BANDIT II

•10•

You know what truly aches? Having so much inside you and not having the slightest clue of how to pour it out. - Karen Quan, Write like no one is reading...

The Next California Morning...

Unknown...

I walked circles around Kamren, laughing as she whimpered in sobs. All this torture could really be over if she comprehends, but she keeps playing clueless.

"Kamren it's not that hard. All you gotta do is tell me where she went."

"I don't know where she went! This is crazy, you're crazy you're sick!" She screams, spitting at my feet. I chuckle, gripping my hand around her neck tightly. She begins to sob, begging me to stop.

"All I wanna fucking know is where her family is! Why can't you just be a good girl and tell me what the fuck I need to know!" I grit.

"I keep telling you. I don't know where she is. Please just let me go, or kill me already." She sobs some more. I sigh heavily, forcefully letting her neck go. It was no use. I'm obviously not doing enough to make her talk, and I'm getting tired of asking these gotdamn questions. I tell my guards to let her go back in to the room and keep her there. She's going to talk, I just have to get it out of her.

"Yo that girl from the club escaped." Dustin tells me as he enters my office. I furrow my eyebrows confused. I throw my gun down on my desk, sitting down beginning to roll up.

"I thought Ramir choked her out." Dustin chuckles shaking his head no.

"Shit I did too, until I went in the bathroom and saw Ramir holding himself, and Floyd groaning too. I asked Ramir where the girl was and he pointed to the window, she bust right out of it." He laughs. These bitches have no rap these days. The door opens and I look up, scoffing in laughter.

"Nigga don't scoff at me like I did something the fuck wrong. Your dumb ass crew shooting and don't even know who the fuck they shooting at." The person snaps.

"Your ass should of stayed in the club like I told you too." I mumble.

"Or maybe your ass needs another crew. Your work is horrible, just like your damn father and you fucking cousin." He argues. I slam a fist down on my desk, causing a loud thud.

"You shut the fuck up! You don't know shit about my father, or my cousin aight! Hell I don't even know shit about them! I was born without either one of them in my lives, but my mother told me other then the killings they were good men at heart." I argue.

"Man whatever. Mother's will tell their sons anything to stop they asses from asking mothafucking questions. I already know my pops wasn't shit." He chuckles. I roll my eyes, pearling the blunt and sealing it with the flame from the lighter.

"Who's father wasn't shit though?" Dustin cosigns as him and my cousin both laugh.

"Right. This nigga over here, praising him like he did him good. The only thing this nigga left him was this big ass house." I scoff in laughter shaking my head.

"You just talking a whole bunch of shit today, aren't you?" I chuckle.

"You damn right." I nod, licking my lips.

"Just remember mafucka, if it wasn't for my father your ass would be on the street. Because your mother doesn't want shit to do with you, and I took you in. Now, that lil wound in your arm can be much worst bitch. Keep talking shit." I tell him. He rolls his eyes, sighing heavily.