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K Y D R I C "KILLA" MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE TWO DAYS LATER FIVE-THIRTY am
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Kendrick had officially lost his mind. At this point, you couldn't convince me otherwise. I'd never heard him so angry and dead set on rockin' a nigga to sleep. He was damn near foaming at the mouth, barking about how he wanted revenge on Harlem. The shit was just crazy to me. Although he'd eased up off the liquor some, I still caught him downing a bottle every now and then, and I knew he was in no condition to be going into war. I tried to talk some sense into him, but he wasn't trying to hear it. It felt so different being in this position. Back in the day, I was the hot head, always ready for whatever— but ever since those bullets struck my face, it was like I was looking at things in a new light. Now I was trying to keep Kendrick in line, instead of the other way around like it used to be.
"H-Hey, man. You got sumn for me?" This crack fiend walked up to me in a hurry, scratching his neck. He had on clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in years and the stench coming from his body should've been illegal.
"Yo, you better back yo ass up." I lifted the bottom of my hoodie, flashing the handgun in my jeans and he quickly halted his steps.
"I'm just tryna get somethin' off you, young blood. I only got eighty dollars on me— I swiped it from the church basket the other day." He pulled a few crumpled bills from his dirt stained pants. "This should at least get me a couple ounces."
I shook my head at him saying that he'd stolen money from the church just to feed his habit. "Look, I'll give you a gram. That's it."
"A gram?!" His eyes popped out of his head. "Come on, man! I should get way more than that for eighty dollars!"
"Look, either you take this gram or you take yo ass somewhere else."
His wrinkled face frowned up and he seemed upset over what I'd offered. However, I could see that he was contemplating it. He fidgeted for a few moments, before finally handing the cash over to me, just like I knew he would. He was just that desperate for a high. I grabbed a small white baggie from my jacket pocket and flicked it at him. He damn near dove onto the concrete to catch it before it hit the pavement. I pulled my fitted cap down, making my way up the street as he began digging into the bag.
