Brooklyn Bombshells: Part 1

In the meantime, what he could do for his friend was execute his revenge. It was taking longer to kill God than he had expected. When Pyro would drive to the Glenwood Housing Projects to spy on the apartment, it seemed that the local police were watching God too.

Chapter Thirty-Six

August

You sure these fools got paper like that?” God asked Charlie.

“I’m sure, God. These fools are fuckin’ paid,” Charlie assured him.

God nodded. “A’ight, cuz you know we need this fuckin’ money. We gotta leave town fo’ a while.”

Charlie nodded. “I’m wit’ you, baby, fo’ real. Let’s get this money.”

The two were like fireworks ready to go off—a bit edgy and less prepared than with their previous licks. They were hungry for another payday, and Charlie felt that this was it. The couple was like two crack fiends parked outside the Queens residence. The home invasion had become addictive to them. The money was good, but it was the rush of kicking in doors and committing murders that got them high and excited.

Charlie had found another mark for them to rob. However, doing a lick without Fingers around was an odd feeling.

In a Brooklyn nightclub, Charlie had found some bitch from Queens who was fucking with a grimy Brownsville dude. Charlie noticed the woman’s Hermes bags, the Rolex watch, earrings—the whole nine yards. She just knew they had paper. Charlie had befriended the woman and gotten close to her, close enough to get her address. Now it was action time—mayhem and murder.

God handed Charlie a .45, and he cocked back a 9mm. The home looked average—nothing spectacular about it. There was a Ford Explorer in the driveway and a lawnmower left out in the yard.

Watching the place from across the street in the dark, God and Charlie felt they were ready to go. They saw their opening when another car pulled into the driveway. It was going to be as simple as 1, 2, and 3—push their way into the home and take over shit. They’d done it countless times.

A woman got out of the Chrysler 300. She was dressed nicely and carried a different color Hermes bag. Charlie had her eye on that bag. She ached to snatch it from that bitch’s hand.

“Let’s go!” God said.

God threw the black hoodie over his head, somewhat masking his face. Charlie did the same. Both wearing all black and black latex gloves, they promptly exited the vehicle and darted across the street in the shadows toward the unsuspecting victim. But unbeknownst to them, they were also being watched from a short distance.

The moment the woman stepped foot on her porch and put her key in the door, God and Charlie lunged at her from behind. Charlie thrust the barrel of her gun in the frightened woman’s face and they pushed their way into the home. Before she could even scream, Charlie was all over her, violently pistol whipping her. God hurried through the house and caught the boyfriend completely off guard in the kitchen. He aimed his 9mm at him and told him to get down on his knees. The man complied.

The couple was duct taped and restrained in the kitchen, and God and Charlie started to ransack their house. Charlie immediately went to their bedroom to find those designer Hermes bags that she always saw that bitch with. She came across half a dozen of them in the closet. But Charlie had an eye for fashion and she spotted the difference in stitching and material. They were fake. All of them. And the jewelry was fake too.

“What the fuck!” she cursed.

God and Charlie vehemently went through the entire house, tearing things apart, turning things over, tearing down pictures and cutting up the couches and chairs. Where was the safe? The money? The clothes? There was nothing inside the house worth taking.

God looked fiercely at Charlie and shouted, “You told me they had fuckin’ money!”

“I thought they did!”

All the couple had combined in the house was $97.00. Furious, God marched into the kitchen and went for the boyfriend, angrily pistol whipping him until his face turned bloody and there were several gashes across his forehead. Blood ran from his hair and forehead into his eyes and down his face.

“Where the fuck is everything?” God shouted at the boyfriend.

The boyfriend didn’t respond. He had been badly beaten. He was a bloody mess. God had injured his hand during the attack and cross contaminated his DNA with the victim’s. He wasn’t thinking straight. He wanted cash, jewelry, drugs—anything.

“You fuckin’ heard him!” Charlie shouted at the female.

She viciously assaulted the female while she was restrained. She kicked and pistol whipped the girl. Her face became puffy and swollen, a result of several hard blows to the face.

“They ain’t got shit here worth taking!” God shouted.

“We need to go.”

There was no payday. The couple had been fronting around town like they were ballers. But they weren’t. It was only a gimmick. God felt that they’d left him with no choice. He lifted the barrel of the gun to the man’s head

and fired—Bak!