𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗚𝗢, 𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗜𝗦
-
𝗡𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟴, 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯
Von shot an annoyed look at his sister.
"Why you looking at me like that?" Kayla questioned, rolling her eyes at her brother. Von mugged her. "You were supposed to get the drop on Duck but here you are, laughing in bitch nigga Nardo's face."
Kayla rolled her eyes again. "First of all, Dayvon, I know where Duck is at," she spoke, pulling out a piece of paper from her jacket pocket. "He be at the store on 6th street, him and his niggas."
Von nodded in understanding, taking the paper from his sister. "Also, Dayvon, Nardo ain't no bitch. Watch your tone," Kayla warned, prompting Von to click his tongue in annoyance, "His name is Horace. He's a bitch. Now get the fuck out."
The girl left, mumbling something on her way out. Von couldn't care less. He didn't really mess with his sister like that anymore. Not after she got involved with the niggas trying to kill him. Not only that, she was screaming 'Fuck O'Block,' and he didn't appreciate that.
Sure, they talked from time to time, but he didn't have time for her annoying, hoe ass.
-
The time read '6 PM.' Von had been waiting outside the address Kayla gave him, anticipating his target's arrival.
Finally, he spotted the hefty figure known as 'Duck' approaching, a sinister grin of satisfaction on his face. Von relished the prospect of putting one of his many rivals to rest.
Von emerged from behind the car he had been using as cover. The teenager wore a black hoodie, paired with jeans and white Air Forces.
He didn't bother with a mask; there was no fear of his face being recognized. Who was gonna stop him? Nobody.
Dayvon moved forward, gun concealed in the pocket of his hoodie.
Von's gaze fixed on Duck, whose back was turned to him. 'Fuck this,' Von thought, swiftly retrieving the gun from his pocket and raising it, aiming directly at Duck's head.
'𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗠!'
The gun discharged; satisfaction painted Von's face as he watched the body slump. The teenager didn't linger, immediately sprinting away as shots rang out, narrowly missing him.
As he ran, the wailing sirens pierced through the night. He swore under his breath, heart pounding in his chest.
-
Von's sneakers pounded against the pavement, each step fueled by urgency. The persistent wail of sirens only quickened his pace, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Rounding the corner, he spotted a boy at a nearby door. The distress on his face was evident, and their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
As Von spots the boy waving towards him, he slows his pace. "Hurry up!" the boy urges, and Dayvon sprints towards the house, silently thanking his lucky stars for this unexpected help.
Once inside the house, Von collapsed to the floor. His forehead was drenched with a mixture of sweat and water. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, focusing on the male who was looking the door.
"Do you still have your gun?" the unknown male asked, his voice soft yet tinged with a rough edge. Before answering, Von studied the man's appearance. He was dressed in a black hoodie, similar to Von's own, along with grey sweatpants and crocs on his feet.
Von let out a small smile, glancing down at the gun still nestled in his hoodie pocket. "You already know," he replied. The male nodded, indicating that Von could get off the floor and sit on the couch.
Dayvon nodded, doing as he was told. He watched the male walk out of the room. 'Damn, he's fine as hell,' echoed in his head.
The house was dimly lit. "Here," the male returned with a glass of water. "Thank you," Von accepted the water and took a sip.
The male stared at him as he guzzled the glass of water. Von placed the half-drunk water down on the table in front of him.
"My name's Von," he spoke to the boy who was still staring at him. "I know, you're a rapper. I'm not slow, nigga."
Von sucked his teeth, "I'm from the O," the words left his lips as the male checked his phone. "I know," he replied, briefly looking up at Von before returning his gaze to the phone.
"Don't worry, you good. The cops stopped checking, well at least 'round here," The male assured him. "My name's Kentrell, by the way."
Von nodded. "You got a coat I can wear?" Kentrell looked at him with a hint of confusion before nodding. He stood from the couch and headed upstairs.
It only took a second or two before Kentrell returned, coat in hand. "Thanks, Li' Mama," Von expressed his gratitude as Kentrell handed him the coat.
Kentrell let out a laugh at the pet name. "Li' Mama is crazy, but you're welcome, Von."
Dayvon liked the way he laughed. "Do you live alone?" he questioned, causing the male to stop in his tracks. "No, I got a son, he's not here right now though, thank God."
Kentrell walked back to his seat on the couch, settling in beside Von, who simply hummed at the information.
"How old are you? You look young as hell," Von commented, earning a chuckle from Trell. "I'm 17, but I got a question for you," he spoke, his laughter gradually fading away before coming to a complete stop.
"What?" Dayvon said, his attention completely on the younger. "You a rapper right?"
"Yeah, you know that," Von laughed. poking fun at the comment that the other teen had spoken earlier.
Rolling his eyes, Kentrell continued his question, "Nigga, why are you running from the cops? I don't know what you did, but if you're a rapper making money, why are you running from the cops?"
Von smacked his teeth. "I killed someone. I started running when I heard sirens," he spoke, shrugging his shoulders, seemingly indifferent to the fact that he had just essentially incriminated himself.
Kentrell eyes widened a little bit, but before he could speak again his phone ranged, Von got a look at his phone screen which read, '𝟭𝟬💚' the boy answered quickly.
Von watched as the male excused himself to take the phone call.
Dayvon stood up from the couch, taking this as his chance to look around.
He noticed pictures of Kentrell and a little boy, which he assumed was Trell's son. They looked exactly alike.
"What are you doing?" Von turned his attention towards Kentrell's voice, thick with a southern accent that Von had noticed before. 'He's not from Chicago,' Von mused to himself.
"Lookin' around," he said, smiling at Kentrell. "Your son looks just like you." He added, making Kentrell nod. "I would hope so." Von chuckled at that.
The two made it back to the couch, sitting down. "My son likes your music," Kentrell said once they were finally settled. "Really? He looks like a newborn in that picture over there," Von spoke with a laugh, causing Kentrell to suck his teeth.
"He's one, and he starts dancing when I play your music." Ken says, smiling. "You cute when you smile or laugh, Li' Ma."
Kentrell shook his head, "Thanks Dayvon," Von sucked his teeth, "Dayvon? Hmm' you calling me my full name now? We just met baby." The teen rolled his eyes, in fake annoyance. "Nigga, you literally told me that you killed someone not too long ago, also your name is on Google, dumbass."
Before Von could say anything back, there was a knock on the door, causing both of them to freeze. The knock was forceful.
"Who the fuck is that?"
-
Do you guys like it so far? Even tho this is the second chapter.