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Jessica grinned like a lottery winner.
Finally, they were face to face, and Jessica could feel her pussy throbbing already. She loved his hair; it was long and silky like hers, and he wore it in a bun on top of his head. Sexy!
She gave him a kiss on the lips like they were a couple. “Hey.” She smiled.
“You ready?”
“Yes. Where we going?”
“Vegas!”
“Whoa! What? Excuse me, homes, did you say Vegas?”
“Yes, I’m taking you to Vegas, eh.”
“I didn’t pack. I have nothing to wear.”
“You’ll be okay, eh. I’m going to take you shopping out there.”
It was all happening too fast. He was definitively eccentric. But what did she have to lose? She did want to escape and she had never been to Las Vegas, though she’d once lived in L.A.
“A’ight, homes, Vegas it is then. Let’s go,” she said.
Maserati Meek grinned and nodded. “You’re fearless. It turns me on.” He put the car in drive and headed for John F. K
ennedy Airport in Queens.
Jessica was ready to enjoy herself, and in doing so, she planned on laying it down on Maserati Meek something special. She was ready to show him how special she really was. She sat back in the convertible Maserati. She could definitely get used to this.
Fourteen
Kip sat in the windowless interrogation room unworried, though he was a bit perturbed that cops brought him in for questioning on some crime. Whatever it was, he was innocent. He had nothing to say to the police. He wasn’t a snitch and he wasn’t a punk bitch. It was a routine he was used to. It wasn’t his first dance with detectives, and it damn sure wasn’t going to be his last. He lived that life and he was about that life, and that life came with run-ins with the law.
He sat in the metal chair at the long metal table. He had been waiting for over two hours in the room. Kip knew how cops worked. It was a game they liked to play. They would keep you in a room for a long time, watching you to see how you hold up under the stress of the unknown criminal charges.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Detective Albright walked in, followed by Detective Yang.
Kip glared at them, remaining silent.
Both men took a seat opposite him. Albright removed his fedora and placed it on the table. The standoff was about to begin.
“What y’all muthafuckas want?”
“We know you heard about the shooting in the park a few days ago,” Albright said. “Three dead.”
“I wasn’t there. I ain’t got shit to do with that,” Kip said.
“C’mon, Kip, your brother was there playing in a tournament, and we know he got into an argument with a man named Mark Sparks. Now this same man ends up dead.”
“My brother ain’t got shit to do wit’ no murder, and I don’t know any Mark Sparks.”
“So we gonna play this game, Kip?” Detective Yang chided.
“Call me Parker Brothers.”
Albright banged his fist on the metal table. “You think this is funny?”
“I think y’all got the wrong man up in this bitch,” Kip replied.
