muhfuckin naw,” Scrilla Man said. “We gon’ handle all this shit first, lil bruh.”
Back to back, we returned to Kisha’s house.
~Chapter 28~
A warm stream of urine snaked its way around Kisha’s right thigh, wetting the side of her dress. She was sobbing uncontrollably in the dark confines of the trunk, asking herself a thousand questions.
‘How long have I been in here? Where are they taking me? Shit, did anybody even see what happened?’
“God, please don’t let them kill me,” she cried. “Lord Jesus, please save me. I know I’ve done a lot of sinning, but don’t let me die today. I’ll change. I swear I’ll change right now.”
She yelped as the car hit a bump. Something hard and sharp hit her forehead. Ignoring the painful stinging sensation, she reached up and curled her fingers around the object.
A crowbar?
Yes, it definitely was a crowbar.
She grabbed it and was just about to try prying the trunk open when she remembered seeing a pair of assault rifles before the gunman had slammed the trunk shut.
**********
“We need to hurry up and get dat bitch out the trunk. She back there wit’ dem cho ppas,” Treys said.
“Boy, don’t start gettin’ on my damn nerves. We’re almost there. Shut the hell up and let me drive,” Cresha snapped.
Lacresha was aggravated for a number of reasons. For one, she was almost flat broke; and for two, she was now being hounded by a homicide detective that had already visited the strip club where she danced twice. Evidently, the family of the man James killed during last week’s botched robbery attempt had pointed Cresha out of a photo lineup, identifying her as James’ accomplice; which meant that she was now on the run for murder.
‘I ain’t goin’ to no damn jail,’ she thought to herself as she turned into the alley behind her Aunt Crystal’s Laramie Avenue home.
She reversed into Crystal’s garage and parked. She got out and closed the garage door, then walked around to the trunk with Treys on her left and Two-One on the right side of her. Grinding her teeth, she pressed a button on the Bentley’s remote key, and the trunk popped open.
Cresha gasped as Kisha raised the AR-15 and squeezed the trigger.
~Chapter 29~
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Kisha’s mouth dropped open in shock.
The assault rifle was empty.
The gunman that had forced her into the trunk swung a pistol at her face, knocking her out cold.
When she came to, she was being duct-taped to a chair in what looked like somebody’s basement. Her left eye was completely swollen shut. Blood was skating down the side of her face.
Standing in front of her was Lacresha Radcliff.
Cresha uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips.
“Bitch you gon’ do me like this?” Kisha asked, in shock.
“Don’t take it personal. My brother is dead because of your punk ass boyfriend. Now all I want is the money he took from Mone.” Cresha dug in her purse and pulled out a flip phone. “What’s his number?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t fuckin’ play wit’ me, Kisha. I’ll slit your throat as quick as I sliced up Deshell at the club that night. Try me if you want to.”
Kisha shuddered as she envisioned a knife cutting through her neck. She kept her eye on Cresha.
“I’m not lying, Cre. I don’t remember his number. It’s programmed into my—”
One of the dread-headed gunmen slapped Kisha across the face before she could finish her sentence.
“Let her talk, you dumbass!” Cresha snapped.
Kisha tasted blood. “I left my phone at home. His number is in my phone,” she said.
“Well,” Cresha said, flipping open the cheap camera phone, “what’s your number then?”
~Chapter 30~
Kisha’s smartphone was ringing when we walked through the door. I snatched it up and answered it.
“Who is this?”
“If I’m not mistaken, I’m the girl you pushed into Mone’s bedroom before you and your friend blew
Back to back, we returned to Kisha’s house.
~Chapter 28~
A warm stream of urine snaked its way around Kisha’s right thigh, wetting the side of her dress. She was sobbing uncontrollably in the dark confines of the trunk, asking herself a thousand questions.
‘How long have I been in here? Where are they taking me? Shit, did anybody even see what happened?’
“God, please don’t let them kill me,” she cried. “Lord Jesus, please save me. I know I’ve done a lot of sinning, but don’t let me die today. I’ll change. I swear I’ll change right now.”
She yelped as the car hit a bump. Something hard and sharp hit her forehead. Ignoring the painful stinging sensation, she reached up and curled her fingers around the object.
A crowbar?
Yes, it definitely was a crowbar.
She grabbed it and was just about to try prying the trunk open when she remembered seeing a pair of assault rifles before the gunman had slammed the trunk shut.
**********
“We need to hurry up and get dat bitch out the trunk. She back there wit’ dem cho ppas,” Treys said.
“Boy, don’t start gettin’ on my damn nerves. We’re almost there. Shut the hell up and let me drive,” Cresha snapped.
Lacresha was aggravated for a number of reasons. For one, she was almost flat broke; and for two, she was now being hounded by a homicide detective that had already visited the strip club where she danced twice. Evidently, the family of the man James killed during last week’s botched robbery attempt had pointed Cresha out of a photo lineup, identifying her as James’ accomplice; which meant that she was now on the run for murder.
‘I ain’t goin’ to no damn jail,’ she thought to herself as she turned into the alley behind her Aunt Crystal’s Laramie Avenue home.
She reversed into Crystal’s garage and parked. She got out and closed the garage door, then walked around to the trunk with Treys on her left and Two-One on the right side of her. Grinding her teeth, she pressed a button on the Bentley’s remote key, and the trunk popped open.
Cresha gasped as Kisha raised the AR-15 and squeezed the trigger.
~Chapter 29~
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Kisha’s mouth dropped open in shock.
The assault rifle was empty.
The gunman that had forced her into the trunk swung a pistol at her face, knocking her out cold.
When she came to, she was being duct-taped to a chair in what looked like somebody’s basement. Her left eye was completely swollen shut. Blood was skating down the side of her face.
Standing in front of her was Lacresha Radcliff.
Cresha uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips.
“Bitch you gon’ do me like this?” Kisha asked, in shock.
“Don’t take it personal. My brother is dead because of your punk ass boyfriend. Now all I want is the money he took from Mone.” Cresha dug in her purse and pulled out a flip phone. “What’s his number?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t fuckin’ play wit’ me, Kisha. I’ll slit your throat as quick as I sliced up Deshell at the club that night. Try me if you want to.”
Kisha shuddered as she envisioned a knife cutting through her neck. She kept her eye on Cresha.
“I’m not lying, Cre. I don’t remember his number. It’s programmed into my—”
One of the dread-headed gunmen slapped Kisha across the face before she could finish her sentence.
“Let her talk, you dumbass!” Cresha snapped.
Kisha tasted blood. “I left my phone at home. His number is in my phone,” she said.
“Well,” Cresha said, flipping open the cheap camera phone, “what’s your number then?”
~Chapter 30~
Kisha’s smartphone was ringing when we walked through the door. I snatched it up and answered it.
“Who is this?”
“If I’m not mistaken, I’m the girl you pushed into Mone’s bedroom before you and your friend blew
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