The Corner III (No Way Out) (36 page)

“Let’s get the money,” Anthony said.

*     *     *

Trish was still on Slim’s lap as he answered his cell. She slipped her tongue in his other ear making him feel good.

“What’s up, is it done?”

Anthony told him, “More than we thought. It has to be close to two million. We would have never found that shit without Boogie. It was in a false wall. No wonder they didn’t have a lot of niggas in the house, it was no need.”

“Hook Boogie up with his ends, and I’ll see you in the evening so we can get Dmitri his money and our organization headed in the right direction. Now, let me chill with my future wife.”

Preview of The Corner 4, Phoenix and Lies, Lust, Consequences on the following pages
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Also By Alex Richardson:

The Corner (Slim’s Revenge)

The Corner II ( The Queenpin)

Phoenix

Lies, Lust, Consequences

Lines Crossed (the true story of an undercover cop)

THE CORNER 4 PREVIEW

DC sat at the round table in the hotel room of the Motel 6 tapping his lighter on the cheap wood. He wanted to fire up a blunt but decided to wait until the deal was over. He needed to be on alert while dealing with men he didn’t know. DC had been getting his drugs from his cousin Cookie who was getting supplied by Shaun. He was getting the drugs at a much better price than they were going for in Memphis and with the drought he was making a killing. DC stood, poured a shot of Crown Royal whiskey into the glass that sat on the table. He dropped some ice cubes from the ice bucket into the brown liquor and thought about how a lot of the men down here in the south drank the drink. He sipped then swallowed. The liquor slightly burned as it went down but he immediately felt better. He checked his watch then walked to the bathroom. He still had about fifteen minutes before his company was due to arrive.

After relieving himself, DC, went to the sink and threw some water on his face. He didn’t use a towel; he simply wiped his face with his hands a couple of times. He grasped the sink, leaned forward, and studied his reflection that was staring at him. He looked at the mirror then touched the scar that was on his head. A reminder of the blow Reese had given him with pistol the night that his best friend, Noonie, was supposed to execute him, but decided to let him go free. Noonie had spared his life but told him to get out of Chicago. That he was to never come back and to never contact anyone. That he was considered dead the way Slim wanted him. DC had slipped up and caused Slim to lose money, and brought an undercover cop into their organization. It was a mistake that DC never intended on making, but there are rules in the game and DC had to be dealt with. The only thing was Slim had sent Noonie to do the job, but he couldn’t kill his best friend.

DC had lost a little weight the past year and a half. In the mirror was a reflection of a six foot, one hundred and seventy-five pound man, fifteen pounds lighter than he was when he was living in the city. Living like a damn gypsy could do that to a man. But he was on the come up. Word on the streets started ringing about him having that good shit and he started blowing up like nitro. He’d stacked his paper spending only enough to get by on and to have a little fun with, and also to trick a little with his girl, Tammie. A young hood rat who he’d meet when he first came to Memphis. She lived a block from his grandmother and had reeled in the city slick DC as soon as he hit the block. She was his plug. Some cats from Murfreesboro, a city southeast of Nashville were on their way to meet him. Tammie said that they were friends of her cousin and they were looking for a lick. She labeled the men as slow and new to the game. He was buying a half a kilo from DC for ten thousand and also giving DC a couple of pistols and a Mac-10. The automatic weapon was something DC thought he would need since he bowing up. Getting paper made other men jealous and hungry. Hungry enough to take your shit. By hook or crook and DC wasn’t going out like that.

The prepaid cell vibrated on DC’s hip.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“We pulling up, baby,” Tammie said.

DC walked to the bed and picked up the small .22 automatic he’d purchased from a youngster who’d lost all his cash in a crap game.

“A’ight,” DC said, then hung up the phone. He then grabbed the black gym bag that had the cocaine in it and slid it under the bed knowing that in a hotel room there wasn’t many hiding places. It was his last kilo but that was okay, Cookie was on her way to drop off another shipment.

Headlights lit up the ground floor hotel room then within seconds they were off. DC slid the pistol in his waistband then quickly threw his white tee on to conceal the weapon. He trusted Tammie but had to be safe.

DC heard the giggling of Tammie and the muffled sound of a man’s voice. There was light tapping on the door. DC pulled the curtain back slightly and saw Tammie with a slender male.

“DC, it’s us, baby,” she said. Her voice was cheerful, but that cheerfulness seemed forced. The hairs on the back of DC’s neck rose like a porcupine on defense. He slid the chain back but hesitated for a second as he grabbed the door knob.

DC thought about the fact that Tammie’s cousin pressed the issue about adding in the guns as payment. Something just didn’t sit well with him, but he opened the door anyway.

Tammie walked in first and behind her was a thick built man. DC noticed the clean cut and average joe haircut.

The man said, “What’s up, cool?” He extended his closed fist to give DC some dap. “Von,” he said, telling DC his name.

DC didn’t give the man any dap. He closed the door, and in monotone, he said, “What’s up?”

Von said, “Ain’t shit, happening. You got that work?”

DC looked at Tammie with a stoic look painted on his face. “You check him?”

“He ain’t got no gun on him,” Tammie hissed, then plopped herself down on the cheap bed.

DC frowned at her. “A wire, bitch. Did you check him for a wire?”

Her neck craned, “I told you, he’s my cousin.”

DC turned to Von who raised his hands to his chest and said, “Everything is cool, dog. I understand you being careful and all. But I ain’t one time.”

DC, said, “Raise your hands.”

“What?”

DC pulled his pistol, but held it down to his side. “Raise your hands, nigga! I don’t know you.”

Tammie hissed, “Why are you trippin’, DC? He’s my cousin.”

DC looked Von over. He thought for a moment, then said, “I ain’t got shit on me right now nigga. I was just feeling your ass out. I’ll let you know what’s happenin’.”

Von frowned then barked, “What?”

DC, returned the tone, yelling, “Step nigga. I gotta talk shit over with your cuz. We’ll hit you up later and let you know the deal. I had to feel you out.”

“Ah’ight, dog. Ah’ight. Holla at me.” He looked at Tammie. “Get wit’ me.”

Von unlocked the door and left the apartment.

“What the fuck, DC?” Tammie barked as she sprang from the bed.

“Bitch, shut the fuck up!” he told her as he carefully peeked through the curtain. He watched as Von walked to his old school Monte Carlo and pulled off.

Once Von was out the lot, and his taillights faded as he drove down the street, DC turned to Tammie, “Bitch, that nigga ain’t your motherfuckin’ cousin! Now you got like yesterday to come clean.”

“DC, you trippin’, I told you, Von’s cool!”

“Fuck that nigga. He’s the police!” DC spat as he grabbed the Bible from the table. He opened it and pulled the zip-lock bag that was filled with powder and rock cocaine from inside.

DC had hollowed out the religious book to hide his drugs in.

Tammie rose from the bed and pushed DC on the shoulder. She spat, “You got the shit and you ain’t even sell it to him? Your stupid ass!” She turned her back and headed to the bathroom. “I’m through with you. And you call yourself a hustler. Chicago niggas must be lame.” She slammed the door behind her.

Fuck that bitch. Something ain’t right,
he thought as he gathered his things. DC shoved the cocaine in his drawers then adjusted the bag so that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable on his private parts. He glanced back at the bathroom door and shook his head. “Shady bitch,” he mumbled.

He left out the door and paused to scan the parking lot. It was fairly empty but the hairs on DC’s neck were still raised like a porcupine’s, and rightfully so. Within seconds the parking lot was lit up like a Christmas tree—red, blue, white and yellow. Federal, city and county vehicles had the hotel lot surrounded.

DC thought about running but had nowhere to go. He was frozen. Fear overwhelmed him but was quickly replaced with rage. He then bolted back inside the room. Tammie had come out the bathroom and was looking out the window. When DC rushed back inside she was startled.

DC slammed the door then quickly locked it as three agents dressed in jeans and t-shirts that had DEA boldly embroidered on the back rushed toward him.

Tammie, shrieked, “What the fuck, DC.”

DC’s eyes showed hatred toward the woman he’d been sleeping with since his stay in the south.

Southern voices barked from the other side of the door. Voices of lawmen and they barked for DC to open the door.

DC knew there was no escape, he only ran back inside the hotel room for only one thing. Without saying a word he drew back his arm, then like a slingshot it came forward and his fist connected with Tammie’s nose. He felt the cartilage crunch and blood instantly shot from her face. DC smiled as she fell to the cheap carpeted floor. He’d broken her nose and knocked her out cold.

“Trick bitch,” he spat, then opened the door. Agents rushed in threw him to the floor and he fell almost as fast as Tammie did only he was being handcuffed and she was being attended to.

Preview of Phoenix

Leonard watched as Tone pulled into the lot of Walgreen’s. He knew the Acura that had factory rims and legal tint on it as one of Tone’s vehicles—and so did the men who were parked down the street in the undercover Tahoe.

“What’s up, T?”

“Get in,” was all Tone said while keeping his engine running.

Leonard, who was dressed in slacks and a sharp looking button-down shirt, sat in the passenger’s seat. He asked the baggy jean shorts, crisp white T and white Air Force Ones wearing hustler, “What’s up, dawg? I got the loot in the car.”

“I wanna holla at you for a sec.”  Tone scanned the area then continued. “Nigga, you lucky you cool with my peeps NuNu. Why you ain’t tell him about this shit? Is it ’cause he’d clown yo’ ass since y’all got mad loot from them bank licks.”