Mo woke up to slaps across his face. His eyelids shot up to be blinded by a great beam of light. He blinked to adjust his eyes and heard voices around him.
He finally got his eye sight together but an even more painful headache followed. He put his hand on his head and groaned.
"What the fuck," he said now trying to get his bearings.
He looked to see that he was in his living room and on his couch. The lights were now on and he spotted two figures immediately standing in the room with him.
"Yeah, pick that fat motherfucker up," he heard a familiar voice say. Not a voice from his crew or one of the people he deals with but a voice he had heard before.
His eyes finally focused and he recognized the musclebound dude with the black tank top and sagging True Religion jeans immediately. He was the one that came on his block before. The notorious Maine. There was another dude with him though. This dude looked like a pretty boy, curly short hair, wasn't very muscular but fit like he trained and worked out but not for mass. He looked like a darker version of the rapper Drake in Mo's opinion.
"What's up, Maurice?" pretty boy said using Mo's government.
Mo hated people saying his government.
"What the fu..."Mo was about to say but was stopped when the guy nodded and Maine punched Mo again across the face.
Mo fell back into the couch holding his nose.
"You don't have the right to talk," the guy said. "You had that right before and you lied so the next words that come out of your mouth now but to be all truths or my man Maine going to do more than treat your face like a punching bag."
Mo didn't say another word just attended to his nose.
"You may not know me but you've heard my name," the dude said. "It's Trouble. Now I know it's a corny name to some and I personally don't like it myself but I'm branded with it and for good reason. One is I don't like trouble but if someone causes that for me, well, then that's a different story."
Mo didn't speak just looked at Trouble while holding his nose. Blood trickled between his hands. Mo knew it might be broken.
"I'm going to get down to business," Trouble said clapping his hands together once and then rubbing them together like he had sticks and was trying to make a fire. "You have some property of mines that I want back. Now before you get to lying and saying that you don't know what I'm talking about. One of your own clientele came to me with the missing goods in question and told me where he got it from. Now he did this on the strength that he wanted no problems with me and I concurred. I understand. I wouldn't want no problem with me either. Nigga, I'm scared of my damn self. I have to remember not to piss myself off sometimes."
Trouble laughed at his own joke and Maine followed suit. Mo didn't know what the fuck this guy was even saying because of his splitting headache and bloody broken nose.
"Ok, so here's the deal, either tell me where my product is, where my money is or who else you sold it to," Trouble said.
"I don't..."Mo didn't get to finish that line before another fist met his jaw.
"Say we starting off with that lying shit," Trouble said. "'Don't' is always followed by some lying shit. ALWAYS. Never fails. You can't put any truth behind a 'don't'. Now let's not do this. I'm not a bad guy. Just a motherfucker wanting what's his. Now I let thug niggas do thug shit but if you want me to start doing thug shit, you kept with up the don'ts."
Mo looked at Maine before he spoke again. Maine had his fists clenched ready for Mo say something that didn't sound like what they wanted to hear.
"Do you want your choices again?" Trouble inquired.
YOU ARE READING
Bite Size Trouble (Urban)
RandomMeet Lovely Wilson. But her friends call her Bitesize. But don't let her size or her name fool you, she may be small but she's a handful. Not to mention she rolls with a crew that's even more dangerous than she is. So if you want to try her, make su...