Ecstasy- Rapper imagines

Trust No One prt 1- lil baby

Gunshots ring throughout the whole house. I bite my tongue and try my hardest to stay low. Dom ain't want nothing bad to happen to me so he made me go through drills. Shoot out drills, robbery drills, interrogation drills. You name a situation, I promise I know how to get out of it. Well at least get out of it alive.

I go into my secret hiding place, which is actually my bedroom closet. Sounds like some white shit but really it's not. Dom got this shut packed wit guns of every kind. Dom took me on shooting drills all the time too. Sometimes he would attack me outta the blue to see what I would do, after removing the bullets outta the gun he gave me right before.

I grab one of his guns, and load it. Dom never let me leave a gun loaded for nothing, scared that I would hurt myself or "give the gun too much control." He told me if I loaded the gun I would feel like I'm in control. And he was right. I feel like one of them badasses off of them heist movies- something that Dom forced me to watch all the time.

Dom taught me about guns. I know every one, how they sound, how to shoot it, what the bullets look like and how much damage they do. Dom is a strong believer in "bullets have no name" so he made me work on how to aim every single one of them. I've never killed anybody. I've never shot anybody, and because confidence starts off as affirmation; I'm ready to.

The door suddenly swings open and I aim at the person there, trigger ready to be pulled. The person stands there, and shuts on the light. Because of my height, I can't see the face first. All I see is a shirt covered in blood and a glock 19 in that person's hand.  The person's hand starts to rise. Fear spreads through my body so quickly.

Don't get me wrong, I've come face to face with danger before. I'm dating a gang member. Drive by after drive by, robbery after robbery, fight after fight. It's just that, Dom is always there. And when Dom is there i don't need to protect myself. And if I shoot this person, and kill him- that's another mother crying over her misguided son. I've seen it happen to so many mothers of fellow members of Dom's Gang.

I can't do that to somebody's child.

I look up, to examine the face of the man I'm gonna kill or the man that's gonna kill me. The dread head that stands in front of me isn't a murder, but the man that will one day be the death of me.

"Oh my gosh, Dom," I say, placing the gun down.

He places his hand on his lips and shushes me, closing the door. He hands me the gun and I grab the bullets to load it again.

"Ion know if I got them all," he says, aching from every part of his body. I turn him in my direction and examine his body.

"Baby," I say, placing my hand on his stomach. "You been shot."

He looks down as if he didn't know, and is shocked to see the bullet wound surrounded by blood. "Ian even feel that shit. I was just tryna make sure you was ight, Ian even realize they got me."

"We needa get to the bathroom so I can clean this up," I say, grabbing a shirt and applying pressure.

"Nah, I put one of them aid kits in here," he says, reaching up. He instantly winces in pain.

"I got it," I say, reaching up to grab it, but I'm way too short. He tries again and succeeds, wincing even more. I sit him down on a pile of clothes and rip his shirt open. "Damn."

"You supposed to be taking out the bullet, not getting horny," he says, chuckling. I roll my eyes and get out the tweezers to remove the bullet. Once they enter, Dom shifts and sucks his teeth.

"Keep still," I say sternly and get back to work. I finally get it and pull it out, handing it to Dom.

"What gun?"

"Beretta, .40," I respond, grabbing needle and thread to stitch him up.

"No it's not," he says, showing the bullet to me. I examine the shape, the color, and the carvings. This shit belongs to a Beretta.

"It's a Beretta," I say again. I begin the stitches and he winces again. I grab his right hand and place it on my shoulder. He grips it as I continue to stitch.

"You sure," he asks again. I stop and examine the bullet. I look at him confused. What am I missing? "How many times have you used that damn Beretta? How many times did I make you clean them bullets? And you still don't know what the fuck it looks like."

"Baby-"

"What I told you about questioning yourself? You was right the first time," Dom says, throwing the bullet down. "You can't do that shit no where."

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck that apology. I'm tryna keep you safe outcha," he responds as I finish the stitches.

"I'm done," I say, putting everything back and wiping the wound with a alcohol pad.

"Come ya," he orders. I listen and come towards him. He pulls me into him and puts his hands on my hips. "Imma do whatever I can to protect you. I just want you to be able to protect yourself too, just in case Ian there."

"Just in case you get killed," I say. He nods his head and grips my face wit his hand.

"I want you to be ight, even when a Nigga not here."

"I will be," I say, pecking his lips.

"Coast is clear yall," we hear Shockah yell. Just as Dom goes to open the door, there is Shockah and with a group of niggas holding a gun at us.