D.R.I.P

Chapter 16 (Rashad)

     I guess I should of done more research about the shit I was gettin myself into. I had been known as a goon all my life, but this was a different level of  gangsta. I'd be lying if I said I was ready to be on this type of shit. At this point, 15 thousand wasn't enough to lose my life over.

Hell, maybe I should of just offed this nigga Q and left with 45 thousand instead. If you ask me 45 wasn't much either, but it was enough to get started. But now was the time to prepare myself for whatever was coming my way no matter what money.

We made it to the hotel at around 5pm. Exhausted wasn't the word. I mean how could a nigga sleep when he was worried about his life? What if this nigga Q really did believe I tried to set him up? I had to cross my T's and dot my I's. A nigga couldn't be naive.

I was drinking a glass of Ciroc while trying to ease my mind. I tried to remain calm and map out a plan in my head. I was gonna have to shake this nigga Q as soon as possible.

I could tell he was a different type of nigga. He was counting his 30 thousand out by hand with a blunt twisted in the side of his lips. I couldn't understand what would make a nigga want to worry about money at a time like this.

Suddenly his phone started ringing. His phone never stopped ringing during the entire trip. He was to busy to put it to ear now. "This wifey." He said before putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on the table. "Yo mami what's good?" He said greeting the woman on the other end. When she started speaking her voice sounded all too familiar. I had no choice, but to ear hustle. "When are you coming home?" She asked him. "I can't come home no time soon babe. I got caught up out here. I tell you about it later." He replied. "You always say that!" She shot with an attitude that I definitely recognized. "Jhene what the fuck you want a nigga to do?! I'm not finna argue with you B!" He said. "Im not finna argue with you either Quincy!" She spat before hanging up. My heart dropped to my stomach.

That's when it dawned on me...Q was Quincy and his bitch was my bitch aka Jhene. This wasn't good. This was fucked up. This meant that I was the nigga he wanted dead! This meant that shit could hit the fan at anytime.

Now my mind was beyond fucked up, but I couldn't show it. I rested on the bed and tried to relax my nerves without spilling my glass. The drama was at an all time high. I was not the kind of nigga that delt with drama properly.

I stared at the ceiling with one hand rested on my chest. "Yo my man! Is you good?" Q asked, but I was in no mood to express the fact that his bitch was pregnant by me. "I'm good. My stomach just hurt." I lied through my teeth, but still couldn't cover up the fact that I was in pain.

Suddenly there was loud banging coming from outside the hotel door. "FBI open up!" The voice hollered. Q and I started to move quickly as he stuffed his near bag duffel bag with the dope money. I was already near the hotel window attempting an escape. The window was hard to open, but I was successful.

By now Q and I had hoped through the window where we approached a tiny ledge. We leaned against the wall as we attempted to walk to the side being as careful as possible. My heart raced as I tried not to look at the long way down. This was like movie scene from James Bond.

Finally we made it passed the tiny ledge to a balcony of another hotel. Our eyes couldn't help but see the Spanish couple in the bed fuckin as we looked through the window. I didn't give a fuck, now was the time to take a chance as I entered their private room with no fucks given. Of course they yelled at us, but Q had his gun pointed in their direction forcing them to shut the fuck up.

I don't know how we made it back to Q's car successfully, but we did. We zoomed out the lot as quick as possible, but sirens where directly behind us. They were so close it was highly likely we'd get away clean this time.