It's Like Candy (29 page)

“You Keep doin' what you doin',
Starr, and you gonna be my right-hand bitch,” Rome proclaimed, gazing at Starr's naked body.

He was lounging in his La-Z-Boy chair watching Starr rub her body down with baby oil from head to toe. His dick got hard just at the sight alone.

Starr smiled and continued to smear herself with the oil. She was definitely attracted to Rome, but she knew he only saw her as his working bitch. And she liked hustling for Rome, he protected her and promised to take care of her.

“You're young, beautiful, and that body is tight. You never come up short wit' my money and you fuckin' listen. I like that,” Rome stated.

“You know I gotta do you right, Daddy,” Starr replied, smiling at her pimp.

“Word, you wanna do me right,” Rome said, displaying a lustful smile.

Starr smiled back, rubbing the oil in between her thighs.

“I gotta surprise for you,” Rome stated.

“You do, Daddy?”

“Yeah, you definitely gonna like this,” he said.

He began unbuckling his jeans, and pulled out his huge dick, and began stroking himself lightly.

“Ooh, I like that surprise,” Starr said, staring at his big dick.

“Nah, this ain't it. I'll show you later after I fuck you first,” Rome said. “Come jump on this dick and make your daddy proud.”

He didn't have to repeat himself. Starr walked up to him still naked, glistening with oil, and straddled him in the chair. He slowly pushed the tip of his dick into her, and she gasped loudly, clutching Rome tightly as he opened her up with his thick and long erection.

“Show Daddy you can handle it,” Rome said, thrusting about eight inches into her, with three extra inches left to spare.

Starr bit down on her bottom lip, clawing at his back as she rocked back and forth on his lap, tightening her love muscles around his huge shaft.

Rome devoured her plump breast in his mouth, sucking and licking on her nipple as he grabbed her ass firmly and repeatedly thrust himself into her, causing Starr to scream out.

“Aaaaaahhh, Daddy . . . Aaaaaahhh . . . you got a big dick, baby,” Starr cried out.

Rome fucked her the way she wanted to be fucked—long, hard, and deep. There was a knock on Rome's bedroom door.

“What?” Rome shouted, still deep in Starr.

Reality walked in, and said, “We ready.”

“Then wait, muthafucka!” Rome shouted.

“Ayyite,” Reality replied, and walked out.

“I'm coming, baby!” Rome uttered, clutching Starr's butt tightly.

“I'm coming too, Daddy,” Starr said.

Rome grunted, discharging himself into Starr. He shuddered and gripped her hips tightly. Starr came a short moment afterward, clutching her pimp tightly and quivering along with him.

Rome panted, and then said, “Ayyite, get the fuck off me, Starr.”

Starr jumped off his dick, satisfied that she got her nut, and started to get dressed. Rome began to make himself decent again,
and then told Starr to hurry up, he wanted to show her the surprise he had waiting for her.

A half hour later, Starr followed Rome into another apartment he had in the same building. This apartment was off limits—she and the other girls were strictly kept out of it. Only Rome, Reality, and a handful of his soldiers came in and out.

Rome knocked on the door, and Reality opened up. Starr followed behind Rome, feeling uneasy. The room was empty, no carpets, pictures, rugs, or furniture. It was strictly bare, looking vacant. Starr stopped in the center of the living room. But Rome nodded to Starr, gesturing that she should keep following.

They headed to one of the back bedrooms, and Starr heard some kind of activity behind the door. Before they walked in, Rome looked at Starr, and said, “You take care of me and I'll take care
of
you. Here's my surprise for you.”

He then opened up the bedroom door, and Starr was shocked by what she saw—they had Bamboo tied to a chair, and he was naked. They had worked him over terrible before she arrived. He was bleeding from his head, with his eyes swollen and his lip busted.

“This the muthafucka that attacked you, right?” Rome asked.

Starr nodded.

Rome walked up to Bamboo, and shouted, “You put one of my girls in the hospital, you fuckin' bitch! You dare harm my product. You know who I am?”

“Fuck you!” Bamboo cursed. “I'm Bamboo, niggah. I'm gangsta. Fuck y'all!”

Rome viciously struck him a few times in the face, causing Bamboo to spit blood from his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up!” Rome shouted, glaring at him.

Starr just stayed in the background and watched. She didn't want to get involved despite his being the one who'd put her in the hospital.

“Yo, pass me those Vise-Grips,” Rome said, reaching for them.

Reality passed Rome the tool and Rome immediately went to work on Bamboo. He clamped the Vise-Grips around Bamboo's nipple and twisted, breaking flesh.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh—fuck y'all!” Bamboo continued to curse.

“What, niggah, fuck us! Fuck us! No, fuck you!” Rome screamed, twisting the tool again, ripping the nipple off. Rome then went for his other nipple, twisting the Vise-Grips against his skin, causing a piercing scream throughout the room.

Starr reluctantly looked on, becoming squeamish.

“You see this bitch right here, she belongs to me, and you put her out of work for a few weeks, so you gotta pay, muthafucka!” Rome shouted.

Rome then had his men hold Bamboo down, as he pulled out his tongue with the Vise-Grips. “You like this? You die slow tonight, niggah. Reality, cut this niggah's tongue out.”

Reality walked up to Bamboo with a huge blade in his hand, and didn't hesitate to slice off Bamboo's tongue as though it was butter. Reality then held the tongue in his hand as if it was nothing.

Vast amounts of blood poured from Bamboo's mouth. He gagged on his own blood, twitching and squirming around in the chair.

“Ohmygod!” Starr cried out, turning her head from the gruesome sight.

“Starr, he made you suffer, now you make him suffer,” Rome said, picking up a metal baseball bat and passing it over to Starr. “Do your thang.”

Starr looked on in awe, thinking,
Is he serious!'

She reluctantly gripped the baseball bat and walked over to Bamboo, who was coated in his own blood, and spitting up. She glanced at his tongue near his feet, and felt the urge to throw up.

She couldn't will herself to do it. Rome looked at her and said, “Give me the fuckin' bat and let me show you how it's done.” He grabbed the bat from her hands, raised it, and violently came across Bamboo's head, nearly snapping his neck back. Bamboo's face was
contorted. He shook as if he was having a seizure. Rome raised the bat again, and hit him across the head again, again, again, again, again, and again.

Starr was wide-eyed, her stomach beginning to turn. There was blood everywhere, puddles of it on the floor. Rome stood over Bamboo's lifeless body panting, looking like a butcher covered with blood. He passed Reality the baseball bat.

“Next time, you don't hesitate to kill a man before he kills you,” Rome said to Starr.

Starr tried to keep her composure. She'd never seen a man tortured before, and she knew this crew was ruthless. Everyone in the room looked calm and collected. But Starr wanted to run out of there.

Rome walked up to Starr, and said, “That's for you, baby. Any niggah touch you, and that's how they get dealt wit'.”

Rome looked as though he just finished doing housework. He kissed Starr on her forehead despite having just beaten a man to a pulp with a baseball bat.

“Yo, get rid of that faggot. Cut him up and dispose of that niggah. I want his body out of here by tonight,” Rome ordered.

Starr followed Rome out of the apartment and back to his other apartment down the hall. She was terrified. She remained quiet the entire time.

Reality was a few steps behind them when his cell phone rang. He picked up and watched Rome and Starr walk into the apartment.

Inside, Rome began stripping away his clothing and washed his face off in the kitchen sink. Starr just stood in the living room and watched him. Moments later, Rome walked up to Starr shirtless and asked, “You okay wit' this? You ain't gonna bitch up about what you saw back there?”

“No,” she said.

“The same thing can happen to a woman if she crosses us,” Rome sternly explained. “You understand that, right?”

“I understand,” she replied meekly.

Reality walked into the apartment looking troubled. Rome saw that, and asked, “What's up?”

“We gonna have problems wit' this niggah Yung Slim,” Reality told him.

“What the fuck you mean?”

“They kidnapped Royal,” he informed Rome.

“What?” Rome snapped. “Take care of this shit, Reality. Find my bitch, and murder this niggah.”

Reality nodded. “You know I am.”

Starr looked at both men and her heart began to beat rapidly. She became scared. This was the first time she had doubts about Rome since she'd left the hospital. She thought about Ms. Henderson and the love she gave her when she was so messed up.

She thought about the advice Ms. Henderson gave her, and deep inside, she did miss her. After witnessing Bamboo being murdered in a horrendous way, she knew it was time to get out. But she knew Rome was a gorilla pimp, and no ho got out unless he said she could leave, and that was very rare. He was very possessive and controlling and made all his hoes get his name tattooed somewhere on their body. She got hers on the small of her back.

“Starr, you and the girls get ready to hit the track in two hours,” Rome instructed. “Cash is driving y'all out to Hunts Point tonight.”

Starr nodded, reluctant to turn tricks after what she just saw. Before Rome left with Reality he looked at Starr, and coolly asked, “You're not gonna bitch up on me, right? I need you tonight. I want you to continue makin' the money you've been makin' me since you been wit' this crew.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she softly replied.

“Ayyite, now is not the time to begin fuckin' up! You never made me angry, and don't start now,” he continued as he held her chin in his grip, gazing into her eyes.

“I'm okay, Daddy,” Starr replied, keeping her composure around Rome.

“Ayyite, that's my girl. Any problems tonight, Cash is goin' to be around. You chirp that niggah on your Nextel,” Rome instructed before he walked out of the room with Reality.

Starr sighed, and then reluctantly began getting ready to hit the track that night.

Yung slim and Bishop pulled up
to the parked sedan where Detective Monroe sat waiting, smoking a Newport.

“I don't like waiting,” Monroe barked.

“You got something for me?” Yung Slim asked, disregarding his remark.

“Your boy got picked up for a DWI last week,” Detective Monroe informed him.

“Who?”

“Rahmel. I got his information. He came back into town two weeks ago, him and his new bride.”

“That's good,” Yung Slim replied.

“He got himself a cozy Long Island home in Brentwood,” Monroe said, passing him the address.

When Yung Slim had the address in his hand, he then passed him the rest of the money owed to the detective. Detective Monroe quickly went through the bills, making sure it was all there.

“You don't trust me?” Yung Slim joked.

“I don't trust anyone,” he replied.

Satisfied that it was all there, Detective Monroe laid the cash
down on the passenger seat, and then said, “Listen, I know it's your business, but what do you want with this man? He's not in the game.”

“You're right, it is my business, and not yours to go snooping around on,” Yung Slim replied. He tossed an extra two grand into the car, and said, “That's a little extra to forget about this meeting we had. You hear or see something in the future, you forget about this information I required from you.”

Detective Monroe nodded.

“I'm sorry about your boy Donald. When is the funeral?”

“Thursday. Any leads from the precinct?” Yung Slim asked, but not really caring.

“We're on it. But it's not my case. My hands are clean from the bloodshed,” Monroe said. “Y'all two want to kill each other, it's fine by me. You keep me away from this beef, Yung Slim.”

“I could care less about your old ass,” Yung Slim said.

The less said, the better, Detective Monroe told himself. He planned on retiring next year and didn't want to get caught up in the war with two arrogant assholes who wanted to cancel each other out. He wanted to keep a low profile till his retirement, and knew that wouldn't happen if he constantly got involved with Yung Slim. He would slip him some information from the NYPD database and that was about it. But as far as getting his hands dirty in murder, drugs, and other illegal activities, he wanted to be through with that. Monroe had lasted this long by being smart and not being too greedy. He knew Yung Slim's era was going to come to an end soon, and he refused to get dragged into it anymore. He had a family, and wanted to be around to see his kids grow.

Detective Monroe drove off, aware that the streets were going to get a whole lot uglier. He wished that they would have waited an extra year to parole Yung Slim, because by then he would have been retired and moved out
of
state.

. . .

 

As Eric made his way
to the funeral, his cell phone rang in the passenger seat. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Willie calling. He knew it was about that time for him to re-up. But he'd been so busy that he had forgotten about his Brooklyn client. And that cash would definitely come in handy for him.

“What up?” Eric answered.

“Same o, same o, E,” Willie replied. “I need them thangs from you again.”