Crazy Summer (45 page)

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Authors: Cole Hart

BOOK: Crazy Summer
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Milky Way smiled before her tongue wrapped around Summer’s. She licked in the groove of her neck before going down to her hardened nipples.

Then she whispered, “Yes, but not as attractive as yourself.”

Summer instantly turned aggressive. She clutched a fist full of Milky Way’s hair and snatched her off of her. Milky Way’s facial expression changed and her eyes widened. Summer touched her clit in ways that couldn’t be described. Before long, Milky Way came long and hard, her body shivering uncontrollably. Then, without warning, she took her middle finger and shoved it in Milky Way’s ass. She screamed out in pain, but no one could hear her. Summer allowed her tongue to brush across Milky Way’s fat vagina, causing her to come again. This time, cum gushed out in thick hunks. She laid Milky Way flat on her stomach and began sucking passion marks all over her back and ass cheeks.

Suddenly, she stopped, got up, and walked in the bathroom to take a shower. Ten minutes later, she came back wrapped in a silk robe and her hair wrapped in a towel. Summer sat next to Milky Way, who hadn’t moved. Summer had broken her.

“You not showering?” Summer asked.

“If I wash you off me, I’m afraid I’ll lose you.” She sighed.

Summer stroked her hair and held her gaze. Young Milky Way had fallen in love. She was only twenty-one, and Summer had her just where she wanted her.

“Can you make it possible for me to meet your boyfriend?”

“He’ll do whatever I say.”

Summer placed a finger on her lips, then leaned down and kissed Milky Way on her cheek.

*****

 

Lil’ Danté and Kane had been robbed of their jewelry, the car, and every penny they had in their possession, which was over fifteen grand in cash they had between the two of them. Now they were naked and tied together with rope and duct tape; they were positioned with their backs up against one another.

The abandoned house they were in was located near Simpson Road where several A-framed houses were erected together. Out of anger, they tried twisting out of the tape, but it didn’t work. Two hours later, a junkie dressed in holey jeans and a worn army fatigue jacket crept through the rear door that led to the kitchen. A foul odor lingered in the air, and liquor bottles were strewn all over the place along with trash and needles. The junkie pulled his shooter from his pocket and packed it with crack cocaine. Just when he was about to take a hit, he heard a mumbling sound from the other room.

A curious look spread across his face. He removed his shooter from his mouth and pulled a raggedy .38 special from his back pocket. He aimed the gun and allowed it to lead the way. He used his cigarette lighter to see.

“Who da fuck dat is?” he shouted.

He kicked trash as he walked; his eyes were wide and intense. The junkie saw Kane and Lil’ Danté sitting helplessly on the floor in a puddle of stale urine. Surprised, the junkie eased closer and removed the tape from their mouths.

“Help us out of this shit,” Kane said angrily.

He did, and he would be rewarded.

The junkie found Kane and Lil’ Danté some clothes to wear and actually gave them cab fare so they could get where they needed to go. The south was closest, and the first thing they did was told Kane’s daddy what had happened. Believe it or not, he laughed.

Kane’s oldest uncle, Smoke, was in the house. He was midnight black with salt-and-pepper hair and huge hands.

“Y’all niggas ridin’ round in a Bentley like it’s all good. Niggas jackin’ every day, and everybody tryna get a dollar.”

Lil’ Danté studied the old head while listening carefully to everything he said.

“Them bitches from the club set us up.”

Kane stood up. “I’ma handle my business.”

“Sit yo’ ass down,” his daddy said in a high, aggressive tone.

Kane had never disrespected his father and wouldn’t dare start today. So, he took a seat.

“Y’all two gotta be patient,” he told them. “We’ll find out who’s behind it soon.”

“Them bitches from the club,” Lil’ Danté said.

His temper was overloading so bad that he started gritting his teeth, which was a bad habit he’d developed in the past couple of months. Veins ran through his forehead. He rose to his feet as if something had possessed him.

Moe stood and stopped him with force. “Where you goin’?” 

His deep voice was intimidating. He stood a few inches taller than Lil’ Danté, which made him have to stare up at Moe. His eyes were fire red.

“I need to get to the crib.”

“I’ve already talked to your mother and explained everything to her.”

Lil’ Danté gave a confused look. He shifted his eye contact to Kane, but he couldn’t tell much by just looking at him. He looked back at Moe.

“So what my mama got to do with this?”

There was a short silence, and then Big Moe responded, “Your mother thinks you movin’ too fast.”

“So she had us robbed?” Lil’ Danté’s voice grew harsher, and he became so angry that he was nearly in tears.

Smoke moved in and placed a huge hand on Lil’ Danté’s shoulder.

“We already know you’ll put in work, Danté. But the problem Summa has with you is you don’t listen too good. She says she can’t control you, and she needs the issue handled before it gets out of hand.”

“I need to speak to her.” He looked around. “Where’s da phone?”

“Nigga, calm yo’ lil’ ass down. Sit down,” Moe demanded.

Without hesitation, Lil’ Danté took a deep breath and politely sat down. He didn’t know what was next. All he knew was that his mother had flipped on him for no reason and that he wanted answers.

 

 

 

Chapter 65

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lil’ Danté had Smoke drop him off at the estate out in Alpharetta, Georgia. They were in a wine-colored Chrysler 300M with chrome factory rims. Lil’ Danté got out while Smoke waited. He punched in the code on the keypad, but the gate didn’t open. A confused look eased across his face.

He moved toward the twelve-foot fence. Then he looked up as if he was about to jump it. Out of nowhere, two huge German Shepherds came out and barged the fence. They barked loud and furiously; they definitely weren’t Lil’ Danté’s dogs. He backed away from the gate and stared up at the mounted surveillance cameras. His eyes beamed directly into the lenses.

“Where the fuck is my dogs?”

From the inside of Summer’s house, she stared at the screens that showed the front of her house. Lil’ Danté just stared angrily at the camera. She smiled and shook her head. She saw him walk away, get back in the car, and disappear from her view. His car was in the backyard. She had plans of giving it back to him, but he wouldn’t want it, not after Summer had done this to him.

After he was gone, she stood up and went to take a shower since her flight to L.A. was leaving in two hours.

 

*****

 

The following morning, Lil’ Danté stepped off the Greyhound bus in Augusta with nothing but the clothes on his back and a prepaid TracFone. He dialed the number of one of his partners that he boxed with. Someone answered from the other end, a groggy and sleepy voice.

“Hmmm. Hello.”

“Yeah, nigga, what da business is?”

“Who is dis?” the guy asked.

“Danté, nigga…from the set.”

“Damn, playa, it’s been a long time.”

Lil’ Danté looked around and spotted a cab. “Look, I jus’ got in town, and I need a favor.”

“Nigga, you got two brothas in the NBA. I should be gettin’ a favor from you.”

Lil’ Danté laughed; it wasn’t genuine, though. It was a laugh that he’d soon make everybody pay with.

“I’ma catch a cab yo’ way, and I’ma need you to pay for it.”

“Come on through. I gotcha.”

 

*****

 

Nearly two months later, the twins were in Atlanta at the condo on Peachtree Street in Buckhead. They were instant millionaires and swimming in money. They were dominant on and off the court. Today, they had a set of triplets, three beautiful sisters that Jermaine had ran into at a hotel in Chicago a week ago.

He and Jeremy were playing each other in a friendly game of NBA Live on the X-box. They were being treated like two kings on the same throne. All three females were naked except for their high-heel shoes. Three sets of firm tender breasts were bouncing around, their bodies oily and sweet smelling. Jermaine saw one of the beautiful naked bodies walk in front of the huge 76-inch flat screen. She was carrying a platter of fruit, all assorted flavors.

“Come here,” he called out.

She stopped, looked, and walked in his direction. She popped a grape in his mouth, and he munched on it. Without him having to ask, she dropped to her knees before him. She unzipped his pants without saying one word and removed his soft penis. Within seconds, he was hard and quickly inside of her warm mouth. The other two were all over the other twin. He was covered in a silk Versace robe, and no time was wasted. The five of them sexed each other for hours, until Jermaine got a call from Lil’ Danté on his cell phone. He told him he needed to see them both.

“We at the Phoenix, the condo.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, Lil’ Danté was coming up the elevator with a huge duffel bag filled with clothes and money, and a sawed off twelve-gauge that was shorter than his arm and had enough slugs to tear down a wall. He glanced upward at the illuminating numbers. When the number twenty-six glowed, the elevator jerked to a halt. Lil’ Danté snatched the heavy duffel bag, threw it across his shoulder, and walked out into the hallway. The elevator doors closed quickly behind him.

Jermaine stared through the peephole, but it was dark. Then he saw a bright burst of flames, and that’s all he remembered. He fell to the floor like a ragdoll. Blood and flesh stained the door, and a puddle seeped from his head and face. He was dead.

When Lil’ Danté came inside the apartment, he saw Jeremy running up the steps. He ran behind him with the reloaded sawed off. Lil’ Danté hit him in the spine of his back just as he reached the top of the steps. He’d lost his mind for sure. Summer had been acting, but he was dead serious.

Screams from the triplets filled the room. They ran toward the door and made it out before he could get a shot off. He turned back to his wounded brother who was lying naked on the floor breathing heavy; his nostrils smelled of blood. He was in a deadly spot, and he knew it.

Lil’ Danté reloaded the sawed off again with a single slug and allowed his back to slide down the wall. He sat next to his brother and lifted his head to his lap. Blood quickly soaked his clothes. Lil’ Danté rubbed his brother’s forehead. Tears were in both of their eyes.

“Mama was jus’ using us for pawns,” he whispered. Then he added, “I’m sorry.”

“We loved you, Danté. Why you doing this?” Jeremy panted, short of breath.

By the time the police and security came through the door, Lil’ Danté placed the twelve-gauge underneath his chin. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. His head rocked back to the wall, and it looked like his blood was hand painted on the wall. The gun slipped from his hand. It was over.

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