Slick sat on the kitchen counter in the trap. His drank sat on one side of him, assault rifle on the other as he counted up. Slick had been at it for about eighteen hours straight and was more than ready to close shop and head home. Two of Slick's soldiers Primo and Jude were standing guard waiting for Slick to finish up his count so they could lock up.
One thing about Slick, he was one hustling muthafucka. He knew what if felt like to go to bed hungry and have no clue where his next meal would come from. Slick vowed to never witness days like that again, even if that meant hustling from sun up to sundown. Slick had to get it.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
His eyes were heavy, but Slick didn't trust anyone with his money. Present company included which was why his AR was aimed at his boys when someone knocked at the door.
Both men threw their hands up in surrender as Slick aimed his weapon in their direction. "Fuck is you on bruh?" Primo yelled out, eyes bucking wildly as his heart thumped wildly in his chest.
"Slick, put that shit down," Jude added in, two seconds away from pulling his own pistol. Slick was his boy and all, but Jude didn't play letting anyone draw down on him and walking away to talk about it.
The moment was intense, so he wouldn't take this personally. No one knew they were here.
"The fuck y'all got going on?" Slick asked, jumping down from the counter. Allowing his rifle to lead the way. "Move over there," He directed the men with his gun trained on them. Slick made his way over to the security monitors, but didn't see a car. "I don't see shit out of the ordinary," Slick whispered, causing both men to pull their guns.
The tension in the room grew thick as realization set in. Someone in the room was setting them up.
Slick's heartbeat quickened as adrenaline started to set in. He was no stranger to danger, but Slick did not want to die tonight, or any night. He had something to live for. All he could think of was his girl Amaya and their daughter Madison in this moment.
The knocking started up again followed by someone calling Slick's name. "P, it's me bruh."
Slick visibly relaxed as he sighed heavily lowering his weapon. "Chill, it's Dash." Slick told Primo and Jude. They kept their pistols by their sides. For all they knew Slick could have been setting them up.
Slick walked over to the front door and checked the peephole before allowing Dash inside. The two dapped hands once Dash stepped in.
"Fuck you doing here?" Slick asked, walking back into the kitchen. Dash followed close behind.
"I was in the neighborhood and needed to get at you about something." Dash responded.
"At 3 in the morning, that shit couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Slick frowned. Dash was his right hand, but the Cambridge's stayed with some shit going on.
Dash dapped up Primo and Jude before posting up against the counter. "Nah, it couldn't wait."
Primo shook his head while tucking his pistol back into the waist of his jeans. "Your ass was about to get your issue popping up like that fool. Next time call." He warned. Dash knew the game and understood the men's position. He didn't even take offense to their weapons being drawn.
