A Favor for a Favor Page 7

  ***

  “Damn, nigga. I was wonderin’ when you was gon’ come see a bitch again,” Deidra sassed, pressing her big titties into C-Note’s stomach and chest as they hugged. Being four months pregnant caused her already enormous breasts to get even bigger.

  “C’mon, shawty. You know I’m a busy man. Time is money.”

  “But I got cho baby. You don’t fuck wit’ Star no more. Why don’t chu spend more time wit’ me?”

  “Because I just told you. Time is money. You changin’ up now that you pregnant. You knew what it was from the jump. We was just kickin’ it. I don’t want no family.”

  “But chu got one. You shoulda thought about that before you started nuttin’ in me.”

  C-Note seen the argument about to start, so he stopped it before it could begin. “Stop. We ain’t finna go there. I told you we gon’ see what happen when it’s born. But I ain’t gon’ leave you fucked up. Here go a band.”

  She took the money eagerly, juggling her titties as she stuck the money in her bra. “Don’t chu wanna spend some time wit’ me? My sister at work, and I ain’t had no dick in a minute.”

  “Not today, shawty. I just wanted to drop you some paper. I’ma get up wit’ chu later.”

  Deidra looked like she wanted to cry. “For real, C-Note? That’s it?”

  “Yeah. I got some shit to do.”

  “You ain’t shit! G’on get me pregnant then leave me all fucked up. You bogus, nigga,” she pouted.

  C-Note pulled her close and tried to soften her up. “C’mon, baby. Don’t do this right now. I’ma get up wit’ chu later. For real. Hit me later.”

  Deidra smiled, enjoying the affection. “You for real? You gon’ come see me later?”

  “Yeah. You know I keep my word. I brought you the money, didn’t I?”

  “Okay. Thank you, boo-boo. I’ma call you later.”

  After a hug and a quick peck on the lips, C-Note stepped into the hallway. He didn’t see the goons until it was too late. They already had their guns out. All he could do was put his hands in the air.

  “You know what dis is, nigga! We want the safe,” one of them spoke as the other two searched him. They took thirty-five hundred dollars and a black 9 mm.

  “That’s all I got,” C-Note said.

  “Stop playin’. We know who you is, C-Note. We jumpin’ in the Audi and goin’ to yo’ spot. Try some bullshit and I’ma bust yo’ ass, nigga.”

  C-Note realized he had been set up. Deidra was a shysty bitch. But Pop Somethin’ was outside. It was time to see what his fifty Gs had paid for.

  He cooperated and they led him down a flight of stairs. They were almost at the front door when Pop Somethin’ made his move. He had the element of surprise. Nobody expected him. The jackers were caught off guard as the Desert Eagles boomed. C-Note ducked. Two jackers went down with holes in their faces and chests. The third one got off a couple shots, hitting Pop Somethin’ in the chest. He stumbled back and grimaced from the impact, but the vest absorbed the bullet. Pop quickly straightened up and gunned him down.

  “What apartment that bitch in?” Pop barked, murder in his eyes.

  “Upstairs. Apartment ten. But she might be pregnant wit’ my seed,” C-Note said.

  “That bitch set chu up. That baby ain’t yours. It’s prolly one of them dead niggas’ baby.”

  C-Note looked to the dead bodies lying on the floor. Deep down inside he knew Pop Somethin’ was right. While the hired killa went upstairs to finish off the final witness, C-Note went to the truck.

  When Pop Somethin’ got to apartment ten, he didn’t bother trying the door. He kicked it open and ran in. Deidra was nowhere to be found. He searched the house and found her in the bathtub, on the phone. Four .45 bullets to her face tore her shit apart.

  Chapter 9

  “Crist, when you go out, can you bring back some diapers and baby milk?” Carla asked.

  C-Note ignored his sister as he stepped in front of the bathroom mirror to check his face. His haircut was fresh, facial hair trimmed, and a shower had him feeling so fresh and so clean. He had two meetings today, both of them important to his future.

  More knocking on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Crist, I know you hear me. Trayvon need some diapers and milk.”

  C-Note snatched open the door and mugged his sister. “I heard you the first time. Damn. I got some shit to do. Call somebody and have them bring that shit. You got two baby daddies. Call one of them niggas.”

  Carla snarled her face. “You know I don’t fuck wit’ Rank, and I’m tired of Tray puttin’ his hands on me. That’s why I’m her wit’ chu.”

  “Well, you gotta get somebody else to go to the store for you. I told you, I got shit to do.”

  Carla huffed and puffed as the siblings had a stare-down. “Well, can you at least gimme some money to pay for it? I’ma give it back when I get my child support check.”

  C-Note shook his head as he grabbed his pants from his bathroom floor. After digging in his pockets, he shoved a hundred-dollar bill into Carla’s hand. “Whateva, man. Keep that shit. Did you find you a house yet?”

  “Nah. I’m still lookin’. I just need a li’l more time.”

  “A’ight. Do you need anything else? ‘Cause I gotta get dressed and get out of here.”

  “Nah, we good. Thanks, bruh.”

  C-Note closed the bathroom door and finished freshening up. He loved his big sister, but damn, her and her three kids were getting on his nerves. They had taken over his house, and every time he turned around, Carla had her hand out, asking for money. He couldn’t wait until she got her own shit again.

  After getting dressed, he left the house and hopped into his silver E-Class Benz. He had gotten rid of the Audi truck after the episode at Deidra’s sister’s apartment building and now exclusively drove the Benz. When he pulled into the hotel’s parking lot, he checked his phone again, re-reading the text. Room seven. His lucky number. After parking and taking a quick look around to make sure he wasn’t followed, he found the room and walked in.

  Sza’s The Weekend crooned from a radio. The lights were turned off, but candles on the dresser and bedside table had the room glowing. Rose petals were on the floor and all over the bed. Shanice lay on the bed of roses, sucking an ice cube. She wore white lingerie and high heels, looking like she was posing for a sexy photo shoot. A bottle of champagne on ice sat on the floor at the foot of the bed.

  “Damn, gurl! You sexy as a muthafucka!” C-Note said, pausing to stare at her.

  “Why do it halfway? You make me feel special, and I want to return the favor. You just gon’ stand there, or you gon’ do somethin’? Don’t you wanna know Victoria’s secret?”

  C-Note stripped out of his clothes and grabbed the bottle of Moet. While he drank from the bottle, Shanice grabbed her glass of champagne and crawled to the edge of the bed.

  “You drinkin’? Don’t you gotta go back to work?” he asked.

  “I took the rest of the day off. “When me and Nitty fuck, he really just trynna get a nut. With you, I feel a special connection. I got a lotta pent-up sexual frustration I need to release. How much time you got?”

  “However much time you need.”

  She grabbed his stick and stuck it in her glass of champagne. After using it to stir her drink, she sucked him into her mouth, staring into his eyes as she deep-throated him. A couple minutes later she dipped him into her glass again and sucked him some more. She kept at it ‘til C-Note was ready to bust. When he was on the verge, she jacked him off, catching his cum in her glass. C-Note watched her swirl his thick, white seed in the liquor. Then she downed it like a shot.

  “Mm. You taste good,” Shanice said, licking her lips.

  C-Note looked mesmerized. “Damn, gurl. You sexy as fuck!”

  “How you gon’ top that?” she challenged.

  C-Note grabbed an ice cube from the bucket and popped it in his mouth. When Shanice lay back on the bed, he licked her from neck to feet. The hot and co
ld feel of the ice and his mouth made her moan in pleasure. When the cube melted, he grabbed another and pulled off her lingerie. Shanice shivered when he ran the ice across her nipples. When the ice melted again, he just sucked her nipples with his hot mouth. She ground her pussy against his torso. When she was good and hot, he grabbed another ice cube, popped it in his mouth, and stuck his face in her pussy. Shanice went wild! The hot and cold on her clit made her cum immediately. C-Note didn’t stop. He used his tongue to push the ice in her pussy and then took his time sucking it out. Wave after wave of orgasm flowed through Shanice, making her body lock up. When he was done, all she could do was stare up at him, breathing like she had just run a race.

  “Don’t write no checks yo’ pussy can’t cash,” he bragged.

  Shanice smiled. “You did that, baby. But we ain’t done yet. I told you I got some pent-up sexual frustrations”

  C-Note crawled up her body and pinned her legs to her shoulders. After slipping his dick in, he paused, loving how tight and warm her pussy was. Then he beat it up. Shanice called his name and dug her nails into his skin as he fucked her. When they switched positions, she got on her knees and he got behind her.

  “Pull my hair!” Shanice told him.

  C-Note grabbed two hands of her shiny mane and fucked her. Shanice threw her ass back at him, using one hand to finger her clit and her other to massage his balls. C-Note slapped her ass and pulled her hair. Shanice busted first, crying out and shivering as the orgasm raced through her body. C-Note sped up, hitting it harder as his nut built up.

  “Don’t nut in me. Nut on me,” Shanice told him.

  When he was on the verge of erupting, C-Note pulled out his dick and began jacking off. Shanice flipped over and let him nut on her chest and stomach.

  “Damn, girl. Yo’ ass is a freak. Nitty stupid as fuck.”

  “I know. Now, don’t you wanna take a shower with me and help me get clean? Or do you wanna lay here and talk about how stupid my baby daddy is?”

  After another round of freaky-ass sex in the shower, they went back to the bed to chill. C-Note sipped champagne and smoked a blunt. Shanice didn’t indulge since she had to pick up her daughter from the daycare in a couple hours.

  “Yo’ cousin crazy as fuck. You know that, right?” C-Note said, thinking about how Pop Somethin’ saved his ass a couple days ago.

  “Paul is a good nigga, but that temper got a lotta niggas put in the dirt.”

  “I neva met nobody like him. You think I can trust him?”

  “Without a doubt. If he’s with you, he’s all the way with you. Just don’t let him find out about us.”

  C-Note gave her a look. “You more worried about Nitty catching us, or Pop?”

  “I’m worried about Nitty. You should be worried about Pop.”

  C-Note laughed. “You act like the nigga gon’ kill me or somethin’.”

  Shanice didn’t laugh.

  “Damn. You serious? Why he so protective over you?”

  “It’s a long story. But basically, my daddy told him to watch out for me before he died. Pop Somethin’ was there. They robbed a trap house. They almost got away, but somebody shot my daddy in the back while they was runnin’ out the house. My daddy died in Pop Somethin’s arms.”

  “Damn. When that happen?”

  “Almost fifteen years ago.”

  “Damn. That’s fucked up. But Pop only a couple years older than you, right? You sayin’ he was robbin’ traps when he was a li’l nigga?”

  “Yeah. I’m twenty-four. He twenty-eight. My daddy took him under his wings early, right after he moved with us from Jamaica. They had some kinda war goin’ on and his daddy died, so his momma sent him to live with us. He was seven or eight. My daddy and his daddy brothers. Pop basically worshipped our daddies. He was a wild child. Nobody could control him except our daddies. After my daddy died, I think he went crazy. Started robbin’ and shootin’ everybody. Had the whole city terrified. He was only twenty when he got locked up. Back then he was tall and skinny. Now he look like a monster with all those muscles, dreads, and that big-ass beard.”

  “That nigga is a monster!” C-Note said, replaying in his mind how easy and quickly Pop Somethin’ killed. “So, I hooked up wit’ a real killa, huh? You sure you wanna keep fuckin’ around? I fuck wit’ chu, Shanice, but I ain’t trynna get on Pop bad side.”

  Shanice pushed C-Note onto his back and climbed on top of him. “You mean to tell me you can just walk away? Just like that?”

  C-Note stared into her pretty face, getting lost in those seductive brown eyes. She was bad, and she had some good pussy, but she also had a crazy baby daddy and an even crazier cousin. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. They had been fucking for five months. He was feeling her. If it wasn’t for the crazy niggas in her life, he would’ve locked her down already. But as bad as he wanted to get out of bed and leave the hotel room, his desire to have as much of her time as possible outweighed rational thinking. “Damn, Shanice. You gon’ get me killed.”

  ***

  “Sergio, what’s good, dawg?” C-Note smiled, giving the dark-skinned Puerto Rican a pound and half-hug. Nobody noticed, but C-Note could feel the small, metal key slipped into his palm.

  “You got it, C-Note. Anytime I see you is a good thing.” He smiled, revealing diamond and platinum teeth.

  While the men talked, C-Note snuck a peek around the bus station to see if they were being watched. Everybody seemed to be minding their own business. “Same place?” he asked.

  “You know it,” Sergio smiled.

  “When I’ma see Big Poppi? It’s ‘bout time I meet the man at the top. No disrespect, bruh, but I got big plans, and I need to discuss them with the big man.”

  He laughed. “C’mon, C-Note. You know the deal. Poppi don’t play in the lake. He more of an ocean kind of fish. When the time is right, he’ll see you. Don’t rush progress. It’s a slow process.”

  C-Note’s spirit dampened a bit. He had high hopes on meeting the big man. When he met Sergio in prison, the Puerto Rican promised he had a connect on kilos for fifteen thousand. Turned out to be the real thing. They had only been doing business a short time, but C-Note was hustling good, and his money was constantly growing. Today he was buying twenty kilos. The transaction was always in a public place, mostly the bus station. He picked up from the lockers and dropped the money off in the back of the toilet.

  “Yeah, I hear you, man. Check the first stall.”

  “Okay, homes. Be cool. Stay safe.”

  It didn’t take C-Note long to find the locker. Number seven. This was the second time today he found goodies behind door number seven. A black girl behind the hotel door and 20 white girls behind the locker door.

  After grabbing the duffel bag, he left the bus station and stepped out into the bright Dallas sunlight. Cars revving their engines and tires screeching got his attention. A black Charger with tinted windows had jumped the sidewalk. Next to it was a black Camaro. Four men with automatic weapons jumped out of the cars. They wore black military-style uniforms. Silver badges hung from their necks.

  “Stay right there! Hands up! Don’t move!” they yelled.

  C-Note threw his hands high in the air, scared stiff. It was the DBA. The real alphabet boys. When the realization of what was happening registered in his mind, C-Note became panicked. Jail was hell for him. He couldn’t go back. Be had only been out six months. He had big plans. It couldn’t be over. Not like this.

  “Get down on the ground!” they yelled.

  The demanding voice snapped him from the trance he was in. The feds were surrounding him. He had to get rid of the dope. So he ran.

  “Hey! Stop! Freeze!”

  C-Note ignored the commands and ran for his life. Next to the bus terminal was a parking lot. That’s where he ran. The feds gave chase. He ran past a bus being loaded with suitcases and threw the duffel bag in the pile and kept running. They continued to chase, gaining on him. Then his lungs began to burn. He knew he w
ould be caught. The alphabet boys were in much better shape. About twenty yards later, a fed jumped onto his back, tackling him to the ground.

  “Damn, C-Note. Why the fuck you make us chase you?” the agent breathed as he cuffed C-Note.

  “’Cause y’all pulled guns on me. I ain’t trynna get shot.”

  “You heard me tell you to stop. You seen the badges. That’s how you get shot, moving when I say ‘don’t move.’”

  “C’mon, man. Why you puttin’ them cuffs on me? What y’all lookin’ for me for?”

  “Because you’re a drug dealer. We’re onto your boy, Big Papi. We don’t want you or Sergio. We want the big fish. Cooperate with the state’s attorney and you might walk.”

  “C’mon, man. I ain’t no snitch.”

  “Yeah. That’s what they all say.”

  ***

  Three days later

  “You sure this it? I shouldn’t even came and picked this nigga up. You know the feds take pictures and record everything. All our phones prolly tapped. Damn. I shoulda stayed home,” Lucci vented.

  “Chill, nigga. This our boy. If they was watchin’ him, then they know who we is anyway, and they woulda got us, too. We good. All we gotta do is chill right here. He should be out in a minute,” Artie said, relaxing in the passenger seat of the Jeep.

  “I didn’t even know the feds let you bail out. I thought once they had yo’ ass, it was over.”

  “Me too. But I never got popped, so I don’t really know. But here he go. Ask him.”

  C-Note climbed into the back of the SUV wearing a scared and nervous look. “What up, y’all? Good lookin’ on pickin’ me up.”

  “Fo’ sho. You a’ight? Nigga, yo’ ass look spooked,” Artie laughed.

  “Shit ain’t funny, nigga. The feds on my ass. This shit is serious.”