Dire Lust 2 [Book 2]

Seven

August

"So what you think about my guy?"

I didn't really think much about Jared, one of Ace's guys that he wanted to put on the block. I hadn't met him yet, but Ace said he wanted to help him.

"It ain't about what I think," I told him, glancing at him in the passenger seat. "He's yo guy. If you fucks with him, then I fucks with him. Long as he can move that product, I'm good."

"I'm sure he can. He from the hood. Won't be hard to teach him if it ain't in him already."

"Is that a jab, nigga?"

Ace chuckled as he lit his blunt. "Hell yeah."

"Whatever."

He was right though. I'd gone from a prettty boy to a street nigga with ease.

"You sure you don't want to get one of them young niggas to do this?"

I chuckled. "You?"

"Whatever, man. You know what I mean. The young boys amped up and ready for shit like this. We ain't gotta get out hands dirty."

Again, I chuckled, now with a bit of sarcasm. "I don't give a fuck. I'm always trigger happy."

"Aight boss, I got your back. Just making sure."

Truth be told, I was tired of innocent bloodshed. Teyanna's blood was more than enough.

I was gonna make Deuce's life a living Hell. I wanted to be right there, front and center, when the bodies dropped.

I thought I would have second thoughts. The move that Ace and I were about to pull was going to be the start of a war that could last until either Deuce or I was in the ground.

When we pulled up in front of one of Deuce's traps, I felt no reluctance. I was so convinced that the shit about to kick off was destiny.

With hoods over our faces and guns gripped in our pockets, we walked up to the door. At five in the morning, the streets were so quiet, you could hear the snow falling.

However, gunshots soon pierced the silence. We shot our way through the front door of the old brick house.

As expected, a block boy was sleep on the couch. The only furniture in the living room.

He darted under the couch where Ace told me the artillery was. But I was on top of it.

Before he could get his hand on his strap, I was standing on top of his arm, breaking it as I put more weight on it.

"Aargh!" He had to be at least sixteen. He was small, frail and short. "My arm!"

Ace had quickly moved to the back of the house where he knew where the weight was stashed.

Since he used to sell out of this spot, he knew the ins and outs.

Thanks to the connect talking way too much with a drunk tongue I knew that Deuce had just copped weight

This was a win-win.

The dude under my feet was frantically screeching and squirming. I didn't say a word. I simply pointed the gun at his head and stared into his eyes, daring him to make a move as I heard bones breaking under my Timberland boots.

Not even three minutes later, Ace was coming back into the living room carrying two large dusty garbage bags.

"Let's move," was all he said as he walked out the front door.

Pow! Pow!

I let off two shots into the dude's leg to keep him from chasing us to the car with gunfire.