Hard Knocks. (Urban Fiction)

Chapter 4

Miracle's POV:

I walked out of the VIP room in a state of shock. Then, went ahead and went to the dressing rooms.

This nigga really just dipped on me like that. He better text me or something because I ain't save his number. Pause. I'm tripping. I honestly don't need a nigga in my life right now.

Gina came from around the corner and smirked at me. "Go ahead and tell me what happened."

"Whatchu mean?", I asked.

"Bitch."

"Ho."

"Miracle!", she started laughing.

"Look, G. It wasn't shit, buuuuut," I stopped to mess with her.

"But?"

"I gave him my number." I said and turned back to my vanity.

"The trappers?"

"Yuh.", my word mumbled because I was wiping my face.

"Okay, okay. I see you. Gone and rake up on his money.", she laughed.

That's the thing. I don't give a fuck about how much a man makes. If we don't vibe, we don't vibe. I'm taking care of myself. He doesn't have to do shit for me. We can grind together, but I'll keep my game running.

I decided to roll my eyes and smile at her because Gina was my girl. No need to start unnecessary shit because our priorities different. Speaking of priorities..

"Aye. What time is it?", I asked.

"2:43. Why?", she raised her eyebrow.

Oh shit.

"Shit. Shit. Shit.", I stood up quick as hell.

"What's wrong, girl?", Gina said, worried.

"My 'father' is home and he thinks I usually get home at 2:45.", I started gathering my stuff and putting it in my bag.

"Oh, I'm sure he won't mind."

"Nigga. You honestly don't know him."

I threw on some jeans and a black tank top because it gets cold as shit at night. Then, I looked for my keys until I noticed my dumbass had them in my hands already.

Gina laughed while I yelled, "I'll catch you tomorrow night!"

The five minute walk from the club to my car was quick, but I felt a bad chill. With two cranks, my baby was rolling and bursting out Chance the Rapper. I couldn't help but to smile at this stupid ass song and sing along.

I'm sorry Ms. Jackson, but your daughter do dicks. Wouldn't be my old bitch... if you taught her new tricks.

Chris' POV:

We pulled up to the crib with the lights off. As quietly as possible, me and Michael hopped out and went to the trunk.

"You ready?", he asked.

"Been ready for this shit.", I answered. And I was. This nigga killed my moms and dad, then decided to steal my only sister away from me. It was finally time to take what I've lost back. They say it's a life for a life, and that's what I intend to do.

"My nigga," he laughed at me. "Just remember we're gonna be in and out. First, find whatever shit we can. Drugs, money, bitches, all that. Then, go in his room and kill him. You can do that because I know this all for you."

I nodded at him. 

Michael was honestly my nigga. When I got sent to a foster home, his family lived down the street. Once he told his dad my full name, he automatically knew who I belonged to. They adopted me and decided to teach me the ways of the streets. Then, they let me know what my father left me: a whole business. Michael's people were handling it until I got old enough to know how to run it on my own. I kept them around, though. You can't be everywhere at once. As for Mike, we stayed cool as fuck like a windmill. We became closer than close, and he's been riding with me ever since then.