𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐍 & 𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐋

| 006| 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 ⁘ ฺ ⸝⸝⸝⸝

𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙣

Blood oozed from an open wound on an unlucky patron's side. He was sitting in a pool of his own blood, clinging to life. The owner of the club continued to waste the time that he did have left. Lesane Santana was only two years older than me. He was thirty-three years old. Babylon was given to him by the widow of the previous owner, whom he worked for. His uncle Shakur, I didn't particularly care for him. Ironically, I had just seen blood leak from him not too long ago. Lucia was blowing my phone up about it.

"Did you find that bitch who was crying about calling the cops?" Lesane questioned one of the bouncers. The tallest and heaviest of the roster. He looked to be the oldest, too. He cleared out the club and had his guards confiscate phones. The only people left in the club were me and my affiliates, Dove, Cuervo, and members of his clique. I was so drunk and high that I still couldn't piece together all that happened. I just remember pushing and shoving, then threats, and somebody pulled a gun out. An innocent man was hit with a stray bullet.

"Yes, we took her phone, but what are we going to do with him?" He nodded towards the victim who was dripping with sweat and blood. He was a light skin black man who was starting to look pale, and his eyelids were tremendously heavy like he could no longer hold them open. "We're going to get the bullet out. The fuck you think we gon' do? Sit here and watch him die?" Lesane rolled his sleeves up like he was preparing for surgery.

"You're going to do it yourself?" He asked for clarification. Lesane shot him a death stare that silenced him. "You about to get fired for asking stupid questions. Dead ass. Fuck is you talking 'bout? Yeah. I'm a take it out. I did it to myself plenty of times" He dropped to his knees at the man's side, examining the wound carefully. "It's deep in there because I don't see it. Aye" He slapped him to wake him up. The man's eyes grew wide and alert. "Fair warning, my nigga. This shit about to hurt you way more than it's going to hurt me" He was handed a bottle of tequila from a nice-looking bottle girl. Lesane doused the hole with it, seemingly to cleanse the wound. "Ah!" His screams made everyone cringe except for me.

"I'm going to be sick" Dove clung to my arm. I ignored her, my gaze filled with morbid fascination. The way the blood and alcohol were blended together was aesthetically pleasing to me. I couldn't look away. "Shoot him up with morphine" A smaller henchman ran into a backroom to do as he was told. The victim looked fearful at the mention of the medicinal drug. "W-why do I need that? Can't I just have a blunt or something for the pain?" Lesane blinked his eyes twice, then dug two fingers inside of his wound just a tad, and the man yelled at the top of his lungs. "Can you just have a blunt or something?" He mocked, relieving him afterward.

"I know what the fuck I'm doing, my nigga. Morphine is going to make this easier for you" The short guy returned with multiple syringes. He searched each arm for the perfect vein before inserting the first needle. I watched the man's face relax then fall unconscious. He was in dreamland. They made sure of it by overdosing him, sticking him again as he lied there, asleep on the floor. "He's knocked out" He announced, as if we didn't have 20/20 vision. Lesane nodded then went to work on finding the bullet.