Memphis Streets 4: Skeletons

Chapter 19- Le'Shelle

"Lucifer?" I ask, turning toward Snake.

I ain't gonna lie, the bitch's name has a way of making a heart skip a beat. After all, she and Dice popped up out of nowhere and mowed down half our wedding party.

"What the fuck do you want with that bitch?" Snake drops into the leather chair across from Diesel's desk.

"You can ask that shit after she and your sister's lil boyfriend turned our nuptials into a red wedding?" My smile twitches.

"You're thinking about extracting a payback?"

"Fuck yeah. I don't have patience for bitches who think they have bigger balls than I do. It's past time to check that bitch and her crew of cockroaches. They destroyed the Fat Monkey, the construction company, and even cost the set our Colombian connect with that massacre on that last delivery."

"That shit ain't on us," I argue, outraged. "McGriff cut that deal tryna sneak a come-up. For all we know they were in it together. Sheeiit. If you ask me, those muthafuckas got what they deserved. That's why I capped McGriff 's sneaky-ass bitch, too." Snake shakes his head.

"The shit is still on me. McGriff was my representative and I'm supposed to be in charge of protection. As far as the cartel is concerned, McGriff was operating under my authority. To heal any hurt feelings is gonna take a whole lot more cash than I have on hand. That's why I figure that we should go with Diesel's supplier so we can get some more candy on the streets quick and bring back our loyal customers."

"I know that you're not suggesting that crackheads have loyalty."

"No, but they value quality product. And Diesel here only fucks with that top-echelon shit that has never been stomped on. We're talking pure as fresh-driven snow. Muthafuckas down in the A can't get enough of it."

"Uh-huh." My gaze slices back to Diesel as he eases back in his chair with a cool, confident smile.

I know what he's doing and he knows that I know. My clit thumps again. It takes everything I have not to jump over the table and rape his fine ass. Fuck. I look away when I realize the thoughts I'm having inside my head right in front of my man. But I don't do it fast enough because when I look at Snake, he's staring dead at my ass.

"Like I said, cuz," Diesel continues like he doesn't notice shit. "Whatever you need, I got you. I'll call up a few of my top niggas from the A until we get everything set up here. We'll have our shit up and running in no time."

"Our shit," I correct him, not liking how he included himself. Diesel cocks his head. "Yeah. That's what I said." Slick muthafucka.

"Are you two finished?" Snake interrupts, irritated. "If we're going to move, then we're going to need to do it soon. With that dirty-ass Captain Smith finally off to suck on the devil's nut sack, the Cartel Lords' weapons supply is going to dry up. They're going to be on the hunt for a new connect. There are only a couple of muthafuckas arms dealing in the tri-state area. You," he says, looking at Diesel, "and those crazy-ass, racist, Hell's Angels–wannabe muthafuckas who want to help us speed up the city's genocide." He shrugs.

"Maybe there's one or two others I don't know about—but they would be the main ones." I know exactly who he's talking about.

"The Angels of Mercy? They would never go to them. Who would want to deal with those racist fuckers?"

"Business is business," Snake says. "Everybody's money is green."

"That it is." Diesel laughs, reaching for the phone. "Let's call them up."

My ass does a double take. "You know those assholes?" His laughter deepens.

"How in the hell do you think they get their shit?" Holy shit.

This nigga is deeper in the game than I thought. What makes this shit even slicker is that he has them on speed dial. I'm looking at him with brand-new eyes. Why doesn't Snake have that kind of reach? Diesel hits the speaker and we listen in.

"Yell-o?"

"Thor! How's my white nigga doin'?" Diesel greets heartily.

A deep-baritone laugh rumbles over the line. "Not so good if your ass is calling." They exchange brief chuckles.

"Look, my man. I need a solid from you."

"Yeah? There's a first time for everything," Thor says. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking to stake a mean bitch by the name of Lucifer. Heard of her?" A long pause hangs over the line. Everyone's brows go up as we exchange looks and then lean closer to the phone.

"She's on your radar?" Thor finally asks.

"Got her in my crosshairs. Has she come to you yet?"

"Been doin' business with her for a few months." I'm stunned.

What in the fuck did that shit mean? The Cartel Lords and Captain Smith split off before his death? "If you'd called a couple hours ago, I could've handed the phone over to her," Thor says.

"She placed an order?" Diesel asks.

"Yeah. Her and her crew—big niggers, about your size." Diesel's hand shoots out to pick up a pen.

"When and where are you supposed to deliver?"

"We got a warehouse off of Rivergate. It's a large order. We arranged delivery for next Friday night. Ten o'clock." Big smiles break across our faces as we hover over the phone.

"Tell you what, Thor. My cuz and I are gonna take that order off your hands and handle it personally."

"It's all yours, my black brother."