G.A.B.O.S. (Original Version)

Chapter XXIV

December put his feet up on the dashboard of his stolen car and palmed the gun in his hand. He was parked behind the popular soul food restaurant called Jr.'s, which is where the eatery's namesake stopped every day to get his lunch. December's goal was to make sure that the meal he picked up that day would be his last. Just like he'd done to Tremaine, he was going to hit Santana Milano where it hurt, leaving him with a wound that would never heal.

As badly as he wanted to see Santana being lowered six feet into the dirt, he knew that ruining his life would satisfy him more than ending it would. On another note, he knew that killing Santana was the safer option. No person in their right mind would want to be the cause of Santana's rage when his children were involved, but December wasn't in his right mind at the moment. He wanted revenge and he didn't care what the consequences for getting it were.

If he was thinking clearly, he would have pulled off before he did something he'd regret in the future. He would have listened to his better judgement and charged Santana's assault to the game. His pride urged him to go through with his plan. He'd had a little girl killed just a day earlier, after all. Half of his mission was complete. All he had to do now was finish it.

When he saw the million-dollar, blood red Hennessy Venom GT whip into the restaurant's parking lot, December tightened his grip on his gun. Only the Milanos were bold enough to casually ride around Miami in so much money. December had heard that the cheapest car in the garage of their cheapest house was priced at around seven hundred thousand dollars. Santana's family was eating in a way that December could only Tania of.

Up until their meeting months before, December had admired Santana. He'd wanted to be like him since he was a teenager. A part of him still looked up to the city's most powerful player, though he'd never admit it. Still, he respected Santana's hustle. He was a thoroughbred street nigga who didn't tolerate disrespect and would do anything to make sure that the people he loved were taken care of.

Drawing himself away from his thoughts, December exited his car and walked around to the passenger side of it, waiting patiently for Santana's oldest child to show his face. Since they were around the back of the restaurant and it wasn't going to officially open for another hour, they were completely alone.

After a few seconds, Jr., who was practically a carbon copy of his father, got out of his vehicle. "I'ma call you back in a few minutes, fam. Let me grab my lunch, and then we'll discuss whether we're taking on Mr. Brooks as a client." Jr. took his phone away from his ear and ended his phone call. He looked over and noticed December standing by his car. "Aye, we're not open yet. Come back in about fifty minutes, okay?"

December nodded but failed to move, causing Jr. to frown.

"What, you can't hear or something? You see the name on that sign?" He pointed to his left. "I'm Santana Milano, meaning I'm the junior that the sign is referring to. This is my establishment, and I need you to get off of my property until it opens."

"I heard y'all Milano kids were some self-entitled brats," December responded.

"You're not about to stand outside of my restaurant and talk about me, and you're damn sure not going to talk about my sister, nigga. Get the fuck away from my building before I beat your ass."

Realizing that the man had no intention of following his orders, Jr. moved closer to him until they were just inches apart. "You gonna leave, or am I gonna have to throw you across the street?"

"I'll leave," December said with a smirk. He took a step away from him and got back into his car. He turned it on and began backing out of his parking spot slowly.