Chapter Twenty-Eight; Show's Over
Late Saturday Night
-November 21, 2007-
Janae looked hesitant as she walked upon the stage in the demly lit room. The spotlights layed on the stage and the two stripper poles. A staircase existed in the middle of the stage, setting the two poles apart. She remembered Kennedy's advice:
It's just like dancing in the mirror. Janae had never stripped a day in her life and never thought in a million years she would have to. She watched as Kennedy and Leah twirled around the poles. One of the four men's eyes had not left her since she had stepped from behind the curtain. It was clear that he was intrested & eager. Janae made her way towards him, switching her hips as she did so. Her leather boyshorts, which zipped from each side, hugged her ass tightly, and the thin leather top she wore set her chest on fire. Kennedy had splashed Nae & Tiffany in glitters, so Janae's body shimmered as she slowly stepped down the four steps. Tiffany had already occupied her guy. No one held an ass of her status, and her attire made her even more appealing for her, "occupation". Janae wondered how Tiffany could seem so involved. Before she knew it, she had made it to him. He grabbed her hand, removing her attention from Tiffany to him. "You into that?" he asked with a smirk on his face. As much as she wanted to tell him off, she knew she had a job to do. She looked over at Tiffany who gave her a wink. Janae nodded her head and inhaled deeply. "That's what im talkin bout," he said as Janae swung her right thigh over his lap.
***
"You got this shit?" Torrence asked. "Yeah, go get that," Ty said, letting Torrence know he could finish his mission. Torrence dissappeared into the dark hallway. He closed the door from the club, trapping himself and whoever else resided in the rooms behind the closed doors. His steps were quiet, he knew exactly where what he wanted was. As he made his way down the hallway, sex sounds erupted from every room he walked by. What another nigga put down wasn't his business nor his intrest. With his mask over his face and gloves on his hands, his identity could only be described as male, black male. He stood before the door that read "OFFICE". He listened for sounds, and sure enough Show had a young lady in his presence. Show was the owner of the club, and ALR had figured he had something to do with everything that had been going on. Torrence gripped his WalterNight as he kicked the door open.
"What the fuck?!" Show hissed as he watched his office door rip from it's frame. "Muthafucka!" he cursed as he looked at Rock's pistol. Rock had caught Show at the perfect time, with his pants down. There was nothing he could do. Rock's eyes glared at the young girl who had had her face burried between Show's forty-something-year-old legs. Torrence became diguested with Rachel. [Rachel is from earlier chapters, "The Courts" I think it is? Natasha's lil sis? Her Character is KeKe Palmer] "What the fuck you want?!" Show screamed in anger.
"Calm the fuck down. If you wanna walk up out this bitch you gone open up this muthafuckin safe," Rock spat back as he pointed his gun at the four foot safe that sat in the corner of the room. Show was defeated, and Rock dared for him to reach for a gun. He was getting whatever was in the safe; with or without Show's help.
"I'ma pull my shit up, I aint strapped," Show said calmly as his hands lowered to his waist.
"Hands on the fuckin desk!" Rock roared as he aimed his pistol closer to Show's head. "Get up," he said to Rachel, "Tell her the combination," Rock said as he looked at Show. Show had definately under estimated Rock. Rock used Show's bitch to do his dirty work for him, the less he touched, the less Police had to go by. Steam brewed from Show's ears as he said the combination through closed teeth.
"37-42-31," he said. There was absolutely nothing he could do. Rock had no plans on turning his back towards Show once he had what he wanted. "I want everything in that muthafucka," he said, speaking to Rachel while looking at a pissed off Show. Show couldn't stop himself from expressing his anger as he slammed his fist on his desk, "Fuck!" he groaned.
Rachel grabbed Show's duffle bag that sat on top of the safe. He had about 10 g's and two kilos. She grabbed his diamond chain and dropped it in the bag as well. Her hands shook violently, afraid of her fate once she gave the gunman what he wanted. Her sneaky hands had laced her panties with one stack and a few loose twenties & fifties. She cleared out Show's safe and zipped the duffle bag. Scarecly, she slid the bag across the floor towards the gunman. "You better kill me now muthafucka," Show spat. Now wasn't the time to test Rock. With all of the anger built up inside of him from Adrien's acts, he was a burning keg. Rock turned his face towards Rachel and told her to stand and turn around. Her young life was about to end, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She stood up slowly as tears ran down her cheeks. Her knees buckled beneath her as she looked at Show one last time. Trying to survive on her own had come back to bite her. She turned her body and closed her eyes so tight she thought her eye lids would rip. A wet, gooey sound hit the wall as Rachel waited to hear the gunshot go off. She waited, but there was no vail. Slowly she turned around to see Show's head leaning back with a bullet hole through his forhead. She looked for the guman, but he and the bag were gone; it was as if no one had been there. She wanted to cry at the gruesome scene, but she hated Show with ever bone in her body. He didn't deserve to die so quickly, so easily. Her shaky body walked over to the scene. She lifted her foot and pushed the rolling chair that heald Show's dead body to the side. She opened the drawers of his desk, grabbing the duffle bag he kept under his desk, she emptied every drawer. As she backed away, she noticed the bullet that had pilled through Show's brains stuck in the wall. She ripped it out and held it tight in her fist. This had set her free. Taking the exit door, she cleared the scene, looking back not once.
Torrence watched from his tinted windows as Rachel ran across the street, holding on to a duffle bag as if it were her life. He shook his head as he grabbed his walkie-talkie. "Show's Over," he spoke to everyone who had a microphone set. "Downstairs on lock," Ty replied. "Ladies?" Rome asked.
Added as I promised! Enjoy!
-Apologies for typos!
so what are y'all thinking about this whole thing?
what about Rachel??