Greed the 3rd Deadly Sin KINDLE Page 4

  “Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice high and shattering as it bounced off the cold walls.

  “Help! Help! Help!” I shrieked and banged over and over again, even louder. My voice was so pitiful and it held so much terror that I barely recognized it myself. “Let me out! Please! Somebody…help!” I cried and whimpered like a baby as I beat the hell outta that door. “Please, please! Open the door and let me out! Oh God help me! Please let me out!”

  “Shut up and go to sleep,” a gruff voice came from the cell on my left. It was more sleepy than mean. “You all right, girl,” she said. “Everything is cool. Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you. Just take your ass to sleep.”

  It took me a few minutes, but I eventually started to calm down. I was finally able to stop crying when I realized that whoever had spoken was right. Wasn’t no crew of gangsta niggahs coming to rape me, I realized in the darkness. I wasn’t beat down and locked away in the basement of the G-Spot. My ass was under arrest and locked away in jail.

  I staggered over to the hard bed and collapsed down on it, and with my fists clenching the thin wool blanket I’d been given, I did what the chick in the cell next to me had told me to do. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 8

  “I’ll keep you my dirty little secret…” Slick Sallie sang along with his favorite band, The All American Rejects. It was almost dark but he was completely comfortable cruising the mean streets of Compton with the top down on the flashy, green BMW convertible.

  The neighborhood was crime-ridden and dilapidated, but Sallie felt absolutely no fear as he leaned back in the plush leather seats and nodded his head to the sounds of the nerdy white-boy band that blared from the speakers.

  He drove slowly but deliberately, and both his expensive whip and his pale skin attracted curious stares from the young dope dealers and stick-up kids who were clustered on almost every corner.

  Sallie grilled the thugs the same way they grilled him. There was raw aggression in their eyes, but there was mutual respect there too because Sallie wasn’t the type of white boy who punked out in the presence of dangerous Black men..

  Sallie turned his white-boy music up louder and sang off-key at the top of his lungs. He was totally aware that one well-placed bullet fired from the gat of any one of the corner thugs would smash his dome like a tomato. But life on the streets was tough. If it went down it just went down.

  But even from a distance he could tell how much they admired him. Slick Sallie with his white skin, flashy car, and cocky demeanor symbolized the best of American greed, power, and materialism. And what urban hoodfella didn’t respect that?

  Greed was Sallie’s middle name. Hardbody power oozed from his pores. He flowed with the kind of swagger that let you know you were in the presence of a man with muscle and clout. Which was why when he pulled up near a dark corner where working girls peddled their goodies, a whole slew of half-naked chicks swarmed around his ride like flies on a honey bun.

  “That’s right,” Sallie laughed as the excited whores beat each other back trying to be the first to get up in his ride. He knew what they were thinking: Here was a young, clean-cut white boy who was paid in the pockets and would get his shit off in five minutes flat!

  Boy, were they wrong!

  “That’s right, ladies,” he repeated. “Come to Papa!”

  A thick, brown-skinned young thing who was jostling in the middle of the pack caught Sallie’s attention.

  “Hey, fall back!” he told a scrawny geriatric hoe who had thrown her long skinny leg over the side of the passenger door and was trying to climb in beside him.

  “I want that one,” he pointed. “Yeah,” he confirmed when the hot-cocoa young beauty aimed her thumb at her own chest and smiled.

  “Yeah,” Slick Sallie said. His eyes raked down her small waist and curvy hips and his voice was already growing thick with anticipation. “That’s right. I want you.”

  $$$$$

  Sallie hated the thought of spending his good money on a grimy motel room when Juicy’s spacious two-bedroom condo was just sitting there empty, but he couldn’t risk getting caught slumming around in her territory. His uncle Frankie had a security guard keeping an eye on the place, and Sallie had no doubt that if he pulled up in the hot green beemer the old guy would have been on the horn ratting to his uncle in two seconds flat.

  Of course, he could have fucked the whore in the car, or up against a brick wall, or right out there in the open on the streets if he really wanted to, but what he had planned for tonight required the utmost privacy.

  He drove to one of the hot-sheet motels he frequented whenever he cruised in these parts. After parking in a shadowy corner of the lot, he paid for the room by the hour and took the young girl inside.

  “You want some water?” Sallie nodded toward a rusted-out sink as she stood in the middle of the stuffy room and stripped off her short skirt and skimpy top. He sucked in his breath at the sight of her bodacious curves and flawless, milk chocolate skin.

  Staring at him from green contact lenses, she shook her head no, and her cheap hairweave moved stiffly back and forth around her shoulders.

  Sallie walked up on her and cupped the soft hunks of her bare ass.

  “I need the money first,” she said in a shy, tender voice.

  Sallie nodded. He’d chosen the right one tonight. She sounded so young and sweet. Not rough and worn-out like most of the hookers on the track.

  He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a twenty, which he set on the nightstand. He would give her a little bit more later on if she didn’t put up a fuss or object to what he wanted to do to her.

  Sallie pulled back the worn, dingy sheets on the bed and told her to get in and lay flat on her back with her legs spread open and her arms stretched out over her head.

  “I’m gonna tie you up,” he said calmly, “but I swear I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  The girl bucked and propped herself up on her elbows.

  “I can’t let you tie me up,” she said, panic rising in her voice.

  “Relax.” Sallie pushed her back down gently. He pulled a jumble of flexi-cuffs from his pocket and quickly fastened her right wrist to the bedpost. “I’ll pay you double,” he said, digging into his back pocket again. He pulled out two more twenties and tossed them on the night table next to the first one. “No, make that triple. And I swear to God I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  Moments later Sallie had the girl tied up spread-eagle. He stared down at her luscious black body and could hardly keep himself from attacking her.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you…” he whispered over and over as he pulled off his clothing and stretched out naked on top of her. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  She was so warm and soft that it was unreal, and the contrast between their skin tones freaked him out. He could feel her trembling beneath him, and he pecked small, tender kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and chin.

  And then he moved lower.

  He licked the girl’s neck, and trailed his tongue all the way from her collarbone to her erect left nipple.

  Sallie sighed as he cupped her firm breast and took the small raisin in his mouth. He sucked and licked like crazy, swallowing every so often, swearing all out that her dark skin truly tasted like sweet milk chocolate.

  He squeezed her plump titties close together and lapped back and forth at her nipples. His dick was harder than a diamond and it pulsated with the hot blood that had engorged its pink, mushroom-shaped head.

  Sallie hadn’t been lying when he told the girl that he wasn’t going to hurt her. He wasn’t. Fucking a black chick was his number one fantasy, and there was no white girl who tasted anywhere near as good, or who could even come close to satisfying his insatiable craving for chocolate pussy.

  He dropped his head lower and licked a wet trail down her tight stomach and stuck his tongue in her navel. The smell of her cheap perfume rose from her crotch, but that wasn’t what Sallie’s nose craved at
all.

  Moaning, he inserted his pale finger into her slick snatch and marveled at how thick and creamy her juices were. He slid his finger in and out of her as her hips gyrated on the bed and her pelvis rose to meet his thrusts.

  Sallie nodded with approval as small noises of delight came from the young girl’s throat. He wasn’t the average trick, this he knew. Most men picked up girls off the street seeking their own pleasure. But Sallie, in his own perverted way, was a pleasure-giver. His sexual fantasies involved being with this type of girl in a way that would never be acceptable in his real life.

  The girl’s slit was now hot and dripping as he fingered her deeply and stroked her clit. He could smell her now, too. That special scent that he’d been craving was now rising from her body and Sallie knew it was time for him to do exactly what he’d come to do.

  He parted his lips and dove face first into her black pussy. He rubbed his lips, nose, forehead and chin all over her creamy genitals. Her pubic hair was nothing like the long, plastic-like weave strands on her head. It was thick and puffy. Coarse and kinky. Just the way he loved it.

  His tongue found her swollen clit and swirled it like it was a chocolate tootsie pop. Using both hands, Sallie spread her pussy lips wider and furiously licked at the luscious hunk of chocolate with the sweet pink center. He fucked her with his tongue until she arched her back and screamed out and shuddered, and only then did he let himself go, spurting his load onto the shabby sheets and whipping his tongue back and forth against her pulsating clit.

  Even before the last drop of sperm had ejaculated from his dick, Sallie’s mood had completely changed. The girl lay there smiling, covered in sweat and panting. Her perfect breasts heaved and jiggled as she struggled to catch her breath in the wake of her intense orgasm.

  A feeling of deep shame washed over Sallie like an icy ocean. He staggered to his feet and glared down at the girl with a fearsome sneer. He pulled on his clothes without saying a word, and slipped into his shoes.

  He was heading out the door when the girl spoke.

  “Hey!” she said, her after-sex voice husky and sweet as she wiggled her hands and feet around in the restraints. “Don’t you have to do something for me?”

  That’s right. Sallie turned around.

  He walked back to the bed and stood over her. The sight of her filthy black skin filled him with hot disgrace, and the sour leftovers from her pussy juice lingered in his mouth and made his tongue itch.

  Without warning he pulled his fist back and buried it in the pit of her stomach as hard as he could.

  The girl umphed and farted as her eyeballs rolled up in her head. Sallie gut-drilled her again, and the air left her lungs as her stomach caved in and she went limp in her restraints.

  Wordlessly, Sallie turned around once more. He swept all three of his wrinkled twenty-dollar bills off the nightstand, then left the disgusting Black whore choking on her own vomit as he walked out the door. His first stop was gonna be the chop shop, and right after that he was heading directly back to the airport.

  $$$$$

  “No shit?” Mick Sanvenero asked, his liquored-up voice full of respect as he stared at the large metal safe. “Gino left this with you?”

  Slick Sallie nodded as he stood in his mother’s basement. It was three o’clock in the morning and he had just dropped Juicy’s car back off at the airport and parked it very close to where he had gotten it from earlier that day.

  Mick swigged from his shot glass. “How much loot you figure is in there?”

  “Half a mil.” Sallie shrugged. “Probably more.”

  Mick whistled. “Damn! Does the broad know you’re busting it? What if she comes back looking for it?”

  “She’s not coming back,” Sallie muttered under his breath as he thought about the pipe bomb that had been wired to the ignition switch in Juicy’s sexy green BMW just a couple of hours ago.

  After abandoning the dirty moolie prostitute at the motel, Sallie had driven to a chop shop run by a member of the Gambino crime family and watched as an explosive device was placed under the hood of the green beemer and rigged to the ignition of the idling car.

  “Whatever you do,” the shop’s owner, Big Earl, had warned him, “don’t cut off the car until you’re ready to get out of it. Because if for some reason you do turn it off and then you try to turn it back on…” The beefy-necked Italian threw his head back and laughed, “Boom! Smithereens! All gone! Both you and the car.”

  Sallie had driven straight back to the airport. He’d placed the keys under the floor mat where Juicy had left them, then called his cousin Mick for a ride home.

  “You’re really gonna crack that shit?” Mick asked as Sallie studied the physical mechanisms of the safe. “I thought Uncle Frankie told everybody to stay cool with the chick?”

  Sallie shrugged. Fuck Frankie and all his talk about La Cosa Nostra, respect, honor, and the old ways. It pissed Sallie off that they had run outta New York City like mutts with their tails tucked between their legs. Instead of running scared, they should have swissed somebody’s fuckin’ cheese and left a bunch of bullet-dotted bodies on the ground behind them.

  “Yo, Sallie,” Mick whined again. “You’re pretty sure Juicy isn’t gonna come back blabbing to nobody that we did this, right buddy?”

  Sallie gave his cousin a long, hard stare. Mick was slow, and he was a scary little shit too. But he was faithful and loyal, and Sallie knew his cousin would die before he snitched on him.

  “I already told you she’s not coming back, Mikhail,” Sallie assured him. And then he whispered under his breath, “Because if she comes back…BOOM! She’s dead.”

  $$$$$

  Three hours later the sun was just about to come up and Mick was leaning against a wine barrel fast asleep. Sallie was covered in sweat, and Gino’s safe sat battered and hacked at, but still firmly intact in the middle of the floor.

  No matter which way Sallie had tried to breach the damn thing, through the locking mechanism or by cutting into its iron core, he couldn’t get to the money inside to save his life.

  Wiping his face, Sallie remembered a strange telephone call he had received about eight months earlier. An old business partner from New York had been on the line asking him to help stash something Gino needed to hide.

  Sallie had owed his moolie friend a solid in a major way, so he had agreed. But now, sitting in a pile of metal shavings with his hands so damn ripped up that they were starting to bleed, Sallie couldn’t help but laugh.

  He was almost positive that his old friend had predicted his greed, and had helped Gino find a fuckin’ safe that was stronger than Fort Knox.

  Sallie shook his head. There was more than one way to crack a nut. Nothing was impossible, and there was a whole lotta money in that goddamn safe. He could practically smell it. And as soon as he came up with a way to bust that baby open, every dime of it was gonna be his.

  CHAPTER 9

  I had been in jail for less than twenty-four hours and I was already desperate to get the hell out. It felt like I had just drifted off to sleep good when I was awakened by the sound of the COs stomping up and down the hall and hollering for everybody to get up. I dragged myself to my feet and we went through the same type of headcount that we’d gone through several times the day before, and as I would learn, we would go through every single day that our asses belonged to the Department of Correction in the City of New York.

  Day two was no better than day one. Most of the women who were in with me looked desperate and beaten down by life. There were no ax-murderers, terrorists, or corporate white-collar criminals that I could see. Just a bunch of tired-looking minority females who had fallen down on their luck and landed flat on their asses.

  After breakfast, they made me line up with a bunch of other women. We watched as a chain-gang of busted-looking hoes, junkies, winos, and thieves were led staggering off a bus and into the building. They were handcuffed one to the next, and the bored-to-death guards were screaming at th
em to shut the hell up and stay in one straight line.

  We took some mug shots, and then we were all taken to an infirmary area where they made us sit in some kind of body-scanning chair that x-rayed our insides to make sure we weren’t bringing in contraband in our coochies or up our butts.

  “Williams!” one of the COs barked as she looked down at a clipboard. She was a real cute chocolate-skinned sister and her navy-blue uniform fit her curves like a cat suit. “You were supposed to come through here yesterday,” she bitched at me. “How come you’re just getting in here today?”

  I shrugged with my eyes popped open wide. Shit, I wasn’t no career criminal! I didn’t know none of the jailhouse rules! Besides, I wasn’t in charge of myself. Cause if I was, I woulda given myself a mandatory phone call and let myself out the side fuckin’ door!

  The tall Black female CO that I’d seen the day before was all over it.

  “I got her,” she said, quickly. She reached for my arm and led me toward another line. “There was a mix up with her paperwork but we’re fixing it right now.”

  The nametag on her uniform said Gaines, and she had been outside with the white guy, CO Allen, who had made me give him my money when I came in the door.

  “Don’t say shit,” she whispered me a warning. “Just roll with everybody else.”

  The next thing they did was give me a physical exam where I peed in a cup and let them take my blood. They said they were testing me for pregnancy, HIV, and a bunch of other diseases.

  I got to see a mental health counselor after that.