Part 2 of Chapter 22 Three and a Half Months Later ( Gabos )

“Oh, you wanna play tough guys. Look, bitch, if you wanna see this nigga alive again or yourself, you better tell him, to come up off that paper.”

“Look, please, please, I’ll take you to the bank in the morning and give you all the money you want,” the woman begged. “Please don’t kill us.”

“Bitch, shut your stupid ass up. Do I look stupid or something? If I don’t get that money tonight, somebody gonna meet the maker.” As Pokey finished what he was saying, in came Fatboy, Flick, and Turtle, shaking their heads.

“All is good, ain’t nobody here but them two, like the nigga said,” Fatboy said, looking at Mr. Big to find him knocked out.

“Look, I got a trick for this nigga ass,” Pokey said. “Look, Flick, go grab a pot of water out that kitchen right quick.” As Flick came back carrying a cold pot of water, he watched as Pokey took the pot from him and threw the ice cold water on Mr. Big, bringing him outta his sleep.

“What, what the fuck,” Mr. Big mumbled, looking up in the eyes of Pokey.

“Yeah, nigga, get your bitch ass up, it’s party time. Since you wanna play so tough, I’mma see just how tough you really is. If you don't hand over that loot I know you sitting on.”

“Nigga, like I said before fuck you, do what you gonna do.”

“All right, Rim, Lo-P, and y’all, this nigga still wanna play Superman, but y’all know they say, a way to a man’s money is through his heart. So I’mma see which one means the most, his money or his bitch,” Pokey said, walking over to the beautiful naked woman, with tears streaming down her face. As she turned and looked at Mr. Big, he mouth the words, “I love you,” but she knew in her heart, he wouldn’t let nothing happen to her. As she heard Pokey say, “What’s it gonna be, the money or your ride-or-die bitch?”

“Nigga, fuck you,” Mr. Big spat, this time reaching his target. As Pokey wiped the spit from his face, he looked at Mr. Big and said, “No, nigga, fuck you.” As he walked up to the woman, he forcibly pushed open the woman’s legs to expose her nude pussy. He then rammed three fingers inside her. As she tried to close her legs and scoot out the chair, to no avail, the rags that tied her down were too tight. All she could do was shed tears and hope her silent pleas would make this nigga stop, but it didn’t. As she looked at her husband for some help, with tears falling faster, he dropped his head in defeat, only picking it back up when he heard Pokey say, “Man, y’all untie this bitch, I got a trick for her ass. Since she seem to like this so much, she gonna love what I’m about to do to her.”

As Fatboy started to stop Pokey from doing what he knew was wrong, he heard Mr. Big say, “You niggas gone die,” and said, “Fuck it, GABOS.” As Pokey started feeling on her nice firm titties, while still playing in her pussy with the other hand, she begged him to stop.

“Please stop, I’ll tell you where the money at.”

“Bitch, shut up. If that’s the case you wouldn’t let shit get this far,” Pokey said, stopping what he was doing to say what he said. “You know what? Man, fuck this shit, y’all untie this bitch.” As Rim and Lo P untied the woman, Fatboy and Flick looked at each other, shaking their heads, ’cause they knew this wasn’t in the plan. But what could they do now? As the woman fell limp in Lo-P and Rim’s arms, she collapsed to the floor. “Man, pick that bitch up and put her on the couch. No, hold up, as a matter of fact, throw her over the arm of the couch ass out, so Mr. Tough Guy can see me fucking her from the back,” Pokey smiled. “Yo, Mr. Big, get a good look at this,” Pokey said, spreading the woman’s pussy lips open. As he unzipped his pants, he spat on his hand and wiped the spit between the woman’s nice-size ass cheeks, then he rammed his dick inside the woman, blood raw, and the woman screamed out in pain, “Stop, stop! Please, please!” As she tried with all the strength she had to get away, she couldn’t and realized she was in a no-win situation, with the two niggas who untied her now holding her down. All she could do was cry out in pain and hope this would all come to an end. She knew it wasn’t a dream, ’cause she would’ve been woke up, so she knew this was really happening to her. As the man she loved watched, suddenly the nigga behind her, who was trying to rip her guts out stopped, and she knew it could only be God who heard her. As she heard her husband say stop.

“Oh, now you wanna talk? You ain’t so tough now,” Pokey told Mr. Big as he stayed inside the woman.

“No, nigga, I just want you to know the same way you did her, I promise I’mma do you,” Mr. Big said and laughed, “Ha, ha, ha, ha!”

“Oh nigga, you think this a joke? You find something funny?” Pokey said, pounding the woman again. With all he had watching blood ooze down the woman’s asshole, as Pokey was on the verge of cumming, he stopped and pulled out. “Never leave no DNA,” he said, stepping back, looking at the mess he made. “Damn,” he was saying in his mind, “I’m tripping, but fuck it.”

“Who’s next?” As he looked at Fatboy and Flick, they just shook their heads no.

“I’m good,” Fatboy said.

“Me too,” Flick followed suit.

“Shit, hold up, don’t speak for me,” Rim said. “I got this,” roughly flipping the woman on her back, grabbing both legs, and bending them over her head, ramming inside the woman’s bare back. As she lay motionless, Rim looked over at Mr. Big and seen tears in his eyes.

“Yeah, nigga, this what happens when a nigga wanna be tough. Nigga, take your cheddar and fuck your rat, now you crying like a bitch while fucking his wife.”

“All I can tell you,” Mr. Big said, “is get all you can while you can, ’cause if I ever catch you in this life or in hell, I’mma fuck you up. That’s my word. So just know and realize y’all are dead men walking,” Mr. Big said, watching his wife go in and out of consciousness.

As she looked over at Mr. Big for the last time before blacking out, she said, “This nigga would rather die than tell these niggaz where the money at. If I knew I would’ve been told,” she said, blacking out.

As Rim busted a nut inside the woman, he got up, zipped his pants up, and started telling his friends, “Man, y’all go head, the hoe got some fire-ass pussy.”

“Na’ll, that’s enough of that fuck shit, we came here for one thing. Now one thing done led to another. Let’s get this paper and bounce,” Fatboy said, looking at the bloody woman, covered in her own blood, remembering how kind the woman was to them complete strangers. “And she treated us like kings. She didn’t deserve this.” But he would never tell them that, ’cause he knew all they would scream was GABOS.

“Look, just tie the hoe back up!” Pokey screamed.

“Na’ll, ain’t no need for that, she out,” Fatboy said, watching as the blood still poured out from her ass.

“Look, man, let’s kill this nigga and burn up,” Flick said. “It’s obvious he ain’t gonna tell us where the money at, so we wasting our time.”

“No, fuck that,” Pokey said, walking around the room. “We ain’t come here for nothing.”

“We see that,” Fatboy said, looking at the woman, as he bent down and picked up the ripped robe and placed it over the woman’s naked, battered body.

“We came for that loot, and we ain’t leaving till we get it,” Pokey said, looking at his dog sideways. “These niggas aint made for this,” Pokey was thinking, as something came to his mind. “I got something that will make this nigga talk, as he walked back toward Mr. Big and pulled his head up, so he could look him in the eyes. “I told you before in my eyes you are dead. Look like I was right, wouldn’t you say so,” Pokey said, slapping Mr. Big in the face with three light touches. “If your look was a bullet, I’ll be dead,” Pokey said. “Look, somebody go grab me a knife from the kitchen right quick, see if a lil saying will work, a nigga will save his own life if you touch his skin. So let’s see, how true the words of Satan’s are.”

“Man, you might as well kill me, ’cause I ain't telling your punk-ass shit,” Mr. Big said out his mouth. But in his heart he knew he should’ve told the niggaz where the money was. But after what they did to his wife, he said, fuck it, he was thinking. As he felt a sharp point touch his neck, “You still don’t wanna talk?”

“Man, fuck you,” was the only words he got out, as the knife sliced through his thigh, Mr. Big tried to scream out in pain. But before he could, someone covered his mouth to bring the yell to just a mumble. As the woman slowly opened her eyes again, she looked over to see her husband bleeding from the head, now the leg. She tried to say something, but her words went unheard, as she started to say wait . . . , but the pain she felt inside her heart from her husband choosing money over love and her husband just watching her be raped was too much, and she passed back out. As Mr. Big tried to free himself, he saw his wife trying to say something, which brought joy to his heart, to know she was still alive. But before she got her words out, she blacked out again.

“Nigga, you ain’t getting up outta that chair, so you can stop trying,” Pokey said, watching Mr. Big struggle to free himself. “So you ready to talk or what?” And once again, he heard Mr. Big shout, “Nigga, fuck you!” And Pokey sliced him again, this time on the other leg, then in the chest. As blood gushed out from the open wounds, Mr. Big said, “Stop, I’mma tell you, but you gotta take me with you, ’cause you’ll never find it solo.”

“Is that so?” Pokey asked, knowing it could be a trap, but he had to take his chances while the nigga wanted to talk. “Okay, where the money at?”

“Then I just tell your lil punk ass. I can give you direction, but you’ll never find it.”

“All right, nigga, but if you on the bullshit, your wife will be the first to receive a one-way ticket to hell, and you’ll catch her with the next bullet train through ya head. Look, Lo-P, Rim, y’all gonna ride with me. Turtle, Fats, and Flick will stay here and guard this bitch,” Pokey said walking over to the lady, removing the robe and feeling her titties one last time before looking at Mr. Big to let him know he was dead ass for real. “Listen, untie this nigga, and if he try anything, kill him,” Pokey told Rim and Lo-P, who were nodding in the affirmative, looking ’round the house. Pokey noticed a cell phone sitting on the charger. Walking over to retrieve it, he took his own cell phone off and threw it to Fatboy.

“Look every twenty minute, I’mma hit you up to let you know all is good. If I don’t call, you know something with wrong. That means kill the bitch and burn up, okay?”

“I got you, nigga.” Just as Pokey and Fats got through talking, Turtle came out one of the other rooms, holding a fresh round of duct tape.

“That’s what’s up, Turtle. You always on point, now let’s tape this nigga up, like a Christmas present. First let’s tape the nigga’s feet. Now that that’s done taped his hands.”

“What about his mouth?” Rim asked, always asking a million questions.

“No, stupid-ass nigga. How we gonna get the direction if he can’t talk.”

“Oh yeah, you right,” Rim said, looking silly.

“All right, we got the nigga taped up. Now let’s load this nigga in the backseat,” Pokey said, watching Rim and Lo-P carry the nigga to the car. As Pokey was about to exit the door, he stopped. “Yo, Fatboy, you got this right?”

“Yeah, nigga, I got this,” Fatboy fired back, getting tired of this nigga thinking everybody was soft but him. “All right, I’ll hit you every twenty minutes, word!”