ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT) (3 page)

BOOK: ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT)
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              “Yeah, but that mean I gotta leave my Chevy behind.”  There was a hint of sadness in Mike’s voice. He steered the car onto the wrong side of the street, hoping to scare the pig off like that.  But once again, no such luck.

Mike continued debating.  “Which means they gonna know it was me and you, ‘cause this shit registered in my name. Plus our prints is all over this bitch.”

              “Look here, nigga.  You tryna be sittin’ up in the muh’fuckin’ county tonight, in one of them pissy ass, packed ass holding cells with a bunch of drunks and crack heads all night? Waiting to see a judge to make bail? I know I ain’t!”

              Mike had to think fast. His Chevy was his baby, but an O.G. named Big Rick, who was now on Death Row withering away, had put him up on game a long time ago.  Once you embraced the streets, you could never become attached to anything that you couldn’t walk away from in 30 seconds or less.
“Young blood, sometimes 30 seconds can be all the time you got between death, a life sentence, or living to see another day.” 

              With that thought in mind, Mike swerved recklessly onto the road that would take them in the direction of the park. He was driving so fast and so reckless, he nearly wrecked and flipped the car over about four times.  And Greenville County’s “finest” still refused to stop the chase.

              “Ok nigga, we almost there! As soon as we get to the cut, you already know what it is,” said Mike frantically.

              “Fa’ sho’. We hop out, toss the guns, and split up and hit the woods ‘til we lose this clown.  Then we meet up at Neesy’s house.”

              Suddenly, Mike made a hard right onto a dirt road, and killed his lights. The Chevy almost spun out of control, and a huge cloud of dirt went up into the air.  The dark road was illuminated only by the dim glimmer of the moon. That road led into the woods that were part of Lakeside Park. At the end of the road, there was a small opening that led into the woods.  Right on the other side of the woods was a ‘hood called Rockvale, where one of Ant’s numerous girlfriends, Neesy, shared a house with her sister and her kids.

              As Mike approached the woods, he attempted to pump the brakes but the dirt road made it difficult to maintain control of the car, let alone slow down. The forest raced towards them, and he slammed his foot down on the brake. The car skidded forward until it collided with a tree at the beginning of the path. The impact was bad, but not bad enough to prevent Mike and Ant from jumping out.  They grabbed their money and cell phones, and ran into the woods like two runaway slaves.

              The officer who had initiated the high speed chase tried to bring his car to an abrupt stop, but he ended up colliding into the back of Mike’s car.  He was dazed for a second, but he jumped out and ran into the woods with his gun drawn, and flashlight out.  “Greenville County Sheriff’s Department!  Stop!” 

He might as well have been talking to one of the trees because Ant D and Mike were ghost.

           Within seconds, there were several Greenville County police cars at the scene, with their spotlights on, and their blue lights flashing. The K-9 unit was dispatched, and there was also a police helicopter circling overhead like a vulture waiting to swoop down and pick off its prey.

But it was all for nothing.  Ant D and Mike had escaped the long arm of the law.  At least for the moment.

         

 

Chapter 2

 

              Inside a plush, luxurious bedroom, located in a mini mansion in Easley, South Carolina, two lovers were sexually devouring each other on top of red satin sheets that covered a King sized, four post bed.

             “Damn, Meka! I’m ‘bout to bust, baby. Damn girl, I swear yo’ pussy is so fuckin’
good
!”                                  

             “Go ‘head and bust that nut in this pussy, daddy. Beat it up for me, daddy,” Meka moaned.  

              Twan was on top of Meka, banging away at her insides and trying to make her feel it up in her throat. The sound of their hot sweaty bodies banging together filled the room, along with the aroma of their sex.

Meka held her legs up in the air as wide as possible, and started moaning, “Fuck me, daddy, fuck me hard, daddy. I’m your little slut, baby.”  While talking dirty, she made the sexiest faces she could.

Right before Twan was about to cum, he pulled his dick out of Meka’s pussy and blasted his hot, sticky semen all over her stomach. Meka wiped his cum up with her hand, and made sure he saw her lick every drop off her palm and fingers.

Exhausted, Twan rolled off of Meka and lay on his side facing her. “Meka, you know I love you, right?” asked Twan.                                         

             “Yeah, I know that, daddy. I know. I love you too.”  She gave him the warmest, sincerest smile, and made Twan blush. Meka was good. After that, she said, “Look, baby. I gotta go wash up, and get dressed. I got some things I need to do today.”  She got up and stretched.                                          

             “Come on and get yo’ ass back in bed, Meka,” Twan said, attempting to grab her hand. “Spend the weekend with me.”    

             “I will, Twan, but first I gotta go home and check on some things. I’ll be back later.” 

    Meka went into the bathroom to take a shower.  Before she got in, she stood in front of the full length mirror and admired her honey brown body.  She was so bad she had the ability to make niggas act the fool. At 5’5”, 135 pounds, Meka was the epitome of the word “thick.”  She had baby doll eyes, and full sensuous lips that men loved seeing her lick. Her waist was small, and her breasts were full, with large brown nipples.  Her ass was large and juicy, and it jiggled whenever she walked. Thick, toned thighs and legs that were slightly bowed were the icing on top of the mouth-watering cake. 

Meka liked to pamper herself, so every week she got her hair done, and hit up the nail salon for a fresh manni/peddi.  And usually at the expense of some sucker who hadn’t even fucked her yet. Meka was a dime. Naw, fuck that, Meka was a quarter! All the old heads said she was the spitting image of her mama, Glo, before she started smoking that shit.                                           

              Still admiring her body, Meka rubbed her nipples with one hand, and her still wet, throbbing pussy with the other. “Damn, let me stop and get my ass in the shower,” she whispered to herself.                                                                      

              After showering, Meka went and got her clothes out of her overnight bag, and got dressed.  She put on some skin tight Apple Bottoms that accentuated her ass, and a light blue blouse that showed off her cleavage. The flat, gold gladiator sandals she put on exposed her sexy pedicured toes. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was already after 12 ‘noon that Saturday. 

She kissed Twan goodbye, and stepped outside into the bright sunlight of the day. She walked over to her Chrysler 300c, hopped in, and sped away.  She was headed toward District 25.  That was the ‘hood she was from.

 

$$$

 

              “Goddamn, Ant D, where the fuck is yo’ crazy ass sister at?  Man, ever since we been kids, her ass be late for shit,” said Mike.

              It had been a few days since Ant D and Mike’s last lick, and their close encounter with the law.  They had laid low for a couple of days, so they were thirsty.  The partners yearned another opportunity to showcase their fundraising skills, so they were both anxious to hear the information they hoped Meka had obtained.                                                    

             Ant shook his head, and said, “Ain’t no tellin’, dog. But she’ll pop up in a minute.”                                        

             “Ant, Mike, y’all hungry? Y’all want something to eat?” asked Gloria, from the kitchen door.       

             “What you cookin’ on, mama?”                                                                              

             “Some fried chicken,” Gloria responded.                                                             

             “Damn right,” said Ant D.                                                                                        

             Mike rubbed his hands together, and said, “Yeah, Ms. D, let me get some of that too. Don’t
nobody
in the south fry that barnyard pimp like you!”                                                                               

             Gloria headed in the kitchen, and began to bread the chicken with her own secret blend of flour and an assortment of spices that gave her chicken its own special flavor. Then she dropped each piece into a deep fryer that was filled with hot grease.

              At about 12:40 P.M. Meka walked through the back door and smelled the aroma of the fried chicken Gloria was in the kitchen whipping up.                                                                             

             “Damn, mama, you got this house smellin’ good!” exclaimed Meka.                                          

             “Hey, baby. Your brother and Mike are in the living room. I’ll bring the food out in a second. Soon as I get through.”                                                                            

             “Alright, mama.” Meka walked into the living room and sat down on the black leather couch across from her twin brother, and crossed her thick legs.                                                           

             “Where the fuck you been at girl!?” asked Ant D, jumping up from the chair he was sitting in. “I told yo’ ass to be here at 12!”                                                                                                                             

             “Look, nigga, sit yo’ ass the fuck down. How many times I gotta tell yo’ fuckin’ ass that you my brother, and
not
my fuckin’ daddy.  Okay?  Hey Mike.”                                                                                   

             “What’s poppin, Meka? I see yo’ ass still can’t get nowhere on time,” said Mike, chuckling.                                                                                                              

             “You know what? Fuck
both
y’all niggas,” Meka replied.                                          

             “Alright, alright, let’s kill the bullshit, and get down to business,” Ant D said, sitting back down in the plush leather recliner. “Did you finally find out where that nigga Twan got his shit at?”                                

             “Yeah,” replied Meka. “It took me a lil’ minute, but he finally broke down and showed me the safe. It’s in his bedroom closet.”                                                                            

             “Damn… stupid ass niggas still keeping safes in their closet? Muh’fuckas must think this shit is a fuckin’ movie, or one of them fairytale ass street books they livin’ in, or something,” Mike said incredulously. “And how the fuck did you get him to show you that anyway?” inquired Mike.                                                                                                          

             “Just the best pussy that clown ass nigga ever got in his life! This thang I got between my legs is straight crack, nigga.  No Arm and Hammer, no cut, nigga. Straight drop! One hit, and you hooked,” Meka said, giggling.                                     

             “When you gon’ let me get a lil’ sample then?” joked Mike.                                     

             “In your fuckin’ dreams,” Meka retorted. She knew he was only playing though.  They’d been through so much shit over the years, Mike was truly like a real brother to her.                                                                                    

BOOK: ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT)
3.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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