Free The Pussy Trap by Ne Ne Capri Page A

and willing to do whatever she had to do to get it.
     
    By the time Kayson was seventeen, he was no longer his uncle’s shadow; he was more like his oracle. Kayson would show on the scene, sit in a corner, and listen to them plan. Once they were done, they would turn to Kayson and ask him what he thought. Then follow it to the letter.
     
     
    ****
     
     
    Kayson was in the local bar sitting in the back with a hoodie on his head and reading a book called As a Man Thinketh. Three dudes came walking in the bar, but Kayson never looked up. Instead, he became a chameleon so he could listen and observe. They sat down at the bar, ordered a few drinks, and started to run their mouths. The subject at hand was his uncle. All Kayson could think was how bad it was to sit in public and discuss business; especially the demise of a nigga, while totally oblivious of the surroundings.
     
    Kayson was able to get every one of their names and peg where they were from. They finished their drinks, and then another man came walking in. He spoke, gave them an envelope of money, and said, “It’s all there, handle it and make it quick.” Then he headed back to the door.
     
    Kayson let thirty seconds pass, then he smoothed passed them and posted himself outside. He watched the man get into his car and mentally noted the license plate and watched him pull off. Once he was gone, he quickly wrote it down. He posted himself across the street on the bus stop like he was waiting on the bus.
     
    When the other three men came out the bar, he watched each one get into their cars and wrote down each of their plate numbers. He went to work on finding out who they were. Kayson didn’t tell his uncle what had went down; he wanted to make sure he had something first. From the pay phone, he called Dominique who had a friend who worked at the department of motor vehicles and gave her the numbers.
     
    Within the hour, Dominique gave Kayson the information he needed. Out of the four, only one of their cars was registered to a female. The dude that came out the bar first who had paid the other two lames to put the hit out. That must have been his woman whose name was on the car. That night, Kayson suited up, got his two forty-fives, and he went to the block where his informant told him they hung out. There they were, all three, sitting in front of the corner store engrossed in conversation oblivious to the danger that lay ahead. He slid along the shadow and crept up on them and started blasting, laying them down one by one. The first two died instantly and when he got to the last one, the nigga was pleading for his life. Kayson said in a calm voice, “Where is the money he paid you to kill Rabb?”
     
    “I don’t know what you talking about, man.”
     
    Kayson shot him in the kneecap and the lame screamed like a bitch. “I’m going to ask you one more time, where is the money?”
     
    “In that green Range Rover, man. Just stop shooting me. Shit, I don’t even know why the fat man wants Rabb dead.”
     
    Kayson walked over to the Rover, busted the window, and grabbed the envelope between the seats. He walked back over to guy who had just given him the information and blew his brains out. Then he walked over to where the other two lay and put three more bullets in each of them to make a point. Pulling his hood over his head, he walked off like nothing happened. People looked on in horror.
     
    Kayson’s next move was to get to the head nigga’s house, Fat Sam. He pulled up to the address registered to the woman whose name was on the tags. The same car he saw him get into earlier was parked in the driveway. All the lights were out, so he crept around the back of the house and found a window open on the first floor. He climbed in nice and easy. When he approached the room, he heard what sounded like a woman moaning.
     
    Kayson eased to the door and peeked through the crack and just as he thought, Fat Sam was deep in some pussy. He pulled out his