Nothing But Trouble (All The Way Home Sequel)

Chapter 47: The final confrontation.

Karter in the MM

***KARTER'S POV***

It's been a two months. Two fucking months and i still haven't found shit. Whover the fuck this person was, they were good at covering their tracks.

Quite frankly, i was tired of this shit. Working all day and night to find a fucking ghost. It was exhausting. I'd been doing shit the polite way lately but if i wanted results, i was going to have to resort back to my old ways.

I parked my car outside the townhouse and headed to the door. I knocked four times and then waited. Two minutes later, Rashad opened the door. He wasn't at home so i decided to visit his mama's house instead."Yo, we don't want any" he yawned, rubbing his eye. He finally stopped rubbing his eye and looked at me. "Oh fuck no !" He tried to slam the door in my face but i stuck my foot in the door before he could.

"Rashad, i'm not in the mood. Open the fucking door and invite me inside." I glared at him

He gave me the death glare back but finally opened the door. "Come in."

I stepped inside the house and made myself at home on the couch. Rashad went to the back and returned a minute later wearing pants. I didn't notice it before but that nigga looked rough. There was cut going down his face. It was healed but it still left a faint brown scar. I wonder who fucked him up.

"So what the fuck do you want, bruh ?" He asked, sitting down on the couch in front of me.

"Information." I sighed.

He shook head back and forth. "Hell no. I'm not telling yo ass shit, bruh. You a fucking opp nigga !"

"An opp ?" I laughed. "Nah." I shook my head. "I'm a bounty hunter, nigga. The cheif of police pays me to catch the niggas he can't find. If i was opp, they would have been thrown my crooked ass in jail." I laughed at him.

"Still a fucking opp. You work for them, that makes you one." He curled his lip in disgust.

"No. That makes me smart. See, i could've been a drug dealer. I could've made millions. But that would've been stupid. You dumb motherfuckers think you're doing some shit when you start slanging. You think you have power and prestige. But really, yall don't have shit. You kill people for what ? As a means of survival ? Nah." I shook my head. "I don't buy it. You don't kill because you have to, you kill because you want to. You sell drugs because you want to. You're willing to sacrifice the lives of your own people for a fucking dollar sign. Nigga, you're more of an opp than i am." I laughed. "You" i pointed. "Are property of the state of Florida. Me ? I'm a free man. You'll never be free though. You'll always be looking for your next come up, always on the run from the law, always be a fucking statistic. As long as you sell that shit, the state owns you. Don't call me a fucking opp, nigga. I care more about Miami then you ever have. What the fuck have you done for your people besides flood the streets with drugs and dead bodies ? How many children have you left fatherless ? How many babies have caught one of your stray bullets ?" He stayed silent. "Exactly. You can shut the fuck up about that opp shit. I do what i do to protect my people from fuck boys like you who aint never gave a fuck about anything but his dick and his money. You've pissed me off and you've wasted my time. I suggest you tell me what the fuck i want to know or this 'opp' is going to blow a fucking hole in your knee. And guess what ?" I laughed. "I'm feeling really trigger happy today."

"Fine." He clenched his jaw. "What do you want to know."

"There's this new coke that's being sold-"

"There always is." He rolled his eyes.

I shook my head. "Nah, this shit is pure. So pure that bodies have been turning up all over the city. I need to know who's selling it and where i can find them."