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“What comes after 69? Mouthwash,” Ahbou joked.
Everyone laughed. Ahbou was a natural comedian. Even Charlie couldn’t hold it in, bursting out laughing like she was at a Def Comedy Jam show.
“One more thing, ladies, if you ever get bored, do this—text the message, ‘I’m pregnant,’ to random mobile numbers and see what comes back,” he said.
“He is too much,” said Charlie.
“That’s why I love him. He keeps my day interesting,” said Mona.
Charlie and Ahbou locked eyes. He was attracted to her red hair and young beauty, and she was attracted to his charisma.
It didn’t take them long to fuck each other’s brains out in the bathroom. With the door locked, Ahbou curved Charlie over the bathroom sink, pulled down her jeans, ripped away her panties, spread her legs, and quickly thrust his hard dick inside of her. He was fucking her roughly in the doggystyle position while he watched their debauchery in the bathroom mirror. Charlie enjoyed having him inside of her. He was an average size, but he worked his dick like he was a giant, and he manhandled her body like it was a stop-and-frisk—cupping and squeezing her tits, massaging her clit, smacking her ass, and taking charge of her pussy.
“Ooooh, fuck me!” she cried out.
“Damn, you got some good fuckin’ pussy!”
He made her come, and she made him come. He loved every minute of it, and he wanted Charlie to be his main bitch.
She was down for it. There was something about Ahbou that Charlie enjoyed. It was easy to see that he was infatuated with her. Right away, he was willing to do anything for Charlie. Meanwhile, she saw an opportunity in fucking with a cop like Ahbou—give him some pussy, suck his dick, and he would become her protection with a badge on the streets.
It didn’t take long for Charlie to have Ahbou eating out of her hands. She freaked him like she was a porn star, sucking his dick in the front seat of the unmarked car and giving him pussy in the backseat or on the hood. It was their thing—fucking outdoors. Having sex in public turned him on, and Charlie used that to her advantage.
She used Ahbou to fuck with her enemies and her frenemies. She was giving him the names of her former friends and soon after, front doors were being kicked open by the police and raids were being carried out.
Wanda was one of them. Cops raided her place like she was a drug kingpin and found all kinds of stolen shit that she couldn’t explain. They placed the handcuffs on her and arrested her.
When Charlie found out that Landy was the first to spread the gossip about her and Chanel, she set her dog out on her for revenge. Ahbou was subtle with setting up the young girl with a few ounces of weed and a few ounces of cocaine. As she was walking home from the train station one night, detectives approached her and a female cop implemented a stop-and-frisk, resulting in the drug bust.
Landy became hysterical. She had no idea how weed and cocaine got in her bag. Tears ran down her face as she repeatedly exclaimed, “It’s not mine, officers. Please, I’m telling you, I don’t do drugs. It’s not mine!”
Landy didn’t want to go to jail, but the cops arrested her right there on the spot. She was put through the system and her life was immediately turned upside down.
Charlie was on cloud nine. She felt like a queen ruling over the peasants, and Ahbou was her knight in shining armor. She would give the nigga some pussy and some head, and he was at her beck and call.
Some days Charlie could be seen riding through the Brooklyn hood in the front seat of Ahbou’s unmarked cop car, pulling up on people in her old neighborhood. Everyone hated the ground she walked on, and they wanted her stopped. Meanwhile, she continued to point out dudes who she knew were riding dirty. The result was a spike in gun arrests, drug arrests, and grand larceny arrests—the whole gamut.
Charlie had become a snitch, but she didn’t see it that way. To her, it was only retribution. The projects had turned on her—disrespected her—and she was determined to get her revenge.
In the aftermath of Charlie’s rampage, there was an onslaught of complaints filed at Ahbou’s precinct, but the Civilian Complaint Review Board would never receive them. Ahbou was just one in a cluster of dirty cops in his precinct, and his sergeant was in on it too.
Chapter Seventeen
Mateo’s physical therapist, Kyle, was amazed by Mateo’s recovery. Mateo was determined to get better. He was on the fast track to becoming healthy and whole again. As the days ticked on, he started to notice that Chanel wasn’t coming to see him every day. Then it scaled back to maybe twice a week. Though he was getting better, he felt his support system fading. Mateo could see that something was wrong with Chanel, but she wouldn’t tell him what it was.
Chanel’s sudden distraction from him was just the motivation he needed. He began going above and beyond the expectations of his physical therapist. While Mateo was still somewhat bedridden, Kyle worked with him to strengthen his legs and upper body so he would eventually walk again.
The times when Chanel was there with him, she seemed distant all of a sudden. It was like her body was there physically, but mentally, she was someplace else. It never used to be like that. In the past, Chanel gave Mateo her undivided attention and support, talked to him, and prayed with him. Now, when he would ask her what was wrong, she would get an attitude and reply, “Nothing!”
Mateo could tell she was hiding something. He felt like he was losing the love of his life.
***
Chanel couldn’t put her finger on why she was so upset, but the more Mecca came to the apartment to see Pyro, the angrier she became. She told herself that she was trying to protect her best friend, but even she had a hard time believing it. The good thing was that she was able to hide her annoyance from Mecca after their argument. Mecca thought Chanel was glad that she and Pyro were getting close.
Mecca was happy she had found someone worth being with. She wanted a happy ending. She had fallen in love with Pyro, and she couldn’t go a da
y without seeing him. She wanted Pyro to put a ring on it someday.
