Sex Lies Betrayal 4 by Kharisma Kashmere

Author:Kharisma Kashmere [Kashmere, Kharisma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Urban, Genre Fiction
Amazon: B00MY67D94
Publisher: Sullivan Productions LLC/ Leo Sullivan Presents
Published: 2014-08-21T04:00:00+00:00

Dinero tugged at his chain sliding Taz’s corpse granting himself more wiggle room. He stood in the bed, placing his foot on the bar wrapped in chain links. Dinero stomped repeatedly, each thrust flailing Taz’s stiff arm. He tried not to look and focus on the bar as twenty kicks turned into forty and he could see the bar bend. Dinero pushed off with the wall and the mattress separated from the post and it slid down the wall to the floor. Taz’s remains drifted with the moving mattress and Dinero yanked his cuff making his partner hit the floor. His dilated pupils stalked Dinero with each kick and stirred a ferocious ambition in him that snapped the aluminum pole in a ninety degree angle. He crouched over twirling the bar out of its mounts, the stench of blood embedded in the cement. Once Dinero was free from his first obstacle he ripped off his shirt tying it around his nose and mouth. He reached down closing Taz’s eyelids gently before reciting a prayer.

It’s fucked up I gotta do this to ya Fam.

Dinero grabbed his partner by the ankles carting him into the front of the garden apartment. The first thing he spotted was Taz’s pocket rocket lain on the floor with the clip and shells surrounding it. Dinero reassembled the .25 and aimed the mini weapon at the bearer that conjoined him to his unlucky constituent. He sent two bullets through the bond and the linkage separated from his cuff completely emancipating Dinero from his short connection to Taz. He put his new pistol in his pocket and began scouring the filthy room. Once that was a bust, Dinero returned to Reginald’s cage for his phone and determined it couldn’t be salvaged. He ran through Taz’s pocket discovering he actually didn’t have a phone, at least not on him. Dinero moved the TV stand, the crates, and the sofa still drawing up blank. Then cautiously he rubbed his fingers under the creases of the trash worthy sofa.

Where the fuck is it…I know that nigga got it somewhere up in here.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.