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I stared at the man tied up in the chair, his face covered in sweat and tears as he begged for his life. The sound of his shaky voice grated on my nerves, but it was the fear in his eyes that made me smile.
"Why the fuck do niggas keep playing with me, man?" I said, pacing back and forth, trying to keep my anger in check.
I turned my head slightly, looking over my shoulder at Baka, who stood against the wall, his arms crossed and his face unreadable. He shook his head and looked down.
"Niggas think I'm pussy, huh?" I asked, more to myself than anyone else, as I spun back around to face the man. His sobbing was loud now, like he thought I'd show mercy if he cried hard enough.
I stepped closer, towering over him, my voice sharp. "Where is Dre? Huh? Stop all that crying and talk!"
The man's words came out jumbled and incoherent, his head jerking back as he sputtered something about not knowing. I clenched my jaw, my fists tightening at my sides.
Two years.
Two years of pain.
Two years of digging deeper into the streets, searching for answers. Two years of bodies dropping, of nights spent looking for any clue, any lead that could give me peace.
And still, nothing.
"Stop lying to me, man," I muttered, grabbing a chair and sitting directly in front of him. I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees, my glare cutting through his soul. "I don't got time for games. You know something. Start talking before I make you regret every second you been breathing."
My patience wearing thinner by the second.
I wasn't letting this go.
Not until I had answers. Not until I made every single one of them pay for what they did.
"So you just gonna keep crying like a little bitch, huh?" I said, standing up slowly and shaking my head. His sobs got louder, "Bet."
I chuckled low to myself, pulling the Glock from my waistband. The click of the magazine as I reloaded it echoed in the room, making him flinch.
"Look at you," I said, smirking as I examined the weapon in my hand. "Pleading and begging like that's gonna save you. You think I'm dumb? You think I don't know you know something?"
"N-no, man, I swear! I don't know nothing!" he stuttered, tears streaming down his face.
I raised an eyebrow and let out a dry laugh, shaking my head again. "That's your story, huh?" I leaned in close, my voice dropping low. "Last chance. Where. Is. Dre?"
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except shaky breaths and more tears. I sighed deeply, stepping back and chuckling again.
"Alright," I said, the edge in my voice sharper now. "Guess we doing this the hard way."
