eventually fell over onto his lap in a drunken sleep.
As she snoozed on the living room couch, Smurf watched her and felt a pain in his heart. He hated to be hard on his mother, but she didnât seem to want it any other way. He promised himself that heâd help her get out of her rut. He wanted to help her more than anything, but he had to help himself first. After staring at her for a few more moments, Smurf slid from underneath her and headed to bed.
Smurf couldnât think straight. He sat up all night in bed staring, holding, polishing, and aiming his new piece. Sunday he damn near did the same thing. The gun was like a new puppy. He couldnât wait to get out of school Monday afternoon to go home and let it out to piss. He daydreamed all day long in school, thinking about putting one through Buckâs head. After school he did his homework, ate dinner, and prepared to skip out of the house when his mother went to sleep. Time was of the essence.
Smurf had itched to get at the nigga all weekend, but he decided to wait until Monday, when he thought Buck would more likely be working. Dressed in all black, he tucked his pistol in the front pocket of his hoodie. When he peeked into the living room, there his mother was, drunk and asleep on the couch in the same spot she had been for the past two days. Smurf walked over to her, kissed her on the forehead, and dipped out.
He boarded the Number 2 train and rode it all the way downtownto Wall Street. He had the jitters the entire ride. He thought about turning back, but his conscience wouldnât let him. Buck had violated his home and family. According to the laws of the jungle, he had to be handled.
Finally at his destination, Smurf jogged up the subway stairs, making sure to hold his piece so it wouldnât fall out. Once outside, the night air greeted him. The cool wind against his face was just what he needed. It didnât take him long to locate the construction site. It was the only one on the block. Smurf walked past it, but he made sure to stay on the opposite side of the street. As far as he could see, there was one entrance in the front and another one where deliveries were made on the side. He decided that the latter would be his point of entry.
Smurf crept to a side window and tried to get a good look into the structure. Through the dirty glass, he could see Buck sitting behind a desk watching a small television. As far as Smurf could tell, he was alone. He could climb right through the window and blow his fuckinâ brains out without worrying about witnesses, but there was an alarm on the door. Something he hadnât counted on; quick-witted, he thought of a way to use it to his advantage. He pushed against the door, setting the alarm off, and waited.
Within seconds, Buck poked his fat head out the door to investigate. His skin turned stark white at the sight of a pistol pointed at his dome. Smurf smiled at the big man, who looked as if he was about to pass out.
âBack yoâ fat ass up,â Smurf ordered. Buck nodded and did as he was told. Smurf followed him through the door and secured it behind them. âGuess the tables have turned, huh?â
Buck tried to keep a straight face as he nodded, but his kneeswouldnât stop shaking. Heâd gotten a thrill out of savagely fucking Gloria and kicking the shit out of her kid, but now he would give anything to change the past.
âListen, boy,â Buck pleaded. âI know youâre angry, butââ
âShut the fuck up!â Smurf ordered. âYou donât know how I feel, so donât say another fuckinâ word. You ainât so muthafuckinâ tough now, is you?â Smurf asked with an insane-looking grin. âYou felt like a big man when you was hittinâ on a woman and a kid, but now you ainât shit . . . fuckinâ coward. Why you ainât poppinâ that shit now?â
âI didnât mean it,â Buck said,
As she snoozed on the living room couch, Smurf watched her and felt a pain in his heart. He hated to be hard on his mother, but she didnât seem to want it any other way. He promised himself that heâd help her get out of her rut. He wanted to help her more than anything, but he had to help himself first. After staring at her for a few more moments, Smurf slid from underneath her and headed to bed.
Smurf couldnât think straight. He sat up all night in bed staring, holding, polishing, and aiming his new piece. Sunday he damn near did the same thing. The gun was like a new puppy. He couldnât wait to get out of school Monday afternoon to go home and let it out to piss. He daydreamed all day long in school, thinking about putting one through Buckâs head. After school he did his homework, ate dinner, and prepared to skip out of the house when his mother went to sleep. Time was of the essence.
Smurf had itched to get at the nigga all weekend, but he decided to wait until Monday, when he thought Buck would more likely be working. Dressed in all black, he tucked his pistol in the front pocket of his hoodie. When he peeked into the living room, there his mother was, drunk and asleep on the couch in the same spot she had been for the past two days. Smurf walked over to her, kissed her on the forehead, and dipped out.
He boarded the Number 2 train and rode it all the way downtownto Wall Street. He had the jitters the entire ride. He thought about turning back, but his conscience wouldnât let him. Buck had violated his home and family. According to the laws of the jungle, he had to be handled.
Finally at his destination, Smurf jogged up the subway stairs, making sure to hold his piece so it wouldnât fall out. Once outside, the night air greeted him. The cool wind against his face was just what he needed. It didnât take him long to locate the construction site. It was the only one on the block. Smurf walked past it, but he made sure to stay on the opposite side of the street. As far as he could see, there was one entrance in the front and another one where deliveries were made on the side. He decided that the latter would be his point of entry.
Smurf crept to a side window and tried to get a good look into the structure. Through the dirty glass, he could see Buck sitting behind a desk watching a small television. As far as Smurf could tell, he was alone. He could climb right through the window and blow his fuckinâ brains out without worrying about witnesses, but there was an alarm on the door. Something he hadnât counted on; quick-witted, he thought of a way to use it to his advantage. He pushed against the door, setting the alarm off, and waited.
Within seconds, Buck poked his fat head out the door to investigate. His skin turned stark white at the sight of a pistol pointed at his dome. Smurf smiled at the big man, who looked as if he was about to pass out.
âBack yoâ fat ass up,â Smurf ordered. Buck nodded and did as he was told. Smurf followed him through the door and secured it behind them. âGuess the tables have turned, huh?â
Buck tried to keep a straight face as he nodded, but his kneeswouldnât stop shaking. Heâd gotten a thrill out of savagely fucking Gloria and kicking the shit out of her kid, but now he would give anything to change the past.
âListen, boy,â Buck pleaded. âI know youâre angry, butââ
âShut the fuck up!â Smurf ordered. âYou donât know how I feel, so donât say another fuckinâ word. You ainât so muthafuckinâ tough now, is you?â Smurf asked with an insane-looking grin. âYou felt like a big man when you was hittinâ on a woman and a kid, but now you ainât shit . . . fuckinâ coward. Why you ainât poppinâ that shit now?â
âI didnât mean it,â Buck said,
Similar Books
