Innocent 2

Leo Sullivan

Sujets

• Urban Books

Informations

• Publié par: Sullivan Group Publishing, LLC
• Date de parution: 27 novembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781946789532
• Langue: English

Extrait

© 2019 Leo Sullivan


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Any unauthorized reprint or use of the material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage without express permission by the author or publisher. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Contains explicit language & adult themes suitable for ages 16+ only.
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Contents



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Epilogue


Note From The Author

To Be Continued…

About the Author

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This book is dedicated to my mother Evette L. Sullivan R.I.P. I feel you walking with me everyday and the nights you visit me in my dreams. I can personally extol there's nothing on GOD's earth stronger than a mother's love. I miss you ma.
1
Tamara Jenkins… the night after

N early a year ago, when I was seventeen, I went on the internet and stole some chick’s identity. We shared the same first and last names. Using information like her age, educational background and prior work history, I applied for a lot of jobs. One of the jobs was at Barnes & Associates, a software company I’d discovered during a trip to Atlanta for the Atlanta Job Fair. To my surprise, I was chosen as one of the two qualifying applicants from a list of hundreds. I stayed at the plush Four Seasons Hotel, where I was set to be interviewed in person for the position.
Everything was all good, until I ventured out of my hotel room and went down to the lounge to have a drink. That’s when this fine brotha, Pharaoh Greene (P.G.), stepped into my path and into my life. He had a caramel complexion and shoulder length dreadlocks. He was six feet four inches tall with a shiny diamond grill in his mouth. His eyes were red from chiefing on good weed. Even his dress code was in line with what I was used to—gangsta. He was the only dude in the lounge not wearing a suit and tie.
I took Pharaoh to my room to smoke some trees and chill with him. What I didn’t know at the time was that he and my so-called girlfriend, Kanisha, had set me up. Together they sabotaged my potential job offer, causing me to not get the offer.
2

S tranded in Atlanta and broke as fuck, I ended up accepting a job for five grand a week working at Kanisha’s high society whorehouse. It was called M&M’s, better known as The Meat Market. Not too long after my arrival there, I found out all the exotic and beautiful women working at M&M’s were underage minors. Some of them were barely in their teens. They were all from impoverished countries and had been forced into prostitution.
I had a three-year-old son, Tyres, who meant the world to me. My mom, a recovering crack addict, was keeping him for me. She pressed me to get a job and come get my child. I couldn’t tell her that I was working at a whorehouse, so I kept it from her. Although I made a lot of money at M&M’s, I really did want something more stable and respectful for myself and my son.
As fate would have it, I got an offer from one of the jobs I applied for with all of my fake information. It was a good job with excellent health benefits, and I was the only person who showed up to be interviewed. The job was at an infamous men’s federal penitentiary—USP Atlanta. It was a gladiator school type of prison that averaged a killing at least once a week.
When I started working at the prison, I was surprised to discover that my baby daddy, Innocent, was there. He was on death row, set to have his ticket pulled for a horrible crime. The last time I had seen him was the day he abandoned me and his child, who was in my womb, so he could go off to pursue his own dreams. Through my anger and hurt, I had to forgive him. He was my child’s father. On top of that, I learned that he was not guilty of the crime he was about to be executed for.
Just last night, I bumped into Innocent’s twin brother, T.C., at M&M’s. He was nothing like Innocent. T.C. was a stone cold gangsta. Because we were always close, he warned me to leave M&M’s. Instead of taking him seriously, as I should have, I stayed. I even introduced him to a notorious drug lord, Haitian Bleu. I had fucked around with Bleu, got him sprung on my poonany and was trying to find a way to separate myself from him. He was possessive and scary as hell. I had personally watched a situation between his boys and Pharaoh’s boys that was more bloody than anything I had ever seen before. They were arch enemies, and it looked like Pharaoh had been killed when all of the gun smoke cleared. Little did I know; there was much more drama ahead for me, the M&M’s girls, Pharaoh, Innocent, T.C., Kanisha, Bleu and a lot of other people close to us. Many of us wouldn’t even survive. In the end, an old saying about what to expect in life would show itself to be true— expect the unexpected.
I had promised Bleu that I would spend some time with him that night at M&M’s. But when I was in my room, I was surprised by an unwanted guest who wanted to kill us both. He raped me, robbed me and made me agree to set up Bleu in exchange for my own life. He hid in the closet when Bleu came into the room. As Bleu ate my coochie, the guest stood with his gun aimed right at the back of his head. I was so scared of dying in that position, with a trick between my legs at a whorehouse, that I passed out.
3

B right and early the next morning, I awoke with a splitting headache. Bleu was sitting at the foot of my bed.
“Wuk up, luv!”
“Huh?” I groaned groggily with my head under the pillow. “What time is it?” I removed the pillow from my head. A beacon of sunlight shined through the window, electrocuting my eyeballs.
“One o’clock,” Bleu replied, kissing me on the lips.
I had a crusty ring of saliva on the side of my chin. My eyes were sore as my mind flashed back to last night. I prayed it was a bad nightmare. Sitting up in bed, I peered at the dresser. Fuck! My jewelry was gone. Slowly, I scrolled my eyes over to the closet. The door was wide open. Shit! My money was gone too. I wanted to break down and cry. Pharaoh, the unwanted guest from the night before, had taken everything.
Affectionately, Bleu kissed me again and squeezed my tit. He wanted to have sex. That was the last thing I wanted. For months Bleu’s sprung ass had been nagging me, begging me to be his ‘wumon.’ That’s why he bought me a ring, a Benz truck and other expensive things.
“Luv, yu nevah answer mi—”
“Bleu, for God sakes… Jesus Christ, not now. Can a bitch breathe?!” I snapped. Sensing my anger, he matched it with his own.
“Get dressed! Yu cummin’ wit’ mi.”
I thought about saying no. That day I just wanted to lie in bed and be left alone.
“Cume!” He snatched the covers off me.
Completely nude, I padded to the bathroom. All the while, in the back of my mind, intuitively, I knew Bleu was up to something. After I took a shower, I got dressed in a figure fitting, gold, Fendi dress with an audacious split that ran all the way up my thigh. I put on my brown, four inch Jimmy Choo stiletto heels with the lace-up leather straps. I felt wack without my jewelry. At least I still had my gold crucifix chain around my neck.
Bleu took one look at me and smiled with satisfaction. Then with a skeptical scowl on his face, he asked me about the ring. I told him I had put it up for our special occasions. He liked that. I couldn’t tell him that Pharaoh had taken it. He didn’t even know Pharaoh was alive.
Downstairs in the spacious living room, Kanisha sat on the couch with an IV bottle connected to her arm, a thermometer in her mouth and an ice bag on her head. Kim Wu, the Korean girl, sat on the floor massaging her f