Bruno was running as fast as he could, but I was faster. "Cierrah, please leave me alone," he pleaded, bending over to catch his breath. I shook my head and sucked my teeth. "Peter. I left you alone for almost seven years now. All I want is the two fifty you owe me."
Bruno's POV
I sighed harshly and dug in my pockets and fished out two dollar bills and two quarters. When I held it out for her to take, she took one good look and scoffed. "Is something wrong with you," she asked, knocking on my head and I backed away from her. "This your money you were looking for, ain't it?" She took the cigarette lighter from my chest pocket and pried the top off. Maybe something was wrong with her. Probably the build up of weed over the years. "Do you think I waited six years for two fucking dollars? I coulda stayed at the club and found it on the floor," she yelled, walking towards me. My heart was literally pounding. "I'm not giving you money for drugs I don't use anymore. Now, have yourself a nice rest of the night." With that being said and being proud of the way I handled it, I started walking away as fast as I could. "Bring your ass here, boy!" I kept ignoring her and walking back to my car.
Wiz
Maybe he didn't learn his lesson after that dog was in his mouth. With the little bottle of lighter fluid still in my hand, I just emptied on the ground next to me. "Aight. Keep writing your little shitty as love songs Pedro." While he was still walking, I slid my Glock 17 out my purse and cocked it. I secretly followed him to his car, making sure to keep a safe distance. Before he got it, he shook hands with someone and stuffed something down his pockets. "Preciate it man," he whispered and unlocking his car door and stepping in. "What do we have here, Mr. Clean," I jumped out and mocked him. His eyes widened and they landed on the gun pointing at him. "Shit. Why are you following me?" He tried to close the door but I caught it with my foot and nudged his chest. "Hold your fucking hands up where I can see em," I laughed, enjoying the frightened look on his face. He quickly raised them up and I dug the mysterious item from his pocket, which wasn't so mysterious to me. It was about twenty five pounds of coke. "Y-you can't tell anyone about this Cierrah," he whispered, looking around. "Don't tell anybody that you lied to the whole world about being clean? And you don't wanna pay your debt, but you wanna buy this expensive stuff? Oh hell nah." I smacked him with the gun and he groaned. "Where's the money Peter, huh? Do I have to fucking shoot you?" I kept asking him questions but he couldn't answer due to my punching and stabbing him. I guess he finally got the strength and confidence to be the man. Without me noticing, he grabbed the gun and kicked me off him, sending me onto the ground. "You want your fucking money? Here take it." He reached in his wallet and threw a five hundred dollar bill at me. "Now finish shaking that ass for me," he growled, picking me up and placing me on his lap. I don't know what the fuck happened, but all I know is I got my money finally, and I still get to work.
