Doom Fox Read Online Free PDF Page B

my slammer ... ain't even got the geeters for a crib in a flophouse' he murmurs disconsolately.
    Slim scoops a handful of silver coins from his trouser pocket, clinks them together in his palm as he asks, 'You know the apartment number of the fox that owns that white Continental?'
    'Yeah, two fifteen at the end of the hall' the loser spills as Slim dumps the coins into his shirt pocket.
    Slim goes to Delphine's door, shims open the spring lock with the blade of his pocket knife. He locks the door and cat-foots across the living room and stares at Delphine's supine form. His blind left eye rolls unfocused in his head. The eye was damaged when he was dumped in a trash bin when he was a week old by his junkie mother.
    He fans out his five grand bankroll in 'C' notes and fifties on the nightstand beside a half-ounce of high grade heroin, cellophane packaged. He picks up her switchblade from the nightstand and tosses it away beneath the bed. He searches the drawers of the nightstand, her purse, the bed and beneath the mattresses for her hide-out weapons. He slides his skeletal frame into bed, and jiggles fingers in her rectum and semen frothed vulva to awaken her to his presence.
    Stone harlot to the pelvic bone, she reflexively humps his fingers in her sleep for a long moment before her eyelids flutter. He removes his fingers, wipes them on her lips. He inserts a 'C' note, tightly rolled lengthwise, deeply into her vaginal tunnel. Her eyes open, stare balefully into his face, then pop wide in shocked furious alarm. She emits a venomous wildcat attack hissing sound. His spindly legs scissor-lock her thighs as he seizes her wrists before her clawing talons can shred his face.
    'Let me go! You'll have to waste me to freebie fuck me like a chippie. I'll kill you! Let me go, sonuvabitch!' she shrieks as she struggles mightily.
    His lupine lips curl contemptuously as he whispers, 'Bad outlaw bitch, Slim ain't yenning to highjack none of your stinkin' 'ho cave. I'm buying a ticket to your ears 'ho. Now gander my ticket and listen.' He dips his head toward the 'C' note peeping from between her thrashing thighs.
    She stares at it, ceases struggle. She darts a greedy glance at his bankroll fanned out on the nightstand. He flings her arms free and unscissors her thighs.
    'Motherfucker! Don't ever play this angle on me again' she pants as she retrieves the 'C' note, unrolls the bill to examine it. She impounds it inside her fist. 'How did you find me, get in here?' she asks.
    'A little bird snitched and your door was open ...' he replies.
    She says, 'Let's get this transaction straight, Slim. You're turning a pure conversation trick. Right?'
    'Yeah, cold blooded 'ho mama, that's right' he says as he turns to pluck the dope packet from the nightstand. He unfolds it. A loaded syringe gleams atop the powder. He dips a thumbnail into the contents and snorts a mini pile of dust up his nostrils.
    'Pure smack of brown for this pimping stud of clay scored from down old Mexico way' he chants with slumberous eyes rolling ecstatically toward the top of his long head.
    She taps her wristwatch. 'You're blowing your half hour, Slim' she says with a quaver as she stares hooded electric eyes at the packet of dope on his chest.
    He props himself up, gazes into her eyes as he spiels his game in a sugary whisper: 'Star, you ain't been outta my skull since the Mellow Fellow Bar. Remember that night in Chi when Jelly Drop copped you and I made you high? I told Jelly I got to buy! For that pimp's dream, the limit is the sky. He said, "Nigger, I ain't selling. That gold mine young freak is worth no telling." I vowed that night I'd kick the Windy's baddest asses, swim through a ocean of mildewed shit gasses to make you mine. Miss Fine! I gotta stable of ten. Four African thieving queens, pocket magicians. Three blond silks, boosting and grifting technicians. Three sissies, pretty and prissy, stone mudkickers from Dixie Missi.
    'Now Sugar Baby, 'cause I love ya, your