If It Ain't About The Money by Ivory Ja' Nai

Author:Ivory, Ja' Nai [Ivory, Ja' Nai]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Leo Sullivan Presents | Sullivan Productions
Published: 2015-09-10T05:00:00+00:00

~ Chapter 21 ~

The room was quiet aside from the distant sounds of doors opening and closing. Irritation had begun to instill its arrogance. Hiding wasn’t fun, nor was it satisfying in the least. The comfort of being free was as vital to Terrance as breathing was. He needed it. Paranoia was a thing of destruction to his thoughts. Every noise, every conversation, every eye contact made changed his thoughts. He gritted his teeth in disgust. His eyes stared blankly in the darkened room. The yellow tint from the street lights beamed aggressively, making its own path through the dingy Motel 6 curtains. He was restless at this moment. Suddenly, a sharp knock on the door shocked his breathing, making his heart beat erratically.

He ran to the bathroom and retrieved his gun from the counter. A few deep breaths didn’t change anything. He sneaked a peek through a slit in the curtains. And exhale of relief traveled through his nose. He put the gun in his back pocket and unlatched the locks. The door swung open and the somber face of fright peeked out followed by a wide grin. Yalonda, Jazz, and Shantrece hurriedly followed one another inside. Yalonda rushed into Terrance’s arms.

“We did it,” she whispered.

For the first time since he’d been on the run, Terrance smiled. Satisfaction gave him a surge of completion.

“We did it,” she repeated.

“My girl!,” he bragged. “My girl!”

Shantrece plopped own on the bed in jealousy. Neither she nor Jazz replied. Celebrating wasn’t anyone’s desire at the moment, but they all were reeling in a pond full of pride.

Terrance broke the silence. “Let’s count what y’all brought in from all the hits,” he said, prying himself away from Yalonda’s embrace.

The sound of money excited the exotic dancers. They all had experience in counting money. It was the prize of a lifetime for them. Terrance drug the duffle bag from under the bed. Yalonda tossed the bag she’d come in with on top of the bed. Terrance looked at the pretty faces of the three women and chuckled to himself at the reality of what he’d created off of a fluke. He up-ended the duffle bag onto the middle of the bed and the emptied the contents of Yalonda’s bag. Money rained down effortlessly. Any ill feelings in the room quickly detoured from everyone’s minds. Terrance could see it. The four of them stood around the pile of cash as if it was a bonfire. The moment was being savored.

“Damn! Bitch, this is my muthafuckin’ calling!” Shantrece blurted out. “Look at all this money.”

“I know,” Jazz sang.

“Let’s count this shit,” Terrance said. “Put it in stacks of a thousand.”

The four of them counted and counted. Their grand total came up to $32,120.

“Damn!” Terrance beamed. “$10,766 a piece from five robberies! Impressive,” he added.

The envision had been motivational for Yalonda, Jazz, and Shantrece, but the actual sight of $32,000 sitting within their reach for only a total of 45 minutes spent between all five robberies was equivalent to the anxiety of having a winning lottery ticket.

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