Sexy Little Liar by Noire Page B

my lower back snapped back in place. I rolled over and fell off the bed, landing hard on the floor at his feet. That idiot dug deep into my ribs with the thick toe of his boot and barked on me again.
    â€œWhere’s the fuckin’ safe, bitch?”
    â€œUnder the bed,” I squeaked and wiped a dribble of blood off my chin. “I’m getting it, Punchie, damn ! I’m getting it!”
    I scooted forward on my knees and crawled halfway under the bed, wishing like hell my ass had a loaded gat stashed under there. I woulda cocked that shit and fired right through the raggedy foldout cot and blasted Punchie’s monkey-ass straight to hell!
    But instead, I pulled out the small safe that Gutta had left with me before he got knocked. Now that it was almost empty it wasn’t all that heavy, and it had a round dial on the front that I fumbled with in the darkness.
    â€œI can’t fuckin’ see,” I complained as blood trickled from the gash he’d opened up in my hairline and dripped into my eye.
    I heard him move toward the doorway where the light switch was, and flip it up and down a couple of times.
    â€œYo wuttup with the goddamn lights?” he demanded when they didn’t come on.
    â€œThey cut off. We ain’t paid the bill yet.”
    â€œTrifling bitches!” Punchie cursed in the darkness. “You mean y’all three bitches got two stank pussies and one hairy asshole farting up in here and can’t nobody turn enough tricks to keep the lights on?” I heard him snort with contempt. “Skank-ass gorillas! Last week you and Bunni was cruising around in a limo flossin’ like you was fly. And this week your shit is cut off and you walking around in the dark! Stupid bitches!”
    Punchie stuck his gun down in his pants and pulled out his cell phone. He clicked on a flashlight app and then crouched down beside me and pointed the beam at the safe’s silver dial. “Spin that shit,” he demanded as he pulled his gat out again and pressed the tip right under my ear. I glanced up and saw the outline of his face in the cell phone’s back glow. Sweat dripped from his chin and craziness darkened his eyes. “You got ten seconds, bitch, or I’ma start poppin’. Get it open.”
    My hands was sweating like a mutha as I turned the dial nervously. Numbers had never been my thing, and right now I was so damn shook I could barely remember my own name.
    Twenty-one to the right, thirteen to the left, and eighty-seven back to the right, I spun.
    Nah, hold up, I corrected myself. It was twelve, thirty-one, seventy-eight. I jiggled the handle.
    That shit didn’t work either.
    â€œBiiitch . . .” Punchie growled.
    Thirteen, seventy—eight, twenty—one!
    I heard a click and the shit popped open!
    I reached inside the safe and closed my hand around the small stack of crisp bills. I knew better than to let Punchie peep the last of my stash, so I skimmed two grand off the top and held it up in the air for him to see.
    â€œHere, goddammit!” I shouted. “Two racks! This all I got left! Y’all niggas done already beat me outta a gwap! So take it, niggah! Take it and get the fuck outta here, Punchie!”
    At first I thought I had shut his ass down with my little two grand in cash, but there was an evil glint glistening in Punchie’s eyes as he pointed his flashlight, crooked his neck, and tried to swing his eyeballs all up inside Gutta’s safe.
    â€œYo, what else you got up in there, girl?”
    â€œNone a’ ya damn bizz!” I snapped and tried to slam the door real fast, but Punchie’s greedy hands were much quicker than mine. He reached out and swatted the safe and tipped it over, sending the last little bit of my cash scattering out on the floor.
    For a split second we both froze.
    And then we dove. Me first, and then Punchie’s big ass landed right on my back.
    â€œGet the fuck offa me!”