A Beautiful Satan 3: Darkness and Death (DC Bookdiva Publications) by Rj Champ

Author:Rj Champ [Champ, Rj]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Romance, Thrillers & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense, United States, Suspense, African American, Literature & Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense
Amazon: B00TESYVPO
Publisher: DC Bookdiva Publications
Published: 2015-02-09T05:00:00+00:00

It was about 7:30 in the morning when a Capitol Cab rolled up in front of the Lamont Street safe house. Seconds later, the gorgeous Ayanna emerged from inside the house. A great big Kool-Aid smile stretched across her face as she trotted down the front walkway and out the gate and then hopped in the rear of the awaiting cab.

“Don’t forget to call me later on!” Ayanna shouted before closing the cab door.

Bad Ass didn’t respond. He stood at the door in his black Ralph Lauren robe and black silk boxers and watched the cab pull off. The moment the cab was out of sight, he turned his attention toward the pair of black Suburban SUVs parked at the curb in front the house. Bad Ass gave a slight head nod, acknowledging his soldiers – Fats, Trouble, Killa and Monster. The men were lounging incognito behind the SUV’s blacked-out windows. A horn sounded in response, which was the signal that everything was all good. Satisfied, Bad Ass turned and moseyed back inside the house.

Bad Ass walked down the hall and into the kitchen. “Man that pretty bitch suck a mean dick!” Bad Ass boasted, entering the kitchen.

Loso was standing in front of the refrigerator chugging a carton of orange juice nonstop like he hadn’t had a drink in days. “Ahhhhh!” he finished. He let out a loud burp before he slammed the door shut, took two steps, spun on his heels, and shot a three-point jumper. “Swoosh!” he exclaimed when the empty container ricocheted off the corner wall and bounced into the trash can.

“Hey, Lo, why don’t you make yourself useful,” Bad Ass said, pulling a box of Frosted Flakes from the wooden cabinet. “Grab the milk out of the icebox for me.”

Bad Ass sat down at the kitchen table and immediately began to devour a large bowl of Frosted Flakes. A minute later, he was interrupted by the blaring ringtone on his iPhone – Drake’s “From the Bottom to the Top” was his new anthem.

Multi-tasking, Bad Ass continued to shovel spoonfuls of cereal in his mouth. “Yeah, talk to me,” he answered. “What? Caesar want a sit-down…with me? That bamma don’t know me!”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hail of automatic gunfire shattered the early morning calm. It sounded like chainsaws ripping the air.

The initial burst of fire brought Bad Ass and Loso to their feet. Their instincts were tingling and they were both super amped-up from a fresh adrenaline rush as they bolted for the front door and snatched up a chopper – Bad Ass armed with a sawed-off and Loso the Street Sweeper. Without breaking stride, they stormed outside and blasted on anything moving across their path.

A navy blue Lincoln LS thundered through the block, guns blazing the air from every window, including the sunroof, where the shooter had an AK spitting fire like a maniac.

The sleek automobile raced through the block at top speed, and the fat-faced dago behind the wheel didn’t touch the brake pedal until the sedan was less than ten feet from entering the intersection at Lamont and Sherman Avenue.

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