One Lick Too Many

By Steven L. Anderson

The book places you in the lifestyle of a young girl who grew up among dangerous criminals. Her parents were killed by the same streets that raised her. Lonnie became Bees lover after murdering her parents, but she will seek revenge on all who had a part in it. Bee went against Lonnie to become the city crime lord.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543450880

Steven L. Anderson

Bishop is the type of person who listens and teaches. Also, he is very caring. Being the oldest of five children raised by a strong loving mother he faced all types of battles. Raised in the city where he graduated from school as well as the streets. Bishop was the man of the house at the age 12 years old. Now married with children and grandchildren he is retired writing novels. Bishop is family oriented, and has traveled to other countries. Bishop believes everyone has a purpose in life.

Book preview

Prologue

In the game of drugs and robbery, there are rules that must be followed. Many have tried and failed to come out of it without a scratch, yet we continue to believe that the game is the way out of poverty. The game has been cut, and the scars worn by many of its players are no longer looked at as war wounds, badges of honor. Now they only represent the horrible consequences one will encounter when the game goes bad.

August 12, 2005

10:00 PM

Bee snatched the answering machine from the wall socket and slung it across the room. All she could think about now was getting out of Cincinnati. As she grabbed her suitcases from beneath the bed, she remembered what her father told her about the key to his safety deposit box. She tossed the cases on the bed and walked down the hall to the coat closet and rambled through his old clothes, searching for it. Outside the townhouse, a car pulled into the parking lot, lights off and at a creep. Three men got out and walked toward her apartment. A nosy neighbor, returning from walking her dog, asked them who they were looking for. Bee heard the commotion and went to check it out, but before she got there, one of the men pulled out a gun with a silencer and shot the woman twice in the head.

Boom! went the door to Bee’s townhouse as the men rushed inside. Grab her! Don’t let her get to a weapon! yelled one of them.

Bee struggled to get loose when they grabbed her, kicking and swinging wildly. She kicked one in the balls, dropping him to his knees. The other grabbed her, twisted one arm behind her back, and slammed her face-first into the wall.

Turn her ass around! I want her to see me! yelled the man who seemed to be calling the shots as he helped his soldier from the floor. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw him. He stepped toward her and hit her in the stomach, folding her tiny frame like the lid on a cardboard box. She coughed, looked up at him, and smiled. He removed his shoulder strap and reached for her cheek. She spat at him.

You really are a bad little bitch, you know that? Ain’t nuttin’ wrong with it doe. I liked that about you from the beginning. That’s why it’s a honor to do to yo’ ass what um finna do. So by all means, spit again. He chuckled before hitting her two more times with rib-shattering blows that caused blood to gush from her mouth.

Where’s Lonnie’s money? I know you got it, he said, lifting Bee’s head.

She laughed hysterically and said, Fuck you, Los! You gon’ die for doing this to me.

He stepped back and placed his hands on his hips in disbelief. He admired her. Her reputation in the city made her one of the most respected broads in the game, but he needed badly to crush her ego, to break her completely. He told the two men to hold her down, and they forced her to the floor as he pulled his .45 from its holster.

You know um finna fuck you up, don’t you? Figuratively and literally, he said, kneeling next to her. He rubbed his hand over her head, and she shook it left to right to avoid his touch. One of the men grabbed her by the neck and pinned it to the floor like a vise. Tears slowly trickled down her face, and she smiled. He smiled too then tossed his gun into a summersault, catching it by the barrel before hammering it down on her tiny hand, crushing the bones instantly. She yelled out in pain as he repeated the act on the other hand.

When her screams became whimpers, he dragged her into her bedroom and raped her over and over again. She couldn’t fight anymore. She knew it wasn’t about the money. It was revenge, plain and simple.

He stood and pulled her by the ankles to the end of the bed and ordered the men to hold her broken hands. He wanted to make her ugly. Inside and out. So he took his gun again and beat her face ’til the bones broke in her jaws. Her eyes closed, and her pain stopped …

Chapter One

Her Birthday

Ten years earlier …

It was August 12, 1995, and the temperature outside was at an all-time high for the city of Cincinnati. Thirteen-year-old Benita Bradshaw sat patiently in her father’s Ford Taurus, roasting behind windows that wouldn’t open. He had told her that he wouldn’t be long, but she knew how his addiction to heroin often made a lie of everything he said.

She fanned herself in an attempt to cool her sweat-beaded face. As she stared at the entrance to the apartment complex, thoughts of her mother in her favorite sundress flashed through her mind. It was a vision she had allowed to stay in her heart and mind ever since she was killed in a car accident a year earlier. Every other thought of her made Benita cry. And crying was something the teen was never good at doing. It made her feel in control when she could stop tears from owning the corners of her big brown eyes. In fact, nothing was permitted to control space inside her, nowhere. She was hard as iron mentally, but her father could sense the pain bottled up inside her. He gave her the nickname Bee or Bumble Bee because of the sting one felt when she gave them a piercing stare.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a crowd of people came from the complex. She sat up, hoping that he would. But he didn’t. She knew he sometimes owed dealers money he didn’t have, especially since they had been living off the insurance money from her mother’s death. The thought of losing him too crossed her mind, and she decided to go look for him. She found a pocketknife in the glove compartment and tucked it in her pocket. She opened the door and caught a whiff of hot air as she pulled her blouse from her sweat-soaked skin! Being that she was well developed for her age, her breasts, uncovered by a bra, made her feel naked. So she folded her arms across her chest and walked into the entranceway. The sight was horrible. Never had she seen or smelled anything like it.

The walls were lined with people flicking lighters and smoking crack. It almost made Bee throw up. She covered her mouth and ran up the stairs. When she reached the landing at the top, she noticed the atmosphere had changed. Now it was the powerful smell of weed that clouded her senses. She could barely see down the long hallway but followed the scent as far as she could. When she got to the end of the hall, she pushed open a cracked door and peeped inside. Music played softly in the background while two men gangbanged a short-haired woman on the carpet-covered floor.

Bee froze at the sight of her swallowing the huge penis of one while another jammed in and out of her from the rear. The woman saw Bee watching and tried to pull the penis from her mouth. The man slapped her hand down, grabbed her head, and pounded hard against her lips. When she began to gag from it, it scared Bee, and she eased past them and into another part of the apartment. Her tiny body was glued to the wall. She fought to control her breathing as she stumbled into another room.

This time, nothing could prepare her for what she saw. Her father hung by his wrists from a beam in the ceiling while two men took turns beating him. She wanted to scream but couldn’t. They couldn’t see her, but she saw them.

You had enough? yelled a third man, sitting in the corner of the room, snorting coke off a huge mirror. You must’ve been outta yo’ damn mind to think you could take from me, JP. After all I did for you. Paying for that mutt bitch of yours funeral and buying food and shit for yo’ little girl. Don’t you have no shame, nigga?

He signaled for the goons to hit him again. The moans from her father’s mouth showed how much pain he was in. He bit down on his lip to fight crying out. He too was tough, and at one time in his life, he was known for being a stickman for many organizations surrounding the game of drugs.

Look, muthafucka, I told you I will get yo’ money, said JP, spitting blood at them. I ain’t no good to you all fucked up, Lonnie, and you know it. Just give me—

Shut the fuck up! yelled the huge man as he stood and walked toward JP’s hanging body.

Lonnie Griffin was a few years younger than Bee’s father, but stood about six-feet-three and was built like a bronze god. He ran the west side of Cincinnati. He had his hand in everything, making money from drugs to prostitution. And if you knew him, you knew not to fuck with this nigga.

Bee’s father had seen his share of senseless killings and had done most of ’em for this young kingpin. And yet he faced death himself at the same hands. Never bite the hand that feeds you, thought JP as he snorted and spit again.

Lonnie held his hand out, palm up, to receive the knife passed to him from his henchman. He stepped up in JP’s face. When you feel the blade touch your rotten lung, let me know. Maybe then you’ll see the seriousness in the situation. He drew back to jam the weapon deep into the broken body of his enemy when out of nowhere, Bee jumped out from behind the cracked door and sliced his arm with her pocketknife.

Aww shit! yelled Lonnie, grabbing hold of the wound and staggering backward. One of the goons grabbed her and slammed her to the floor.

JP laughed out loud. That’s my girl! That’s right, kill ’em goddamit!

Lonnie couldn’t help himself—he laughed too. Seeing the irony of it all made it a joke to him, and plus, it was the first time he really saw the girl.

He dropped to his knees next to her squirming body. So this is the li’l bitch I been supportin’, huh? Nice, real nice, he said.

Bee never took her eyes off him either. She just kept squirming, breathing like a pit bull after a dogfight. Lonnie bent forward and bit a small chunk from her ear. She screamed, and her father laughed harder as his tears blurred his vision of his daughter’s blood.

Lonnie stood, walked back to the man, and spit the chunk of ear in his face. Then he grabbed his neck with one hand and his nuts with the other. JP squinched with pain.

Where’s my fuckin’ bread, nigga? snarled Lonnie.

Uma pay you back, man, I swear, dammit! Please, let her go. I’ll get yo’ money, cried JP.

How, when, nigga? Where you gon’ find a hundred thousand dollars, huh? yelled Lonnie, squeezing tighter.

JP cried more intensely as he looked at his daughter pinned to the floor. Her, he cried. She can get it. She can work for you, man. Sell her self. Sell yo’ product, whatever you need her to do man. Just don’t hurt her. She’s all I got, Lonnie. You know that, he said, finally submitting.

Lonnie signaled for the goon to let her go. She stood holding her ear and the knife. Without asking, she walked over and cut her father down from the beam. When his battered body hit the floor, she fell to his side. It took everything in her not to cry.

And it wasn’t the pain of being bitten, but the embarrassment of knowing her father thought so little of her after all she’d been through. She rubbed his face, trying desperately to hide his tears from the man who would now own his soul. And hers.

Lonnie told her father he would give them a moment to discuss how it would play out. He and his men left the room, but not before he told JP to make sure there was no breach in the new contract.

As Bee sat listening to all the horrible things her father said she would have to do to make it safe for them, something inside her broke. He rubbed the blood from her ear with his torn shirt as he made light of the situation. She argued and pouted, but he didn’t let up till he was sure she would comply to the fullest. She hated him now. And the more she hated him, the more she respected Lonnie’s power. He was the strongest man she’d ever seen since her father started using. She just listened now. Stared into nowhere and listened.

Things got crazy over the next five years. By the year 2000, JP had lost all his weight and had gotten a severe case of cancer to go along with the HIV he contracted from sharing his needles with any and everybody. All he did now was lie around waiting for Bee to bring him more drugs.

Now Bee, that’s another story altogether. She had saved a whole lot of money selling her self. She also learned a lot about the things men do in the streets, the way some would treat women when they thought it made them more powerful. But her greatest lesson came when she was sent to a big-time drug dealer named Wayne Stone. This nigga was super crazy! The things he did to women made a billy goat throw up. She had heard about him but never thought Lonnie would push her his way.

Lonnie was very good to Bee despite the hold he had on her. The funny thing was that Bee’s hustle made it easy to pay off her father’s debt to him, but she didn’t. She just gave him installments when he knew she had it all. But she pleased him in more ways than one. All of which made it easier for everyone involved.

Bee had just finished dropping off a package for JP when the doorbell rang. She walked through their new apartment, closing doors so that the company couldn’t see all her shit, and stopped at a mirror in the hallway to check her eye shadow.

She was so beautiful. Five feet four inches and a little over a hundred and thirty-one pounds. She was amazing to look at, which was probably why she made so much money too. Her small waist and bubbled booty and well-rounded breasts were all the candy needed to give niggas a sweet tooth. She looked a lot like Laura London, brown skinned, big dimples, and drop-dead gorgeous!

Hold on, damn! she yelled, dragging her house shoes across the hardwood floor as she sashayed toward the door. When she opened it, she blushed. It was Lonnie. He had been sneaking around with her for nearly a year. It was her eighteenth birthday, and he had a surprise for her.

Hey, baby girl, happy birthday! he said, pulling a bunch of roses from behind his back. Bee put her finger to his lips and pulled him into the apartment. She didn’t want JP to know she’d been fuckin’ him or loving him. It would kill her father. But she was dead the day he gave her to Lonnie. He was just too pressed for dope to see it.

She dropped her white-laced gown to the floor, showing off the prettiest Victoria’s Secret bra and panty set the nigga had ever seen.

Oh yeahhh? That’s for me? he said, grabbing her behind the neck and hoisting her up in his arms. She wiggled her feet so her shoes would fall off and, without speaking, directed him to a room away from her father’s. He mumbled into her neck as he pushed open a screen door to a small balcony.

No, not out here, she said, changing her attitude.

He went on anyway, closing the screen behind them with his foot. It was midafternoon and sunny. The apartment was on the south side of the city, and most of the other occupants were working at that time of the day. He didn’t care anyway.

He put her down and shoved her up against the railing. She was both mad and turned on by his roughness toward her. She liked it and he knew it. Every man she slept with, she owned. She created a fantasy, and they bought it. But not Lonnie. The thirty-one-year-old gangsta had had his share of women—gold diggers, gangsta bitches, the whole thing. He knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. Wasn’t no controlling him.

How much you make last night? he asked, pulling his belt from around his waist.

She looked at him, then the belt, then back at him, moving away as careful as possible. A couple of thousand, baby. Why, you wanna whoop me? I used a rubber, um clean, she said.

He wrapped the belt tightly around his huge hand then reached out for her.

Baby please! What I do? she cried, using her hands to keep him at a distance. I thought I did good. I did everything you said.

He loved it when she squirmed. It made his blood boil. He had beaten her raw so many times that she had begun to believe it was an aphrodisiac. He grabbed her and pulled her to him. She could feel his breath at her neck. It sent chills down her spine, and she tingled with pleasure. His tongue flickered over what was left of the ear he had bitten years before, a cruel reminder of his vicious temper.

High off the mixed emotions wrestling through her, her hands came alive. She quickly unfastened his pants and searched for his manhood. Oooo, I got it, baby. I got it for you, see? she whispered as she yanked tenderly back and forth, bringing forth his raging hard-on.

His knees bucked, but he gathered himself. The fact that she had taken control angered him, and he grabbed her hand from his member and twisted her arm. An inch more and he would have surely broken it. With blazing speed, he pushed her over a nearby lounge table and ripped away her panties. She cried out, but he was no longer sympathetic. He let go of her arm in time for Bee to stop her face from hitting the surface and jammed his penis inside her.

As he took hold of her hair and forced her head to raise high, she opened her mouth to release the tension building in her stomach. She didn’t know whether to enjoy it or fight it, and when she was about to choose, he spoke.

I want you to go back to the Stone’s place tonight.

But, baby, she cried, trying to fight the request. He banged harder, hurting her now.

You finished talkin’? Huh? he asked her, pushing away the hand she attempted to push him off with. She gritted her teeth as he continued. You ain’t gotta fuck him this time, just pick up my bread. Besides, he’ll probably be in some pussy already. He slowed his ramming to a smooth pump and released her hair. When he smacked her leg with his belt, she came hard, forcing her ass hard against his thighs.

If that nigga wanna shit on you before he lets you leave, you let him, but do not leave without that money, Benita. You hearin’ me, girl?

She loved when he called her that. It made her feel like he cared. Yesss, baby, oh god, yesss, she cried.

She was shaking with pleasure, loving how he made her feel. He pumped once more and pulled out of her. She lay still as he took what was left of her panties and cleaned himself of her juices.

When he was finished and was placing his belt in its proper place, JP slid open the balcony door hard! Benita Renee Bradshaw! Is there no respect left in you for me?

She stood and hid her nakedness behind Lonnie.

Come on, nigga. You knew I was fucking her. Stop with the daddy’s little girl shit. I take care of her now, remember? Lonnie said, shoving him aside and leaving Bee exposed as he walked back inside the apartment. You still owe me, old man. Let’s not forget that.

Lonnie looked at Bee and chuckled. You need to remember what I said. Clean up and get yo’ fine ass on down there to that spot. He blew her a kiss and walked out.

She blushed uncontrollably, forgetting her father was present. He reminded her. Benita! Cover yourself goddamit! Is that all you are? All you wanna be?

She tried to walk off, but this was her father, a man whom she needed to need her. It was all she’d ever known. He grabbed her, and she jerked away. All I am? You wanna know somethin’, Daddy? You chose this for me. Not me, you! You sold me, Daddy, she cried.

Okay, here we go again. Blame everybody but yourself. You’re just like your mother, always pointing fingers! he yelled. Cover yourself dammit!

The world seemed to stand still—it was so quiet. Bee laughed wickedly and walked slowly, playfully toward him. He turned his head to avoid looking upon his child’s nakedness.

No, you didn’t just blame your shitty life on my mother. She slapped his face. You make me sick, Daddy! You killed her. You killed me. All you do, with your dope, with your diseased, germ-infested life is kill! My momma died tryin’ to rush to pick up your paycheck cause you were somewhere locked up for this same nigga you sold my soul to. How can you fix yo’ mouth to say anything? And you know the sad part about it? I love his ass. I love him beatin’ me, fuckin’ me, and I really enjoy the fact that he owns your rotten soul.

He backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. He crouched over her curled up body and yelled into her face, You chose, not me! You should have left me there to die at his hands! He smacked at her hands as they sheltered her from another attack. You think I wanted this? he screamed.

She kicked at him, forcing him back. He waved her off and walked away.

It was quiet in the apartment for the next few hours. JP didn’t even get high. He took his medicine and fell asleep in front of the TV. Bee had done as Lonnie told her and made herself look ready for the evening. She stood in front of the mirror. When she smiled, her dimples blessed her face, bringing her mother’s features pouring from within her.

That’s it, she thought. That’s the face I need to see right now, my momma. Whenever she saw her mother’s face, she was full of strength, of courage. In fact, that’s who she was when she was able to be in control. But it was never enough to stop her from seeing who she really was. All she knew was that whatever and whenever bad things happened to her, she was her. Not able to change any of it.

She walked over to her bed and put on the jeans and halter top she laid out earlier, then sat and slipped on her stilettos. She loved the way they made her appear taller. And plus, it turned her johns on to see her pedicured toes. She looked at herself once more and whispered, Happy birthday, bitch, then left.

Chapter Two

Friend or Foe

On the ride to see the man most women dreaded, all sorts of thoughts cluttered Bee’s mind. But she still managed to sit comfortably in the back seat of the bootleg cab with her head resting against the cool leather of its headrest. She smiled as the sounds of soft jazz caressed her ears. The lights from all of the storefront lights cast shadows inside the car. And it sort of reminded her of the times her mother would take the lampshade with its holes in it and spin it around, causing a disco-light effect in her room. She smiled and glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock, it read, and she closed her eyes and recited Psalms 23 from the Bible. It was chilly outside for August, but the breeze flowing through the window felt good.

We’re here, ma’am, said the driver of the bootleg cab. As Bee passed him the fare, he tried to be polite by telling her to be careful in the part of town she was in.

Mind yo’ business. I gotta daddy at home, she snapped. She got out and slammed the car door. The spot was right in the heart of the west end. Linn Street was packed with cars blasting music through the neighborhood as people waited to get in the house joint. Everybody called it Duke’s place, but many knew it was a cover for Stones. Bee quickly made her way through the crowd and up to the door. The huge doorman acknowledged her and summoned her forward.

Where’s he at? she hollered, trying to be heard over the loud music. He pointed, and she headed for the back.

Good weed smoke clouded the room as she headed up the hall. When she got to the stairs, she reached in her purse and took hold of her pocketknife. It was like her guardian angel. And since she had it for so many years, she felt really comfortable