The Corner III (No Way Out) by Alex Richardson, Lu Ann Wells
Authors: Alex Richardson, Lu Ann Wells
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her. They were women who were under her control. They were all dykes who did as told—by Elisa that is. She’d met the women while doing time and had control over them while locked up in Lincoln Correction Center. It was there where Elisa controlled several women with her mind and violence. She learned at an early age, when she realized she liked women and not men that all she had to do was employ tactics like the pimps she used to watch in the old movies, and she could control women just as men did.
The women were in a basement standing and sitting at a buffet-type table that had the cocaine Greg and Shaun had dropped off on it. They cracked open the packages and began weighing, separating and cooking it into crack. Sitting on a stool watching was a rather large bald man holding a sawed off shotgun and wearing a shoulder holster with a .45 caliber automatic in it.
One woman was taking her time, and that’s when Elisa smacked her upside the head. “Bitch, get a move on it. We ain’t got all night. You want to get paid, and you want some of this, you need to get to work,” she said as she grabbed her crotch then kissed the woman hard on the lips.
The man shook his head at the lesbian scene, and that’s when they heard a loud commotion upstairs. Then the words POLICE being yelled by some men. The man jumped from the stool and looked at a black and white monitor that showed men standing on the other side of the secure metal door up the stairs. He looked over his shoulder at the women. “Y’all bitches know what to do!”
Elisa yelled, “Get a move on it, hoes!”
Elisa and the women began flushing the drugs in the toilet and washing them down the sink as the police were banging on the door with the battering ram.
“Hurry the fuck up!” the man with the shotgun yelled knowing that eventually the police would get through the door.
The women had worked quick and efficiently, and Elisa was dumping the last package of cocaine down the drain when she yelled, “The bleach bitch!”
One of the women grabbed the two bottles of bleach, handed one to Elisa, and she used the other. They poured the bleach down the drain on the table and around the toilet. Everywhere cocaine could have fallen. They all were throwing their rubber gloves and all the packaging in a metal garbage can when the door finally opened. Elisa glanced at the detectives as they ran down the stairs. She squirted lighter fluid in the can and set the items on fire.
The man with the shotgun had set his weapons on the ground, and Spivey was cuffing him. Rivera and Johnson rushed toward the women. Rivera realized that they had gotten rid of all the drugs and was pissed.
“Nothing going here, detective. We were just about to party with our man over there. What, y’all crashing the orgy?” she laughed.
Rivera punched Elisa in the nose and the butch of a woman’s head snapped back violently. “The dope may be gone, but you’re gonna tell me where the money is, bitch!”
* * *
“What you got?” Styles said into his phone as he sat in his Dodge Charger.
Spivey said, “The dope’s gone—”
“I figured that with their layout. The boy said they’d flush it if hit. It’s their money I want.”
“That’s the thing, Styles, the dyke bitch is tough. Rivera whipped her ass like she was a dude, and she still didn’t give up shit.”
“If they have the dope, then the niggas who left have the money. Let me give Barnes a call, he’s on ’em. Just sit tight until I call you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Styles called Detectives Barnes who was in a red Mustang, keeping a loose tail on the two men who had just left the drug house in a black Maxima.
* * *
Shaun drove the Nissan Maxima the speed limit as he cruised through the South Deering neighborhood of the south side. He and Greg had just dropped off ten kilos at Elisa’s house on 93 rd Street. Greg’s cell rang, and he noticed the number.
He answered,
The women were in a basement standing and sitting at a buffet-type table that had the cocaine Greg and Shaun had dropped off on it. They cracked open the packages and began weighing, separating and cooking it into crack. Sitting on a stool watching was a rather large bald man holding a sawed off shotgun and wearing a shoulder holster with a .45 caliber automatic in it.
One woman was taking her time, and that’s when Elisa smacked her upside the head. “Bitch, get a move on it. We ain’t got all night. You want to get paid, and you want some of this, you need to get to work,” she said as she grabbed her crotch then kissed the woman hard on the lips.
The man shook his head at the lesbian scene, and that’s when they heard a loud commotion upstairs. Then the words POLICE being yelled by some men. The man jumped from the stool and looked at a black and white monitor that showed men standing on the other side of the secure metal door up the stairs. He looked over his shoulder at the women. “Y’all bitches know what to do!”
Elisa yelled, “Get a move on it, hoes!”
Elisa and the women began flushing the drugs in the toilet and washing them down the sink as the police were banging on the door with the battering ram.
“Hurry the fuck up!” the man with the shotgun yelled knowing that eventually the police would get through the door.
The women had worked quick and efficiently, and Elisa was dumping the last package of cocaine down the drain when she yelled, “The bleach bitch!”
One of the women grabbed the two bottles of bleach, handed one to Elisa, and she used the other. They poured the bleach down the drain on the table and around the toilet. Everywhere cocaine could have fallen. They all were throwing their rubber gloves and all the packaging in a metal garbage can when the door finally opened. Elisa glanced at the detectives as they ran down the stairs. She squirted lighter fluid in the can and set the items on fire.
The man with the shotgun had set his weapons on the ground, and Spivey was cuffing him. Rivera and Johnson rushed toward the women. Rivera realized that they had gotten rid of all the drugs and was pissed.
“Nothing going here, detective. We were just about to party with our man over there. What, y’all crashing the orgy?” she laughed.
Rivera punched Elisa in the nose and the butch of a woman’s head snapped back violently. “The dope may be gone, but you’re gonna tell me where the money is, bitch!”
* * *
“What you got?” Styles said into his phone as he sat in his Dodge Charger.
Spivey said, “The dope’s gone—”
“I figured that with their layout. The boy said they’d flush it if hit. It’s their money I want.”
“That’s the thing, Styles, the dyke bitch is tough. Rivera whipped her ass like she was a dude, and she still didn’t give up shit.”
“If they have the dope, then the niggas who left have the money. Let me give Barnes a call, he’s on ’em. Just sit tight until I call you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Styles called Detectives Barnes who was in a red Mustang, keeping a loose tail on the two men who had just left the drug house in a black Maxima.
* * *
Shaun drove the Nissan Maxima the speed limit as he cruised through the South Deering neighborhood of the south side. He and Greg had just dropped off ten kilos at Elisa’s house on 93 rd Street. Greg’s cell rang, and he noticed the number.
He answered,
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