Ride Or Die Chick

Chapter 1

I continue to read the numbers of the apartment doors on the left silently, while Angel looks at the ones on the right. After about fifteen seconds Angel extends her arm out in front of me causing me to stop. She nods her head to a door on the right. "This one?" She asks, looking at a wooden door that had a golden plate number that read: 55.

"Yeah..." I smile, I look at her again and give her a look.

This was her last time to let me know if she was down or not. Once we kicked in his door there was no turning back. She nodded her head, so I quickly looked around again making sure the coast was clear before reaching behind me and taking my .45 Glock out from behind my back.

Angel followed suit, reaching for the 9mm I bought her last Christmas. It was originally for safety reasons, but it came in handy for things like this as well. She aimed the matte black gun at the lock, pulling the trigger without hesitation. When the bullet sounded I easily kicked the door open with a kick to detach the lock. One behind the other we came in like trained army veterans, crouched low with guns extended out in front of us.

"Oh shit!" Quanell shouted. He was sitting on his couch when we busted in. He hopped up when his front door fell to the ground and scrambled, knocking over a lamp on his coffee table as he tried to get to the back of his apartment.

Angel raised her 9mm but two bullets from my Glock were faster, folding him like a lawn chair. Before another second could past I was standing over him, pistol whipping him senseless. My methods of cruelty weren't for my entertainment, I got nothing out of it. It was just necessary so he wouldn't play games with me.

Quanell was screaming in agony as my gun kept coming down on his head over and over again. I wasn't even giving him a chance to say anything, I wanted him to understand I meant business in case he wanted to play. Quanell cried and pleaded with me to stop while I continued to beat him mercilessly. Some of his fingers were swollen and blue in color, since he'd been using his hands to block his head from my assault with the metal. I was about to bring it down on him again but decided he got the message after I've been at it for twenty seconds straight.

"Anyone else in here besides you?" I ask calmly.

He didn't answer right away, too busy crying in pain with two bullets lodged inside his right leg. He spat up some blood and replied in a raspy tone. "No..."

I glance over at Angel and watched her with the gun in her hand, aiming all over the apartment, waiting for anyone that might come from the back.

"Turn over." I say, pointing my gun at his head. He grit his teeth but managed to turn himself on his back. Once our eyes met, I continued. "Where's the money?" I wasn't aggressive and loud, I liked order and to be calm when I made my licks. Things ran much smoother when my head was leveled, whether the person was cooperating or not.

"I don't—"

A white spark followed by a bullet exiting my gun finds a home in Quanell's shoulder. He screams like he received a phone call that his mother passed.

"For your other shoulder's sake, I wouldn't start my sentence off with that word, again. Don't usually equals up to 'I don't have.' I don't like those words."

"Call an ambulance man...I'm dying!" He screamed, holding his bleeding shoulder.

It wasn't as gruesome as it sounded. He was bleeding a lot I wasn't denying that; blood was coming from underneath him from where I hit him twice in the leg and from the hole in his shoulder. His bloody mouth just added to the visuals, but none of it was life threatening injuries. Not yet.

"And I'll happily keep pumping more into you, until you bleed out. We can play this game all day, I promise you I'll win." I look over at Angel who's standing several feet away, looking at Quanell with a look of sympathy. I wave my gun to catch her attention. She looks over at me and we make eye contact.

"You looking lost over there, look around."

She nods her head, "Sorry." She says, jogging to the back.

I listened to her moving and tossing things left and right. I was so busy listening for what she was doing, I never noticed how quiet Quanell got. I look down at him to see his chest slowly rising up and down. His eyes were starting to roll to the back of his head and his blood seemed to be seeping out much quicker.

"Aye," I say roughly tapping his face with the back of my free hand. "wake up."

Quanell's eyes slowly opened but he was struggling to keep them that way. He was focusing on the hand that just woke him up, probably trying to keep focus or something. Angel was taking a long time and just as I was about to ask her what she was doing, her voice finally sounded.

"Money he has a safe back here!" She yelled.

Just the fear in his eyes would be enough for me to laugh if this was a different situation. He was bracing himself for another bullet or hit, but I just scowled at him, yanking him up by his collar. I keep the barrel of the gun pressed to the back of his head, as we walked to the back. Angel moved out the way when she saw us coming, so Quanell could type the combination in.

His whole shirt at this point was saturated in his own blood and he had to put one hand against the wall to keep himself steady. Quanell was yet another dealer we hit the jackpot with, I could already feel it. Angel and I studied our targets before we moved on them. All of the people we went after were rich in a sense of the word.

Hitting low level drug dealers were stupid, they had nothing. Big time dealers were the ones in the fancy cars, clothes and flashy jewelry. Nine times out of ten most of their wealth was kept exactly where they rested their heads. They couldn't go to the bank with it because they'd need to explain where the source of income came from. So instead, they kept their riches in the house with them. It was just a matter of hoping the FEDS or people like me didn't bust in and get too it.

"Hurry up." I say raising my voice, feeling like he was taking a little too long to open the safe.

He looked over his shoulder at me, as if he was thinking about telling me he didn't remember the passcode. I said nothing however, I'd let whatever lie he wanted to tell come out his mouth, he'd just feel another bullet. It was as if he read my mind—or the pain he was feeling was a reminder I wasn't one who just liked to hear myself talk; because he suddenly took less than three seconds to type the code in on the keypad. I crack him in the head with the gun, knocking him out cold.

Angel's eyes open wide, scanning the dead presidents tucked neatly in the safe. I looked around the messy bedroom and located a bunch of suitcases. I took a medium sized one and empty all the contents from it as Angel and I packed all the money in it. There was barely space left to zip the luggage up. It happened to be just enough, because we cleaned the safe out.

I made sure to double check and put my hand inside to feel around. I felt something at the very back and grabbed it. I pulled out a black Ruger SR9. It looked brand new, he was probably thinking about using it on me while he was stalling in front of the safe.

I check the chamber to see four bullets still inside. I quickly stuff it on the opposite side of my hip from my Glock and picked up the handle with the luggage full of money.

"Let's get out of here." Angel mumbled, rubbing her arms up and down like she was cold.

I started to follow her out but stopped, turning back to a sleeping Quanell who laid motionless and bloody on the ground. "It's always dummies like you. If you don't want your shit to get taken, stop advertising it." I might've been a stick up kid, but I was no killer, which is the only reason I didn't finish him off. I leave his faith to God as I walk out his room and his apartment, never looking back.