offshore bank accounts, the shit hit the fan all over Harlem.
Like his street daddy Capo, Mookie had been stacking paper for his retirement. But unlike Capo, Mookie didn’t plan on waiting until he was old as dirt to break out of the game. But now, with Irish orchestrating the Feds on his ass, everything Mookie had worked for was at risk. He could fuck around and lose his entire bankroll just because some old-ass washed-up G couldn’t keep his daughter in his fuckin’ yard.
The more he thought about it, the madder Mookie got.
And when Mookie got mad, shit happened and it happened in a major way. Deciding to get rid of Irish Baines was a no-brainer. That niggah had flapped his lips and sucked federal dick, and there was nothing street about that. Mookie sent his goonies to take care of Irish in a way he thought was most fitting. He’d show Irish what a dick down the throat could do to you. Thatniggah wanted to bring the heat down on Big Mookie? Well Mookie would light a fuckin’ bonfire under his natural ass!
Irish Baines didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with. But by the time the smoke cleared over his property Mookie was sure the old head had figured that shit out. Mookie had laughed like fuck as his manz Yoda described how Irish had cried and begged just like a bitch. Yoda had made sure Irish’s woman sucked Mookie’s metal dick real good, and he’d had even less mercy on the two little future hoes they’d found crying together in their bedroom.
Yeah, Mookie’s boyz had dealt with Irish in a brutal, gutter fashion, and the whole time they were handling Irish, Mookie was across town at Club Humpz handling the thievin’ bitch who had started it all: Diamond.
Yeah. All them Baineses had been served. It wasn’t business either. That shit was personal! Chaos had been coming down on his empire because of Irish, and Mookie was glad that niggah and his family were burned and gone.
Problem solved!
Mookie was happy as fuck. Without Irish pushing the issue the Feds had eased off somewhat and moved on to cases that were much easier to trace and prosecute. And now that Irish was nothing more than hood dust and that bullshit little center of his was on the rocks, Mookie’s business revenue was about to pick up lovely.
T he first few weeks after the murder of her family members were pure hell for Pearl. She was staying at Cole’s apartment because she wasn’t capable of being alone. Carlita came by to check on her every day after work, and her niece Zoe called Pearl with words of sympathy and support several times a week. Pearl hadn’t heard a word from Diamond since the night before their birthday, nor had her twin shown up at the funeral or at the cemetery to see their loved ones put in the ground.
It was hard for Pearl not to go crazy thinking about where Diamond could be or what could be happening to her, but it was even harder to accept the fact she’d never hear her mother’s sweet voice again or never again be able to call on her father for wisdom or advice. But the hardest thing was the knowledge that she’d never kiss or hug her daughter Sasha again, and that she’d never have a chance to explain to her child why she hadn’t been more of a mother to her during her short, beautiful life.
The funerals had been heart wrenching. Twice Pearl had lunged from her seat and tried to climb on top of her mother’s closed coffin. And twice Carlita and Zoe had broken into tears as several men held Pearl down while she kicked and screamed that her baby girl couldn’t breathe down inside that fuckin’ box!
And now, no matter where she was or what she was doing, Pearl just couldn’t get Sasha’s cries out of her ears. Her daughter’s spirit haunted her from the grave. Pearl just couldn’t stop seeing Sasha’s beautiful face or hearing her choking, anguished pleas for help as she suffered a cruel and heartless death that no child should ever have to bear.
Pearl also went through anguished bouts of guilt
Like his street daddy Capo, Mookie had been stacking paper for his retirement. But unlike Capo, Mookie didn’t plan on waiting until he was old as dirt to break out of the game. But now, with Irish orchestrating the Feds on his ass, everything Mookie had worked for was at risk. He could fuck around and lose his entire bankroll just because some old-ass washed-up G couldn’t keep his daughter in his fuckin’ yard.
The more he thought about it, the madder Mookie got.
And when Mookie got mad, shit happened and it happened in a major way. Deciding to get rid of Irish Baines was a no-brainer. That niggah had flapped his lips and sucked federal dick, and there was nothing street about that. Mookie sent his goonies to take care of Irish in a way he thought was most fitting. He’d show Irish what a dick down the throat could do to you. Thatniggah wanted to bring the heat down on Big Mookie? Well Mookie would light a fuckin’ bonfire under his natural ass!
Irish Baines didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with. But by the time the smoke cleared over his property Mookie was sure the old head had figured that shit out. Mookie had laughed like fuck as his manz Yoda described how Irish had cried and begged just like a bitch. Yoda had made sure Irish’s woman sucked Mookie’s metal dick real good, and he’d had even less mercy on the two little future hoes they’d found crying together in their bedroom.
Yeah, Mookie’s boyz had dealt with Irish in a brutal, gutter fashion, and the whole time they were handling Irish, Mookie was across town at Club Humpz handling the thievin’ bitch who had started it all: Diamond.
Yeah. All them Baineses had been served. It wasn’t business either. That shit was personal! Chaos had been coming down on his empire because of Irish, and Mookie was glad that niggah and his family were burned and gone.
Problem solved!
Mookie was happy as fuck. Without Irish pushing the issue the Feds had eased off somewhat and moved on to cases that were much easier to trace and prosecute. And now that Irish was nothing more than hood dust and that bullshit little center of his was on the rocks, Mookie’s business revenue was about to pick up lovely.
T he first few weeks after the murder of her family members were pure hell for Pearl. She was staying at Cole’s apartment because she wasn’t capable of being alone. Carlita came by to check on her every day after work, and her niece Zoe called Pearl with words of sympathy and support several times a week. Pearl hadn’t heard a word from Diamond since the night before their birthday, nor had her twin shown up at the funeral or at the cemetery to see their loved ones put in the ground.
It was hard for Pearl not to go crazy thinking about where Diamond could be or what could be happening to her, but it was even harder to accept the fact she’d never hear her mother’s sweet voice again or never again be able to call on her father for wisdom or advice. But the hardest thing was the knowledge that she’d never kiss or hug her daughter Sasha again, and that she’d never have a chance to explain to her child why she hadn’t been more of a mother to her during her short, beautiful life.
The funerals had been heart wrenching. Twice Pearl had lunged from her seat and tried to climb on top of her mother’s closed coffin. And twice Carlita and Zoe had broken into tears as several men held Pearl down while she kicked and screamed that her baby girl couldn’t breathe down inside that fuckin’ box!
And now, no matter where she was or what she was doing, Pearl just couldn’t get Sasha’s cries out of her ears. Her daughter’s spirit haunted her from the grave. Pearl just couldn’t stop seeing Sasha’s beautiful face or hearing her choking, anguished pleas for help as she suffered a cruel and heartless death that no child should ever have to bear.
Pearl also went through anguished bouts of guilt
Similar Books
