A Killer'z Ambition: A Killer'z Ambition, #1

By Nathan Welch

After ten years of imprisonment, convicted killer, Carmelo Glover was vindicated on an appeal and released back into the streets of Washington, DC. Now Carmelo wants revenge for all on lock and doing time because of a snitch. Seriously dedicated to his cause Carmelo blitzes through a violent war of snakes, and snitches, punishing them for sweet moments of revenge, and...A Killer z Ambition. As the body count rises, Carmelo get ensnared in a deadly cat and mouse game with a rogue detective who was recruited to bring the killer to justice either dead or alive. As the noose closes around him, can Carmelo summon the skills to prevent his own demise?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DC Bookdiva Publications
• Release date: May 24, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507017746

Book preview

Published by DC Bookdiva Publications

Copyright © 2011 by Nathan E. Welch

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recordings or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book; except in the case of brief questions embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN-10: 0-9846110-3-7

ISBN-13: 978-0-9846110-3-4

Library of Congress Control Number:

First Edition, March, 2011

Printed in the United States

Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is without a cover, it may have been reported to the publisher as unsold or destroyed and neither the author(s) nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

Publisher’s Note

This is a work of fiction. Any names historical events, real people, living and dead, or the locales are intended only to give the fiction a setting in historic reality. Other names, characters, places, businesses and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

Edited by: Janell Talley

Graphic Designer: Strickly Graphics

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those good men who gave me the inspiration to write this story: Ian Foreman, Antione Pusshead Wilson, Raphael Parker, Titus Webster and Larry Lucas.

Thanx for riding me to the point when I had to step up my game TEN MORE NOTCHES!!!

THIS HERE IS TOPS!!!

Acknowledgments

First and Foremost ALL PRAISES ARE DUE TO ALLAH: The creator of the Universe and all that exist. None of this would be possible without his divine plan and blessings—He gave me the Talents to paint pictures with words—ALLAHU AKBAR!!!

Much love to Tiah Short, for putting me in the Public Eyes…Now, I can get my shine on through DC Bookdiva Publications and bring in them Megabucks… You gave me an avenue to be heard and I'll never forget that! Whatever you need, I got you for life… Thanx again Babe! Much thankz goes out to Linda Williams for the wonderful job you did in inputting my book.

To my get GET FAMILIAR FAMILY: TALKSICK, MILK, and Clinton Sparks, thanx a lot for recognizing the real and giving me a shot at the title. It's LOYALTY FOR LIFE AND THAT'S REAL… SHOUT OUT TO Intalksickatingink. For dropping hot hits and not hot garbage. Hope to flow with you soon…

To my FAST LANE FAMILY: Everything happens for a reason, but we still gon' make it no doubt! Eyone Williams (HELL RAZOR HONEYS) you like dat Slim; keep doing your thang… Aisha Bailey, you're like the sister I never had and I want to thank you for all that you have done during this struggle. You're a Powerful and Very Supportive Sister and I just wish you the Best in all your future endeavors… And that offer to be my Agent is still on the table if you want it?

To the Fans: This is my first novel in print but I have been writing for years—Now you get to see what the World's been missing! Thanx for your purchase and Support. Y’all are giving me a chance to live legal and entertain the masses, and make my Mother Proud… THANX A ZILLION FROM MY CHEST TO YOURS….

To the brothers and comrades in the struggle: It's too many to name, but if you've dealt with me before then sign your John Hancock right here_____________... Thanx for not hating, and being there for me when needed—Keep Your Headz Up.

To Strap aka John A. Harris: You laid some mean vocals down for this Joint and I have to set your Props out—Good Looking Slim, and in my book, you're the best Rapper to come outta' D.C. For Real!!!

To My Mother: Patricia M. Welch , you can smile now and say that's my baby. I'm doing it for you to make up for all the Pain that I caused you---I LOVE YOU OLE' LADY!!!

To the rest of my Family: Carolyn Welch(R.I.P), Tiffany Edmonds, Ronald Williamson, Sharon Williamson, Morticia P. Gray, Henry Welch, and R.I.P. Sidney Pegram---Yo' Lil' Stump did it… Wish you could be here to share in my joy and accomplishments.

Thanx Family for riding with me during this struggle; I appreciate y’all for real… In due time I'ma bless all y’all. Trust and believe, I'ma make sure y’all are swelling like the RICH AND FAMOUS, BUT FOR NOW--I NEED Y’ALL TO PLAY YOUR PARTS AND GET OUT THERE AND SELL SOME BOOKS FOR ME…LOVE ALWAYS…

To my main man: Dumb-ass Youngin', I mess with you from the heart Slim. You're the only one who kept it real with me since we met and I'll never forget you for that, and I'm forever LOYAL to YOU Clifford Milhouse—MY BESTEST BUDDY…

To all of those I forgotten: Don't take it personal—I'm just trying to keep it short and simple. Besides I'm working on a Budget here, so ease up!!!

ONE LOVE,

NATHAN 'BIG NATION' WELCH

An inward scope into the hearts and longing of all paragons of men who have been cast into the infernal prison system

– Antone Tone White

Prelude

They done let the wrong motherfucker out of HELL! I snickered as I exited D.C. Jail with a second chance at life.

Six months ago, I was sitting in a United States penitentiary in Marion, Illinois, trying to beat the sweltering heat and just reaching a decade on a 46-year-to-LIFE prison term for catching a homicide and an armed robbery beef.

Fortunately, this time my appeals got my convictions overturned on a legal technicality, and I damn sure wasn't about to go to trial for a second time once I learned that the same hot motherfuckers were willing to come to court and sing like canaries again! Instead, I took a 10-to-25 year manslaughter plea agreement and walked with time served because the judge suspended all but ten years that I had served.

With my newfound freedom, I had a purpose to serve. There would be no more hustling for peanuts and expensive designer clothes. It's a damn shame that I have to quit hustling, but some things more important had to be handled for the forgotten men on lockdown. I've been through several correctional facilities across America, and there hadn't been one guy who wasn't rotting in prison because of a SNITCH!

I even went to the extent of getting those guys’ contact information just in case they made it back to the streets before I did.

But as you know, I, Carmelo Glover, made it first, and I must keep a vow that I made the second after I got convicted—BY ANY MEANS—to eliminate every hot motherfucker in the streets that I could.

Like every top-notch killer, I had a plan, and as soon as I get them guns, I would begin executing it. Although this time, things were much riskier, but I loved challenges, and this was the biggest one of my life!

Hell, if motherfuckers could lie, snitch and send good men to prison for EONS, then why I couldn't kill their weak asses and get street justice and revenge for the forgotten ones?

If you're feeling me, then come and take a ride with me in THE CITY WHERE IT GOES DOWN !!!

Chapter 1

I tried to stay as calm as I could with my father's front door being slammed in my face. I'd just walked from D.C. Jail, which was in the Southeast part of the city, all the way uptown, to Northwest, the equivalent of a New York City hike from Manhattan to the South Bronx.

My father died during my fourth year in jail, and my stepmother turned his home into a crackhouse. She had refused all of my telephone calls and straight dogged me out once my pops died. I just wanted to know why.

NOW I KNEW!

So much for a welcome home party, I thought, and then banged on the door again until my hand began hurting.

Bitch, if you don't open up this door, I'ma burn you up outta that ma'fucka! I yelled.

Carmelo! You better leave before I call the police on you! she screamed.

What! I bellowed. Look, ain't no need for all that. I'm gone, I lied. Now I was really pissed. This bitch had to die. Won't nobody miss her funky ass. She's just in a nigga's way for real, I thought, growing insane with anger because of her threats.

I stepped away from the door, which faced the short flight of stairs in the four-unit apartment building. She couldn't see me even if she looked out the peephole because the hallway was extremely dark. It even hid my bright-ass Albino complexion.

Once it grew quiet, I heard her leaning on the door. When I was certain that she was all the way up on the door, I spun toward the door and kicked it with all the strength I could muster. When the door flew open, this bitch had the audacity to run.

Don't run now, bitch! I growled, catching her by her bad hair weave.

I put her in a chokehold until she fainted. I peered at her, then left the front room to find my father's guns. After putting on a pair of gym socks, I began trashing the house, releasing a decade of pent-up anger, frustration and sadness. Raiding the closet, I found my pop's .45-caliber Colt automatic and his 15-shot Browning 9 mm. I was surprised her fien'in ass didn't sell them. I grabbed a few photographs of my pops and put them in my pocket. I cried silently as I left his bedroom for what would be the last time.

There was no future for me here.

I turned the volume on the stereo and the TV up to the max and nudged this black heifer's still frame. When I didn't get a response, I leaned in her ear.

This is for my father, bitch, I whispered. He told me if he died before I got outta jail, you had something to do with his death. So take this. I gently placed the .45 against her right temple and squeezed the trigger twice.

As her blood and brain matter soiled the dingy carpet, I left the apartment through the back door. Once I got outside, I saw all of my pop's neighbors standing around enjoying a cookout in somebody's backyard. I quickly reentered the scene of the crime and sprinted out the front door. My heart was pounding.

Within minutes, I created space between me and the crime scene. Whoever finds her body will assume it was a breaking and entering gone foul. But I knew the truth. And it will be a secret that I'll take to my grave, I thought, as I walked briskly down 11th Street.

k

Thirty minutes and thirty blocks later, I was in the projects around LeDroit Park. I was very cautious during my trek to Aaron's house. I was out of the loop for a while, but I didn't forget that there were a lot of ways to get killed in these parts of the city if you didn't know where your ass was at.

Standing 6 ft. even and weighing a solid 215 pounds with a French vanilla complexion, I knew I stuck out like a Caucasian at a Nation of Islam pep rally. With my fresh-outta-jail glow and boyish good looks, all eyes were on me, and not too many guys appreciated it when their girlfriends nearly got whiplash trying to get a look at me.

I reached the middle of First and U streets and knocked on Aaron’s front door. I knew he couldn't hear me because I heard music blaring loudly through his basement window.

AY, AARON! I yelled over and over as I tapped on the basement window repeatedly, only to get no response. I tried the door, and it was unlocked.

Chapter 2

BigBoy is slipping like shit, I thought, before pulling out the .45 and slowly entering the house. As I walked through the doorway, I noticed the front room was trashed just like I'd done my pop's crib. My heart began to race as all types of shit ran through my head.

Aaron! I know you hear me! BigBoy? I called out to my only true friend left in society and went farther into the basement apartment.

I hope ain't nobody crush my man. Slim is a good motherfucker and the only dude who looked out for me during my bid, I thought, as I reached his bedroom and opened the door.

Who the fuck! Aaron yelled as he rolled off the king-size bed and went for a big-ass gun.

HOLD UP, AARON! I yelled. WHOA, AARON! IT'S ME, CARMELO! I explained, watching Shantice jump up and quickly wrap the sheets around her naked frame. The stench of weed mixed with sex invaded my nostrils while I watched Aaron and Shantice hurry to get dressed.

Aaron Whitmore has been my friend since Gage Elementary School. When Aaron got arrested for hustling back in the day, his folks worked out a deal with the courts and sent him off to Job Corps somewhere in Drums, Pennsylvania, for two years. When Aaron completed the program, he returned to the city and began doing big things on the legal tip.At age thirty, Aaron already owns a four-story home, which he obtained legally and now rents out to boarders. And no one can take that away from him.

Shantice Carmody had been a friend of ours since our days at Shaw Junior High School. She got pregnant by Aaron and had an abortion, but they’ve managed to stay together since they were teens.

I don't know how because Aaron and Shantice always argued. They fought like cats and dogs. They had the hood convinced that they hated each other's guts. I guess opposites do attract, I told myself, and decided to tease my partner and his girl.

Hurry up and bring y’all freak asses on up outta there! I laughed, noticing that Shantice didn't think it was funny at all.

In the hood, Shantice was more sought after than some potent drugs. The 5’6." 135-pound dark-skin beauty with a fully developed 32-24-40 body always kept her hair and nails immaculate. Not to mention since junior high, Shantice always had the latest gear and shoes, which had a lot of guys in D.C. trying to snatch her up on some wifey time.

Slim, how in the fuck did you get out? Aaron asked, interrupting my thoughts. And how the fuck did you get up in here? You almost caught that hot shit.

Ease up, BigBoy, I smirked. My appeals came through, and you left that ma'fuckin' door open. I thought a ma'fucka peeled your shit back after I saw the front room all fucked up, I said as Shantice slowly got dressed.

Shantice rolled her oval eyes at me, then slid on a yellow thong and matching bra. After checking out her assets, my equipment stiffened. I'd never noticed how sexy Shantice was until now. Maybe it was the decade without any pussy in my life.

Shantice, I think you should go out for a few so I can holler at Carmelo. I'll see you tonight, Aaron told her. She nodded without disagreeing, which surprised me.

Shantice had always been the drama queen and confrontational type. I watched Aaron's 6’2" hulking frame exit the bedroom. He had flawless caramel brown skin covered in tattoos, which made him look like a larger version of the rapper Styles P from the L.O.X. with 2-Pac-like tattoos.

Seconds after we entered the living room, Shantice came out and kissed Aaron on the lips.

See you later, boo. Remember who loves you, okay, she said softly, then left the basement. Before she closed the door, I could've sworn she gave me a seductive glance.

I was jive flattered but quickly shook that shit off. I was free for one purpose: to rid the city of all snitches and fake motherfuckers who ruined the GAME. I wanted to fuck something badly, but that shit would have to wait for now. Now it was time for me to holler at Aaron in hopes of getting some help.

Fuck is up, slim? What's up with this messy-ass crib?

Shantice was tripping again. You know how she gets when she feels like I played her out of pocket. Even though I know she's a lunchbox, I can't cut her sexy black ass off, Aaron confessed, shaking his head.

You gotta stop being soft on them broads and start checking them bitches, I admonished him.

Although the thoughts of having a female going crazy over my dick jive turned me on, but you can never lose focus when dealing with a bitch. They're evil by nature and not to be trusted.

I did check her ass, and it lead up to a fight and some bomb-ass make-up sex—until you popped up, Aaron joked, picking up a pre-rolled blunt.

Looka here, BigBoy, I'ma come all the way clean with you. I'm broke, homeless and fucked up. I really need you to throw me a bone until I get on my feet.

Aaron looked away and lit the blunt as he answered. Slim, I'm not in the GAME no more. It's too many hot ma'fuckaz out here, he said as he looked out the basement window. "Melo, this house is my only major source of income, and I do temporary plumbing work sometimes. I'm fucked up too, slim, but I'll do whatever I can to look out. I got an open room up on the third floor. It's yours for however long you need it.

Thanks, slim. I hugged him tightly.

Cut all that freak-ass shit out, Melo, Aaron joked and pushed me away playfully. I mean, we cool but not that damn cool. Naw, but on some real shit, we boys, slim, and if I can help you out, then I'ma do it without blinking.

There were no words that could express the gratitude that I felt at that moment, so instead of speaking, I just remained silent as we smoked. I listened to Aaron fill me in on everything he knew that had happened during my ten-year absence from the streets.

I listened to stories about niggaz going to prison because of a snitch, so-called gangstaz hanging out with these chumps who got a rack of good men caught up in the justice system and so-called hustlers making DVDs glorifying a hot nigga who really fucked the game up in D.C. and made it seem like it was okay to start SNITCHING! When Aaron finished, I shook my head in disgust. Things done really changed on this side of the prison walls, and once I heard my partner was barely making it, I knew I had to do something to get out of Aaron's house and help him get another house.

I was alone in my cause, and no matter what it took, I would get retribution for the forgotten ones. As soon as the opportunity arrives, I'ma make a move to get paid, then go SNITCH HUNTING, and there wasn't nothing anyone could do to stop me.

Chapter 3

The following day, I found myself up with the chirping birds and walking through the neighborhood that I once called home. I grew up on First and Thomas streets in LeDroit Park, in the