Bankroll Squad by David Weaver Page A

keys.
Malcolm kissed her on the cheek and left her house, looking for the nearest Flower and Gift shop so that he could get Kyla something nice while she was in the hospital. He was going to nurture her spirit to good health, because he knew that the spirit would eventually ... nurture the body. And once her body was nurtured back to health, he was going to nurture their relationship until it was completely repaired.
    nine
    A
    s soon as Coward 1 and Jennifer arrived at the hotel the previous night, Coward 1 realized that he had bit off more than he could possibly
    chew. After two hours of sex, he was thoroughly exhausted, but Jennifer was still full of energy. When he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with her drug induced sexual marathon, he decided to snort some of the cocaine that she was sniffing. He had done coke before, but it wasn’t his drug of preference because it was so difficult for him to come down off of the high. He preferred the almighty X-pill over everything. Until he tried Jen’s coke. He snorted half of a line and immediately stopped because he thought that a drug this powerful must be either one of two things ... either mixed with something else or just completely PURE. It burned his nose as if he had just snorted rubbing alcohol, but that small side effect was nothing compared to the immense high that he was experiencing. He did the rest of the line, and after a few minutes they took more X-pills. They had marathon sex all night. They took a nap at 7 a.m., and at 9:30 a.m., they were both laying in the hotel bed staring at the ceiling wide-eyed. Reality had set in on both of them. Jennifer Powers’ reality was that she was now a slut ... a groupie ... something that she had never been because she had done something she’d never done. She’d cheated. She had officially violated the sacred sanctity of her marriage. Malcolm’s words ran through her body like a laxative.
    “I loved you since day one, and I’ll continue to love you until the day that the love that I give you is not returned.”
    She lay there knowing that yesterday was the day that she didn’t return her husband’s love. After sending him all those text messages, he tried to call her once, and she sent that call directly to voice mail. He sent her a text message that she didn’t even read. She looked at the sender and quickly replied: FUCK U. She got out of the bed and went to get her purse. She turned on her cell phone and viewed the text that she didn’t read. Her legs wobbled when she read the message. It said: DO U LUV UR HUSBAND? A deep sense of regret flushed her heart as she slowly walked into the bathroom to take a shower. She regretted going out, she regretted cheating, she regretted doing drugs. She had turned her life into a nightmare. She turned on the water and got into the shower. Coward 1’s reality was that he was a nothing. He was not a rich actor, hell, he was a robber. He shot people out of fear, and robbed people out of greed. He was worthless to society, but he felt good because he didn’t slave for anyone. He made his own way and he aspired to be rich like his Uncle Brandon. His Uncle had encountered a similar situation back in his day. He’d run upon a beautiful girl that the top drug dealer in the city trusted. The dealer paid her to rent upscale homes in the suburbs so that he could stash large amounts of cocaine in them. Uncle Brandon won the girl’s heart and the girl told him about everything. He convinced her to get him a key to the house and then they would be able to move to Paris in about a week and be filthy rich, never having to look back again or worry about a thing. This appealed to the woman greatly, who had two small kids, and didn’t want to continue having the stash house rented in her name once she saw the amount of drugs it held. She gave Uncle Brandon a key and his squad of goons retrieved 300 kilos. 100 feet long, the Coward thought as he lay down plotting.