Game Recognize Game

19. Rock Em' To Sleep: Part 1

     Poochie looked at me, and I nodded for him to keep his eyes straight. "Y'all ain't been here in months, what the fuck you need patnah'? You want to spit the same bullshit to my mom's, because she ain't here. Why don't you get out there and do your job," the kid they called Buster yelled! I haven't been able to rest easy with him being out here gunning for my head. He'd left a bad taste in my mouth when he acted out around James, and I really did hate rowdy ass little niggas trying to make it to the big time. They were always the first to start blasting, and were dumb enough to bring unnecessary casualties into it too.

     "We have a witness attesting to your brothers stabbing. If you open the door, I can come in and talk to you about the case. We want to reopen it," Poochie spoke professionally but I clenched my jaw, because he had fucked up. Buster's brother was shot not stabbed, and that type of shit a person can never forget. I took a long deep breath and looked at Poochie, as the noise behind the door stopped. I knelled down and pressed my ear to the door, and I swear I could hear a gun cock. "You got a badge," Buster asked? Poochie looked back to me, and I gritted my teeth. If Buster wasn't as dumb as I thought he was he'd caught on already. Poochie didn't seem to realize his ass was on the line if he fucked up. "Now are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to go get a warrant and sweep this whole place," Poochie grinned, no doubt giving himself some mental retribution.

         "Aight man come in," Buster said, starting to open the door. Knowing that he might have a gun cocked and loaded, I put all my strength into my hand and pushed the door back with Buster still behind it, knocking him on his ass. I stood in the doorway of the apartment, and looked at the graze the bullet left on the wood only six inches away from me. "You alright," I called to Poochie looking down at Buster, whose nose was broken. It's a good thing I went with my gut! "Yeah," Poochie said shakily. "Man, what the fuck! Y'all aint no cops," he barked holding his nose and trying to slide back to the wall, where his gun was now resting. "You wouldn't have tried to shoot no fucking cop puta! Don't put on no act with me," I barked pulling out my own gun. "Pick his ass up," I ordered to Poochie, as I closed and locked the door.

       "Man, what the fuck is this about," he scowled at me. I take off my dark shades, and his eyes light up with recognition. "The Green Eyed Monster," he chuckled to himself. "And here I thought you didn't have the balls," he continued. I smiled at him and leaned against the door, all the while taking my silencer out of my pocket and twisting it onto my gun. "I told you I'd see you again, and I always keep my promises. Now, this can go two ways," I started but he interrupted me! "Fuck you," he barked, spitting in my face. I hated when niggas did that! "Kill me already patnah'," Buster finished. I walked up on him as Poochie held his arms behind his back, and punched him right in the bridge of his broken nose! He grinded his teeth and groaned out loudly in pain, but he at least tried to endure the hit. "Now, I could stay here and wait for your mother to get off her shift and see if she knows anything about what you and James have been up too, or you could just let me know something right now. Either way you are going to die though," I informed him.

     Buster's face went ghost white at the mention of his mother, but I didn't care. I ripped off a piece of his shirt and wiped off my face with it. "Choose number one or number two," I asked? "I hope my nigga puts your ass in a grave real soon, and I'll be waiting in hell for you nigga," he swallowed hard. I nodded, and had to smile genuinely because the little nigga had balls. Nodding to Poochie, he released Buster, throwing him to the ground. Buster, quickly tried making his way to his weapon, but I kicked him in his stomach. He rolled over into a ball like he'd just had the breath kicked out of him. "We'll do this your way then," I said, done with negotiations. I grabbed him by his short dreads, and dragged him into the bathroom. "Get off me," he kicked and growled the whole way there. I was glad his mouth was still open when I pushed his face into the toilet bowl.