Read Online The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story by Ashley Antoinette - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ashley Antoinette
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direction.
“Fuck!” Khi-P yelled as he was grazed by a shot. “This no-aim-having-ass nigga!” he yelled as his nostrils flared in anger. He couldn’t believe that he had been hit. In all his time hustling, he had never been shot, and it put a slight bruise on his enormous ego.
Gunshots rang out loudly as the men exchanged fire, and Chase leaned against the living room wall to avoid being hit. Bullets chipped away at the wall around him. They had clipped every hustler in the house, but this last man standing was not going down without a fight. He was reckless, and his gun was spitting hollows nonstop.
Counting the shots in his head, Chase waited patiently. He knew that every shooter would eventually need to reload, and when he heard the pause he was waiting for…
BOOM!
Chase bent the corner and found his target, hitting him in the leg and dropping him to the ground instantly.
When Indie heard the firing cease, he stepped out of the car and cautiously looked around before proceeding into the house. He walked down an aisle of bodies as he followed the massacre up the stairs to his awaiting crew. Chase and Khi-P stood over the bleeding man, and they both turned to Indie as soon as he entered the room.
“What do you want to do with him?” Khi-P asked.
“I just want to talk to him. Help him up,” Indie replied as he grabbed a rickety wooden chair out of the corner and pulled it up to the bed. He waited patiently as they lifted the dude to his feet and then shoved him down on the bed. Not one for disorder and chaos, Indie sat down across from the guy. Emotionless and unreadable, he gave away no sense of his inner instability. Visibly shaken and trembling from the wound to the leg, the guy watched as Indie studied him.
“I’m not here for you, but you know how to get in contact with who I’m looking for. Who do you work for?” Indie asked.
“Fuck you, ol’ pussy-ass nigga,” the hustler responded with bravado.
With no time for games, Indie was unimpressed by the show of loyalty. He sighed with deep distress. “This can go two ways, my man. The easy way…” Indie paused for emphasis as he stared the young thug in the eye, penetrating his hard shell.
Out of nowhere, Indie hauled off and smacked fire from the dude. The butt of Indie’s snub nose pistol broke the bones in his jaw.
“Or my way,” Indie finished as he sat back and watched the man before him writhe in pain.
“Fuck, man! Fuck type of shit you on? I don’t know nothing,” the hustler stammered as blood spewed from his mouth.
Indie didn’t hesitate to put a hollow tip through his uninjured leg.
“Aghh!”
“You don’t got no more legs left. The next one going through your head,” Indie warned as he wrapped his finger around the trigger and put the barrel of the gun directly against the temple of the man’s head.
Fear captivated the man as urine ran down his leg. “W–w–wait,” the guy stammered nervously.
Indie removed the gun and waited for the man to speak.
“I’ll talk, man. What do you want to know?” he asked.
“My daughter…a baby girl. What do you know about a kidnapping?” Indie asked.
“I don’t know nothing about no kidnapping. We ain’t even on no shit like that. I swear, man,” the guy pleaded.
Indie jabbed the gun hard into his temple, an unspoken threat that the hustler was trying his patience.
“I swear! I swear! Minnie ain’t ordered no kidnappings. We were here to settle the beef with you for killing Duke. I don’t know shit about snatching no kids!”
The desperation in his voice revealed the truth in the words he spoke, and Indie withdrew his pistol. He had gotten a name. Minnie was who he needed to see, and by leaving the hustler alive, he knew that Minnie would come looking for him.
“Tell Minnie that Indie is looking for him and that it would be in his best interest to holla at me immediately,” Indie stated.
Indie and his crew retreated, leaving the bleeding young man
“Fuck!” Khi-P yelled as he was grazed by a shot. “This no-aim-having-ass nigga!” he yelled as his nostrils flared in anger. He couldn’t believe that he had been hit. In all his time hustling, he had never been shot, and it put a slight bruise on his enormous ego.
Gunshots rang out loudly as the men exchanged fire, and Chase leaned against the living room wall to avoid being hit. Bullets chipped away at the wall around him. They had clipped every hustler in the house, but this last man standing was not going down without a fight. He was reckless, and his gun was spitting hollows nonstop.
Counting the shots in his head, Chase waited patiently. He knew that every shooter would eventually need to reload, and when he heard the pause he was waiting for…
BOOM!
Chase bent the corner and found his target, hitting him in the leg and dropping him to the ground instantly.
When Indie heard the firing cease, he stepped out of the car and cautiously looked around before proceeding into the house. He walked down an aisle of bodies as he followed the massacre up the stairs to his awaiting crew. Chase and Khi-P stood over the bleeding man, and they both turned to Indie as soon as he entered the room.
“What do you want to do with him?” Khi-P asked.
“I just want to talk to him. Help him up,” Indie replied as he grabbed a rickety wooden chair out of the corner and pulled it up to the bed. He waited patiently as they lifted the dude to his feet and then shoved him down on the bed. Not one for disorder and chaos, Indie sat down across from the guy. Emotionless and unreadable, he gave away no sense of his inner instability. Visibly shaken and trembling from the wound to the leg, the guy watched as Indie studied him.
“I’m not here for you, but you know how to get in contact with who I’m looking for. Who do you work for?” Indie asked.
“Fuck you, ol’ pussy-ass nigga,” the hustler responded with bravado.
With no time for games, Indie was unimpressed by the show of loyalty. He sighed with deep distress. “This can go two ways, my man. The easy way…” Indie paused for emphasis as he stared the young thug in the eye, penetrating his hard shell.
Out of nowhere, Indie hauled off and smacked fire from the dude. The butt of Indie’s snub nose pistol broke the bones in his jaw.
“Or my way,” Indie finished as he sat back and watched the man before him writhe in pain.
“Fuck, man! Fuck type of shit you on? I don’t know nothing,” the hustler stammered as blood spewed from his mouth.
Indie didn’t hesitate to put a hollow tip through his uninjured leg.
“Aghh!”
“You don’t got no more legs left. The next one going through your head,” Indie warned as he wrapped his finger around the trigger and put the barrel of the gun directly against the temple of the man’s head.
Fear captivated the man as urine ran down his leg. “W–w–wait,” the guy stammered nervously.
Indie removed the gun and waited for the man to speak.
“I’ll talk, man. What do you want to know?” he asked.
“My daughter…a baby girl. What do you know about a kidnapping?” Indie asked.
“I don’t know nothing about no kidnapping. We ain’t even on no shit like that. I swear, man,” the guy pleaded.
Indie jabbed the gun hard into his temple, an unspoken threat that the hustler was trying his patience.
“I swear! I swear! Minnie ain’t ordered no kidnappings. We were here to settle the beef with you for killing Duke. I don’t know shit about snatching no kids!”
The desperation in his voice revealed the truth in the words he spoke, and Indie withdrew his pistol. He had gotten a name. Minnie was who he needed to see, and by leaving the hustler alive, he knew that Minnie would come looking for him.
“Tell Minnie that Indie is looking for him and that it would be in his best interest to holla at me immediately,” Indie stated.
Indie and his crew retreated, leaving the bleeding young man
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