Dangerous || MJ Fan Fiction

7.

***

Moesha and Sabrina sped off toward Michael's mansion with the hopes of getting Eric. They parked in the driveway and got to the front door. Moesha banged on it with her fist, yelling and screaming for someone to open it. When the door did open, Michael was standing there, his gun on his side.

"Ladies, I was not expecting company."

"Cut the bullshit! What did you do to my baby?" Moesha asked.

"Oh, you mean that lowlife who I allowed into my home? He's being taken care of right now," he replied with a snark.

"Michael, what are you going on about? What is happening?" Sabrina asked, eyeing the gun on his waist.

"Sabrina, baby, ain't nothing to worry about. Eric just needs to be taught a little lesson about stealing." Michael said.

"Eric? Do you mean my brother? He has never stolen anything a day in his life." Sabrina said, the anger slowly rising in her voice. "You better let him go."

"Or what? Still doesn't change the fact that he's a lying, two-faced rat. I couldn't care less if he was your brother. He stole something very important to me, and that can never be forgiven!" Michael's voice dropped a couple of octaves.

"Give him to me now! I want him back!" Moesha's face was stained with tears, and Sabrina had to hold her back. "I love him!"

"Miss, I appreciate your concern, but your boy needs that lesson, and I'm about to give it to him. Now, if you'll excuse me," Michael said as he started to close the door. Sabrina quickly stuck her foot out, causing the door to stay partially open as the girls fought their way inside.

"Eric! Eric, where are you?!" Moesha screamed through the halls. Sabrina followed after her while Michael stood by and watched them, smirking to himself and quickly calling one of his henchmen on his phone.

"Looks like we have intruders. They're after the traitor. You know what to do."

"You got it, Boss." a voice replied on the other end and quickly hung up.

Meanwhile, in the basement, Eric was struggling against the ropes that he was bound up within a chair next to a table of weapons. Freight Train hovered his hand over several of them before selecting a Glock 19. Draco stood off on the other side of the table watching him.

"Ayo, you know damn well I don't like this nigga, why do you get to kill him?"

"Because you get too trigger-happy." Freight Train replied. "Boss wanted him to have a slow, painful death."

"You too soft is what it is," Draco said. "You a big ass teddy bear."

"Shush, I'm trying to concentrate." Freight Train said as he put the Glock down and picked up a knife, which Eric looked on in terror.

"Guys, for the last time, I did not steal from the Boss! You gotta believe me!" he begged, looking at Freight Train.

"As much as I would like to believe you, that video is just way too convincing." Freight Train said. "Look, I'm sure you were a good kid before then, but I'm just following orders."

"Yeah, and you getting what your punk ass deserves," Draco replied.

"Go to hell, Draco!" Eric spat at him.

"You first, motherfucker!" Draco lunged at him, but Freight Train held him back with all his might.

"Eric! Eric, where are you?!" Moesha's voice rang through the basement. Draco looked back towards the staircase and scowled.