Page 7 of Bullet

"You did that and more," Crome stated and kissed Courtney on her red heart-shaped lips.

He'd been obsessed with the long-locs, curvy, brown-skinned beauty ever since she took over her family's printing business two years ago. If you needed anything to be printed, her family, the Prices, made it happen. They specialized in many different forms of printing. We were lucky to have a contract with her. I slipped into my new vest and smirked. The smell of leather filled my nose, and the new cut against my body was way better than my first vest. I'd had the same vest since I joined when I was twenty. Now that I was twenty-nine, I was much bigger than I was, and my brothers now. They hated that shit, but oh well. Two blanks were fired, and it was racing time. We held big races twice a month for money, street cred, and respect. As of right now, my brother, Black, holds the title of King of Decatur. He was the fastest motorcyclist out here. I didn't desire to hold that title. I just enjoyed racing.

I slowly rode over to the start line. Candy Apple stood there with her midnight complexion shining under the moonlight and thick curves to keep everyone's eyes on her except mine. Over four and a half years later, I still hadn't laid a finger on her or allowed her to touch me. She'd been my Crystal's nemesis since high school. I never believed in allowing another bitch to play in my girl's face. Crystal and I weren't together, but if and when I decided to move on, it wouldn't be with her ass. I was loyal to the bone.

My bike tire stopped at the sprayed finish line, and I looked at Crystal's brother Marshawn and then back at my destination.

Marshawn was fast, but he wasn't faster than me. I revved my bike, and he followed suit.

Candy Apple stood in front of us and sexily licked her top glossed lip. "You ready, boys?"

"Yeah," he answered.

I nodded my confirmation.

She grinned before raising her red scarf in the air. Her eyes glanced at him and then at me before she hurriedly lowered her arm.

Marshawn and I shot off within seconds. My tire edged forward, followed by his. We took turns being in the front as we headed down the dark road. He made it to the end a few seconds before I did. We swiftly turned around and headed back to the start line. We were halfway to the finish line when that nigga kicked my bike twice, and I swerved badly, causing me to almost crash into a group of bikers, but I quickly regained my composure. Oh, that bitch ass nigga. I had something for his ass. We continued to race until I focused back on my destination and hit the accelerator. I flew past him and the crowd of onlookers until I soared over the finish line.

Everyone cheered and raised their beer bottles. I'd won two stacks and his lid, but I didn't want his ugly ass helmet. I wanted my fuckin' revenge. I swiftly turned my bike around and headed back. My rage had built inside of me, and I was out for blood.

I turned off my bike and parked it when I saw him drinking with a few members of his crew. He thought shit was sweet. I pulled my biker gloves up as I strolled through their crowd and popped Marshawn right in his nose. Blood sprayed from his nose like a spray bottle. I didn't even give him a chance to recuperate. He stumbled, and I uppercut his goofy ass. Marshawn's bitch ass dropped to the group. His crew tried to jump me, but that shit didn't last. I popped two in the nose and gave a two-piece combo to three of his cronies. They all whined and groaned on the ground as I stood over them.

"I guess next time you'll rethink cheating when racing against me." I spat on them and walked away. "Bitch ass niggas." I climbed on my bike and headed home. I'd let my brothers collect my winnings. I had no patience for clown shit no more.

When I pulled up to my house minutes later, Diamond sat on my front porch swing. Her curvy frame and shapely ass were slightly wrapped by her favorite throw blanket as she waited on me. It wasn't cold out. Diamond was just always cold. Her long braids were pulled in a high bun, and her light complexion looked slightly flushed. She wore a glove-tight one-piece, leopard print catsuit that made my dick harder than a rock. I hoped she knew she'd get dicked down tonight.

Diamond was known as a "choker" in our motorcycle club. Women like her filled the sexual needs of the men in our crew. They weren't "ole ladies" or girlfriends, just someone to fill a lonely night or moment. She and a few other chokers had filled the bed in one of my guest rooms for the past two years. I'd let two years ago by before I started to fill my sexual needs. I just couldn't let Crystal go. There were no commitments on my end. One day I wanted to settle down again, but it wouldn't be with no damn Choker.

I walked past her and unlocked the door. She stood from her spot and walked behind me. In record time, we were in my guest room and ass naked. I gripped her throat tightly as I fucked her hard and fast. There was nothing gentle or loving about my strokes. I was pissed that I couldn't make love to the woman I still loved. There was no access to her at all. Love was completely absent from my life. Crystal had made me the lover boy that I am, and I hated not being him.

"Ooh. Fuck, Bulley. Right there, baby," Diamond cried out loud.

I stilled. "Don't call me Bulley. My name is Bullet to you. Am I clear?"

She nodded with a small smile. "Yes."

"Aight." I sped up my strokes.

Diamond loved this rough shit. Her small hand gripped my wrist as she enjoyed every stroke. Her body shook under me, andshe came hard like she always did. I fucked her harder until I came. Diamond fucked me from the bottom as I pushed against my headboard. My body shook slightly as I busted a big nut. We both took deep breaths as I rolled off her, and she rolled to the side.

I walked into the bathroom and, removed my condom, then flushed it. After a quick piss, I washed my hands before walking back into my room. Once I was comfortable under my covers, Diamond laid on my chest, and I gazed out the window.

Minutes later, her light snores filled my ears, but I continued to look out my bedroom window. I always wondered what Crystal was up to this time of night.Was she dating someone? Married? Had kids?I tried my hardest not to think negative thoughts, but I couldn't help it. I'd lose it if somebody else clapped the cheeks that belonged to me. Her smile, loud laughter, and caring nature all belonged to me. It was nights like this where we held our deepest conversations. I wanted her and our routines back like ASAP. God, I need a sign.

I listened to my pops, Josiah, explain how Razzi Inc. was interested in our weapons and ammunition, but they were also in talks with the Views. That didn't surprise me. Them savages jumped on any and everything that smelled like an opportunity. This up-and-coming new company had planned to open a few gun stores in several different states. He expressed how Razzi Inc. wanted to work with us because we were a one-stop shop. We made guns and ammunition, but they were interested in the Views because they offered them a cheaper rate. I hated when companies wanted to go the cheaper route. Quality would always be a better alternative than quantity. My family and I took gun-making seriously. Them cheap ass weapons the Views made were ass.

Their guns either jammed, fell apart, or misfired more often than usual. They were a joke in the gun-making business. I hated it when they joined the conferences with us and other weapon makers because they were clowns. The love for the craft wasn't there. It has never been if you asked me. My great-grandfather Sigman made his first gun when he was fifteen years old from materials and scraps he'd found at the junkyard he worked at. When he killed the man who attacked my great-grandmother coming home from school one day, it was then his love for weapon making was birthed. He tried to share that knowledge with his best friend, Raleigh, Crystal's great-grandfather. Things went south when Raleigh scammed him and started his own company. There was more to the story, but I think the rest of the story was lost as time went by and family added their own narratives.

It was unfortunate because I really wanted to know what happened. Somebody had to know, but my great-grandpa and grandpa were both gone, and my pops didn't have all the facts. He didn't care to know. My pops' only concern was keeping our business running smoothly and making sure our legacy continued for generations.

"Bullet!" my pops shouted my name, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Yeah, Pops."

"Did you hear anything I said?" he queried.

"Yes, sir. We have a meeting with the CEOs of Razzi Inc., and this is the account you want me to handle."

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