seething with a purpose, I vowed to the crooked cop who was cowering at my feet, if she didn't cooperate, shut her mouth, and act like she had some common sense, this ordeal had the potential to turn all the way up real, real quick. “Don't make your night worse than it's already planned to be.”

Alyssa Alexander grew nauseated, frightened half out her mind. With a face full of tears, she was trembling like a homeless man sleeping underneath the freeway overpass on a bone-chilling Michigan winter night; and here it was middle of July, almost eighty-one degrees to be exact. Did I give a shit when she pissed on herself like a newborn? Hell naw, not me. Being a veteran in the streets, her cries only pissed me off more. I was not the least bit moved by her begs for God to have mercy on her soul and for me not to take her life.

My blood ran cold on the regular and tonight was no different. See, I had that arrogant west side of Detroit pumping through my veins. That “bitch, I'll kill you and not give a fuck about going to the funeral and smile all up in your mama's face” type of pedigree. I was a female who stayed thirsty for a scheme, scam, or hookup. My struggle to live and survive out in these miserable streets was real no matter who got hurt. The only time I was privy to the luxury life was during my reality show television watching time.

High as hell off the two blunts we'd smoked on the ride over, my adrenaline was still pumping as I glanced around amazed at the large suburban magazine-styled house. No wonder Mike had been licking her cat down; the wealth seemed endless. This was some shit I'd dreamed about living in as a kid. Each room was overcrowded with large, posh-looking furniture, oil portraits hung neatly on the custom-painted walls, and plush area rugs covering portions of the shiny pine-colored wood floors. The only things out of place were me and Nique. Getting caught in my feelings, starting to feel inferior in my scuffed, worn-soled gym shoes, my hate for this middle-class working woman grew. Alyssa was living good as a motherfucka having my man as her side piece while I was caught up in the struggle.
Now that's where I'm gonna have to call bullshit.

Dizzy with envy, hearing this “ain't got no worries” bitch sniffle even after I told her to shut the fuck up twice made me want to permanently silence her. “Didn't I already warn you about all that crying and shit? You must think I'm a joke.” I snapped back to reality and the true reason as to why we were here. “Get back onto your knees with your hands behind your back. Move slow; one flinch with ya knock-off Snow White ass and I'll blast your motherfucking head off.” Cold and callous, gritting my teeth, right about now wasn't a chick walking this green earth more serious about getting this paper than me. Any false moves, a sneeze, or even the rolling of her eyes, and I was going to bang that big head of hers through the glass coffee table. Don't get it twisted, I wasn't a murderer. I was a thief. But tonight I planned to be the most vicious at my craft.

“I'm sorry,” she panted, gagging for air. “Please don't hurt me. I swear we can work something out.”

Hearing her continue to beg against my orders not to, I felt like once again she wasn't taking my gangster seriously. I smacked the officer of the law across her face with my bare hand and a long red welt immediately spread across her cheekbone and jaw. “Shut the fuck up means exactly that!”

As I watched Mike's love interest's slender lips twist up as she almost hyperventilated from holding in her cries, instant gratification surged through my body. Mike had been flaunting her in my face, making sure I knew she was untouchable but here she was a cop, a pig, the type he hated on a sunny day. And not only that, with rent due and welfare fraud charges pending over my head, I needed this bump badly to get right with old Mr. Goldstein by cash only. I hadn't forgotten about my obligation to him.

“We're all clear. Time to tie ol' girl up and get to work.” Nique stepped back into the room grinning ear to ear. Not hating Alyssa with a passion, it was easy for her to work efficiently and with ease.

“Damn, it's about time. Ol' girl over here fidgeting, screaming, and pissing me off. I was just getting ready to splatter her blood all over this nice white carpet.”

The woman turned beet red at every word coming out of my mouth.

“Toss me those handcuffs, tape, and cords.” I couldn't let my emotions get the best of me. From birth Nique and I were trained to be about our dollars and cents; this summer breeze night would just be another notch under our belts.

“Fa'sho, let's see what's in bag number one.” Nique winked her eye then dropped the black duffel bag down in front of Alyssa's shivering body. I found humor in Nique taunting her. She unzipped the bag slowly then dangled the handcuffs, duct tape, extension cords, and the roll of Home Depot Husky contractor clean-up bags back and forth across her face.

Bending back over, Alyssa puked almost instantaneously.

“Aww come on now, chick, don't tell me your prude ass wasn't expecting this. They ain't train you better than that, rookie?” At each turn Nique kept letting her know this occurrence wasn't by coincidence and she was chosen to get tortured.

“Listen up, lady. You need to get your shit together real quick.” I waited a few seconds before continuing. “I'm going to need you to lead me to where you stash your cash.”

Slobbering, wiping vomit and snot across her face, the lady who was only accustomed to answering 911 calls to break-ins wept pitifully. She looked across her family room at Nique and seemed to get angered at her clearing the entertainment center of DVDs, CDs, speakers, radios, and video gaming systems.

“Hey, stay focused. Don't worry about her. I'm your main concern. Get up and move, bitch. I ain't got all night.” Moving closer to her, I was ready to strike again.

“Wait. Okay, okay, please just don't hit me again,” she screamed, just as vain as the first day of her introducing herself at Mike's gambling party.

She was barely standing barefoot; I'd literally knocked her out of her Jimmy Choos.

“It's in my top dresser drawer in my bedroom, upstairs to the left,” she confessed in between sniffles.

Exasperated and drained, it was clear she'd given me the true placement of her most valuable possessions when she hung and shook her head in defeat.

“See, now that wasn't so hard.” Antagonizing Alyssa, I knew she was hotter than fish grease.

“Here's your bag. Tie her up already and let's get this on and popping. We don't have all night.” Nique handed me a contractor bag, walking behind Alyssa, tying a blue bandana tightly around her eyes so she couldn't ID me or her once we took off our black masks. “Get that rock off her finger, my baby.”

“I can't be smoking before licks . . . got me tripping.” Slipping the nice-sized diamond ring from her finger, she shook with overwhelming fear and probably anger. When I bent it back to hear her shrill, that was just an added bonus.

The look was written all over Alyssa's face. I know she regretted spending her free time out of this protected suburban lifestyle she had. Maybe this lesson would teach her to leave dudes from the hood alone. It hadn't been said Mike was the relating link but I was sure the thought had crossed her educated mind.
Wow, this shit is crystal clear. I'm hitting her jewelry stash fa'sho.
Alyssa's shrills almost made even me want to cry as I carelessly ripped a pair of gold hoops from her ears then ripped her necklace and pendant from around her neck.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why? You're not gonna get away with this. I swear you're going to regret everything you've done thus far.”

“Here the fuck we go.” I raised my sneaker and stumped her in the small of her back. “I knew you'd give me a reason to stomp throw down on that ass,” I hissed before grabbing her by the rear of her neck squeezing tightly. All I could see was her hugged up with Mike and I lost it. I couldn't hold my temper any longer, jealous of the wealth surrounding me along with her now-bold attitude. So there you had it: a shoe to the back with a bruised-up neck, exactly what she deserved.

“You people always taking things that don't belong to you. Get a job for Christ's sake.” She was struggling to break free, wheezing for air but still talking shit the whole time. “Taking my stuff ain't right.”

“You people? Ain't that about nothing, you flat-booty, no-courage-having tramp. You ain't nothing more than a dirty cop who loves long dick. So fuck you and your across-the-board judgments,” I shouted, spontaneously beating her several times across her face with the barrel of my burner.
Fuck.
I was mad as hell. As I went to work on the face I hated to see on Mike's arm, her screams made my anger boil even more.