Retribution (26 page)

He pushes out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, right. Maybe you not a dry-snitch, baby, but both of you fuckin' dick suckers, yo. And the only difference wit' that is, ya head game on top. That's what the fuck got ya ass fucked up in the first place, Pasha!
You
did this shit to us, yo! Cum-suckin' ass!
You
really fucked up what we had on ya bullshit! All this hard-ass dick you had comin' home to you ‘n' you couldn't hold out for a muhfucka. You had to be out there throat-fuckin' muhfuckas. And I
still
took ya dumb-ass back. Yo, real shit. Don't have me fuck you up again, Pasha. Them bullets today
missed
ya ass 'cause
I
wanted them, too. Ain't shit happenin' to you unless
I
say it is. Next time what you think's gonna happen, huh? I'ma…”

“Motherfucker, then you had better get me
before
I get
you!
You got me once, but motherfuck
you
if you think I'm gonna be silly enough to let you get me twice! Nigga, I'm gonna shut your shit down!
Watch
what happens next, Jasper!”

I hang up on his ass.

Never in my life have I ever been shot at…until this morning. And never would I have imagined that I would
ever
have to pull out a gun and start shooting at niggas in broad daylight. But I did…
today!
Thanks to Jasper's motherfucking ass!

Fuck!

I didn't sign up for this shit!

I'm reeling, feeling dizzy from the turn of events that have transpired over the last four fucking days. From finding out Cassandra
killed JT, Mona being molested by him to Felecia secretly visiting Jasper in prison and fucking him to me biting his balls and pulling a gun out on him to getting a restraining order, and now this shit—getting shot at!

And it's only going to get worse.

Being a vicious bitch isn't who I've ever been. And it's not who I
want
to be. But, that crazy motherfucker has crossed enough lines. And I'll be damned if I let
him
violate me ever again, or do anything else to me without giving him, or his clown-ass goons, a run for their goddamn lives.

I scroll through my call log, then dial the number I'm looking for. “Yo, what's good? You aiight?”

“No, I'm not. But I will be. I'm ready to take you up on that offer.” I give Lamar the rundown of what happened earlier this morning.

“Whaaat?!”
he snaps. “Yo, what the fuck, yo. Are you hurt, ma?” I tell him no. He lets out a sigh of relief. “See, ma. I told you this mornin' before I bounced to start lettin' muhfuckas drive you where you gotta go. Me, or any of the other cats you got on ya security squad should be wit' you at all times. That's what you pay us for, to keep you safe, feel me?”

“I don't want a bodyguard or someone escorting me around everywhere I go; every time I have to be somewhere. Besides, Mel was going to meet me here at eight, but I happened to get here a little earlier.”

“Yeah. And look what happened? You coulda been bodied, ma, feel me. Then what?”

“I know. But I wasn't. I'm not hurt. I'm shaken up a bit but that's it.”

“I feel you, Pasha. But right now it ain't about what you don't want. It's about what you
need
. Shit's gettin' real, yo. And right now you
need
a strong team of gully muhfuckas who are gonna hold it
down for you. That nigga takin' shit to a whole other level; got muhfuckas comin' at you wit' burners now. Word is bond, ma. That nigga's way outta pocket, yo. He gotta get handled—
today.”

I walk into my bathroom, pull open the glass shower door, then turn on the water, allowing steam to fill the space. I glance into the mirror, quickly touching the side of my face where Jasper slapped me. The bruise is still slightly visible.

Sonofabitch!

I step back out into my office, glancing up at the security monitor. Mel's six-seven, two-hundred-and-seventy-five-pound frame comes into view. He's at the front door. I watch him as he slips his key in, then enters the salon. Every time I look at him, with his golden-brown skin, thick neck and bulging biceps, he reminds me of the wrestler-turned-actor, The Rock—with his fine, sexy self.

I quickly shut my office door.

“He does,” I say to Lamar as I unlock my closet and pull out the skirt and blouse I have hanging up, “need to be handled. And he will be. Not today, though. I have something else in mind for his ass. By the way, Mel's here now.”

“Oh, aiight; cool. I shot him a text ‘n' tol' him he needed to get there ASAP.”

I smile. His concern for my well-being and safety is refreshing. “What time are you scheduled to come in today?”

“Not until two. But I'm hoppin' in the shower now. I'll be there in like twenty minutes. And don't go nowhere unless you have one of us wit' you, aiight?”

“Yes. I hear you. I'll talk to you when you get here. I don't have any appointments until eleven-thirty.”

“Aiight, bet. See you then.”

I end the call. Then walk over and lock my office door. I head
for the bathroom. I quickly brush my teeth, then hop in the shower, scrubbing and washing off the grime from the events of this morning.
Shooting at me? I can't believe this shit! You forced my motherfucking hand, Jasper! Now it's lights out, nigga! I'm coming for you!

I shut off the water, reach for my towel, drying myself off. As I'm applying body oil to my skin, slipping into my panties, snapping on my bra, then dressing, I can't get the black SUV, the the barrel of the gun aimed at me, out of my head. Can't shake the thought of a bullet having my name on it. Or the frightening possibility of ending up…

Dead.

There's an erotic lure to the danger of plotting a nigga's demise…

T
wenty-five minutes later, Lamar steps into my office, carrying a small duffel bag and shutting the door behind him. He hands it to me. Tells me from now on I am not to fire any of my own weapons unless I absolutely have to. Inside the bag are three guns, a Glock, a .40 caliber, and a .45. He tells me the latter two are better for protection. That the .40 caliber has less recoil, whatever that means. There are two boxes—50 rounds in each box—of Speer Gold Dot hollow point bullets. He tells me none of the weapons will be traced to me if/when I have to use them. There are also two new disposable phones. He tells me to use these from now on. Once finished with them, to remove the SIM cards, then destroy the phones.

I don't ask him where he's gotten any of this stuff. And I don't care. The only thing on my mind at this moment is giving Jasper's ass a taste of what he's forced me to become. A small sampling of what I'm
really
capable of.

Lamar sits in one of the chairs across from me. His legs spread open, his masculine scent mixed with soap and cologne, oozing from his pores, wafts through the air. I breathe him in. Strain not to eye his crotch. Subconsciously, I lick my lips, wondering if he can smell my thick juices slowly simmering.

A sweet delicious tension roils up from my clit, bubbles up into the pit of my pulsing pussy and hitches in the back of my throat as flashes of his hard, thick dick swirl around in my head. As the memory of his long tongue, dipping and curling in and out of my dripping slit flashes through my mind. As the lingering memory of the heat from his mouth melting against my pussy as he sucked in my clit, my cunt cream spurting out and coating his chocolate lips, causes my nipples to swell and ache for his wet mouth.

I see his lips moving, see his brown eyes gazing back at me, but in a matter of seconds I've become swept up in desire, and want. An urging need to fuck him—suck him, into my mouth, then into my throbbing pussy, takes me by surprise.

I clear my throat, pressing my thighs together, pushing back the salacious memory along with the rising well of wetness threatening to spurt of my throbbing pussy. “Um. What did you say?”

“I said I'm glad you aiight; real shit, yo. Now what you got planned for that punk-ass nigga, ma. I'm ready to put that work in.”

I lean forward, resting my forearms on my desk. I slip out of my four-inch Manolos, crossing my feet at the ankles. “I want Jasper hit fast and hard.”

He nods his head, rubbing his chin. “I got you, ma. All you gotta do is tell me how you want it.”

I open my center desk drawer, pull out a small pad and pen, then write down three addresses in the South, East, and North Ward sections of Newark. I tear the sheet of paper off the notepad and slide it over to him. The tips of our fingers touch. “Here are addresses to three of his stash houses. They'll be heavily manned with lots of gunpower, I'm sure. I don't know how much work and money there is at the first two addresses, but I
know
for sure there's plenty of both at the one on Fourteenth Street.”

Through listening, overhearing, and ear-hustling over the last year, I know Jasper is not only pushing coke out on the streets, but he's also distributing that molly shit now—a controlled substance considered to be the purest form of a chemical used in that party drug, Ecstasy—in crystal and powder form. And I
know
the nigga is racking in money hand over fist as a result.

“Aiight, aiight. Cool. So you want me to do surveillance?”

“Surveillance?”
I quickly shake my head. “No, no. I want them both
shut. Down.
Whatever money you come up with, I want. You can do what you want with whatever else you find. Then I want them both
burned
down to the ground. And whatever bodies get dropped, go up in flames along with 'em.” I eye him, tilting my head. “Is
this
the kind of
anything
you can handle for me?”

He locks his eyes on mine, leans forward, slowly rubbing the palms of his hands together. His tone is even as he slowly and clearly says, “Ma, when I said
anything
, that's what I meant.
What-
ever kinda work you need handled, it's handled; period.” He doesn't blink when he says this. There is no room for misunderstanding. He means what he says. “Them motherfuckers won't know what hit 'em.”

I smile, slowly running the tip of my pink tongue along the bottom of my bright copper-painted lips. A moan catches in the back of my throat. Just the mere thought of burning down two of Jasper's stash houses, fucking with his money, lights a flame of lust between my thighs. My pussy slowly heats. My lush mouth becomes moist. I am instantly turned on. The thrill of finally turning the tables on Jasper's ruthless ass becomes an aphrodisiac.

“Mmm, I love the sound of the that.” It comes out in almost a seductive purr. I can feel my simmering juices stirring in the well of my slit.

Lamar eyes me, then allows his gaze to slowly drop to the swell of my nipples, the way my breasts raise and fall beneath my draped silk blouse. He licks his own lips, shifting in his seat

I bet his dick is hard as brick…

Lamar's eyes meet mine. “Is there
any
thing else I can do for you?” It's a loaded question; one filled with endless possibilities.

He opens, then closes his legs.

I lick my lips.

He fans them open again, then shuts them.

I glance at the time. I have another forty minutes before my first appointment arrives. I get up from my desk, walk over to the door and lock it, then saunter back over to Lamar, positioning myself in front of him. “Before I start my day,” I say, dropping to my knees as my fingers skillfully unbuckle his belt, “I want to swallow this thick dick down in my throat.”

His eyes drop half-mast, instantly filling with lust as he licks his lips. “Damn. I tol' you, ma…
any
thing you need, I got you.”

I unzip his pants. Stick my tongue into his navel. Allow my fingers to roam along the tufts of hair that disappear down into his boxers. Then slip my hand down into the elastic of his boxers. His dick springs forward when I pull the waistband down.

It's hot and heavy. And throbs in my hand. I stroke it.

“Mmmm…looks like someone's already excited to see me,” I tease, flicking the tip of my tongue over the clear, sticky nectar already seeping out of his piss slit. I lick up and down and around his shaft, coating it with spit. The hot juices in my mouth start to flood my throat as I slowly suction him in until his dick pushes past my tonsils.

His eyes roll in the back of his head. “Aaah, fuuuck…oooh, shiiiiiiiiit…”

Without a word said, he lifts up and I yank his pants down over his hips, pushing them down to his ankles. He wants me to suck all of him, his dick, his balls. I slowly bob my head up and down, soaking him, wetting his balls. I gulp him down in long deep strokes, cupping his heavy sac and flicking my tongue at his balls on every down stroke.

“Uhhh, aaaah, fuck…mmmm…word is bond your dick game is fire…aaaah…”

I make rhythmic suck-sounds as he fucks himself into my mouth, thrusting deep until my lips are pressed at the base of his thick shaft, then drawing back until his dick almost slips from between my lips. My mouth becomes a vacuum, suctioning him tightly. He grips the back of my neck and grunts as I suck him. I can feel his body trembling and I'm certain his knees would surely buckle if he were standing. I grin inwardly at the thought of him dropping to his knees, his hard dick shooting out his nut, spraying me in the face.

“Aaah shiiiiit…ya mouth…uhhh…is sooo fuckin' good, yo…mmmm…A muhfucka could get use to this neck work, yo…uh, uh…oooh, shiiit…”

I glance up at him. His head is tossed back. The lids of his eyes have become thin slits. His eyes are rolled in the back of his head, evident by the sliver of his whites I see. Yes, I have this nigga caught up in the rapture, lost in the sweet heat and suck-fuck sounds of my lush mouth and long throat.