Gangsta Lovin' || COMPLETED!

Chapter 3: Askin For Trouble

It was Friday.

But for Michael's Friday it was like our Monday.

It was time for him to put forth action to what he had called a "temporary" career but have been in that specific "field" since he was sixteen years old. He knew the game pretty good and very seldom came around any trouble. As a matter of fact he tried his best to stay away from trouble but it always found it's way to him.

With business to handle tonight, and to make his rounds Michael walked out of his house around eleven that night dressed in khakis,black boots, a red sweatshirt and a black leather jacket. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he made his way down the street; to avoid driving his car.

The cop siren behind him sounds and then his name is called through a bullhorn. "Michael!"

Grunting and sighing Michael turns around his hands still deep in his pockets.

"Hands out ya pocket Mike." Officer Willow instructs. "Hands above your head."

Michael does as told trying to make this process go as fast as he can. The cop car steps and willow hops out of the passenger side walking over to Michael, eying him carefully, and then patting him down.

"Where you going this time of night, Mike? Got some drungs to sell?"

"Do it look like I sell Drugs, man?" Michael asks sighing his hands resting on his head.

"It's Officer Willow to you."

Michael chuckles raising his eyebrow and shakes his head. "You got ta be shittin' me. We grew up in tha same hood, right next door to each otha so cut the professonal bullshit."

Willow pushes Michael viciously against his chest making him slide on the ice underneath his feet almost falling but Michael catches his silence and then looks up glaring at Willow who smiles statisfied as if he had accomplished something.

"Hit me Mike I dare ya and watch my partner get out of that car, taze you down, and take your ass to jail." Willow smirks and Michael growls. "Get your ass on Mike." Willow says shoving Michael.

"You betta be lucky that I actually care for ya momma, willow. Or I'd slit your fuckin' throat."

"Are you threatening a government officer, Mihcael?" Willow asks teeth clenched.

"You a shitty officer thats what you is. Fuck up out my face, Willow before I go and get ya momma." Michael threatens knowing Willow will back down and he does.

"Watch your back," Willow points at Michael as he slowly backs up before turning around and walking down the curb back over to the cop car which takes off before Willow can even shut his door completely.

Michael, trying to come himself down, continues to walk down the sidewalk.

"Yea, I ain't paid him shit. Who da fuckin man now?" Michael hears, who he was lookin for, boost. Creeping up to the corner of the building where the bus stop was on the other side Michael saw the five figures sitting around on the bench.

"You mean ta tell me dat you gettin' away wit Mike's money?" JC asks.

"Hell yea. That nigga ain't got shit on me." Lutha says shrugging and popping his collar.

Michael walks around the corner standing there waiting for his presence to be known. "He ain't as hard as ery'body be makin' him seem. He jus a regula old nigga." Lutha adds on shrugging.

JC is the first to notice the figure off to the side. He always knows who it just by the black curls and the stance. Of course JC is easily frightened and his emotions show on his face Lutha looks over at his friend who had looked as if he had just seen a ghost.