Duffle Bag Bitches Read online

  DUFFLE BAG BITCHES

  ALICIA HOWARD

  DUFFLE BAG BITCHES

  Copyright © 2013 by SBR PUBLICATIONS

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  Acknowledgments

  AUTHORS NOTE

  HELLO ALL I AM ALICIA C. HOWARD, I WANT TO TAKE THE TIME TO THANK THOSE WHO SUPPORT ME AND SHOW LOVE. I HAVE TO SAY IF YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN ME LAST YEAR YOU WOULD HAVE SAID SHE WILL NEVER BE A WRITER. THAT’S THE THING I LOVE ABOUT GOD HE SEES THING THAT WE AS PEOPLE TURN THE BLIND EYE TO CAUSE WE ASSUME THAT ALL HOPE IS LOST.

  I HAVE HAD PEOPLE GIVE UP ON ME, USE ME (TRY TO ANYWAY), AND REFUSE TO LOVE ME KNOW MATTER HOW MUCH OF MYSELF I GAVE IT MEANT NOTHING TO THEM. I CONTINUED TO BE ME AND GAVE FROM MY HEART AND GOD SAW FIT TO TURN THINGS AROUND FOR ME. WHEN THE WORLD COUNTED ME OUT HE HELD MY HAND, WHEN THE STREETS TRIED TO SWALLOW ME WHOLE MERCY SAID NO.

  AND HERE I AM TODAY STRIVING TO BE THE BEST ME I COULD EVER BE. NO ONE IS PERFECT BUT I WANT TO TRY TO GET AS CLOSE AS I CAN. WHEN YOU LOOK AT ME DON’T LOOK AT ME AS AUTHOR, FAMOUS, OR CELEBERITY CAUSE I AM NONE OF THE ABOVE.

  I AM A WOMAN THAT WANTS TO BE LOVED, I HAD A DREAM OF BEING MORE THAN WHAT THE EYES COULD SEE. I STRUGGLE TO MAKE IT HERE TODAY FIGHTING FOR AIR, LOVE, AND LIFE. I HEARD ALL THESE THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FREE THEY JUST DON’T COME EASILY. WHAT I AM TRYING TO SAY IS FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS NO MATTER HOW FAR AWAY THEY MAY SEEM. BREATHE FREELY, LOVE AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, MOST OF ALL LIVE LIFE TO THE FULLEST. THANK EVERY ONE OF YOU THAT LOVE AND SUPPORT ME.

  BANKROLL SQUAD

  LEGGO I HAVE TO DO THIS FOR MY TEAM CAUSE WE ARE SO UNITED IT SCARES OTHERS. THEN ONENESS BLOWS THERE MINDS. I HAVE TO SET THIS THING UP LIKE THIS, DAVID WEAVER I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN WHEN THIS NAME IS SPOKEN. HE GRABBED ON TO A CRAZY WOMAN LIKE ME WHEN THERE WAS NO HELPING ME, YET HE SAW FIT TO HELP ME ANYWAY. WHEN I MET THIS MAN HE DIDN’T EVEN OWN A CELLPHONE. I ASKED HIM,” WELL WHAT I DO WHEN I NEED TO CALL YOU?” AS A FRIEND AND A MENTOR HE GOT A PHONE JUST FOR ME, LOL AT LEAST THAT’S THE WAY I SEE IT. THIS MAN WILL BE BLESSED FOR MORE THAN HE EVER IMAGINED HE HAS BEEN TOO. BY GOD’S GRACE FAR MORE THAN HE WILL EVER KNOW. WE SHARE ONE HEART AND ONE LOVE. THANK YOU BABE.

  I HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FAMILY IN THE WRITING GAME RIGHT NOW, NO BACK BITING, NO FAKENESS, NO SNEAK DISSING THAT’S

  THE SHIT THE SQUAD DON’T LIKE.

  COLE HART A NEW FRIEND AND HERO HE SAW A WOMAN THAT I NEVER WANTED TO BE, HELL I AM A G LOL I AM GLAD HE SAW HER. NOW SHE WANTS TO BREAK FREE AND SHOW THE WORLD WHAT SHE REALLY IS. A FRIEND FOR LIFE YOU HAVE IN ME…..STEEL SHARPEN STEEL!

  CHANEL, MYSS SHAN, DRUSILLA…..I LOVE MY NEW SISTER THEY ABOUT THIS LIFE AND GIVING THAT WORK. WE ALL ARE WILLING TO LOOSE SLEEP TO GRIND…..AND THAT’S FINE CAUSE WE GONE SHINE HARD AS WE GRIND…..WERK HARD PLAY HARD WERK HARD!

  TREMAYNE AND TORICA MY TWO NEW BRUH’S GLAD TO BE AROUND REAL MEN FOR A CHANGE……TRE YOU LOW KEY BUT I WILL PULL YOU IN EVENTUALLY EVEYBODY LOVES ME LOL……TORICA I GOT YOU TO TALKING AND YOU JUST RAN WILD WHAT CAN I SAY THE LADIES LOVE DIMPLES EVEN IF HE ONLY GOT JUST ONE. BOTH ME HAVE MY RESPECT CAN’T WAIT TO KICK IT WITH MY CREW#TBRS.

  SPECIAL TO ME

  DWANA BOOCHIE AKA DADDIESBEST BAWSS JOKHER, TIFFANY CHASE-DOLLARS LEMONS AKA (IF THE SQUAD SAY GET’EM SHE GONE GET’EM!), NOSHA PETERSON, EURKA OLIVER, LOU ADAMS, AND BAWSS MARY MAKESITHAPPEN GORDON, AND MISSBOSSLADII DANIELS. ALL YOU LADIES ARE VERY IMPORTANT TO ME. THANK YOU FOR TOUCHING MY LIFE AND SHARING YOURS WITH ME. I WISH ALL OF YOU THE BEST THE WORLD HAVE TO OFFER BECAUSE YOU EARNED IT….BLACKGIRLSROCK!

  Table of Contents

  DUFFLE BAG BITCHES. 1

  DUFFLE BAG BITCHES

  Dallas sat there on a bench in the Wellston Loop thinking about Jakia and how he let the love of his life slip through his fucking hands. She was gone now and there was nothing he could do about it. Sometimes in this life you’re bound to lose the one you hold near and dear to your heart. That part didn’t bother him, but the fact that he had never told her how he really felt is what broke his spirit.

  He didn’t know shit about square love. All he knew was hustling and pimping, it was in his blood. His mother Sadie was a whore and his father had been her pimp. Hustling was something he picked up along the way because niggas liked to floss too hard and he wanted to show them how to really shine.

  Dallas was a thoroughbred ass nigga. He didn’t take no shit from anyone, that just wasn’t in his blood. He was a nigga’ that felt that it was either kill or be killed. He wasn’t ever gonna bitch up no matter how real or ill shit got around him. He vowed to never see the inside of a jail, and when his time came he would hold court in the streets. He was originally from Portland, Oregon, but relocated to St. Louis, Missouri on the run from the feds for dope charges.

  Dallas was a sexy chocolate nigga. He was five eleven, one hundred sixty five pounds; and rocked a deep wave fade with a goatee. He had a set of teeth so pearly white, that he could do a commercial for Crest. The swag he had was insane! He had bitches selling pussy out of love and not out of fear. But lately his mind had been playing tricks on him…

  He had been thinking about Jakia a lot, she would be in his dreams asking him why he didn’t save her. Every time he tried to explain it to her she would fade away and he would wake up looking for her.

  The truth of the matter was she was dead and a small piece of him had died with her.

  He often blamed himself for her death because she put him on to the lick. He knew she should have never been setting niggas up to be robbed in the first place. Dallas thought women were soft sensual creatures that a man was supposed to love and protect. That’s exactly what he provided for the women that worked for him. He never hit them or forced them to work the strip. It was something that they were already doing when they met him.

  He just offered them safety and love. That’s why Jakia didn’t mind working for him before she got down with his crew. The last lick they did together came back to bite them in the ass in the end. Jakia had gotten her head blown off by a 12-gauge shot gun. There was no coming back from that. It was funny how fast shit could change right before your eyes.

  That all happened two years ago and today Dallas was the man. His squad the Duffle Bag Bitches ran shit. Dallas had always been able to sweet talk bitches into doing anything he said. That’s how he’d made a living over the years. He stepped his game up from just pimping hoes to busting niggas down to size. Shit was running smoothly but sometimes you just can’t send a man to do a woman’s job. Niggas loved women so he felt by adding some to his crew, he could easily bring in more money.

  He had set out to find a different breed of bitch. Not the kind that laid down and spread them wide to eat, but the kind that blew your fucking head off and took what the fuck she needed to survive. He had trained them extremely well so they knew he was the master.

  If he hadn’t done that, he felt that one of them bitches might have bit him and taken over his whole operation.

  Shannon, Jasmine, Nisha, and Jay were his thoroughbreds. He never fucked any of them, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. The Duffle Bag Bitches name rang in the streets so hard muthafuckas knew three things about them. They worked for Dallas Palmer, they were the baddest bitches you would ever meet, and they didn’t give a fuck about nothing but Dallas and money. They had hit every hustler that shined too hard from St. Louis to L.A. If you had it, then D. Palmer wanted it. There was nothing stopping those hoes from getting it and bringing it back to Daddy.

  Even though they never gave him any pussy they loved him for who he was and what he had been to them.

  Two Years Earlier……

/>   Nisha was 5’7,” a hundred and fifteen pounds, and the color of caramel on an ice cream sundae. She wore jet black Remy weave that hung to the middle of her back. She met Dallas a few years back when she was dating this nigga named West. She had been shacking up with him for a year and a half, and made the nigga think she was head over heels in love with him, but she wasn’t.

  Nisha had watched West do his thing for a while before she stepped to him. She needed to see what type of bitches he liked. Once she realized she fit the shoes, she got on his ass. Nisha fucked and sucked him the first night she met him. She blew the niggas mind. After just one hit of the pussy he was hooked. He was a good dude and he did her right, but she wasn’t looking for love. Nisha and her crew were only looking for a come-up.

  Dallas’ crew had kidnapped her ass to get West to pay the ransom, but Nisha hadn’t known if he would. Since Dallas and his crew didn’t harm her in any way, she let Dallas in on why she was fucking with West for real, and how he was fucking with her money.

  He had to laugh at that little frail ass bitch. She had the heart of a lion times ten. West had paid the ransom of one hundred and fifty G’s for her, but it didn't move or change her plans; it just bought him six more months to live.

  Dallas told Nisha that if her crew made it back to him alive after taking West out, then he would put them on to some major players in several different states.

  It was the Fourth of July when Nisha set shit off with West. They were fucking strong, but that was the only thing she loved about him. “Oooh daddy hit that shit!” Nisha moaned. When she talked like that it drove West wild.

  “Bitch who pussy is this?” West asked. Nisha didn’t say shit cause she had a complex with that bitch word. It’s what had caused her to kill her stepfather, and West used it a lil too much for her liking.

  “Bitch who pussy is this?” he barked again.

  Nisha played her part, “Yours daddy! Ooohhh Aaahhh daddy it’s yours!” She yelled. West was so into it that he never heard the door open. He tilted his head back as he busted a load off in her. He was always trying to get her pregnant, but the bitch bought the morning after pills by the case and took one after every fuck session.

  As West came he also went home to meet his maker. The bullet from a silenced three fifty seven shattered his brain. Jasmine had made her way in the house through the back door Nisha had left open for her. She crept into the room and stood there watching them fuck for two reasons. One she was a certified freak, the other was because she loved catching niggas with their pants down.

  Jasmine was five-foot-four and one hundred and thirty-five pounds with golden brown skin. She wore her hair in strawberry red curls that made her look like an exotic Pocahontas. She had slumped West so fast he thought it was the nut he busted putting him to sleep.

  Nisha kicked West off the back of the bed causing his neck to break when he landed. First a bullet to the back of the head, then a broken neck. Ain’t no coming back from that. “Damn bitch you were moving in slow motion. I know your freaky ass was watching the show,” Nisha yelled.

  Jasmine died laughing, “Bitch your skinny ass sho know how to throw that pussy.” She held her stomach cracking up like there wasn’t a dead man a foot away from her.

  “Bitch let’s get this money so we can get out of here and meet up with Dallas.” Nisha had a crush on him, but it didn’t matter because she was never gonna fuck him. She needed to know that he respected her G code.

  They gathered up the $400,000 that he had been saving to buy Nisha that million dollar house she always said she wanted. He had been in love with her for real, but sadly she was too blind and hurt from life to see it.

  Nisha and Jasmine hopped in the white Chevy idling outside with Shannon and Big Jay casing the scene making sure no one came to the house before they had finished their business. The four girls peeled off. Shannon was driving like a damn fool as always. “Slow this muthafucka down hoe!” Big Jay yelled at her.

  “Bitch I got this, with yo’ dirty ass.” Shannon was forever calling a muthafucka dirty and shit. She thought she was the shit. She was 5’2,” weighed 125 pounds, had honey colored skin and wore her hair in a honey blonde bob. She had her lips pierced at the bottom on both sides, she was sexy and she knew it. But sometimes she let that shit go to her head.

  “I done told yo’ hoe ass about that dirty shit.” Big Jay gave her a fucked up look. That bitch didn’t play no games and would kill yo’ mama if she got in her way.

  Big Jay was 5’9” and 200 pounds. She was the color of a Milky Way bar, thick in all the right places, and as rough as she was she didn't have a mark on that body. Her hair hung to her shoulders- no fake shit, she was natural from the root to the tip. She was beautiful and she never wore make-up, she just kept that lip-gloss popping. The girl was flawless, and truly a bad bitch.

  “Man shut the fuck up.” Jasmine yelled. Shannon was her sister even though they didn’t often act like it. Nisha was their brother’s baby mama. They weren’t together anymore but she would always be family for life. Big Jay was Jasmines’ best friend, but the other two loved her just as much. Jasmine hated sharing Jay. She acted like she was hers and only hers- that hoe was sick in the head at times. They cussed each other out all the way to Dallas’s spot.

  ***

  The girls were cussing and fussing with each other so much that they hadn’t realized the weather in Saint Louis had gone from a hot summer July day to a cold, dark, and gloomy evening. They pulled into the warehouse Dallas owned in Fenton. The place was huge with all the windows spray painted black so that no one could see in or out. The warehouse sat deep back in the woods off interstate 44. Shannon killed the engine to let the car slowly roll into the parking space. This was the way her sneaky ass always moved. You would never hear her coming but she made damn sure you felt her.

  Once the car had come to a complete stop the arguing died instantly. All four of the women put on their game faces because that was not the time to fight with each other or be cute. Even though they knew that sexy was always a requirement when dealing with men.

  When they all stepped out of the white Chevy Camaro, it was like looking at a live movie clip of the Fast Five mixed with Charlie’s Angles, those bitches were bad. Shannon had on a black wife beater over fishnet leggings with Christian Louboutin Lillian Triple Buckle Black Pumps and black D&G sunglasses.

  Jasmine had on a black half shirt that read “Bitches Hate Me” with black skinny jeans and black Christian Louboutin Altadama Peep Toe Platforms.

  Big Jay had on an all-black cat suit that hugged her thick body as if she was wearing liquid latex; she had two skull bone hair clips holding her beautiful hair out of her face, and black Christian Louboutin Morphing Wedges.

  Then there was Nisha who wore long jet black Remy hair that blew in the wind as she stood there in a black mini dress with an all black Dolce & Gabbana duffle. It was the only kind of bag they used to carry money; and of course she also had on a pair of Christian Louboutins. It was a tradition that they had with each other where they always wore the same color but in a different style and always the same brand of shoe.

  The thunder rolled in the sky as they closed the doors to the car and made their way to the building. Nisha lead the way because she was carrying the money and was the one that made the promise to Dallas. Jasmine wasn’t wild about teaming up with this nigga; she was greedy and already hated splitting the money four ways. Another hand was just too much for her to deal with.

  This time she was gonna trust her friend’s judgment. Nisha banged on the door, and a muffled baritone voice said, “I’m coming.”

  Nisha looked back at her crew as the lock on the other side of the door was heard. Shannon asked, “Y’all ready to die?” Everyone looked at her and nodded their heads as they stepped inside the open door.

  They hated when Shannon did this, she always wanted them to know that shit could get real at any time and she was always ready to die and live at the same damn time.
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br />   The room was pretty clean and comfortable to be a warehouse. It had a couch, love seat, coffee table, two plush chairs, and across the way was a sixty inch flat screen. Dallas had a small office set up with an area rug, desk, computer, high back leather chair, filing cabinets and bookshelves. Ten men including Dallas were in the room when Nisha and the girls walked up to the desk where D sat. She thought all her girls were by her side until she heard, “This some bullshit! Nigga why the fuck didn’t you cover me?” Shannon was fussing at a sexy caramel colored nigga. That nigga looked like sand on the beach with ocean blue eyes and a sandy red faded Mohawk.

  From where he was sitting he looked like he was about five eleven and two hundred ten pounds. He was fine, but that didn’t mean shit to that crazy ass girl right then.

  “Hold the fuck up! Girl I didn’t even ask you to play you just joined in.” He yelled.

  “So fucking what? Your bitch ass looked as if you needed some help.” Shannon was on her feet now.

  “Bitch please”, he huffed thinking about how bad this bitch was.

  Shannon smiled at him, “Your dick hard ain’t it? You want to fuck me don’t you?”

  “Girl you not all that! So why you asking if my dick hard, girl bye.” He tried to walk away, but Shannon side stepped him and jumped right in his face grabbing his dick. It was hard as a jaw breaker; she kissed him “Told you.”

  Dallas was dying laughing at how this chick had just handled one of his toughest men. The nigga was steaming because he never had a woman make him feel weak and warm inside all at the same time.

  “Aye D that shit ain’t funny man,” he huffed.

  “Zane my bad nigga I am not laughing at you, trust me, I am laughing with you.” He was still tickled when Nisha chimed in, “I’m back for a reason.”

  D stopped laughing “What? You couldn’t pull the nigga cord could you?” He asked.