Vengeance Is Mine|MJ|COMPLETED

4|If You Die First, You Lose|

"You ready? A'ight, let's get it."

>•<

30 clip, drop his whip, whoa
And ain't no cheat codes,
got a lot of bullets, let's reload

July 7, 2018

Today marked three years since Alionna's fateful departure from earth. Her anniversary usually had Michael cooped inside of his home, phone set on Do Not Disturb, and wallowing in his grief. But today was much different. Instead of doing those things, he brought himself to Inglewood Park Cemetery earlier that morning, and had an hour long moment of silence with just himself and his deceased wife. He's shared a few expressions as though she could hear him, but he knew she could in some spiritual way and it was by the little things of nature like the wind blowing or a leaf from the tree falling onto his shoulder from it's limb.

He missed her dearly and wished she could be here with him in the flesh, but knew deep down inside, it was never destined to be the way he would want it to be. He has finally moved on and found the woman of  his dreams. And as a sign of approval from Alionna, the wind brushed up against his chiseled face once more as her way of saying to go on and be happy with his new found love. He deserves it. When he said his final goodbyes to her, he placed the bouquet of dandelions (her favorite flowers) over her vault, kissing the tips of his fingers and placing them on top of the warm cement. As he walked away, it felt as though it may be the last time he'd ever get to visit her gravesite again.

After his visitation, he and Yalayla found themselves at the Bank of America in downtown Los Angeles that afternoon and did what needed to be done. Collecting a total of twenty thousand in cash, they've managed to escape the scene yet barely got away. This time around, their chances of going unnoticed were now slim to none.

Michael and Yalayla then met up at Jernard's place to come to some solution to get rid of his car to keep the police off their tails. Prayerfully, the police didn't get the license plate number during the chaos in downtown and Jernard's homeboy Skeet came by and picked up the car-with the assistance of a partner of his-taking it to whatever location all the while loaning him the car he had driven over to the house in for Michael to use. Michael was appreciative for all he has done for him and let it be known before Skeet finally left for good.

Sitting in the living area of Jernard's home he shared with his family who were out visiting extended family, Michael pulls out his phone, checking the time which read 6:04p.m. on its screen.

"I have to meet this nigga in six more hours to give him this fuckin' money. Cordae has to hit me up when it's time so I'll know the location."

"Have you spoken to him since y'all left from Bank of America?" Jernard asked him, taking a pull from his blunt he rolled up mintues ago.

Michael shook his head. "Nah. I'm just waitin'. I guess he just gon' let me know somethin' when it's close to the time."

"So you hittin' up that rich man's crib again, huh?"

"Yeah. That's where Yaya gon' be at 'til I get this money to Slim Don."

Yalayla's face contorted in confusion hearing her man's response. "Wait. I thought I was comin' with you, Mike? That nigga may try some foul shit on you and you may need me there."

"Baby, I got this. Everything gon' go smooth. I promise you. He gets the money he wants, nobody dies tonight. Plain and simple."