Natural Born Hustler (BOOK 4)

Chapter Forty-Seven -- Set Up

"Look at that ass!"

Ignoring the comments, I began my journey down the prison's isles. Cells on both sides of me held men of all ages and race. The only thing they all had in common was their all-white prison clothes. 

Trying to look normal is the hardest thing for me right now as hundreds of eyes watch my every move. I've never liked too much attention and I am the center of it here.

"You made it," Gucci, a prisoner and a friend, shockingly said when I met up with him in the east hallway.

"Yeah," I confirmed the obvious, looking back and forth for any nosey visitors.

"Don't worry, remember I told you, nobody comes on this end."

I looked up at his tall fame, "I remember, I'm just checking. How's everything?"

"Everything's going smooth. The guys should be done showering in about two more minutes," he scratched the back of his neck, "You sure I can't stick around to watch? I've been wanting to throw hands with that bitch-ass nigga since he's been here."

"No, Gucci you know how it goes; the fewer the better. I can't take no chances."

He nodded in understanding. "You right, you right," he looked down at his cheap watch, "time is money. You better get around there, the CO's do everything prompt."

I reached in my uniform's pocket, pulling out seven hundred bills before handing them to him. "Thanks, Gucci."

He smiled, his gold, top teeth on full display, "No problem. When ever you need me you know where to find me. Hell, I'an going no where!"

I couldn't help laughing, leaving to turn corner after corner, making my way to the shower room.

Standing behind the last corner, I raised my wrist to check my watch; twenty seconds to go.

Men wrapped in dingy, white towels below their waist began to file out of the steamy room in a line. I counted each head, careful not to miss a thing as Officer Miles, the last one to come out of the room, hollered over his shoulder, "You clean up that room good, you hear, Gumbo? I want it spotless in there, boy!"

He pulled the metal door up, close enough to not lock the door. "Lazy niggers," he mumbled, following the line of toweled men.

I came from behind the wall as Erik, who was on the opposite side wall, did the same. Our eyes connected for a split second, him searching mine for fear and me just looking into his. He always looked distant on the 'job', like "Erik" wasn't even there anymore.

I gave him a head nod of confirmation before I quickly pushed open the door with our worst enemy behind it.

It's now or never.

Gumbo, on his knees, scrubbing the hell out of the room's tiled wall jumped in surprise when he heard the door locking echo in the room.

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, dropping the bucket of soaped water. "K-Karly... how? What?"

"Confused? Surprised? Which one is it?" I asked him, grinning from ear to ear, "You tripping over your words like a motherfucker, baby."

He grew angry, "How the fuck did you get in here!"

Erik spoke up, "With the help from a few loyal friends that owe me a couple favors."

When Gumbo realized his words were replaying back to him, his face dropped.

"Why so sad, Gumbo? Not the way you envisioned your death?" I toyed with him.

"Fuck you!" he spat, "After all I've done for you, you turn on me for this nigga? I gave you everything, you ungrateful, hood-rat bitch!"

His words stung because the truth hurts. He gave me the car, the expensive clothes, condo, everything, but what Gumbo didn't give me was love. And that's priceless.

"Gumbo, I don't owe you anything. I appreciate what you did, really, I do. But what you did is what any nigga with dollars could've did too."

"Bitch, please," he scoffed, "didn't nobody want your dusty ass but me. I put you on!"

"Well, isn't it a shame the same bitch you put on is the same bitch that's about to take you out," I said sarcastically, going for the gun in my belt.

"Karly, wait--"

"Oh, I'm Karly, now?" I said, raising the gun.

Suddenly, the shower room's ceiling came crashing down in both corners, tile falling down to the floor. Men in black clothing came dropping from the roof like roaches, every last one of them strapped.

What the hell?, my thoughts rung out in my head as I aimed my gun at the black figures.

"Put your hands up!" they hollered, aiming their weapons at Erik and I.

"Damn," I muttered, raising my arms.

What the hell are we going to do?

THE END

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A / N :

Booo, you want more, right?

The BAD news is, this is the end of Natural Born Hustler :-(

The GOOD news is, A Hustler's Mistress is already uploaded! :-)

I want to thank everybody who commented on the "Debate on NBH." I promise, without y'all there would be no Chapter Forty-Seven in the book or A Hustler's Mistress.

You all thoughts and feelings mean the most to me! Foreal.

When I say I've been putting in work... I'VE BEEN PUTTING IN WORK! A chapter and a new book in one day?

I'm the shit, I know it. lol.  :)

Before you head over to AHM, show this chapter some love to, please.

And as always, Thanks for reading and Happy Easter!