“How you hear about this spot?” one of the bouncers asked him.

“Nigga, who ain’t heard about this spot?” Kip then reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash to impress them and to show that he was serious.

The men looked more relaxed, seeing his wad, and eased up on their quick grilling. They searched him for any weapons and allowed him access to the place.

Kip walked through the foyer and into the spacious black room filled with gamblers and dealers. The underground casino looked like it was generating tons of money for the owner or owners with blackjack, dice games, roulette tables, and several slot machines. Men in black, presumably bouncers, were situated everywhere looking for cheaters or troublemakers.

The first thing Kip looked for was surveillance, and fortunately for him, there wasn’t any. The last thing he needed was his face captured on video cameras while looking to murder someone. He walked around the room shrewdly, searching for Big Sean, and soon found him gambling at the roulette table.

Kip remained expressionless. He quickly texted his crew: he’s here, 20 mins, bringing him out, park around the corner. Kip blended into the crowd easily. He sat at the blackjack tables and placed two hundred dollars in front of him, faking interest in the game. He received two hundred dollars in chips from the dealer.

From his location, he had a clear sight of Big Sean’s every movement.

The cards were dealt. Kip landed a king of spades and then a five of hearts, totaling fifteen. “Hit me,” he told the dealer, knocking his knuckles on the table.

The dealer removed a card from the deck and placed it upwards near his other cards and he was out, losing with king of hearts. He lost fifty dollars.

Kip bet another fifty, and the cards were dealt again. He received a ten of diamonds and the next card was a ten of hearts, totaling twenty. “Staying,” he told the dealer.

The dealer dealt himself a nineteen, and Kip won fifty dollars.

Kip continued to gamble while watching Big Sean play roulette. Not caring if he won or lost, his eyes were on a different prize.

Ten minutes went by, and he mostly won, but he still sat watching Big Sean.

Taking his small winnings, Kip removed himself from the table and went toward his target. Deliberately, he made himself known to Big Sean. He was surprised to see Kip there. They started to chat like old friends.

Kip said to him, “Yo, we did another score the other night, came off nice on some jewelry, and got some shit outside in the car. You wanna take a look?”

“Oh word, you ain’t hit up Meek yet?” Big Sean asked.

“Not yet, but I got you, my nigga. You can have first dibs on the stuff.”

Kip noticed that he was wearing the watch Meek had given him. It was a bright piece of jewelry with diamonds that stood out. Big Sean flossed it around proudly.

Hearing that he had first dibs on stolen jewelry before Meek could take a look at it, Big Sean was enthused. “I’m down, let’s go take a look.”

Kip smiled. “Follow me then.”

He and Big Sean moved toward the exit. They walked out of the building and onto the quiet street, nothing coming or going for blocks.

“Follow me.”

Big Sean walked behind Kip. They went up the street and turned the corner, and were on a barren street, no cars, except for Devon’s parked Expedition, closed buildings, and darkness.

“Yo, I need a chain,” Big Sean said. “A diamond Jesus face. You got one of those?”

“We got a lot of shit. When you see what we got, you gonna love it.”

Big Sean smiled.

As they approached the truck, Devon and Papa John climbed out. They opened the back gate and lifted the door. There was nothing back there. It was empty. The back was lined with a plastic tarp.

Big Sean looked at Kip with confusion. “What is this?” he asked.

“Yo, my bad, my nigga,” Kip said. “We still got you.”

“What?”

Tags: Erica Hilton Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net