My First Thug

Chapter EIGHTEEN.

.....seven months later

Noami's POV.

Faith and I decided to get our nails done after school.

"What color you getting?" she asked.

"I'm gonna get yellow." I said.

We was finished and we took a pic of our nails.

I got yellow stilleto nails and Faith got mint green squared nails.

We went to get something to eat at Wendy's. We ordered our food, sat, and ate.

"Look at that dude checking you out Faith." I said.

She looked up and looked at the guy.

"He is cute." he saw her staring and walked over with his friend.

"Hello ladies." he said.

"Hey." Faith said.

"I'm Lance and this Adam." he said pointing to his friend.

"Well, I'm Faith and this is Noami." she said.

"I like that name." he said feeling on me.

"Move!" I yelled then walked off.

He called me and grabbed my arm, pinned me up against his car and kissed my neck.

"Let her go!" Faith yelled.

"That's not our business." Lance said grabbing her arm.

I bit Adam's arm and Faith kicked Lance balls and we ran away.

I called Tray and told him to come and get us. When I told him what happen he was pissed off.

"You alright Noami?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I do need my car." I said.

They drove off to where I left my car and the guys were still there.

"Hey baby. I knew you'll be back." he said grabbing my waist.

"Dude, you got life fcked up." Tray said hopping out his truck.

CJ hopped out and so did Faith.

"Oh my CJ." Lance asked.

"You know me?" CJ asked.

"I mean yeah. My brother tryna get with you and yo boys." he confessed.

"Well, since you know me you know my boy Tray?"

"Yeah." Lance answered.

"I've been trying to get with him." Adam said.

"Well, y'all should know that, that little lady right there is all mine. And I mean all mine." Tray said.

"What that got to do with us?" they asked.

CJ and Tray looked at each other and pulled out their gun.

"What that got to do with you is that you about to lose yo life." Tray said.

"Come over here babe." Tray order me.

I walked over there and he pulled me behind him.

"Which one of these motherfckers put their hands on you?" he asked me.

I pointed at Adam and Tray pointed the gun at Adam's head.

"Pick a number between 1-10." he told Adam.

"Seven." he answered.

"That's how many bullets that's finna be in yo head." Tray pulling the safety off the gun.