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Part VIII

Part VIII:

I sat in the backseat of a white Jeep Wrangler, next to Chris. He was talking on the phone while Wolfy took a turn toward a couple of housing projects.

"If you fucking found him, hold him... This won't take long," he said.

Wolfy looked at me through the rearview mirror and smiled.
"Are you ready, Money?" he inquired.
"I'm as ready as the wife of a drug lord can be," I replied.
He chuckled as Chris got off the phone.

"Babe, take one of my guns," he took one of the two guns that were tucked and handed it to me.
"Where am I going to tuck this?" I smirked.
"You won't be tucking," he simply informed me as Wolfy parked.

"What do you--."
"Let's go," he got out the truck.
He circled the car and began walking into one of the buildings.
I hesitantly followed.
"Bust up in that bitch and demand that bitch nigga, Craig, to come with us," he spoke as we climbed the stairs.
"Is there any subtle way to do this?" I asked.
Chris sighed and shook his head while rolling his eyes.

"Someone's a little moody when ready to kill," I mumbled.
We eventually made it to where we were supposed to get this Craig guy.
"Do it like I told you," he commanded me.
I rolled my eyes as he leaned against the wall, next to the door.

"There are better ways to handle things rather than just demanding all the time, Chris," I spoke while knocking on the door.
He opened his mouth to retaliate, but the door swung open before even a syllable could escape.

I smirked at the thought as a little lady looked up at me.
"Oh, hello," she smiled.
I smiled broadly, hiding my gun behind my back.

She was the cutest little lady with such a warm, loving vibe.

"Good morning, Ma'am. Is Craig here?" I asked sweetly, making Christopher grit his teeth.
"Yes, he is.. But, I didn't know that knucklehead of a boy could pull such a pretty young thing," she smiled.
I laughed.
"I'll go get him," she spoke, stepping away from the door momentarily.
"What the fuck was--."
"Shut up," I sternly told Chris.

A lanky guy stepped to the door in a wife beater, basketball shorts, Nike Elites, and some Nike Slips. He was pretty attractive, to be honest, and I did have a bit of a thing for tall and lanky guys, back in the day.

"Who are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

His eyes scanned me from head to toe before he licked his lips and looked back into my eyes.
"The person who holds your life in their hands," I answered, holding the gun to his head.
His eyes widened and filled with fear.

"Just do what we say, and you won't get hurt," I told him.
"We?" his voice cracked a bit.

Chris pushed himself off the wall and stood next to me.
Craig swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Don't try anything stupid either, bruh," Chris showed his tucked gat.
"Uh, Ma! I'll be back later," he called before closing the door behind himself...

We got back in the car, Chris in the front with Wolf while I stayed in the back with Craig so I could hold him at gunpoint.

"You're so fucking stubborn," Chris broke the eerie silence.
"Are you talking to me?" I asked.
"Who else would I be talking to?" he raised his voice.
"How do you think the situation would've gone if you busted into the sweet lady's home with guns pointed at everybody, huh? Huh?! You don't fucking think sometimes!" I raised my voice right back.

"Who do you think you're fucking yelling at?" he inquired, his head cocking to the side as he glared at me through the rearview mirror.
"You! I'm sure as hell not yelling at Wolf," I replied.
"Wolf... Pull over," he calmly spoke.
"C, I don't kn--."
"Pull over," he repeated.
Wolf slowly did so.