I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

all. The only black thing they have out there is the streets. The owner of this place is white. His employees are white. And the customers are white.”
    I sat on our leather sectional with my arms folded and my lip poked out. I trusted that my nigga knew what he was talking about. But I still didn’t want Kim K. in our business or next to my man. I didn’t give a fuck how long we’d been friends.
    “White muthafuckas love black bitches though,” I said snaking my neck.
    “Yeah he’d love to fuck yo ass. You’re a bad ass bitch but he ain’t trying to have you workin at his place. Now I’m through talking. Kim K. is goin to help us get this cash and you’re either with us or you’re in the muthafuckin way.”
    So to make my nigga happy I sat behind the steering wheel of a Chevy Impala in the sports bar packing lot. Kim K. was working as a server, and keeping an eye on the owner. After fucking and sucking the middle age white man real good, he told her that the bar did around $40,000 (forty thousand dollars) in sales a week. She was able to learn the other shit we needed just by watching over a month’s time.
    Dave, the owner, cleaned out his safe every Saturday night, about an hour before closing. He always carried the cash in a black leather pouch to his car, he would run it to his crib, and then come back to have a drink with his employees who are scheduled to close up that night. Kim K. bragged to Ivan that once she put her lips around his pinky sized dick, it wasn’t hard to convince him to always let her close. When I saw that smile on Ivan’s face I could’ve put a bullet in that bitch’s head. You don’t tell my nigga no shit like that.
    I jumped a little when my iPhone vibrated in my lap. It was a text message from Kim K.: Here’s…Dave. I rolled my eyes as I read it out loud to Ivan who was ducked down on the floor in the back seat. I hope you’re having fun, bitch, because you won’t be needed much longer.
    “Holla at me Phat Kat,” Ivan said.
    “I think I see his ass.”
    “Is it him or not bitch?”
    Humph. Don’t rush me nigga. Maybe you need that white bitch out here to strain her eyes for you.
    Of course I didn’t have the nerve to say what I was thinking to Ivan. But as irritated as I already was I was definitely tempted. It was one-thirty in the god damn morning. It was dark even with the light poles on both sides of the parking lot. I strained my eyes and watched the figure that walked out the back of the sports bar. It wasn’t until he was about ten feet away from his Maserati that I saw the black leather pouch in his hand.
    “Ivan, that’s him. He’s almost to his whip.”
    “Anybody else in the lot? Any cars in the street?”
    I quickly scanned both. “I don’t see nobody. Just a few cars parked.”
    The last word wasn’t even out of my mouth good when Ivan crashed through the rear car door. We were supposed to follow the vic home like we usually do. But it didn’t surprise me that Ivan switched the game up without telling me. Ivan was the type of nigga that made up his own rules as he went along.
    About time Ivan made it to the Maserati, the owner was inside with the doors locked. Ivan smashed the driver’s side window with his chrome .45 and then smashed the owner over the head. I looked around nervously as Dave the owner slumped to the side, knocked out cold from the blow to the head. The parking lot was still half full with all kinds of fly whips. Most of them were foreign with a few Rangers mixed in. I was just waiting for one of those rich muthafuckas to come staggering out of the sports bar half drunk.
    But Ivan was able to snatch the pouch out of the Maserati and climb into the back of the rented Impala without us having to kill any witnesses.
    “Drive Phat Kat. Take us home baby,” he said while ducking behind the passenger seat. His reason for hiding in the back seat was that the Whitefish Bay police might let one nigga through but they damn sure weren’t