Shots Fired by Michel Moore

Author:Michel Moore [Moore, Michel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Urban, Genre Fiction, new93aug
Amazon: B00HKZJ7IE
Publisher: Say U Promise Publications
Published: 2013-12-27T05:00:00+00:00

“Money talks and bullshit runs a marathon. So see ya and I wouldn’t wanna be ya!”

NEW JACK CITY

Chapter Ten

Allowing three or four elderly people to go inside the casino, then at least ten or eleven more, Tusconi could never find the right moment to snatch a purse or hit a man over the head with the huge rock he was holding in his hand while perched down behind a candy apple red Ford F- 150. Eavesdropping on all the white pasty face people talk shit about the Negroes that lived in Detroit and the many police sirens that were roaring by, Tusconi couldn’t take anymore.

Dropping the black piece of stone to the ground he reached in his pocket taking out the small knot of money he had left from partying counting it up. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, twenty, forty, sixty, seventy, eighty, eighty one, two, three, four, five, six. “Three hundred eighty six dollars ain’t jack shit!” he reasoned as another set of head lights entered the structure. I know I should’ve just bought a few shots of Remy! Damn, what was I thinking tricking with them hoes?

Deciding it’d be in his best interest to just catch a cab to Greedy’s crib so he could come up with a game plan, Tusconi emerged out the parking garage. Checking the block for signs of anyone he knew, he jumped in one of the many waiting yellow taxis.

“Yeah Dude, Devonshire and Mack!” he slammed the door as the driver disapprovingly looked back. “Then I’ll tell you where from there.”

“Look umm… sir, sorry I’m only taking airport runs tonight!”

“So damn what?”

“Well I can’t go that far east!” the India descent driver explained. “I try to stay on this side of town for airport runs only!”

“Look Ali Baba!” Tusconi wasn’t in the mood to argue with the purple turban head wrapped driver. “Just take me where the fuck I wanna go! Why y’all gotsta be so difficult? My money spends just like everybody else’s! If I was white!”

“I’m not saying that. I just do…”

“Look,” Tusconi stopped his protesting holding up money to the bullet proof partition. “Are we gonna ride or what?”

Seeing his disrespectful rear seat passenger had cash in hand and taking in consideration the night was slow, the driver opted to follow instructions carefully pulling away from the casino and into traffic. “Okay you win. We go. But I need money first!”

“Damn fool, just keep driving!” Tusconi angrily advised. “You’ll get ya’ loot!”

“Okay, okay.”

“I thought so!” Tusconi lowered his head going through all of Moe Mack’s texts. “Money talks and bullshit walks!”

*****

“They done let a gang of motherfuckers out that joint.” Bama Bob reached up banging his hand on the green street sign. “And ain’t nan of those dudes Tusconi’s hoe ass. If that faggot would’ve came anywhere near Moe’s ride, we would’ve peeped him out.”

“Yeah you right,” one of the angry crew signified. “Unless he somewhere in there hiding out.”

“Come on dude, use ya’ brain.” Bama Bob reasoned. “It ain’t no way the cops gonna be letting that retarded son of a bitch post up nowhere in there.

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