Trappin'

34.

*screams internally* Them arms daddy, yes.

Y'all gotta learn to ignore my stupid ass. I'm a mess, yes. I am very much aware, lmao.

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Alex...

"Ma' nigga, get the fuck out my house." Fetty irritatedly demanded. "What the fuck is you even hea' fa'?"

"You know what the fuck this about!" Bryce waved the gun around. "You ain't wanna let me get in on da' moves in da' trap!"

"You's a pussy ass nigga if you still worried 'bout old shit like that." Fetty blankly stared at him.

My anger took over me so I ended up shouting, "Fuck you and your stupid, crazy ass sister!

You burned all of my fucking shoes and your sister touched my daughter!

She fucking broke into my mama's house and cut my daughter's leg!"

I rolled my eyes at him.  "You're just as crazy as your sister is."

"And this what you left my sista' fa'?" He looked at me with disgust before his face softened. "She ain't that bad... her ass lookin' right, too."

Fetty clenched his jaw as he grew furious with Bryce. "Yo, don't disrespect my girl like that." He warned.

Bryce held his hands up and began to snicker to himself.

"You tryna act bad in front of ya' girl? Bet you won't shoot my ass. Do it." The fool taunted.

"You ain't shot not one person the whole time we was trappin' togetha' and I bet you won't do the shit now, you fuckin' pussy."

Without hesitation, Fetty shot Bryce several times.

He had this unmoved look on his face like he'd done it so many times before.

I let out an ear-piercing scream. "Fetty, wha-what did you do?"

"You got two workin' eyes, right? I shot the muh'fucka'." He bluntly responded.

He put his gun back into his sweats. "Ten times." He held up ten fingers.

I was took shaken up to move. I was literally frozen in the spot I stood in.

"Babe, what's that noise?" I said, barely audible above a whisper.

I could hear walking coming from upstairs. About three seconds later, multiple men carrying guns came downstairs.

"Fuck!" Fetty yelled, pulling out his gun. "Babe, run!" He screamed at me.

But I couldn't because unfortunately, I was petrified with fear. Bullets flew around the living room.

He rushed towards me and picked me up, running out of the living and stopping in the kitchen. We both hid behind the kitchen island.

By now, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. "I don't want to die!" I panicked.

Fetty reached up and opened the drawer above us. He pulled out a glock that he left there.