Authors: Treasure Hernandez
Resurrection (8 page)
Malek didn't know it, but Mitch was doing a “Donnie Brasco” on himâHe was playing both sides of the fence, and he was also a switch-hitter, down with that homo-thug shit. Right after Joe was murdered, Sweets had convinced Mitch to fuck with him, and they had a plan to not only divvy up the streets of Flint, but to also take over all of Detroit and split that down the middle as well. So although Mitch was telling Malek that the reason for the decline in money was due to the rehab center, he was just blowing smoke up Malek's ass. The real deal was that Mitch was robbing Malek blind.
Halleigh came walking through the living room on her way to her bedroom.
“Halleigh, come over here and meet my man,” Malek called out to her as he outstretched his arm for her to take her place within his embrace. She wore pink pajama shorts and a matching wife-beater.
She walked over toward the men, but Malek blocked her view of Mitch.
“Halleigh, this is my man, Mitch. Mitch, this is Halleigh,” Malek introduced as he wrapped his arm around Halleigh's shoulders.
Halleigh looked down at the man sitting on her couch and immediately recognized him. She felt as if she would lose the contents of her stomach, and her breaths became shallow as she stared at Mitch. The look in his eyes let her know that he knew who she was.
“Iâitâit's nice to meet you,” Halleigh said as she held out her hand.
Mitch, of course, knew exactly who Halleigh was. Keesha had been trying her hardest to describe her to Mitch, and when he saw the clip on the news of her getting her ass beat at the Pistons game, he immediately remembered paying to fuck Halleigh in the backseat of his car in the park on the day that Malek was shot.
He grabbed her hand gently and caressed it slightly. He wasn't going to bust her out, but he smiled and replied, “It's nice to meet you too, ma.” He held her hand a little longer than needed, and she pulled it back to avoid Malek's suspicion.
Halleigh couldn't help but notice how good Mitch looked in his butter Timberlands, Sean John jeans and button-up shirt. His caramel complexion looked good enough to eat. But then she felt disgusted with herself for even feeling the tiniest bit of attraction to him, and so she averted her eyes to the floor.
Malek looked at her and peeped her nervous energy. “What you nervous for?”
Halleigh looked up at him, her mouth still dropped down in an O of surprise. “I'm not,” she replied. “I'll be in the room.” She slipped from underneath his arms and high-tailed her ass out of the room.
Mitch's eyes discreetly followed Halleigh out of the room. He definitely remembered her tight-ass virgin pussy, and he knew that the only thing tighter than that was a nigga's asshole. She had the best pussy he'd ever had, and hoped that they would cross paths again. Now he was seeing her on the arm of his man.
He looked up at Malek and stood to his feet. “I'ma get out of here, fam,” he stated.
“A'ight, I'll get at you tomorrow, so we can get on that Sweets situation,” Malek replied as he slapped hands with his boy. He walked Mitch to the door and sighed when he thought of all the problems that had suddenly arisen. He definitely had a lot to deal with, and he didn't have a lot of time to do it.
Halleigh couldn't believe that Mitch was Malek's right-hand man. She couldn't believe that she had run into him again. Her heart racing nervously, she contemplated what she should do. Should she keep her mouth shut, or should she tell Malek what the deal was? He had been the first trick she had turned, and she remembered it as if it were yesterday. Her mind drifted back two years earlier, to the day she'd met him. . . .
“Ayo, ma, where you going?” a dude asked her as she walked by him. He was standing with his arms folded across his chest and a white bath towel draped over his head to shield his face from the hot sun.
Halleigh smiled as she continued to maneuver her way past them. The guy and all of his friends watched her backside as the natural sway of her hips commanded their attention.
Mimi stopped in mid-step, causing Halleigh to bump into her. Mimi looked at her like she was crazy.
“What?” Halleigh asked.
“Girl, you better go back over there and make that money,” Mimi stated. She glanced back at the group of dudes. “I'm trying to get down too. Them niggas is crazy paid. So go on and hook it up.” Mimi gave her a
light shove.
light shove.
Halleigh strutted back over to the group of dudes. “You checking for me?” she asked the guy that had called out to her.
He grabbed her hand and held it above her head as he watched her step in a full circle, her juicy ass cheeks shifting from side to side as she turned around.
“What's your name, ma?”
Before Halleigh could respond, Mimi cut in, “What's your government? You all into my girl shit. How about you let her know who you are and what you're about. Then she'll decide if you worth fucking with.” Mimi was arrogant and smart-mouthed, but her looks allowed her to be.
The dude smiled and rubbed his goatee as he looked at the two young girls in front of him. He figured they had to be only 17 or 18. He was 26, but he loved young pussy. “Chill, shorty. I'm Mitch,” he stated.
“Well, what's up? What you working with?” Mimi asked, her arched eyebrows raised in suspense.
“Damn! What are you, her pimp or something? Can I kick it to your girl for a minute?” he asked politely, though irritated.
“Do you, baby. All I'm saying is, time is money, ya feel me?” she replied as she rubbed her fingers together as if she were flipping through bills.
“For real? Y'all getting down like that? You mean all I got to do is pay for this pussy?” he asked in disbelief as he stared at Halleigh.
Halleigh's heart was beating out of her chest.
Mimi nudged her. “That's all it takes,” she responded in an embarrassed whisper.
“Shit, take a walk with me then, shorty,” he said as he grabbed her hand.
Before she walked away, Mimi grabbed her hand and whispered, “Get the money first.”
Halleigh nodded, and then she followed him to a '07 Cadillac Deville.
He opened the door for her. “Get in,” he stated.
“You got the cash?” she asked, nervously looking around.
“How much you taxing?” he asked. He couldn't believe that the gorgeous young girl in front of him was tricking.
How much am I supposed to charge this nigga? she thought. “Two fifty,” she stated, hoping that she didn't short-change herself.
He pulled out three hundred-dollar bills and handed them to her. She got into the car and felt her chest heave up and down as the small space became hot. Her hands began to sweat when she felt Mitch put his tongue on her neck.
“Come here, ma. Why you all over there?” he asked as he pulled out his manhood.
Just do it. Close your eyes and do what you got to do, she thought as she unbuttoned her shorts and eased out of them. She straddled him and grinded her hips as he touched her breasts, squeezing them a little bit too hard.
He slid her thong to the side, pulled out a condom, and slid it onto his throbbing dick.
Halleigh looked down at it. He was a decent size. He wasn't any bigger than Manolo, and she was grateful, because she didn't want it to hurt. She felt as if she were selling her soul to the devil when he put himself inside of her.
“Shit, ma, you a virgin?” he asked when he felt her tight walls. She gripped him, and he loved the way the inside of her felt.
A tear fell from her eyes as she stared out of the rear windshield and rode his dick at the same time.
“Damn, ma, you working it. Umm,” he stated as she performed her new job.
Halleigh couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her eyes. I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought.
When he finally came, she got off of him, wiped her eyes, put her shorts back on, and quickly exited the vehicle.
Halleigh snapped back into reality when Malek entered the room.
Malek could see the look on Halleigh's face and frowned. “You good?” he asked.
Halleigh knew that she must have been wearing her heart on her sleeve. Malek could always tell when something was on her mind. “Yeah, I'm good.”
Malek climbed into the bed beside her and massaged her back. The feelings of his hand on her body caused moisture to form between her legs. She was yearning for him and couldn't wait to have him inside of her.
Sex had always been equated to money with her. For the first time ever, she was intimate with a man, and it was her choice to give herself to him.
Malek looked into her eyes as he slipped two fingers into her opening, which was now dripping wet. Their faces were so close that they could feel each other's breath.
“I'm sorry for everything,” Halleigh whispered. She began to grind her hips as he fingered her.
“Shh!” he whispered. “You don't have anything to be sorry about.”
Malek had no idea that Halleigh was actually apologizing for having had sex with Mitch, his new right-hand man. He showered her body with kisses, beginning at her neck and making a trail down. His tongue caressed her erect nipples, and he tugged on them softly with his thick lips.
A moan escaped her lips as he continued to go south. He lifted her hips and lowered his head, French-kissing her middle. He gave her clit attention that she'd never experienced, causing her to scream out in pleasure. His mouth was warm, and the heat felt good on her swollen jewel. She began to grind against his face, her legs spreading wider as she came over and over again.
Malek's manhood hardened, and his nine inches grew. Halleigh's moans only intensified his hunger for her. His penis throbbed and pre-cum rested on the tip. He explored her lips with the tip of his dick, and the sensation of the wetness caused him to call out. “Shit,” he whispered as he eased himself into her.
Halleigh tensed up out of habit. She'd learned to fear sex. Being forced to prostitute herself had given her a misconception of sex. She held her breath when Malek entered her.
He looked down at her. Again, there were tears in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, I'm okay. Make love to me.”
“I would never hurt you, Halleigh,” he whispered as he rocked inside of her. He maneuvered in and out of her, catching a slow rhythm as he thrust passionately. He felt her body relax beneath him, and she matched his pumps intensely.
Malek's manhood was thick, and it stretched her walls as he brought her pleasure. Sweat glistening on hiss chest, he leaned into her and kissed her on the lips.
Halleigh moaned loudly as he deep-stroked her. She had been fucked before, but never had she felt the intense emotion that was connected to her lovemaking with Malek.
Halleigh's toes began to curl, and her face twisted in contortion as she felt herself climaxing. “Malek!” she called out as her back arched. “What are you doing to me?”
“Loving you,” he whispered as he watched her cum. The look on her face caused him to pump faster and deeper.
As the bed rocked and the headboard hit the wall, Halleigh could feel his manhood throbbing as he let off his seed inside of her, collapsing on top of her and kissing her forehead.
“I love you,” he told her.
“I love you, Malek,” she replied as she nestled in his arm and fell into a comfortable sleep.
Mitch couldn't believe that he had run into Halleigh again. After he fucked her, he had thought about her for weeks. He had even contacted Manolo to see how he could have her. But Manolo wasn't a fool. He knew that Halleigh was a hot commodity and wasn't to be sold.
When he saw her tonight, Mitch was happy that she had managed to stop selling her pussy. Although Manolo was his man, Mitch knew instinctively that Halleigh never should have been selling pussy because she was a good girl and wasn't built for that shit.
But he was saddened by the fact that Malek had gotten to her first. Halleigh was perfect. Her beauty was uncanny. He wouldn't hesitate to fuck her again if he got the chance. And, in fact, he was definitely gonna go after her as soon as Sweets bodied her man Malek. Mitch wouldn't violate his man by coming at her, but if Malek ever fucked up, he would make sure to be there to pick up the pieces.
Chapter Eleven
M
alek and Mitch sat in front of Big Al's, a local soul food spot. They had just ordered some food and were plotting on Sweets as they sat in the car and picked at their fried catfish dinners. They both had automatic pistols sitting in their laps and ski masks in the backseat. They had been staking out Sweets' house for hours, waiting for him to show his face. After seven hours of stalking, their hunger got the better of them, and they decided to call it a night.
alek and Mitch sat in front of Big Al's, a local soul food spot. They had just ordered some food and were plotting on Sweets as they sat in the car and picked at their fried catfish dinners. They both had automatic pistols sitting in their laps and ski masks in the backseat. They had been staking out Sweets' house for hours, waiting for him to show his face. After seven hours of stalking, their hunger got the better of them, and they decided to call it a night.
“You sure you trust that bitch? This is the crib, right?”
“Fam, I got this! Shorty wouldn't do me dirty. Let's bounce, but we gon' get this nigga. Trust me on this,” Mitch said.
Malek put his food back in the bag and started his car. He looked in his rearview mirror to observe the block. A few minutes passed as they continued to pick at their food, and just as they were about to drive away, a white Denali pulled into the parking lot. Sweets exited the car, and an entourage of killers followed him into the restaurant. It was obvious that Malek and Mitch would be outnumbered if they approached Sweets on some beef shit.
“Ain't this about a bitch? We've been trying to catch up with this nigga all day and here he is,” Mitch stated in mock disbelief, knowing that all the time that they had spent staking out Sweets' crib had been just a front on his part. He had known all along that Sweets wasn't home and that he wouldn't be home all day.
“We can't just rush up in there,” Malek stated more to himself than to Mitch. His mind was turning as he tried to devise a plan to get at Sweets. Murder was his motivation, and he wanted nothing more than to avenge Jamaica Joe's death. He knew that if he took an attempt on Sweets' life and failed, it would spark a bloody assault, if not an all-out blood bath, on his soldiers in the street. If Malek was gonna make a move on Sweets, he knew that he had to hit him and kill him. He couldn't take a shot at him and miss or simply wound him. Anything less than killing Sweets would further fuck up his money, so he had to put his anger aside and think strategically for a solution that was beneficial to everyone. Even if it meant giving Sweets a temporary pass.
“I know. He got them Shotta Boy niggas with him, and you know they stay strapped. We can't roll up in there with two pistols against all that,” Mitch said. He was referring to two of the Shotta Boyz, a group of blood brothers who were trained to be killers from the time that they'd learned to walk.
“Fuck it!” Malek stated. “I'ma give Sweets a chance to save his own life. It's like I told you: a war keep everybody's pockets on E. I'll let Sweets have the South Side back if I'm getting forty percent of the take and if he cops his weight from me.” Malek said that to test Mitch's response.
“You think he gon' go for that?” Mitch asked.
Wrong response, Malek thought.
He knew that if Mitch was really gangsta and riding with him, he would have been in fight mode and wouldn't want to be diplomatic about shit. Now Malek had to question just what was up with Mitch.
“Yo, fam, what was the chick's name who put you on to where Sweets rests at?”
Malek's question caught Mitch off guard.
“Eh? Oh, oh, Monica. The chick's name is Monica. She used to fuck with Sweets real heavy.”
“Fuck with him like how?” Malek asked.
Mitch didn't answer the question. Instead he tried to change the subject back to what Malek had mentioned just a few minutes ago. “So, yo, you really think he gon' go for that deal?” Mitch asked again.
Malek didn't press Mitch on the name of the chick, but he knew right then and there that Mitch more than likely had been bullshitting him the whole time. He played along with it. “He ain't gon' have a choice. He can either take these bullets courtesy of Jamaica Joe or fall in line,” Malek replied. He got out of the car and walked across the darkened parking lot.
Mitch reluctantly followed him. He knew that he could be walking into a potential death trap. If Sweets saw him with Malek, he would wonder if Mitch was really down with Malek. So Mitch strategically kept his hand on the handle of his chrome pistol as they headed into the restaurant.
Malek's adrenaline was pumping, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. Malek walked in, and the bell above the door rang, causing Sweets and his entourage to turn around.
Sweets' face turned up in disgust at the sight of Malek. He pulled the red Blow Pop from his mouth as he placed his hand near his waist.
Mitch nodded to Sweets, to let him know that everything was straight.
“Look at this mu'fucka,” Sweets said with a smirk, “living in Jamaica Joe's shadow and trying to run my side of town.”
The sound of Joe's name coming from Sweets' lips sent rage through Malek's heart. “You might wanna keep my man's name out your mouth, nah mean?”
The Shotta Boyz sent glaring stares his way, and Malek sent them right back.
“You lucky I'm not coming in here to twist your shit back behind that stunt you pulled at the Pistons game, but I'm about my bidness,” Malek said. “I hear that you're interested in getting your hood back.”
“I never lost my hood, fam,” Sweets replied with larceny in his heart. “Can't you tell? I mean, considering how you a businessman and all, ain't you curious why your money been so short lately?” Sweets winked at Malek and blew him a seductive kiss.
“See, I've got a problem with that 'cause them streets belong to me now. Ain't no North Side-South Side beef, 'cause all that paper coming to me. Now we can blaze out for them blocks if you want toâ” Malek pulled his nine out of his waist and let it rest in his hand by his side as he continued. Sweets saw the move and removed his pistol as wellâ“But you and I both know that wouldn't be a good thing. If we out here killing each other, we ain't making no money. Don't nobody like to watch over they back every minute, nah mean?”
Sweets wasn't a fool. He could see that Malek was setting up some sort of negotiation. He wasn't against that, but the way he saw it, Malek had to really sweeten the pot. Otherwise, Sweets would be shorting himself, especially since he was already getting a piece of Malek's money through Mitch.
“So what's up? Speak to me, young'un,” Sweets said.
“I'll give you your blocks back under two conditions,” Malek said. “One, you cop your work from me, and two, you give me forty percent of your profit.” Malek could see the anger behind Sweets' eyes.
“You must think it's a game, young'un. I run those blocks on the Southâ”
Before Sweets could finish his sentence, Malek raised his pistol and fired a shot into one of the goons standing behind Sweets.
Sweets' and Lynch's eyes bugged in anger. Lynch, the only remaining Shotta Boy, knew that he should've carried his pistol into the restaurant. Now he was naked and vulnerable, and they had no choice but to agree to Malek's terms.
“Uh-uh. Keep them hands up, baby,” Mitch said as he waved his gun back and forth between Sweets and Lynch.
“Like I said, we can beef out, but if you want to live, you'll accept my offer,” Malek added.
Sweets shook his head and laughed loudly. “A'ight, li'l nigga. You da man,” he said in a mocking tone.
“Good.”
Malek and Mitch backpedaled toward the door as they prepared to leave.
Before Malek was completely out of earshot, Sweets said, “Hey, Malek, how is your bitch doing?”
“What?” Malek asked, raising his voice.
Sweets snapped his fingers and said, “What's her name? Um, um . . . Halleigh, yeah, that's it.”
Malek shook his head, knowing that Sweets had just made a threat on Halleigh's life. He walked out of the restaurant and ran to his car, where he pulled out of the parking lot, his tires screeching as he peeled off.
Scratch, fiending for a fix, looked at the garbage can where Malek's worker had hid his stash. There was nothing worse than being on E and not having any money. Scratch itched his arms as he schemed on the unsuspecting block hustler. He looked at the other fiend that stood beside him. They peeked around the corner, and their desperation caused them to devise a plan.
Scratch laid out the instructions to the woman he'd just met, and they agreed as they went about their get-high mission. “Okay, look,” he said, “you go distract him with that ol' fish pussy you got, and Scratch will get the stash. Meet Scratch back in this alley, ya hear?”
Scratch watched with greed in his eyes as the raggedy-looking woman approached the young hustler on the block.
“Come on, daddy,” she said, “let me get something. I'll give you something if you give me something.” The woman dropped the dirty skirt and exposed her yellow- and brown-stained panties.
Scratched creeped up the block as the hustler responded.
“Bitch, get your ass out of here. If you ain't got the cash, you ain't got the coke,” the hustler responded, keeping his hands in his pockets.
Scratch silently walked over to the trash can and picked up the bag of crack rocks.
Just then, the hustler turned around and noticed him. “Yo, you stealing my shit!” he screamed as he approached Scratch and snatched him up by his collar.
“Ah, nah, young'un, Scratch don't mean you no harm,” Scratch explained nervously as he tried to shield his body from the hits of the young man.
The hustler raised his fist and brought it down over Scratch's face, causing his eyes to immediately swell.
“Aghh, man . . . wait!”
Scratch's cries didn't faze the hustler, but he was stopped by Halleigh's shouts as she ran up to the scene.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Halleigh screamed as she stepped out of her BMW. She was parked up the street from the busy salon when she saw Scratch getting jacked up on Malek's block. “Let him go!” she yelled as she stood back, her oversized Birkin bag hanging underneath her arm.
The hustler shoved Scratch away, out of respect for his boss' girl. He had never really seen Halleigh before, but he knew exactly who she was because of the car and expensive clothes that she sported.
Halleigh rushed over to Scratch and helped him up. His lip was busted, and he was bleeding as Halleigh led him to her car. “Are you okay?” she asked as she pulled away from the curb.
“Scratch is okay,” he replied. “It take a whole lot more than some young'un to take me out the game.”
Halleigh was worried. Scratch didn't look good, and she could tell that he hadn't been eating well. “Scratch, are you hungry?” she asked.
“A little bit,” he replied.
Halleigh knew that she was going to miss her scheduled hair appointment, but looking at Scratch, she could tell that he needed her. She drove to McDonald's and ordered Scratch some food. She watched as he scratched frantically at his arms, and tears came to her eyes. She knew how it felt to be “tweaking” and broke.
“Scratch, you're breaking my heart,” she said. “I know this is you, but do you ever think about shaking this shit?”
“Scratch think about it all the time, Li'l Rina, but once you're on it, there is no turning back. I've been on this dope for over ten years. Dope runs through Scratch's veins more than blood,” he explained.
Halleigh didn't reply as she watched him stuff the food into his mouth. She knew that he needed help, and she was determined to get him off the drugs. She didn't care how much he protested, he was going to get clean.
Halleigh rolled down her window as the stench from Scratch's body hit her nostrils. She tried her hardest not to frown up, but the smell was too much to tolerate. The stink from his body was permeating her leather seats, and she hoped that it wouldn't linger in her car after he was gone.
Scratch noticed Halleigh's twisted-up face and began to feel slightly embarrassed.
“It's okay, Li'l Rina. Where Scratch from, baths don't come easy. You can roll down ya winda. Scratch won't get offended.” Scratch rolled down his own window and stared at the passing city.
Halleigh silently thanked God that Scratch let down his window, letting her off the hook. She released a forced smiled and tried not to hurt Scratch's feelings too much. “It's okay, Scratch,” she lied. “I just got a bad headache, that's all.”
“Where we going anyway, Li'l Rina?” Scratch asked as he patted down his raggedy Afro.
“Scratch, would you do anything for me?” Halleigh asked, obviously trying to avoid his question.
“What kind of question is that? You know Scratch will do anything fo' you, girl,” Scratch said, displaying his brown, buttery teeth.
“Scratch, I want to help you get better. I'm taking you to a rehab to get you clean,” Halleigh said as she pulled into the Genesis Rehabilitation Center.
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