The Grind Don't Stop by L. E. Newell Read Free Book Online

under the street lamp. Two of ‘B’’s favorite boosting hoes, Pinky and Laurie, were sitting on the hood acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They popped gum and snake-rolled their heads in the snappy, animated way that street hustlers did. Both Rainbow and Sparkle knew they were watch dogging the Caddie to make sure that ‘B’ wouldn’t come out with his carriage setting on bricks. It was definitely that kind of neighborhood.
    They had proven in the past that they would come in handy with some guns if it came down to that.
    As they pulled into the club, they saw their boy’s dark blue caddy with the gold ragtop glistening under the street lamp. Two of B’s favorite boosting hoes, Cheryl and Laurie, were sitting on the hood acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. But they knew they were watch dogging the caddie to make sure that he wouldn’t come out with his carriage sitting on bricks. It was definitely that type of neighborhood.
    They had planned on easing into the club unnoticed, but Cheryl, with her shit-starting ass, had to say something. “What’s up, hood rats? I see that B’s goty’all stank asses just where y’all belong; playing watchdog.”
    â€œFuck you, slut, ooops I mean sluts,” Laurie, a petite sassy-mouthed, black-as-midnight vixen, replied in a voice full of venom.
    â€œY’all still licking those vanilla and chocolate lollypops for dime rocks?” Cheryl shot back with just as much nastiness.
    â€œMmmmm-hmmm, and saving the dusty Ziplocs so y’all can get a decent back,” Pinky, a juicy-bodied redbone, clad in some shiny silver daisy dukes cuffing her donkey ass that matched the halter top and Hercules strap sandals yelped. She jumped off the hood and coiled up like a viper ready to strike. “Dat’s right, bitch, I mean bitches. I said it.”
    Seeing her sister outnumbered, her twin, Sherry, quickly joined in the fray. “Aw aw, y’all, I smell a catfight. I just know yall funky hoes ain’t ready to throw down, for real.”
    â€œOh hell yeah we is, hisssssss.” Laurie snarled as she lifted her long designer nails into a pair of deadly claws. They started circling each other, snarling and feinting back and forth.
    â€œMan, why you looking all hype for? Dem silly hoes ain’t gonna do nothing but act stupid,” Rainbow shouted over his shoulder as he headed into the club.
    Sparkle started to follow him when the girls started screaming and shrieking. He expected to see a real throwdown, but those crazy hoes were laughing and dancing.
    â€œI’ll be damned,” he muttered, shook his head and turned away, mad because he was hoping to see female talons windmilling in large circles. He laughed at the clowning foursome and pushed through the door. As he swung through the Old West-styled swinging doors he was immediately mesmerized by the black and red blinking lights that made the undulations of the scantily clad dancers seem mystically herky jerky. He paused for a brief momentadmiring their alluring movements. Won’t nothing like a well-endowed honey shaking what her mother gave her. After a moment of lusting at their glistening bodies, he started looking around the club for his boys. He spotted them at the bar in a heated conversation with Bertha.
    Now that was one helluva tough honey, that Bertha. Back in the day, when Rainbow was first getting his feet wet in the pimping game, she’d been one of the first real stud streetwalkers that he’d scooped. If the truth were told, which Rainbow would never admit, she was the one who had shown him how to be a real mack man. A big-boned, exotic redbone, Bertha had a squeaky little girl voice that shocked everyone she met.
    â€œI done told y’all poor hustling muthafuckas that I ain’t gonna be waiting no hour for y’all to be answering no godayum call,” Bertha spat and rolled her