Sam goes undercover with hopes to take down the notorious drug lord, Mercedes Jones.
I agreed to do it because I was selfish. I thought being a snitch for a few weeks beat years in jail for theft. I saw it as a way to get my charges dropped. I had nothing much to lose.
Detectives had their sights on one person, and they were going to use me to bring them down. They weren't going to do anything that would put me at risk, so no recording, but they had created a plan. When I agreed, the detectives arranged for me to be placed in a halfway house with a popular drug dealer.
Noah "Puck" Puckerman followed the rules of the house, but he couldn't stay away from the lifestyle that got him in trouble. He sold drugs on the side. When he brought the idea to me, he promised big money. He said that I had to meet someone before I could start selling.
Mercedes was beautiful and had plenty of smarts. She had the sweetest sounding voice that kept people from seeing the danger they were walking into. Something that she didn't have was fear. Zero shame. All that was wrapped in the little package that was the biggest drug lord in the state.
Following Puck into the pool hall, I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the change in lightning. I saw her. I stood back and stayed quiet.
Mercedes was going to make a lasting impression. She passed in front of the pool table. She had a man right in front of her, but she talked to the man across the room. "Artie, how much does Tom owe me?" She silently nodded, taking in the large number that was thrown at her. She swung a tool in her hand, but as she got closer, it was easier to see that it was a hammer. She ordered the man across from her to put his hand on the table. "These are the same hands that took from me?"
Tom's hands were the only thing still about him. He shook in fear. "Mercedes, please." His begging did him no favors. When the hammer came down, he fell back, desperate to escape.
She knew what she was doing. She rounded the table to watch the man tremble at her feet. Her hammer swung over him like a pendulum. "You have two days to get me my money. Get a job, cross someone else, sell your ass- I don't care what you do. This hammer should be the least of your worries. We will find you."
He didn't move until he was dismissed by Mercedes. In a scramble, he rushed past me and Puck and out of the door. He didn't dare to look back.
Mercedes sat beside Artie. When she was ready for us, she signaled for us to join the table. "Got anything good for me, Puckerman?"
"That's a loaded question, Mama."
I answered every question Mercedes asked me. I was being myself, but I wasn't sure of all the mixed signals I was giving. I wanted to make her believe that I'd do anything she asked of me, but I didn't want her to think that I was afraid of her. I dropped a few jokes when the time seemed right.
"I like his confidence," Artie admitted.
She argued, "He's cocky."
They went back and forth as if I wasn't there. Artie thought I was worth a chance. Mercedes said no. They each had their own reasons to support their side. Minutes had passed before one had lightened up.
Artie was the closest worker to Mercedes. Because of his handicap, he wasn't on the street, but he was too smart for it anyway. He kept up with Mercedes' money. He knew better than she did sometimes. He knew who owed her how much and when was the money due. He knew that "a cheesy, unsuspecting, white guy," like me, would make money easily.
Mercedes decided on a test run. She disappeared from the table, and when she returned, she dropped a little bag in front of me. "I want to know how fast you can sell this." She pointed her finger at Puck, "If he screws up, I am coming for you." Before he could make a comeback, she shushed him.
I started with weed then grew to cocaine. I wasn't selling it. I gave the drugs to the detectives and got the money from them. I worked extremely hard to keep my secret from Puck and Mercedes.
Months into our deal, the detectives became more confident. They were closing in. They began to give me less money, and then they gave me none. They saw little reason to pay up, but they didn't know that they were toying with my life.
I was panicking; Artie knew I wasn't paying the full amount, but Mercedes knew when I stopped paying. When Puck noticed, I made up a story about being robbed by an unknown guy. I asked what should I do.
"Confess and say goodbye to your thumbs." He knew I couldn't do that. He went through a list of ways I could get the money before giving me the idea of seducing Mercedes. "It'll buy you some time."
"Would that really work?" I though Mercedes was too smart to be distracted by sex.
"It was just something me and her did, but I'm trying to help you,' he admitted. "You have three options. First choice, You tell Mercedes that you lost her money, and she breaks your hands. Two, you can do what I told you and get an extra week to get her money. Three, you do what I told you, and Mercedes cuts your dick off."
I didn't want to do Puck's plan at first. I was going to talk to her. I thought she would have been more understanding if I told her the robbery story. I was nervous when I got her alone at the bar.
She slammed the liquor bottle down and growled, "Wear a condom if you plan to fuck me over. If you got jumped then you must have been doing something stupid. I want the money you owe me… ALL OF IT." She sipped her drink as she had little interest in what I was saying to her. "Stay here."
I tensed in my seat as I watched her walk away. The last thing I wanted was for her to get the hammer. I chased after her. Catching her before she got to her office, I pull her close and held her tight. I go for her lips; they were soft. I could even taste the whiskey when my tongue entered her mouth.
When I was talking with Puck, I was given a list of rules- more like a list of things not to do. Don't do this. Don't do that. Don't kiss her too much: you're fucking, not making love. No foreplay because she thinks it's overrated. She likes it rough, but don't touch her hair. The biggest bummer to me was that I wasn't allowed to touch her boobs.
Although it was my least favorite rule, I was going to follow it. I turned her around, but her ass wasn't any less tempting. I rested her hand on the end of the pool table and yanked her leggings and panties to the floor. I was hard for her, and my dick twitched and throbbed at the thought of her. I took hold of her hips and pushed my member into her pussy. "God," I groaned.
She was warm and soft. Greedy to take me in, her walls stretch. Mercedes wanted sex just as bad as I did.
With each inch, I felt more and more pleasure. I began to thrust, fucking her nice and steady. In and out, in and out.
Mercedes was moaning within seconds. She filled the pool hall with her sounds of pleasure. "Deeper. Fill me with you cock." Her hips rocked to meet my thrusts. "Harder," she ordered.
I didn't need to be told twice. My grip on her became firm. My thrusts became wild and relentless. I looked down to watch Mercedes' ass bounce every time my pelvis crashed into her.
"Just like that. Sam, d-d-," she stuttered. She was filled with so much lust that she struggled with words. "Don't stop, Sam." Her cries flowed out of her, but my name did sound great when it fell from between her full lips.
"Say my name again."
"Earn it," she countered. Her breath hitched before she continued. "Make me scream your name."
As much as I hated to do so, I stepped back, letting my dick fall from Mercedes' warmth. I didn't want her to waste a breath to ask what was I doing. I worked quickly to free her ankles from her clothes. I lifted and placed her knee at the edge of the table. I reclaimed her, sure that the little change in position would allow me to give Mercedes what she wanted. I pounded her hard and fast. I was highly praised, and everything she did fueled me to continue.
Being with Mercedes was the most exciting thing I had ever done in my life. She wiped my mind of everything but her at that moment; I didn't think about what I owed her. She filled me with adrenaline and made my heart race. She could've been a drug herself.
She dropped her head and cursed under her breath. "Sam, I'm going-. Sam." She slapped her palm against the cloth table top. She squeezed my hand. She reached behind her and patted my torso. She wanted my attention. She wanted me to slow down, but I was lost in her. Climaxing, she called my name with a high pitched screech. "SAM!"
I stopped, allowing her to calm. My hands moved to wrap around her. I held the trembling woman until she had the strength to stand and push me away.
Mercedes was silent until she was redressed. She breathed and rested against the edge of the table. When I gave into temptation and stepped forward to steal another kiss from the beauty, she rejected me by saying, "You weren't that good." She took a minute to think of her offer. "Okay, I'll give you five extra days to get my money… And keep this to yourself. I don't want the other losers thinking they can do what they want and be forgiven if they can get into my pants."
I didn't need the five days.
Two days after Mercedes and I's hookup, the detectives raided the pool hall. They had spent months preparing and hoped for a big reward. They searched the building top to bottom. They found nothing- not a bag of weed, not a gram of cocaine, not an unlabeled bottle of pills. They only had my word against Mercedes… and Mercedes was plotting to take that.
The next morning, I was actually jumped outside of the halfway house. I couldn't fight off all the men. I had a bag put over my head, and my hands were cuffed. I was taken. When the bag was taken off my head, I was in line with more of Mercedes' newer dealers. I was shushed from speaking and shoved to my knees. I felt the tightness of the cuffs holding my hands behind me.
Mercedes appeared. She stared down at the group as she spun the cylinder of her revolver. She took her time before speaking. "I had an interesting night," she said; that was as close as she came to announce the raid. "I don't think that any of you understand what it means to work for me. I own you."
Santana spoke up from the end of the line. "Mercedes, why the hell are we here?"
"I don't want you here. I'd rather have you on the street, making me money," she admitted. "Who ever was behind what happened last night, speak now, and everyone else can go."
I wasn't going to speak up. I was not ready to die.
Mercedes took in the silence. She stated to the front of the line. "Tell me now, or it'll get really messy. I'll start with the porcelain doll and finish with Latina Barbie." She placed the muzzle of the gun against Kurt's temple. Over his whimpers, she asked the group, "Is anyone going to confess?"
More silence.
CLICK!
Kurt whimpered harder, realizing he wasn't killed. He bowed his head and hoped for the end.
She wasn't done with her sadistic game. She moved to the next person in line. "This bullet will come out eventually… then we'll start again. I want answers!"
CLICK!
CLICK!
"I did it!" I admit. "I ratted you out."
"Okay," she said as she slowly nodded her head. She didn't question me, but took my word. As she returned to the table to trade her weapon, she whispered to Puck.
He was her loyal follower, ready to do what he was told. He moved to stand over me. By the back of my shirt, he dragged me across the floor. He didn't slow as he felt me crawling and struggling to keep up. He threw me against the foot of the bar with a thud.
I quickly say straight. I regretted that I was ever tied into this. My heart was beating against my rib cage. I could only take short puffs of air in. I watched on with big eyes.
Mercedes squatted in front of me. "I'm not going to kill you," she promised. She revealed her knife by bringing it inches away from my nose. "You're pretty, but not that pretty."
The blade cut into my skin, causing me to cry out. It slowly sliced from under my eye to my chin. When it was moved, my red blood ran from the pointed tip to Mercedes' hand.
"Tell the law," she ordered, "better luck next time." She stood, letting my blood drip on her floor. She called for Puck to free me of my cuffs. She threw a rag at me, and I pressed it to my aching cheek. "Get out, and don't ever let me see you again."
I was one of many who had to live with the fear of Mercedes Jones.
Thanks for reading. I'm sure that you're tired of all the dark prompts. I want to do an apocalyptic two-shot, and then I'll give you all the happy shots I can think of- like puppies running freely through a field of flowers under a rainbow type of happy. This is what came to mind when I thought of the word "boss".
I did a boss prompt to push my new story Horrible Bosses.
