Soulless: Dead Bodies Don't Bleed by K. Lamar

Author:K. Lamar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2021-07-29T17:48:16+00:00

A short time later, Soulless pulled his Lexus into a gas station and came to a stop at a pump. He put the car in park and rolled himself a blunt. As people came and went, he fired up the blunt and took a few deep pulls before placing it in the ashtray. He then climbed out of the car and made his way into the store where he bought himself a two-gallon gas container, a box of blunts, an Everfresh, and pre-paid for two gallons of gas.

When Soulless got back out to the pump and was filling the gas container, a matte black Range Rover on 28-inch rims pulled up behind his Lexus.

Mister ended his call before climbing out of his truck and heading into the store. It had been a full day of trapping for him and all he wanted to do was catch up with the chick he had met in Foot Locker the day before. She was a thick snow bunny, who seemed to be infatuated with dope boys and foreign whips. Being Puerto Rican and white, with long braids and a gang of tattoos, he fit the dope boy bill. He knew it would be nothing for him to fuck. He had travelled all the way from Racine to get the pussy.

When Mister returned to his ride and climbed back inside, he noticed the Pepsi-blue LS 450 sitting on what appeared to be a set of expensive chrome rims. He looked to the driver and saw that he was filling a gas container. Curious about the ride, he could not help but climb back out and approach the stranger. “Say, man, what kind of rims are these?”

Soulless looked at the man as if he was out of his mind. He had never seen this nigga before and it was clear that the nigga had no idea who he was approaching.

Off the top, Mister took the man’s silence as a form of hostility. The last thing he wanted was to cause a situation to jump off out of nothing. “Look, man,” he said, surrendering his hands to the air. “I ain’t on no bullshit. I was just lookin’ at the car. I’m in the market for somethin’ to play with this summer and I like this mafucka.”

When he saw that the man was not at all accepting of his presence, Mister decided to appeal to his pockets. “Check it out, homie. You look like the type of nigga who get money out here. I ain’t from here, but I know a real one when I see one.” Mister went into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out nearly an ounce of kush before extending it. “This on me, bruh. Just fuck with me. I got whatever you need—and them prices can’t be beat. We can talk about the whip some other time. Just take my number and get up with me whenever. I’m just a hop, skip, and a jump away from the Mil. You

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