Ricky II: Ramirez Blood

Chapter 1: Life (Simon's POV)

"Okay Ricky, so I'm going to show you some pictures of some guys that matched the description you gave me. Let me know if you recognize any of them." Thomas said. "Okay." I said. As he kept scrolling down showing me pictures, my blood began to boil. I just knew we were getting closer to finding out who killed my father. Then Thomas scrolled to another guy that looked exactly like the man I was looking for. "HIM! THAT'S THE SON OF A BITCH!" I screamed pointing at the screen. "You sure?" He asked turning around looking at me. "YES IM POSITIVE! NOW WHO IS THIS FUCKER?" Thomas clicked on his picture which made all his information pop up. "Okay, Ricky. His name is..." Thomas was interrupted by gunshots blasting through the basement windows. Thomas ducked down as well as Simon. I was caught off guard as bullets pierced my arms. "RICKY! RICKY! RICKY!" Simon screamed grabbing my leg trying to pull me down to the ground. Before I made it to the ground, one bullet pierced my head and my whole world went black.

"FUCK! RICKY! GET UP!" I screamed over the sound of the rapid gunfire. I was shaking but not with fear, but with anger. I looked over at Thomas to see him crawling towards me with his iPhone 6. "CALL THE FUCKING COPS, SIMON! FUCKING NOW!" Thomas screamed at me. I snatched the phone and dialed 911 with one finger in my ear and Ricky's bloody head in my lap. Suddenly, the gunfire ceased and the room fell silent except for the ringing in my ears. The operator came on and asked me what my emergency was and I explained to them the events that just occurred, except for the reason why we were here. They stated that they would be here shortly.

"What do we do now?" Thomas asked in a frightened tone. "Thomas, you have to delete your search history. Pull up some gay ass video game to make it seem like we came over here to play." I answered with my hand covering in my face. I looked down at Ricky. His eyes were closed and the bullet hole on the left side of his head was leaking onto my shirt. I took off my shirt, balled it up, and applied a low amount of pressure to his wound. "How am I going to get through this? What if he dies?" I thought to myself. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes but I forbade it to happen. Thomas crawled back to me. "Is he breathing?" He asked. "I don't fucking know! I'm not no doctor-ass nigga from Harvard!" I answered him in an irritated tone. He rolled his eyes and glanced at Ricky with a worried expression. He put two fingers on Ricky's windpipe and stared at him. "He has a pulse but it's faint." "And how the fuck do you know that, Dr. Thomas?" I asked sarcastically. "Because, DUMB ASS, everyone knows to check for a pulse, you're supposed to put two fingers on the windpipe which is where the carotid artery is. Then to get your heart rate per minute, you..." I stopped Thomas. "I don't give a fuck about all that, bro."

The police and the ambulance busted in with their guns cocked and loaded. "What the hell happened here?" One of the officers asked us. "My brother and I came over here to play a game with our friend Thomas here and out of nowhere, some niggas shot in the window!" I answered. The ambulance people came and put my brother's body on a stretcher. "I need to go with him! Ya'll can question me at the hospital." "Fine. But your friend here will have to be interrogated as well." I didn't even stand around to hear the rest. I ran after the stretcher and got in the back with Ricky. They hooked him up to some machines and sped off. I grabbed Ricky's hand and started to clutch it. His hands were starting to feel cold. "FUCK!" I said to myself. Everything is just getting worse and worse. How the hell am I supposed to tell Uncle Chico that his youngest nephew has a bullet in his dome? And where the hell is Rich when you need him?!

Notee:)

Hello Everyone! Long time no see!

Im finally working on Ricky II. You guys have been bugging me about this story. 

Everyone is itching to see what happens to Ricky. Well here you go! 

Enjoy<3