Every King Needs His Kareem: Just when you thought it was over, it was the beginning of what you called the 21st century World War Z between people who have profound never ending love for one another or so you would think. Continue to follow Cameron...
If someone ever told me that one day I would be standing over a Mexican drug dealer with a 9 mm semi-automatic barrel filled with seven polished bullets ready to blow his head off, I'd say they lying. But times change and so do people. Everybody was against everyone; there was no one to trust.
"Juan you have one minute to tell me where the fuck my stash is." I said calmly. While my brand new coal black Jimmy Choo boots rested heavily on his chest with his hands tied behind his back. Everybody knew Queenie was always calm, maybe it's because I always showed up to the jobs high.
Till this day I'm yet to find out what made me want to be a Cartel. Looking back at who I was I could not imagine myself killing people and selling drugs. I guessed you could say after standing behind Cameron for years I somehow found trill in this life. I didn't need to listen to people, I didn't have to answer to no one. I was my own boss.
"For a pretty girl you got a mouth on you ma'." He chuckled.
Being that the chamber was already pulled back all I needed to do was to pull the trigger and that was what I did.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
I shot him in his head. I hated when people underestimated me; all my life I've been underestimated, 'She's a nerd ain't shit she can do.' Actions always spoke louder than words. I've learnt over the year that in order for me to have proved myself to people I had to show them that I meant all the shit I say.
Stooping low I pulled out my black knife and slit his shirt open. Then I made an 'X' on his chest. Using his shirt I wiped the blood off the knife and got up.
"Ladies let's go. We are having a meeting when we get back to base." I shouted at my girls as I pushed back my knife in my back pocket before walking out of his warehouse.
Now everybody in Chi-Town knew damn well not to fuck with me or my shit. All he had to do was to deliver my shit to me and he would be standing here right now; simple as that! But no fuck with the bitch and get killed. Juan knew damn well he was on my turf, shit I sent my girls to warn his ass that he was on my side of Chicago. Juan knows once he was on my turf all of his stash belonged to me and I was kind enough to send a message.
"Tell your majesty to come tell me that shit herself." Was his exact words.
It was nothing new to Chicago that once you requested Queenie's presences you're ready to die and indeed he was. Being one of the top female drugs dealers in Chicago, I had to watch my back and my turf. Because, if I let a nigga slip into my turf soon they will want overcome me and that shit would cause a World War III which Chi-Town couldn't handle right now.
Kicking gravels as I walked away from the warehouse I pulled out the keys to my all black Ducati superbike before I hopped on. After turning it on, I revved it up as I waited for my girls to get out and on their bikes.
"Two...Five...Six." I counted as I checked to see if they were all behind me.
When they all confirmed they were ready; by their revving bikes, I sped off with them behind me.
My trap house was only eleven minutes away. After over taking cars in the midnight traffic we made it back to the trap.
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