Anything for Profit 2: Nothing to Lose (17 page)

In a matter of seconds, the mall was complete bedlam. Over the gunshots, Ant heard somebody yell out “get down.” Breya and Kyra finally shut the fuck up and dropped to the ground. Patrons scrambled for cover. Tables and chairs were flipped over as people panicked. Drinks and food spilled. Screams of terror filled the air, mixed with the sound of automatic gunfire. The two Mexicans looked deranged. They kept yelling as they unloaded their weapons. Their voices were drowned out by the destruction they were inflicting.

Ant saw Tony’s bloody, mangled body drop to the ground. Lil G turned and ran like he was trying out for the NFL. Big Cook returned fire with his .50 caliber Dessert Eagle, but he was severely outgunned. Ant didn’t know where the hell those crazy ass Mexicans came from and he didn’t give a shit. He needed to get the fuck out of the mall. It was only a matter of time before it would be flooded with police. He’d be trapped. Gun in hand, he crouched down and ran in the opposite direction. At the end of the food court, Ant made a sharp left and dashed into Dilliard’s.

Once inside the store, he ran even faster. He knocked over racks of clothes. “Bitch, get the fuck out my way,” Ant exclaimed as he knocked an elderly white woman to the ground in desperation. He kept running until he reached the automatic doors that led outside. Since he couldn’t leave from the food court, this was the only other exit close enough to his car that would give him a chance to avoid capture.

The automatic doors slid open. Ant D stopped running and walked outside as calmly as he possibly could. The cool December air felt good upon his sweaty skin. He tried to force himself to breathe easy. Ant was breathing hard from the physical exertion. The mixture of adrenaline and cocaine had his heart racing. He saw the flashing lights of police cars rapidly approaching from Haywood Rd. and began walking more briskly.

It wasn’t until Ant reached for his keys that he realized that he was still holding the gun in his hand. He hurriedly tucked it back into his waistband. As soon as he got close enough he used the remote to unlock the Corvette and start it up. He lifted the door, hopped in and backed his vehicle out of the parking space.

The parking lot was chaotic as other people were rushing to their vehicles as well. Everybody was trying to get the hell out of dodge. Ant was anxious. He had to get out of there before the police shut shit down and started setting up roadblocks. Traffic was inching along at a snail’s pace. Fuck! When he finally got out of the mall parking lot he peeled left. Greenville County police cars raced pass him in the opposite direction. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. Damn that shit was close!

CHAPTER 17

In a cheap motel on the outskirts of Greenville County, a silver haired white man grunted loudly as he thrust deeper into the tight pussy of the young Mexican girl lying beneath him. His expensive red silk tie was loosened. The top button of his freshly starched shirt was undone. His underwear and slacks were around his ankles and he still had his shoes on. The man was too embarrassed by his body to get completely naked. Plus he was in a rush.

The girl lay there silently as the man used her adolescent flesh for his sick enjoyment. The young girl’s name was Yessica. She had been a sex slave for over a year. Sadly, at the age of 13 she was accustomed to being used and abused for the perverted pleasure of others.

Yessica Delacruz was one of the many sex slaves owned by the Mexican Mafia. At the age of 11, she had been abducted from her hometown in Oaxaca, Mexico. Her innocence was brutally snatched from her. For months she was repeatedly raped and tortured by her captors. She was then thrown into a cage and told that if she ever tried to escape that her entire family would be murdered. At the beginning of her captivity, Yessica spent hours crying and calling out to God to save her. Her tears did no good. Her calls to God went unanswered. Eventually the tears stopped, and so did her belief in God.

The men who had kidnapped Yessica ended up selling her for 100 American Dollars to a member of M2. To The Mexican Mafia, the trafficking of underaged girls into the United States for sex was just another lucrative business opportunity to be exploited. It was only a matter of time before Yessica was smuggled into America and thrown into a run-down trailer full of girls like her. Their ages ranged anywhere from 11 to 18. The girls worked in shifts and were supplied to any pervert with enough cash to pay for their sick sexual appetites. A lot of people would be shocked to find out that these clients mainly consisted of the community’s so called leaders. Lawyers, Professors, Police Officers, Doctors and Politicians were all frequent customers.

The old man’s lustful grunts became louder, his breathing more rapid. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. He closed his eyes tightly and shoved his penis deeper and more forcefully into Yessica’s adolescent vagina. She wrapped her thin arms around his neck and her long sinewy legs around his waist. In Spanish she whispered how much she hated his guts; how much she wished his little dick would fall off and that he would die. Her voice was so soft. The old gringo thought she was whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Yessica smiled inwardly. It was a small triumph, but she relished it.

Yessica moaned. It wasn’t because she was enjoying herself. She did it because she knew that’s what they liked. The men that used her body needed to feel she liked what they were doing to her. It made it easier for them to go home and look their wives and children in the eye. It made the illusion of being an upstanding member of society more believable as they looked in the mirror and put on their suits and uniforms.

She moaned again; this time louder. At 13, Yessica had become very skilled at providing men old enough to be her grandfather their depraved sexual fantasies. But in reality, she was just a child and the man pumping in and out of her was just a sick freak. He had paid her handler handsomely for her services, so they were fucking. It wasn’t complicated. There were no emotions involved. Not for her at least. In fact, in her mind she wasn’t even there. Over time, Yessica had developed the ability to be with a customer physically while simultaneously letting her mind drift off to a place where she was just a regular little girl.

There was a cheap TV bolted down to a dilapidated nightstand in the motel room tuned into channel 4. It was early afternoon, so the soaps were still on. As her latest customer grunted and snorted like a pig on top of her young body, Yessica began watching the television. Her English was limited so she couldn’t understand what they were saying but she watched anyway. “I’m… about… to cum,” she heard the gringo say. She rolled her eyes. She’d didn’t need any translation for that. She’d heard those words often enough to understand them well. Yessica just wanted to be finished with this guy. She wasn’t feeling very well. Plus his sweaty ass smelled like a wet fucking dog.

“Oooh, yeah papi! Cum for me papi! Bust fat nut for me papi!” Yessica yelled out enthusiastically in her broken English. She was eager to get this fat fuck off of her. She squeezed the muscles of her vagina walls around his cock. Abruptly he pulled out of her and stood up. Hurriedly, he shuffled over to the side of the bed closest to Yessica’s face. He grabbed a handful of her long curly, jet black hair and pulled her closer while he beat off. Within seconds the old white man was jerking and trembling.

“Aaaargh!” Yessica managed to shut her mouth and eyes just before the old man exploded violently onto her face. She felt the sticky wetness of cum all over her face. The distinct scent of semen filled her nostrils as she calmly breathed through her nose. This wasn’t the first time a man had cum on her face.

Breathing heavily the silver haired man let go of her hair. For a brief second, he felt ashamed of himself. That second quickly passed. She had wanted it he thought to himself. She was a whore and had probably had far worse done to her, he rationalized. He continued to stand there looking down at Yessica, until the television interrupted his thoughts. The show that had been on was interrupted by a special news broadcast. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume to see what the hell was going on.

“…
this program to bring you live breaking news. Only moments ago, multiple gunshots were fired inside of Haywood Mall. So far, there has been speculation that there are several casualties, but News 4 cannot confirm that as of yet. As usual our very own Jennifer Henderson is live on the scene. Jennifer, what exactly happened? What have you been able to learn so far?”

“
Well it is complete chaos down here as you can see behind me.”
The news camera panned the area behind Jennifer showing women and children crying hysterically. People were running scared to their vehicles. There were numerous police cars and ambulances on the scene, lights flashing. All the major news channels were there reporting what was going on. Uniformed officers as well as plain clothed detectives were all over the place.
“I talked to a few people who were actually inside when the shooting began. However many of them weren’t able to give me very much detail about what happened. They say as soon as they heard the shots their first instinct was to get down and protect their children. So we don’t have a full idea of just what happened yet, but we do know multiple shots were fired inside of the mall. Greenville County Deputies are attempting to get a handle on things and contain the scene. They’re not saying it, but It seems to me that their biggest concern is that the perpetrators may have already fled the scene out of one of the mall’s many exits. But as of right now…”

He stared at the television intently and listened with a very serious look on his face. He hurriedly pulled up his pants. “Oww! Fuuuck!” He howled out in pain. He’d been in such a rush that he’d caught his penis in the zipper of his slacks. His face turned beet red with a mixture of embarrassment and pain.

Yessica could feel the semen sliding down the sides of her face. It felt like something nasty was crawling on her. She kept her eyes shut tight. She didn’t know what was going on, but she sensed the frantic movements of the man as he got dressed. She didn’t want to do anything to possibly upset him so she continued to lay there as still as possible. Semen mixed with the tears that slid out the corners of her eyes.

The old man snatched his suit jacket off the back of the cheap chair. Fully dressed, the old man had an air of power about him. On the way out the door, he absently tossed a fifty dollar bill onto the disheveled bed as a tip. It landed next to Yessica. He didn’t say anything or even bother to look back at Yessica as he exited the room. She was a whore. She had served her purpose and had been paid well for it. He had even tipped the little slut. Now it was time to get back to business and deal with this latest crisis. His constituents needed him. Mayor Bob White got into his brand new, fully loaded 2007 black Cadillac DTS and pulled out of the motel parking lot.

$$$

Dinero stoically watched the news broadcast. He was sitting in the living room of his plush downtown condo that overlooked the Reedy River. The images coming across his 62” flat screen TV was exactly the type of publicity he tried to avoid. He hated that shit. He hated the bloodshed. It drew too much attention to what had been a lucrative operation up until now. He was trying to get richer, not prove how tough he was.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he could sell drugs forever. No, unlike many of his predecessors, Dinero had an exit strategy. This war was slowing down that process dramatically. He pushed the power button on the remote. Angrily, he tossed it onto the couch and got up. Dinero walked outside onto his terrace. He took a deep breath of the cool December air into his lungs. He contemplated how to put an end to a war that he hadn’t started, but couldn’t afford to lose.

As he stood on the terrace of his $500,000 condo, Dinero reflected back on his less than meager beginnings. Surrounded by abject poverty, Hector vividly remembered growing up in Tijuana, one of Mexico’s most violent and poverty stricken cities.

Young Hector was born into a large family. The middle child, he had five brothers and three sisters. His father was a hard worker, but with so many mouths to feed, food was scarce. He remembered so many days where he’d be so hungry that he’d literally be dizzy. He began to steal food from local shop owners. Out of necessity, he began his life of crime. He never looked back.

After watching two men argue over a few pesos during a card game, an eight year old Hector witnessed his first murder. He quickly realized how cheap the value of life was. People would kill you for little or nothing. Nobody gave a fuck about you. In this world you had to take what you wanted. The lessons he learned in Tijuana would be the foundation upon which he based his decisions.

Far removed from the wretched ghettos of Tijuana, Dinero stood on the terrace of his condo overlooking Downtown Greenville. He contemplated his latest dilemma. He thought about something his mama would often say while she worked in her small garden. “Tomar la cabeza de una serpiente y el cuerpo va a morir”.
Take the head off a snake and the body will die.
His mama was dead now, but her words were never more valuable.
Dinero whispered the words to himself. A plan began to formulate as he absently played with the black rosary beads around his neck.