[𝗨𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗦] 𝗡𝗕𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗡

𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡. 𝟭𝟯

𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗚𝗢, 𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗜𝗦
𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗗𝗔𝗬
-
𝗗𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟯, 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯
𝟮 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗜𝗜

"Whatcha mean you got bitches waitin' for me?"

The question made Durk shrug as he ran through the red light. "We going to the club, little nigga," Von rolled his eyes, "Ain't shit little 'bout me." He mumbled, texting Kentrell for the tenth time since the incident.

"You still ain't answer my question, stud-lookin' ass bitch," he mumbled, moving from iMessage to Instagram. Durk sucked his teeth at the word that slipped from Dayvon's lips, "India is hosting at a club, she got some friends there." He spoke, making the other turn.

"Bitch, it's only four; that shit finna be dry," Von muttered. "And I'm not lookin' for another bitch," he continued. Durk looked at him when they stopped at a red light, only because the cops were right there. "Von, that nigga clearly don't want you," Durk replied, putting his foot on the gas as soon as the light hit green, glancing at Von's phone who was now looking at a Instagram page, which Durk assumed was Kentrells'.

Von glared at him, insisting, "He does. Stop playing with me; that's my baby." Durk sighed loudly, "Here your simp ass go!" He said with a laugh, "You said the same shit with that bitch Kema, where she at now? In the ground cause' she played with you."

Von rolled his eyes, knowing what his cousin meant. Kema was a girl that Von liked; he met her at school, she was her first love...only to find out that she was fucking his opps.

"We ain't going there now anyways," Durk said, now driving down an unfamiliar street. "I gotta sell, you coming with me." Dayvon rolls his eyes. He doesn't like selling; killing people was more his forte.

Durk parked the car. "If a nigga get outta line, you can bust they shit, a'ight folks?" Von looked at his cousin, his eyes big, with the thought of k̶i̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶—beating a nigga ass.

"I'ma keep you to your word. If you lied, ima beat your ass instead." Durk sucked his teeth, "Get the fuck out the car."

-

𝟭𝟬:𝟱𝟱 𝗣𝗠

City Girls 'Rodeo' was playing as they walked into the crowded building. "We got Lil Durk and King Von in the buildin'!" the DJ said over the music.

Von followed behind Durk, the older leading them to where India was sitting.

Liquor was being drank, hookah was being smoked. Normally, you had to be twenty-one or older to be in the club, but with money, you could do as you pleased.

Von wasn't in the mood to be around other people. The urge to bust a nigga's head was consuming him, the killer instinct itching.

Durk didn't keep his word about letting him beat some nigga's ass if they popped off, even though it did happen; his cousin told him to chill.

Kentrell—hasn't texted or called him back. He hasn't been able to shoot somebody, and Misharron was on Instagram still posting pictures of them. "Loosen the fuck up," Durk said, pulling Von over to the seating area of the club where India and the others were.