Pursuing The Plug 2 Read online

  Standing back to his full height he gave her a wide grin. “I’m sure you will figure out the paperwork correct?” The tone of her voice insinuated that she was telling him he needed to figure it out and ensuring him that there was no other option but figuring it out. Either way Hampsher needed him to make something shake. The sooner he did it the better for her. She felt no need to look anywhere else; where they stood was perfect.

  Enthusiastic head nods were given as he lifted the bag on his shoulder. Hampsher walked closer to him, slowly causing him to pause. When her breasts were inches from grazing his chest she stopped to look up at him.

  “I’m no fool. I know I’ve paid you double what these properties are worth, but it’s because I believe in your ability to get shit done. I haven’t been misled right?” He shook his head lacking the willpower to cast his eyes away from her mesmerizing features. “Good, because I’d hate to have to come looking for you. I can tell you now it’ll be take more than just the cash.” Hampsher’s threat couldn’t be missed but her voice sounded so much like singing that it never registered to the realtor that he could be in danger. Hampsher knew she had him exactly where she wanted him with her charm.

  Feeling satisfied with his response, Hampsher extinguished their closeness and motioned him out the door all in one swift movement. From the other side of the door she heard him holler that he would be in touch and without a doubt she knew he would be. Not because he took her threat seriously, but more so because he wanted to fuck her. Hampsher felt it the second he saw her and it only grew the more time they were around each other.

  Placing the box with her sacred memories down, along with her violin case, Hampsher surveyed the area. There wasn’t much of anything to see which she didn’t mind. She truly needed only a place to sleep and bathe in the evenings. Other than those moments at the end of her days, she planned to be on go. Hampsher knew there was so much to do with what seemed to be so little time.

  Hampsher made her way near the large windows that lined the far wall. The sun was soon to set casting an array of colors across the vast sky. Taken aback by the extravagant view Hampsher held herself contemplating everything that needed to be done. With no interest in furnishing the place she was thankful for the scarce furniture that’d been left by a previous tenant. Hampsher wanted her life to be as simple and painless as possible. Only supplying energy to the tasks that mattered most.

  With her eyes cast below Hampsher watched the realtor leave out the building with the duffle tossed over his shoulder. His strides were long and confident in a way that made her center come to a boil. Hampsher smirked at her thoughts as she admired him until he’d sped off down the street. Alone as she usually was, Hampsher felt the familiarity of having her own space to weep, mourn and think creep into her bones. Surprisingly it didn’t make her cry when her thoughts drifted over to her mother. It was her norm.

  Without those thoughts she felt lost and cold; two feelings she need not possess in a new city with new people who didn’t think twice about the lives they were ruining when they were on their bullshit. Hampsher had to close herself off. She had to be prepared for the unexpected and embrace her end that would surely come now than later. Hampsher smiled knowing she’d finally reached her breaking point with sitting around. It was time to make it happen so she would.

  With her hand extended on the lock Hampsher applied just enough pressure to push the door open. A cool breeze wafted through the open invitation to fill the space with new air. It’d grown damp inside being abandoned for so long. Although Hampsher felt sad it didn’t seem necessary to also inject her space with the same energy. She didn’t have much, but she desired to still have her sanity.

  Hampsher made herself busy exploring the apartment. She found herself growing an attachment to it because she too was the forgotten one. Her thoughts drifted to her grandparents as she wondered how they felt now that she’d gone. Did the departing of her depressive state relieve them of their duties? Were they free now to live for them?

  Hampsher knew without a doubt they loved her and would’ve allowed her a place in their home until the end, but it just didn’t feel right. They tried their best to cater to her. While she appreciated the effort she felt as if none of it mattered. She was happy to rid them of her. It only encouraged her to do more. She wanted to make them proud. She wanted them to know that they hadn’t failed her. They gave her the perfect mixture of love and distance for Hampsher to find a safe place to reside. Leaving was the best choice for herself and her grandparents.

  As she returned to the living room Hampsher’s eyes landed on her belongings. The first stop she made was at the box where she positioned herself on the floor to rummage around inside. With a heavy heart Hampsher sifted through smiling photos. She paused on one of her mother’s bulging belly. Running her fingers across the space she filled, Hampsher felt more connected to her mother than she had in years. The next picture she paused to analyze was one taken a day or two before the home invasion that inevitably claimed the apple of her eye. She knew her life would’ve turned out differently had she not been robbed of her mother’s loving presence. The shell of a person that she’d become was all thanks to someone deeming it necessary to come into their home and make them suffer. It just so happened that Hampsher was the only one to truly suffer.

  Blood began to coil and rush through her veins as her internal temperature increased by what seemed a thousand degrees. The taste of copper filled her mouth and she shook. Hampsher welcomed the anger that filled her right before tossing the photos aside and standing to her feet. She’d become the embodiment of an angry black woman. With her target in mind Hampsher checked the time before deciding that it was time to go. She didn’t want to wait a moment longer due to her desire to inflict the pain she felt on someone else.

  Her walk to her destination did nothing for the rage that’d spent years bottled up inside. With no clue on how to release it Hampsher’s steps quickened and quickened until she halted. Glancing upward she studied the stacked building in front of her. The street was busy with people coming and going. None of them cared enough to take heed of the curious woman.

  Hampsher nodded her head once then spun around to retrace her steps. She calculated the time it took from start to finish so by the time she made it home she had an exact estimate of the time she needed to become face to face with what she was quickly convinced was her destiny.

  Hampsher rose with the first rays of the sun. She’d picked up items necessary for tackling her hygiene so a shower was where she began. While the hot water beat her skin like she stole something Hampsher planned her morning. What little nerves she had evaporated with the steam, quickly filing the area just outside the shower. There was no need to be nervous or afraid. Everything would work itself out.

  Dressing plainly in black leggings, a solid black t-shirt, flat thigh high boots and a black duster, Hampsher tossed her wild mane up into a ponytail. She admired how serious she looked with her pulled away from her face. She made the mental decision to always pull her hair back when it was time to be serious. Hampsher especially fell in love with the way her duster swept the floor surrounding her as she spun out the bathroom.

  Without a need to rush Hampsher gathered her keys and was out the door merely seconds later. Breakfast hadn’t crossed her mind as she quick-stepped down the nearly deserted streets. With it being so early there wasn’t nearly as many people out as it would be in the hours to come. Hampsher enjoyed not having to share the sidewalk with a rude New Yorker. She felt as if they moved like people didn’t exist. It’d taken everything in her to not punish someone for bumping into her just the day before. If the city taught nothing else, Hampsher was sure she’d be given a proper lesson on patience and self-control. It wouldn’t be wise to nearly murder every person that felt where they needed to be was more important than where she had to go.

  Hampsher propped herself up across the street from the massive building she’d approached yesterday. There had been lots of
traffic in and through there, but it wasn’t the building itself that she focused on. If you focused near the back and off to the side a staircase was camouflaged in plain sight. Hampsher was angled so she could see the secret passage way.

  The line Hampsher had thrown finally caught a bite. Though she’d been advised to not follow it because on the other end was a very huge fish, Hampsher threw caution to the wind. Underground lay the person she sought. Fear would get her no closer to achieving her goals. Casting it aside and facing opposition head on would. Like clockwork a blacked out Bentley rolled down the street. It turned on the side of the building and bypassed the staircase that Hampsher had been eyeballing. She paid it no mind that the car kept going because she knew the person inside would still end up in the same place she felt compelled to go.

  Hampsher remained in place until the car crept back from out of the cut. Only then did she discard the water bottle she’d snagged on her way out the door into the trash. Pressing forward she looked both ways before crossing the street. She was quick on her feet so she’d made it across the street and down the stairwell unnoticed.

  Hampsher placed her ear against the door. Behind the door was as still as Hampsher stood. With a smile she began to hijack the mechanics of the door the way she’d been instructed to until she was granted access inside. The morbid stench that was hidden behind the door caused Hampsher to inhale deeply before stepping inside.

  One would think the room was filled to the brim with dead bodies, however it was bare. It only reeked of death. Hampsher had been warned of this ahead of time yet she still felt unprepared. Apart from seeing her mother lie lifeless on the floor of her childhood home Hampsher had very little experience with death. She didn’t grasp the decomposition of the body after it became no longer in use. Ready to be rid of the stench, Hampsher moved quickly.

  A small light peered from underneath the door, however Hampsher traveled towards one that was diagonal to it. She rattled the handle before taking the lock out of place to open the door. The next room was pitch black making it impossible to see. After sealing off the room she’d come from behind her she pressed her back against the wall and shuffled sideways. Hampsher kept one hand stretched in front of the progress she made so that she could feel the handle of next door she needed to get through. Moving along the wall was easier and safer considering the darkness of the room and the fact that she was uncertain about what the room housed.

  Hampsher’s relief came out in a big exhale as she felt the coldness of the metal door knob. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of the dark but the quicker she was away the sooner she could bring her adventure to an end. Pausing to gain her bearings Hampsher waited until the low murmur of voices in the hallway passed before even considering making her leave. She’d made it too far to get caught now. Knowing that there were more people inside only made her move quicker once she entered the hallway.

  She could only make it to the turn in the narrow passageway before the sound of the voices returning echoed behind her. Hampsher cursed under her breath then dipped to the side. She pressed herself into the wall as if it would make her appear invisible. Hampsher also held her breath as if whoever was approaching had super hearing. She began to close her eyes but changed her mind. She didn’t want to miss a second of how it played out. It felt like forever before the big burly men passed the place she’d wedged herself between the pillar and the wall.

  Hampsher waited a little longer than emerged to finish her journey. As she walked she counted doors until the hallway led to one big set of double doors. Hampsher smirked as she went to the door on the right side of the double doors. She’d made it to the end and now things would get real.

  In quick and calculated movements Hampsher went into the room. It smelled of flowers and vanilla. There was a lit fireplace in the corner that Hampsher neared. She bent down in front of it to see the remnants of charred documents. Standing back to her feet she walked through taking in her surroundings. The room was somehow bare and full at the same time. There was nothing personal lying around like photos or trinkets, but a woman’s presence could be felt inside.

  Compelled to the huge mahogany desk Hampsher went to take a seat on the edge to wait. As planned her guest didn’t arrive until an hour later. Throughout her wait she never grew restless. She was too excited to set things in motion and make power plays. Her posture straightened as the door came open and flushed the room with light. The fire that’d been burning had long ago burned out so Hampsher had been waiting in the dark.

  A woman emerged through the doorway searching for the light switch. Unaware that anyone awaited her just beyond the doors she moved slowly. Hampsher admired her quality threads first. The Chanel suit she wore hugged her body in the places that men drooled over presenting a perfect canvas. Her hair was pinned perfectly in an intricate display of braids that wrapped upward into a bun. Intertwined in them were gold charms that sparkled underneath the dimness of the hallway light. Her diamonds couldn’t be missed as they danced just as enthusiastically. Milk chocolate skin and long legs located the light switch and filtered bright light in the room.

  Chita’s hand shot to her chest as she gasped one hundred percent in shock by her unwanted guest. For years the African goddess had maneuvered through business like a ghost. She was unreachable until now.

  Hampsher smiled widely, “Chita.” In no way was Hampsher’s tone sinister, but Chita knew better. After all the dirt she’d done over the years she’d be a fool to assume Hampsher’s presence to be friendly. She knew better. Her security was on the ground level handling business for her so at the moment she was all alone. She prayed that if Hampsher was there to kill her she would do it quickly. Chita hated a long drawn out execution. It was unnecessary and irked her nerves to the third degree.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Chita figured if she drew the conversation out long enough her security could return and put an end to the woman with the audacity to corner her.

  Hampsher rose to her feet feeling like she had the upper hand. She knew that due to Chita’s exclusivity that she was alone most of the time when she was in the underground business office. No one in their right mind would go down there knowing the horror stories that somehow made their way to the surface with the dead. If nothing else Hampsher was brave and Chita could only respect that. If her life was to be taken at least it would be by someone with heart.

  With a smile Hampsher analyzed Chita from head to toe. She admired the woman in front of her. Respected her too. She’d heard her name multiple times during her investigative stage. Hampsher had been warned multiple times to steer clear and it only intensified her desire to meet with the woman who stood before her. Getting to her was supposed to be impossible yet there Hampsher stood with the most light in her eyes than any year since her mother’s untimely demise.

  Chita saw a darkness in Hampsher that she recognized. If she was just an average person filtering through life she would’ve missed it. Hampsher’s dark side was buried deep. She wasn’t one of those people where you looked at her and knew they were the people that you heard horror stories about because they go bump in the night. No, Hampsher was pretty. Beautiful even. Chita just had the ability to see what lie underneath her blemish free buttery skin. Chills ran down Chita’s spine, but not because she was afraid.

  What she saw when she looked at Hampsher was potential. She grew curious about the woman that looked her in the eyes without a care in the world. The fact that she wasn’t afraid nor intimidated intrigued Chita. For years she’d been known to break even the toughest men down. There were times where she even looked down on them as they begged for mercy on bended knee. Hampsher was different. It was the only reason Chita was even concerned about her presence in the first place.

  “Hello? Why are you here?” Chita questioned growing irritated with the silence. Her mind raced as Hampsher picked up one of the specially crafted samurai swords she’d been gifted from a man she did business with. Just off Hampsher’s for
m alone she knew she was unfamiliar with holding a sword in hand. “Do you know what to do with a sword of that caliber little girl?”

  Hampsher studied the blade of the sword. It had intricate designs engraved that made it unique. She fell in love with beauty of it. “Do you?” Hampsher questioned without looking up from her admiring of the blade.

  “Of course,” Chita laughed. “I’ve been known to carve out hearts with that sword so please be careful. It’s very dear to me.”

  Hampsher smirked as she dropped her arm to the side and closed the distance between her and Chita. She felt the power radiating off her. She wanted it. Hampsher could bet her last dollar that had Chita been her when those men stormed her childhood home that she wouldn’t hide. She would know exactly what to do to make those men regret the decision to follow their orders. Hampsher wanted to feel like that. No, she needed it just as much as she needed oxygen to breathe.

  “What do you want from me?”

  Closing the last of the space she stared Chita directly in her eyes. Chita’s body stiffened as Hampsher lifted the hand that held the blade, but instead of shoving it straight through Chita’s body, she placed it in her hand and said, “I want you to teach me how to be a killer.”

  Chapter One

  It was an uncannily gloomy day. Possibly, the gloomiest day of them all. Every nook and every cranny inside of the Jones’ residence was plagued with silence. At any given second, a needle could be heard if it was to drop. No words had been spoken in –not in the last twenty-four hours. There was a thick sheet of despondency that covered each fold of the enormous home and wrapped each body with threats of suffocation.