Alibi Read Online Free Page B

problems.
    “You gonna rub them for me?”
    Is this bitch serious?
he thought to himself, looking at her, pretending to wear a smile. But he dare not say it. “Of course, baby, of course. You
     know I got you, Dais. Anything you need, you just let me know.”
    Really, I ain’t heard no nigga talk like him in all my life. Anything I need, just let him know.
“Well, right now, all I need is a hot bath, something to eat, and my feet rubbed down.”
    “Baby, come on, I’m gonna get you something to eat and we going to the Inn of the Dove and you can take a hot bath in one
     of them Jacuzzis and I’ll rub on your feet.”
    “For real, you gonna do all that?”
    “Yup, but I need you to do something for me,” he said as he thought of the unfortunate situation he had somehow managed to
     get himself into, all because of Nard’s dumb ass.
He should’ve let them motherfuckers have the fucking coke, what the fuck? Simon Shuller could count that shit up as a loss.
And he really felt that serious about it. Truth was, he was supposed to be there that night looking out. Had he been there,
     on his job, Jeremy and Lance would never have made it through the bathroom window, Poncho wouldn’t be dead, and Nard wouldn’t
     need no alibi. And Simon Shuller wouldn’t be telling him to fix the problem or else.
    “So, what you need me to do.”
    “Well, it’s like this, my man, he done got caught up in a little situation, you feel me. And right now, we got to help him
     out.”
    “Help him out, how?”
    “Well, he needs someone to say that he was with them, that you saw him at the bar and he was in there with you. I just need
     you to tell an investigator for me that he was at the bar in the Honey Dipper and you remember him there all night. I’ll pay
     you one thousand dollars if you can do that for me.”
    “One thousand dollars?” Daisy screeched.
    “Make it two,” said Sticks.
    “Two thousand dollars? That’s a lot of money, Sticks.”
    “Yeah, I know, I really need you to do that for me, though.”
    Not seeing the forest for the trees, Daisy agreed. She needed the money, bad. Two thousand dollars—she barely made that in
     a month working for Calvin at the Honey Dipper. All that dancing and everything else she had to do, you would think she was
     making good money. But she wasn’t. Calvin was too greedy and too narcissistic. He thought he was the main man on top of the
     pimp and ho game. And truth be told, he was. He had them girls right where he wanted them, bent over. The funny thing was,
     he never touched the girls that worked in the club. He’d sometimes call them into his office individually and look them over
     as they stood naked in front of him. Everybody had to pass his “better be sweet” smell test. If he fingered you and you wasn’t
     smelling right, he’d send you over to Dr. Nelson’s office. But, no, no, no, he never touched them with his penis. Well, actually,
     every now and then he might be in the spirit of desiring sexual pleasure, but for the most part, his penis was a little too
     good for a whore to even suck on. Seriously, to him, his penis was special, so special that he wasn’t passing his wiener around.
     And when he thought about it, he didn’t understand how men slept around with a bunch of women. No, that just wasn’t his style
     and yes, he was a pimp or at least he thought so. No, in his crazy mind, his job was to merely sit back and watch his girls
     get fucked and then fuck them out their money; that was Calvin Stringer.
    The next morning, after a night of sexual bliss, Sticks and Daisy left the Inn of the Dove. Sticks promised her that the investigator
     would be calling her that day, and after she spoke to him, she’d be two thousand dollars richer. Daisy couldn’t wait. She
     had plans, big plans for that extra two grand.
    “Momma, come on, I need you to put on one of your overcoats,” said Daisy as she rushed around the apartment trying to make
     it