' 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡 ' › D. SWING

33.

DeVantè.

"You ever shot somebody before?", Suge inquired as he sat across from me, a cigar between his index and middle finger while he looked at me.

I shook my head, "Nah."

My head was clouded with all of the liquor and chronic I had consumed within the past hour of my talk with him. At first, we talked about family, then we somehow got on the subject of the robbery. Let's just say my anger was beginning to get the best of me.

"Do you want to?", he asked, tilting his head slightly to the right, his intense gaze still on me. It was as if he was scoping me out to see if I was like him, or if I could possibly become like him one day. Before, it seemed unlikely. Me and Suge were in two different mindset. Now, it was hard to tell us apart. It scared me sometimes.

I chuckled softly while playing with the large ring on my finger, shrugging a little, "I could see myself doin' it if I'm pushed far enough."

"Hm", was all he said as he nodded his head, sitting up, his forearms now resting along the start of his knees. "How would you feel if I told you the person who robbed you is the very person who raped your girlfriend and I could help you track'em down?"

I sat quietly, taken off guard but my face remained unbothered while I thought about what he had asked me. He asked as if he knew who it was already. I mean, how else would he know it's the same exact person? I reached up to scratch the edge of my brow, clearing my throat shortly after, "I would be relieved. After all, I could finally end that mothafucka' for what he did. Be one less thing for me to worry about."

"I figured you would say that. Which is why I've already made the arrangements", he announced. The confidence he carried was  something that couldn't be duplicated and believe me, I've tried.

He had a smile on his face that made me a little uneasy.

I furrowed my eyebrows, staring at him, "Arrangements?" I was nervous, not gonna' lie. But I refused to look like a bitch, especially not in front of Suge. "Oh, aight. Cool, cool. I'm down", I replied nonchalantly, though my mind was racing a million miles a minute.

"Good. 'Cause it's happenin'...tonight", he said as he smirked, getting up from his chair and adjusting his suit jacket over the gun that was tucked between his belt and shirt.

Shit.

I was left dumbfounded. "Wait. T-tonight, like...right now?"

"Yes, t-tonight", he replied, mocking me. "Get up. You comin' or you gon' punk out on me?" He paused for a moment, one of his eyebrows raised, "I could do it without you but just know that if I do, you owe me."

I gulped down my saliva, my mouth suddenly becoming dry as I slowly stood up from my chair, "Nah, I'm comin'."

"Aight. Well, me and Ace gon' be in the car. Neil and Drew will help you get...equipped", he said followed by a chuckle before he left the lounge area of Death Row Records, heading outside and leaving me with his two guards.

Neil sighed as he look at me then over at Drew, "Man, why we always gotta' get stuck with the rookies?"

"Nigga, shut up", Drew said as he pushed him to the side, walking over to me with a black duffle bag in hand, setting in on the coffee table in front of me and unzipping it, revealing the ammo, guns, and vests inside. "Aight, since you got them long ass spider fingers, I'ma give you the Kalashnikov, but niggas in the hood call it the AK-47", he said as he reached into the bag, pulling out the machine gun.