Fatal Addiction [discontinued]

Chapter 15

Same day/night as chapter 14.

August

I grabbed my phone, my keys and my strap, “I’ll be back lata’ Kay. I got some shit ta handle.”

"Is it gonna take long?" she pouted and grabbed my arm. I shrugged.

"I dunno. Maybe."

Giving her a side hug, I walked out of the house and didn’t leave until I heard the door lock. I don’t need no nigga breaking into my crib. Especially with Kayla in it.

I stepped into my black Lambo because that’s just what I felt like driving. Tonight was not a good night.

I just got a call that one of my niggas, Lo, got shot in a drive-by put together by a small little drug dealer’s crew around the block. Niggas wanna fuck with my squad? They asked for the shit that’s about to happen to ‘em.

See, I’ve known Khari for maybe seven going on eight years. I started calling him Lo after about six months because that niggas eyes were always low when I saw him and it just stuck. No one calls him by his real name anymore.

I pulled up to the warehouse where I usually ‘handle business’ and got out of my car with the quickness.

My crew caught one of the niggas that shot him while ole dude was walking around on our turf. He must’ve thought we ain’t know who the fuck did this shit but that was his mistake.

Now he’s gonna pay for the work of him AND his team.

I busted through the door and immediately yelled, “WHERE DA FUCK IS THIS BITCH AHH NIGGA?!”

One of my assistants handed me my leather gloves and some pliers.

Walking up to the nigga strapped down in the chair, I held my tools behind my back. “What’s ya name son?” I spoke in a calm tone.

He spit on my floors, “Raymond.”

He looked at me up and down like he was the nigga that got these pliers in his hand and a gun on his hip. I chuckled.

"Aight Raymond, I’ma only ask this once. Who ya work fo’?"

Before I knew it, spit was chucked up and sent at me. I looked down and that shit got on my fucking Jays.

"Do ya wanna lose that fuckin’ tongue bitch? I’m try’na be nice. Now I’ma say this again and only this time. Who da fuck do yo bitch ass work fo’?

His head turned away from me and his jaw clenched.

I immediately grabbed his chin so that his mouth would open up. Pulling out one of his front teeth, he screamed out in pain followed by me hitting him in the face with the pliers.

"Excuse meh but i’on think I fuckin’ heard that name clearly?"

As I saw the blood pour out of his mouth, I couldn’t help but feel some kind of euphoria. Payback is a bitch.

Pulling out yet another one of his teeth, he cried in agony. This shit was kind of fun. I’ve never really had to torture a nigga to this extent; I usually get what I want.

"Look nigga, i’on have time fo’ this shit! TELL MEH WHO DA FUCK YA WORK FO’ OR I’M TAKIN’ OFF A FINGER!"

I placed a freshly sharpened knife by his finger, “This is gonna be real slow…”

Before I got a chance to dig my knife deep into his skin, he screamed out, “OKAY! Okay, I’ll tell you who I work for.”

"I’m waitin’," I stated impatiently.