~Jared Kleinman Joins the Mafia: A Jared Klienman fanfic~

~Chapter 3: The trade~

I'm just waiting for my flight.

~Jared's POV~

The whole gang started to gain respect for me at the days went on. We became extremely close—Especially Melvin and I. We all are, as they say, "Brothers."

But it wasn't smoking and gambling all day, unfortunately. One day, the boss came in and stressfully announced, "Boys, Alfonce and his goons are comin' over for a 'green trade.' Just give them the goods and ignore conflict, alwight?"

We all nodded. Code green is our code word for drug trafficking—weed, to be exact. Alfonce's group wasn't very friendly towards ours. The boss and him have had many fights in the past.

Melvin slapped me on the back—almost making me choke up my spine—and asked, "Are ya' excited for ya' first trade?"

I nervously smiled,  but with fake confidence I replied, "Yep! It can't be that hard, right? These guys can't be too tough!"

~~~

These guys were tough.

And scary, might I add.

About 7 men built like tanks and multiple tattoos were glaring at us as we tried to glare back. Unfortunately, these men could see right through us.

Well, more like me.

The plan was the boss did the talking, Melvin and Antonio negotiated the price of the weed with the other two strongest members of their gang, and the other guys and I would try to prevent others from getting their lights punched out.

I was hoping that I would go unnoticed, but I quickly was let down as a man with gang tattoos smothering ever inch of bulky body. He had a large scar on his chest: half of it being covered up by his black tank-top.

I tried to cockily smile, but I was overcome with fear. I waved at him and tried to stop myself from shaking out of my pants.

"H-hello, sir! You...uh...smoke pot, too?"

The man got in my face and growled, "Don't play games with me white boy. You're no tough-guy, marshmallow." He bitterly laughed, pushing me.

"S-sir, please: I don't want any trouble." I tried to back away.

His laugh bellowed and he sneered, "You're nothing, kid. Go ahead a cry to your mommy weakling." He spat on my face.

That was it.

The Insanely Cool Jared Klienman wasn't gonna play nice anymore.

"I'M FLIPPING JARED KLIENMAN!" I screamed. I felt my fist move, and like muscle memory:

I socked him right in the jaw.

The man stumbled back, blood trickling down the side of his jaw as it turned a purplish-black.

I looked at my fist: it had a tiny bit of blood streaking down it. I felt a fire rise within me.

"WHO ELSE WANTS A PEICE OF JARED KLIENMAN?"

Everyone looked shock. Suddenly, Alfonce grabbed his (probably illegal) pistol from his jacket and yelled, "Deals off! Get em, boys!"

The next few minutes were a blur. Bullets whizzed past my head as I did my best to fight with my fist. I finally heard a loud grunt and someone land at my feet.

It was Alfonce.

He angrily got up and noticed he and his goons were out of ammo. He narrowed his eyes and me and ushered his boys out of the building. Before running off like the coward he was, he yelled, "Don't think you'll get off that easily, Rico! I'll get all of you back—especially you, Klienman. I'll make you wish you were never born!"

Okay my second flight is about to take off. How are you guys doing? Hopefully good! Either way, have a nice day/night❤️🦙❤️