Gangster Squirrel Novels & Stories

“Names.” I leaned back, arms crossing. “Aight. You want the street names or you want the government?” He didn’t even roll his eyes, pen poised. “Street names first,” I muttered. “Aight… the first dude is Snakebite. He’s in Waller Penitentiary in Mexico.” Quincy wrote it down neatly, the kind of handwriting that belonged to people who still believed notebooks were sacred objects. “The second one’s Jag,” I continued. “He got transferred to Eastwood Federal in London.”

He was the kind of man they could probably describe as villains in a novel. “His name is Scarlett. In the Mafia world, he goes by Jax. Notorious drug dealer and a serial killer, his existence in the crime world had being a pain in the ass since we got no substantial evidence against”. Douglas tapped the red light. “This is where he’ll be tonight. His private club. Tight security, but tonight he’s only bringing a few men. We need to apprehend him.” Alex frowned. “But how, sir?. We got no evidence on him. And if we do he’s not going down without a fight”.

Good. I squeeze harder. "Now,” I say, leaning in, “you will tell me what I need to know about those attackers.” I squeeze. "And what they want with Sara?" "They're the wolf gang," he immediately spits out, barely breathing, "They're gangster. They steal, they loot, they kidnap, they collect taxes from us, Name it. They deal in everything illegal." "And what does it have to do with Sara," I ask, something wicked flashing in my eyes, "Why they don't kidnap me? Why her?"

"Let's go say hello." They walked into the main square. The chatter died down instantly. A hundred pairs of eyes locked onto them. A hundred hands drifted towards holsters. "Jack Sterling," a voice rasped. A massive man stepped out from a stall selling dried lizards. He was at least seven feet tall, with skin like tanned leather and teeth filed into points. He held a machete the size of a surfboard. "The Crocodile," Finch whispered into the comms earpiece. "Infamous tracker from the Nile Delta. He eats his targets."

Mary licked my cock and her friend’s leaking asshole clean. “Beep! Buzz! Beep! Buzz!” My phone started going crazy on the floor. Gigi grabbed my jeans, pulled it out, and answered. “Hello! The pizza boy’s phone. Who is this? Pizza Shack? Mr. Luigi! Where’s your pizza boy? Let me complain first. Every time me and my friend order from you, you fuck it up. We asked for extra sausage and you sent cheese pizza. Listen up, Jones helped us out. We’re holding him hostage, you pizza cock sucker. Fuck you! He quits your fucking pizza place. You guys suck balls. Good night!” Gigi yelled, then hung up.

Zack’s body trembled, then came back to his senses and immediately grabbed Quinn’s hand. “Zack! What are you doing?!” Quinn had a bad temper at that moment as well. Zack furiously glared at Quinn, then bowed while he nodded. “Master… Master Niner… Why are you here?” ‘Master Niner?’ ‘Old Niner? ‘The man that looked like a peasant worker is actually the famous gang boss in Buckwood that Zack mentioned. Old Niner?’ Quinn was shocked beyond belief.

After showing him around, the gangster sat with him and said, "Let's have a bottle of beer." "Oh no, I'm not in the mood," Ian replied. "What does that mean?" the gangster asked. "Well, my baby mama will throw a fit if I go home drunk." "Oh, I see. The person I want to introduce you to is yet to arrive." After a while, a man wearing black goggles eventually arrived and sat at the table with them. "This is Spider," the gangster said to Ian, "and he understands the business very well." Turning to the man he said, "he wants to meet Helium.

I realized, the hope returning to my voice. "Exactly," Xavier said, standing up and walking around the desk. He stopped just inches from my chair, looming over me. The scent of his cologne dark musk and cedar clouded my senses. "But men like Sterling don't flip for money. They flip for fear. He’s currently at an underground gambling den in the Diamond District. He thinks he’s safe there."

Somehow I could tell he felt just as nervous as I did through the slight tremble of his hand. I could recognize some of the faces that stared at me. Garry who we all called "Roach King” smiled at me with a level of familiarity in his eyes. He was the last person I wanted to recognize me. He had gotten the nickname because of his knack for capturing cockroaches, naming them, and keeping the damned things as pets. Pets! I turned away from his gaze and headed for the bowl of punch. Derrick moved towards where the guys gathered having a discussion. "Anya?”

I try to get up from the table, but the mobster stops me. “I need you in this business, love—espabilo—, Erick, I need you to arm some bombs for Gian Lucas's whorehouse; love, you will be my bait, I need you to seduce the new boss in charge of the place. Italian asshole stole my merchandise and I want it back.” He wants to bring down the night club with them inside. Damn son of a bitch! ********