C H A P T E R T H R E E

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"Nah, nigga, I done told you that you either gon' run me my damn money, or we gon' have some problems

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

"Nah, nigga, I done told you that you either gon' run me my damn money, or we gon' have some problems." I cock the gun in my hand, the cold, metal barrel pressed into the temple of Giovanni, one of my corner boys who likes to dip into the funds and take what's not his. "Now, this the second time this month than I done had to check your pockets to make sure you ain't been stealing from me. You two hundred dollars short, nigga. So, where the rest? I know the magical leprechaun ain't stole it for his pot o'gold at the end of the rainbow."

Giovanni raises his hands, licking his dry lips, and I can practically see the sweat on his palms. His brown eyes are wide and wild as he looks up at me, and I raise my eyebrows at him, lips parted to show the grill off in my mouth as I tilt my head slightly.

"Maybe you oughta just go on and shoot that lil nigga, B." Radio, my right-hand man and best friend since kindergarten grade, says from behind me, his eyes turned down on his phone screen, no doubt handling the drama that one of his three baby mamas bring to him.

"I'm about to if he don't open that mouth of his and tell the truth." I say, pushing the barrel of the gun harder into Giovanni's temple, and I smirk as he winces. "What's it gon' be?"

"Okay. Okay." Giovanni says, his eyes squeezed shut tight, he's shaking even more as he licks his dry lips. "Okay. I had to dip into the money because my granny insurance fell through last month and she need her medication."

Radio laughs out loud, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder, and he mimes zipping his lips and mouths sorry. I swear this nigga thinks his life is a white family sitcom.

I turn my eyes back to Giovanni, my finger tightening on the trigger, a little more pressure and I'll have pulled it. I see the pleading look in Giovanni's eyes, and I lower the gun with a sigh.

"I'on give a shit about ya granny, nigga." I say, grabbing Giovanni by his shoulder and yanking him back up to his feet. "Next time, just come talk to me and maybe we can work something out. But if you ever steal from me again, I'll put a bullet through you and ya sick ass grandma head. Understood?"

"Understood." Giovanni nods his head, and I push him to the door.

"Now get the hell outta my sight." I say, putting the gun back in my waistband as he rushes out of the door.

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