Jersey

1

I'm tired, sick and tired of holding someone down when their clearly pulling me down. I was once a girl with dreams and aspirations--the legal way. I wanted to be someone! A woman of business,a wife -hell even a mother. But now I'm stuck being the ex-girlfriend and partner of the famous Tri State drug dealer Jack Daniels. Yes like the liquor; shit I might have actually been drunk that whole relationship because I was a damn fool. I came up to the conclusion that I wanted someone to love me the way my father should have and would accept anything besides what I deserved. I was with Jack since I was sixteen and I'm nineteen now. Even though it seemed like a short period of time a lot can happen in three years. Fuck that, everything happened in three years I became a Queen pin, fell in love, got cheated on and scammed by the same nigga. Before Jack I had my own and after Jack I will always have my own. I owned my own weed cartel by the time I was sixteen thanks to my uncle Lucky: the only family member I dealt with on my father side. Thank god: It was perks to being Jamaican unlimited trips to Jamaica owning several ganja plantations without no one ever expected anything. But like the famous saying "what goes up must come down". They ain't never lied when they said " Never mix business with pleasure". But I did it anyway I wanted more so Jack and I partnered up he had the purest cocaine and I had the richest weed and together nothing stopped us except this one thing- his fucking greed.

Now that shit's hot in Jersey it's time to relocate. Moving to california was the best I could come up with at the moment because I knew I could make my money several ways. I had the freshest weed and no one could top that, and I had the fattest realest ass that no bitch In Cali could touch. So why not, the feds were looking for Jack because he got caught up in some bullshit he did to himself fucking greedy ass, how you want money you ain't work for? So to keep myself far away from that situation, it's better to leave now before I become the topic of discussion. Of course I still have my trap houses jumping in the Tri State but I'm going to manage them from afar.

Pulling up to my new home it's an condo complex in the heart of LA.It's luxury on a budget so it can blend well with my new cover up job. I parked my all black bentley and stepped out. Walking in a well lighted cold long parking lot I finally came to the elevator. I pressed the elevator button with my sharp claw shaped nail,it lit up green indicating that It should be here soon. I stepped back and smooth my versace dress out so it flowed correctly and not get stuck between my thick ass cheeks. why is it such a summer sex appeal for men they can't wait till it's summer time to see a dress get caught between a womans ass! "Ding" the bell rang telling me the elevator has arrived.I stepped in making sure my Tom Fords didn't get stuck between the gap. I pressed my floor number 12. Supposivly there is another person who lives on the same floor as me. From what I hear from the agency is it's a very successful as man and he is quite some eye candy. Whatever I ain't checking for anyone. I got off the elevator and came to my door 12A. I played with the lock for a minute until I got in. As soon as I stepped foot in my house I seen something out the corner of my eye. No one is suppose to be here. I pulled out my gun that I had customized It was a 9mm that was all rose gold with my name engraved onto KOKO short for Keaux Jaez (Co Jays). I quietly took off my shoes and began to creep further into the house. Nobody should fuck with me because I'm really bat shit crazy. Then before I could pull the trigger someone grabbed me "yeah bitch what took you so long?!" At this moment in time I knew I fucked up.

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