Staring at my white Adidas, I found myself rubbing my temples quite often as I ran my thumb across the charcoal grey colored machine gun in my hand. Today was the day, as cliche as it sounded. Personally, I wouldn't view it as a 'life or death' predicament, it didn't feel that way. I couldn't fully grasp the idea that my life was on the line, because it wasn't. That's just how it was. Anything could happen, whether I was prepared or not, that's just how it was.
"It's uh, almost 2." Dre reminded me before disppearing upstairs. I nodded, even though he was unable to see. My eyes rose to the clock on the wall which read 1:47, we had to reach Deathrow HQ by 2:20, according to D.O.C.
Kuneka had told me she loved me last night. I think it was out of spite, seeming as she said while I was kissing on her neck. Kuneka wasn't like that though, if she said something then she most likely meant it. Unsure of what to say, I had only continued to make her feel good. I wasn't gonna lie, I didn't know my true feelings for Kuneka. I didn't know what love felt like, or at least I thought I didn't.
Fuck, it's just that I had been with so many bitches, the most I've had in common with a girl is that we could both bust a nut sequentially. Tomica got rid of Jerry Heller for me just so she could bask in my fortunes without any disruptions. My old girl, Tracy, that's a whole different party. But Kuneka, she was too dependent towards me, but she differed from all my other girlfriends. Shit, I didn't even know if she was my girlfriend.
To be real, I didn't know why I tried to sleep with Tomica. She had showed up on my doorstep, apologizing. It was all superficial. I blamed myself for even falling into a trap such as hers.
"The fuck are you doin'? Come on, man." Cube scolded as him and Dre came downstairs with one of my duffle bags full of guns.
I meekly chuckled, "Chill the fuck out, man. I'm thinkin', ...shit." I said as I swiftly shoved the clip into my AK. Rising from my seat, I shoved the gun into the waistband of my Levi's. "Y'all niggas ready?"
Ren sucked his teeth with a frown, "Niggas, is YOU ready?"
"Over here in his feelin's and shit." Yella joked.
I sarcastically laughed and hit them with a straight face, "Fuck outta here, clown ass niggas."
Dre laughed and pat me on the back, "It's all good, G. Don't trip. Naw, but foreal. We gotta roll out." I checked the clock and it was 1:59, there wasn't anytime to waste.
The five of us piled in my Impala, absorbing L.A's late night air. While driving down the side roads, we all vibed to the sounds of guns being cocked and the tires kissing the cement. As cryptic as it sounded, it was actually peaceful. The four of us were about to commit murder, and yet I found myself at peace.
"This shit too perfect, man. You know how you get that gut feelin' that some shit gon' happen? I ain't even got that feelin'. I'm ready." Ren voiced as he toyed with his glock. I had to agree, it was as if this was too good to be true. Shit never went like this, but I wasn't gonna complain.
Anticipation and suspense grew as we inched closer and closer to the Deathrow HQ. Pulling in around back, we sat there for a couple minutes in dark contained silence.
"E, just make your way upstairs. We'll handle the rest just go, don't stop unless it's necessary. If it's niggas in yo way, shoot 'em. Other than that, get that nigga Suge." Dre said calmly as he cocked his gun.
"C'mon." I said quietly before we got out.
Ren pointed his gun at the door, "Let's do this, nigga." Next thing I knew I had grown goosebumps from running through the pearlescent hallways. I had to get to the front in order to reach the elevators.
The receptionist was frightened as she shrieked for me to explain my presence. Faint gunshots were heard as she yelled, "Sir! Sir? Who are yo-," a closer gunshot rang and her screams became a nuiscance as I continuously pressed the elevator button.
"Shut the fuck up!" Cube yelled out to the woman as he pointed his gun at her. "E, fuckin' get upstairs!"
I grunted loudly prior to kicking the elevator, "Fuck! Where the fuckin' stairs at?!" I snatched my AK from my waistband and aimed it at the receptionist who was shaking like a dog. Her brittle hand pointed to the right, and I followed suit. Sprinting to the right, I was met by Dre, whom I almost had shot.
"Come on!" I ran upstairs and he followed behind me, we dashed up the flights as if there were no tomorrow. Shit, at this rate, it might not be one.
Dre huffed, "I know this place like the back of my hand, keep it pushin', E! I got you!" After several steps, I felt as if my legs were going to go out on me, but finally we reached the 14th floor.
Sprinting through the maroon colored hallways, I had paused for a quick second before I spotted one of Suge's goons. I had shot him without a second thought and followed Dre's directions as he guided me.
"Shoot that motherfucker!" Dre exclaimed roughly.
I looked everywhere as I ran, "Who?!" A gunshot was heard and I had a burning sensation in my arm, and excruciating pain came following behind it. "Fuck!" I said through grunted teeth as I held my arm. I felt blood moistening my sleeve. Several other gunshots were heard and I heard a thump. Must've been the nigga who shot me.
"Yo you good, E?"
"Yeah, fuck, it's a graze, come on!" We burst through the infamous double doors that led to the main lounge, just before the recording studios. We expected Suge to be in here, but he wasn't. There wasn't anyone in here.
"Fuck, man," Dre said breathlessly. "Where this nigga at?"
My arm dripped with pain as we sat there, catching our breath. Suddenly, we heard a voice. It was loud, but awfully faint, it had to have been coming from one of the studios.
"Damn, it was really worth it, huh?" It was Suge, playing on one of the microphones. Dre went down one hallway, and I went down the other. It was just my luck, his voice became clearer as I ventured past the several booths.
"I shoulda expected this, especially with punk ass Andre."
I knew where he was, I leaned against the door, opening it normally. I found Suge just sitting there, in front of all the music controls, a smug look painted upon his face.
"You know, killin' me don't make you a man." He said, keeping his eyes plastered to the front.
I blew air through my nose, "I woulda said the same thing to you if I woulda knew what was up." I shook my head slowly, standing in the doorway with my gun to my side.
"I pity you, Eric. You're alive. You didn't die, what more do you want, man?" Suge laughed.
I squeezed my gun as my anger grew, "It ain't even just that. I was stressin' in that hospital, man. I was thinkin' it was the end. I had plans, nigga. Where yo goons at now? Fuckin' dead, it's just you."
Suge finally laid his eyes on me and stood up, "Shoot me then, lil nigga! I bet my life that half of L.A will be rollin' on yo ass the second you walk out this mothafucka!"
I had held my gun up with much force, breathing heavily out of anger. I clenched my jaw and stared up at Suge's shit eating smile.
"Lil' fuck nigga, with yo pussy ass! This how you handle shit now? That's that fuck shit."
"Shut the fuck up!" I angrily shouted. "You don't know a god damn thing about me!"
I had heard shuffling behind me, followed by an, "E, shoot his ass."
"Shoot me. Do it, punk ass!"
"I hope yo bitch ass rot in hell. Fuck you, nigga. Fuck you and everything you stand for. Now any last words before I smoke yo ass?"
