The Day the Streets Stood Still (9 page)

“Agghh . . . nah, man!” Boogie cried out. “I would do that, man! I wouldn't do that!

Beans let out a long breath, his face turned up as he circled like a hawk. He knew Boogie was lying and it was making the heat of anger rise into his chest. Beans signaled for Bo, one of Sean's younger flunkies to bring him a machine that was sitting in the corner. The young kid jumped into action and retrieved a handheld machine with a round sandpaper wheel on the front of it. Boogie's already bulging eyes grew even wider when he noticed that his tormentor had a car sandblaster that was used to take paint off of cars in his hand and heading straight for him.

“Please! Please!” Boogie screeched as urine splashed from his bladder and his knees began knocking together. It was too late for all of that; Beans snatched the tool from the young kid.

“Now you gon' tell the truth?” Beans snarled as he drove the sandblaster right into Boogie's chest immediately stripping away a few layers of his skin. “Agggghh!” Boogie screamed so hard and loud that eventually his mouth just hung open until he couldn't produce any more sound. His body jerked violently from the pain and shock starting to take over his senses.

“Now, we gon' ask you again. Who the fuck you working with on our blocks?” Beans asked, the bloodied machine out in front of him menacingly. The heavy scent of his victim's seared flesh and freshly drawn blood was fueling Beans's crazy psyche.

Sean had enlisted him as his closest associate because of Beans's penchant for violence and this was just a prime example of what the kid was capable of.

“'Cause you ain't smart enough to be doing it on your own nigga!”

Boogie hung his head and slobber dribbled from his mouth. Ty, another one of Sean's men, rushed over and roughly lifted Boogie's downturned head. Just for the hell of it, Ty drove his fist across Boogie's already broken and severely swollen face.

“Who is it, m'fucker? Who dares to fuck with King Sean? Huh? Huh?” Ty barked. He really just wanted in on the action. He was another loose cannon that Sean was happy to have on his team. Ty was older than Sean, but never dared to show anything but respect for his younger boss.

“B . . . B . . .” Boogie muttered through his battered lips, a long line of spit and blood dangling from his lips.

“Say the name, nigga?” Beans growled with a sinister snarl on his lips as he powered the sandblaster back on again.

“B . . . B . . . B . . . G . . . G . . . it's BG,” the fat dude blurted barely above a whisper.

“Who? BG? What the fuck is you saying, nigga?” Beans asked.

“BG! It's BG! Just please,” Boogie begged, more bloody slob bubbling from his mouth. “BG made the side deal,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Who the fuck is BG?” Beans and Ty said at the same time. Sean didn't say a word, but his squinted eyes and squared jaw said enough.

Everyone in the room seemed to contemplate the question. Who would be bold enough to step on the toes of King Sean?

Sean didn't say a word during Boogie's torture, but when Sean finally heard that someone named BG was violating his spots in the streets, he was all ears. Calmly Sean stood up and got ready to exit the building. He looked at all of his men in one long eye scan around the room. His face remained stony.

“Find out who BG is. Then find out where he rest at and everything else about him. Take your time. Be smart, because obviously this nigga BG thinks he's smarter,” Sean gritted, fighting to keep the anger welling up inside of him under wraps.

 

 

Two weeks after the name BG came up, Sean sat at the end of the beautiful lacquer conference table in the conference room above his new boxing gym, where he usually discreetly conducted his business. Sean sat calmly, smoking a cigar, a new habit he had picked up in homage to Fox. Sean was patiently waiting for his men to report back to him what they'd found out about BG.

“From what we peeped whoever this nigga BG is, he sends a bitch, who drives a white Benz CLS with license plates that say BG to his spots to pick up his paper,” Beans spoke up.

“She's a bad bitch, too. Must be his lady. Sexy as hell though,” Ty chimed in, his tone a little too excited and hype for Sean's liking. “She usually has a car full of dudes following her pretty ass. But they look like lame-ass wannabe thugs anyway. Whoever BG is, I could tell he a lame.”

Sean took a long toke on his cigar and blew the smoke out slowly. Contemplating what he was being told, Sean finally looked down at his sparkly diamond pinky ring. He stared at the blindingly shiny diamonds as he always did when he was thinking hard. The information he was getting just wasn't sitting right with him. Any real hustler wasn't going to send his lady to risk herself picking up his paper unless he was locked up or in some other predicament where he didn't trust his street soldiers.

“Y'all sure y'all got the right info? How y'all know the bitch is picking up?” Sean asked, his voice slow and steady.

“You can see here yourself,” Beans said like he already knew Sean would be skeptical. “She's like clockwork most of the time,” Beans continued, sliding some pictures across the conference table. Sean looked down and squinted at the photographs. He was having a hard time keeping a poker face at that moment.

Damn!
he said to himself while fighting to keep his visible reaction even and unfazed. Sean didn't lift the picture, but he could see her as clear as day. The woman in the pictures was beautiful to say the least. She was the color of a Hershey's chocolate bar; her eyes were covered in oversized shades but that didn't keep Sean from seeing that her eyebrows were perfectly arched. She had a slim nose, high cheekbones and thick full lips that were painted with a deep burgundy lipstick. She wore her hair long and silky with a perfectly cut bang covering one of her eyes. It was probably a high-priced weave, but it was perfectly styled nonetheless. From what Sean could see in the picture, the woman's clothes screamed designer and appeared expensive as she donned a short mink vest, a gleaming white shirt that hugged and pushed her breasts up at the same time, and a pair of close-fitting, destroyed jeans that accentuated her round, wide hips. The woman in the picture reminded Sean of a black actress or one of those reality show chicks. Flawless—was the word that came to mind as Sean surveyed the pictures one more time.

Yeah, she gotta be a hustler's wife,
Sean told himself. He wanted to know more about her and this dude BG she was riding for. Sean took one last look at her and decided that woman in the picture seemed like an easy enough target.

“I guess to get to the man we will have to get his lady . . . grab her . . . I want to have a talk with her,” Sean said coolly. His men knew exactly what that meant.

Sunny's speech was slurred, her eyes were rolling around uncontrollably and she kept laughing at nothing in particular. She was so drunk out of her mind after a night of heavy partying, that when Faheem introduced a girl named Lucky, Sunny smiled and made kissy faces at the beautiful, blue-eyed, statuesque white girl.

“Damn she look like a broke version of Angelina Jolie,” Sunny hiccupped and laughed, her half-opened eyes moving up and down over Lucky.

“Lucky gettin' down with us tonight,” Faheem announced like it was something normal for him to say. Sunny just smiled lazily and laughed some more.

“She gettin' down with who? You? Me?” Sunny slurred, her eyes rolling around like she couldn't control them. Sunny had never been as gone off liquor as she was that night, but she would've also never guessed that Faheem would slip anything into her drink either.

“I like men with dreads and big dicks . . . you know . . . like you,” Sunny garbled, running her hands through Faheem's newly growing dreads. “I like dick . . . your dick,” Sunny went on, sticking her tongue out sloppily. Faheem wasn't budging. His face was flat and stony, unmoved by Sunny's advances.

“Get up off ya ass and give me a show. Both of y'all, I wanna see y'all together,” Faheem said, directing Sunny and Lucky with hand movements.

“Don't make me say it again,” Faheem said bending his head down over the small mirror on his nightstand and inhaling a line of his poison of choice. Lucky sauntered over to where Faheem stood and followed his lead. She was a pro at sniffing H just like Faheem; in fact, that's how he'd met her: through their shared heroin connect.

Once the drugs hit Lucky's system her body seemed to relax, her mouth went slack and a sinister grin cropped up on lips. She threw her head back seductively and fell down to her knees. Lucky whipped her hair around and around, then got down on all fours and crawled toward Sunny like a hungry lion going to eat a smaller helpless prey.

“Open ya legs for her, gyal,” Faheem demanded with dick in hand. He slapped Sunny on her right thigh. “Ya hear me? Open ya legs!” Faheem insisted again. Sunny laughed like a silly kid and stuck her tongue out tauntingly.

“I'm not no fucking lesbian,” she slurred, her words barely understandable. “I don't fuck girls, you . . . ass . . . asshole.” Sunny struggled to get her words out straight, her tongue clucking on the roof of her mouth with every syllable. She was twisted out of her mind, but still had enough sense to know that she wasn't trying to have lesbian sex with another woman.

“Open ya fuckin' legs now or get the fuck out of me house! You act like ya can't do nothing . . . laying around all day . . . and partying all night. I'm feeding you, clothing you, and dealing with ya bullshit. You think ya pussy alone can satisfy me? Eh? Nah . . . fuck that . . . I want some fun and you will give it or get the fuck out. Go back home and suck that old, fat nigga's dick like you did all ya life,” Faheem boomed cruelly, his face drawn tightly into a monstrous grimace. Sunny threw her hands over her ears and fought the tears welling up behind her eyes. Even completely, sloppy drunk, she understood the cruelty of Faheem's words and they had landed like hard slaps to her face. Sunny had never heard him speak to her like that, but lately, she could tell that he had been getting frustrated with her resistance to some of his sexual requests and had become increasingly mean toward her.

Even completely inebriated, Sunny understood that if she didn't bend to his will and Faheem threw her out she'd be forced back home or worse, forced to call Sean to save her, which would also come with his “I told ya so” speech.

“Do it now, gyal, or get the fuck gone from me,” Faheem spat, sniffing another line of heroin.

Sunny closed her eyes and reluctantly let her legs fall open. Just as she did; Lucky buried her face between them like a hungry dog. Lucky didn't care about putting on a show, so long as there was heroin as a reward at the end of it. At first, Sunny was tense, but once Lucky drove her warm, wet tongue deep into Sunny's middle, Sunny opened her legs wider, closed her eyes tighter and began grinding her hips toward the hungry girl's mouth.

“Ssss, yeah, that's what I'm talking about,” Faheem hissed as he stroked his growing member. He dropped his pants down around his ankles and got behind Lucky, who was on her knees lapping away at Sunny's clit. Faheem let a glob of his spit fall from his mouth and land between the crack of Lucky's ample behind. He then took the head of his manhood and swiped it up and down her crack, making sure the area was wet enough for an easy entrance.

“I know what you white gyals like,” Faheem said, his accent thick as he forced his pulsing rod deep into Lucky's semi-loose anal cavity. Lucky let out a whimper, but she knew at the end of that pain would be more heroin for her so she took Faheem's swollen inches like a champ. Faheem banged into her from behind like he was a dog in heat. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room and the musty, acrid smell of body fluids and hot, deviant sex wafted around.

Sunny was thrusting her hips harder and faster now as Lucky reached up and pinched Sunny's nipples between her fingers while simultaneously sucking and putting pressure on Sunny's pink, swollen clitoris.

“Ahh, ahhh,” Sunny groaned, her body tingled everywhere. Even Faheem had never given her head so good.

“Stop . . . don't let her cum,” Faheem instructed, grabbing Lucky's long blond hair and yanking her head from Sunny's hot box. Sunny's eyes popped open.

“Let her finish . . . please,” Sunny slurred her body so hot with lust she felt like she'd explode.

“Nah . . . you want it you work for it,” Faheem said cruelly, pulling his dick from Lucky's anus. Lucky laughed and watched hungrily as Faheem put a line of heroin on is rock hard shaft. Faheem tempted Lucky with the heroin.

“Ya see Lucky . . . she loving this dope dick. You . . . you're a scared little gyal Sunny. Ya call yaself a woman? Nah . . . a woman knows how to take the dope dick, see,” Faheem teased Sunny, his words upper cutting her each time. A fiery ball of jealousy welled up inside of Sunny's chest as she watched Lucky sniff the line of heroin off of Faheem's dick.

“Mmmm, shit . . . yeah,” Lucky moaned, falling down onto her back as the drugs took hold of her.

“I love a woman who takes it like that,” Faheem said, moving between Lucky's legs and thrusting himself into her with no mercy. Faheem moved in and out of Lucky like a jackhammer, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Sunny. He could see the mixture of lust, pain, jealousy and wanting on Sunny's face. Faheem knew her so well, he figured it would just be a few more minutes before he'd have her exactly where he wanted her.

Faheem thrust hard and harder and the more Lucky moaned in ecstasy the angrier Sunny got. Her drunkenness was fading and she wanted that feeling back. She needed to feel high to escape her realities. Faheem knew it too.

“You want some of this dope dick? Huh? Or you gon' keep turning me down. The dope makes it better . . . harder . . . slower . . .” Faheem teased, bending down and plunging his tongue deep into Lucky's mouth as he continued to pump his hips into the girl's small pelvis vigorously. “C'mon . . . stop being scared,” he urged, with Lucky's saliva wetting his lips as he eyed Sunny. “Sunny is a little gyal. Scared of a little heroin. Scared of a real man's dick,” Faheem pressed as he grinded farther and farther into Lucky.

Sunny couldn't take it any longer. She got up onto her knees and forcefully pushed Faheem away from Lucky. Faheem busted out laughing as he toppled over.

“Give me some! Give me some now!” Sunny demanded. “I am not a little girl. I can handle it all. Stop playing with me before I fuck this bitch up!” Sunny screamed, her face turning deep red. Faheem laughed raucously as he was forced to pull himself out of Lucky's insides.

“That's what I'm talking about. Fight for this dick. Fight for the dope dick, baby,” he taunted, stroking his prize. “You're finally growing up,” he said. He grabbed his heroin from the nightstand and did the same thing again, making a neat line on his rock hard meat. Sunny shot Lucky an evil look and without hesitation Sunny leaned down and snorted the heroin just like she'd seen Faheem do so many times.

“Ahhh,” Sunny winced throwing her hands up to her face.

“Pinch your nose. Pinch your nose,” Faheem shouted. “The first time it burns . . . but after that . . . shit this is the best feeling in the world,” he told Sunny.

As soon as the drugs hit her central nervous system, Sunny fell back onto the bed and her eyes snapped shut involuntarily. Her ears were ringing with some sort of music and she felt like she was floating on air. Every worry or care or painful experience Sunny had ever had seemed to float away. She saw the faces of her mother, stepfather, and Sean floating in her head. Sunny couldn't hear anything, but she felt damn good. Her eyes were closed tight, but not for long.

“Aye, gyal . . . aye, gyal,” Faheem was yelling and slapping Sunny's face roughly. He had interrupted the floating feeling and suddenly Sunny could tell she was just lying on his bed. She finally forced her eyes to flutter open and looked up at him.

“Shit . . . I thought you had OD'd,” he huffed, a glimmer of terror creasing his face. “Didn't I tell you that was some good shit,” Faheem said, his winning smile now painting his gorgeous face. Sunny smiled at him with her pointer finger at her lips seductively.

“More . . . I want more,” Sunny groaned, a lazy grin contorting her face as she reached toward the nightstand where the drugs lay.

 

 

It had been only been a month since Sunny snorted her first line of heroin and she couldn't get enough now. Sunny was dependant on the drugs to function on a daily basis.

Now she sat on the toilet seat in Faheem's bathroom with one end of a belt tied around her arm and the other end between her teeth while she slapped the center of her arm vigorously searching for a ripe vein.

Faheem had made the mistake of telling Sunny that if she shot the drugs directly into her arm it would get her high faster. The first time she tried it, Sunny had almost fainted when she hit the wrong area in her arm. She had missed the vein and caught muscle. The pain was like nothing she'd ever felt and Faheem had slapped Sunny across her face until her nose bled because she had wasted the drugs.

Sunny hated that her veins took so long to find. If she trusted that Faheem wouldn't take her hit away, she would've asked him for his help.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Sunny jumped, releasing the grip she had.

“What?!” she screamed in response to Faheem banging like a madman on the locked door. “I'm coming!”

“Fuck,” Sunny whispered harshly. “Now I'll never find one.”

Sunny sniffled back the snot threatening to leak from her nostrils. She was dope sick already and needed that hit more than anything.

“It's a party going on out here . . . our party so hurry the fuck up!” Faheem barked. Sunny could tell he was probably seconds from busting the door down. It was too late for her to sniff the heroin because she had already cooked it and got it ready for the needle. Sunny tied her arm again, this time her veins were a little more cooperative. She found one that plump and ready. She picked up the needle and with her hands shaking, she eased the drugs into her vein. Immediately her body relaxed against the toilet seat. The needle dropped from her slack hand and she slid down to the floor. Sunny felt at ease now, but she still couldn't recapture the feeling from her very first high.

“I'm not going to call you again!” Faheem screamed; this time he kicked the door in.

Faheem practically dragged Sunny into his living room where the mixed crowd of strange and familiar partygoers were mingling. Loud reggae music blared from two huge black speakers set up in either corner of Faheem's expansive living room. There was enough drugs and liquor spread out on side tables, the coffee table and even the mantle over the fireplace. Sunny was high, but she was aware of everything. There were men and women on couches, the floor, and the balcony all engaged in different sexual acts.

Faheem had moved from selling weed to throwing what he called dutty wine parties. In Sunny's assessment it was just another word for orgies. Sunny wasn't a fan of the parties, but Faheem's increasingly aggressive behavior toward her usually made her go along with it.

“I got three people that want to meet you,” Faheem yelled over the music into Sunny's ear as he pulled her along by the arm. Sunny groaned something, but when she saw all of the drugs that were laid out on the tables she quickly swallowed her words of protest back down her throat.

“Dreads, mon . . . this is my gyal Sunny,” Faheem announced to three dreads who were standing around in his kitchen. “I told yuh she was a hot piece,” Faheem continued with his accent on thick as palmed a handful of Sunny's ass.

Sunny's stomach flipped in her gut and she had to clutch the side of the kitchen counter to keep from falling down. One of the dudes with dreads smiled lustfully at her. “She like to party?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Hell yeah,” Faheem said, nodding his head toward Sunny. Sunny couldn't move at first, she stood there seemingly rooted to the floor. She shot him a dirty look and folded her arms over her chest. Sunny had been doing a lot of things she wasn't proud of since she'd started getting high but this....

“Don't fuckin' play around. I'll put you on the streets,” Faheem whispered in her ear harshly. Then he pulled a packet out of his pocket and shook it in her face like he was dangling a carrot in front of horse to get it to move.