I've been home, crying for a long time. But after awhile, I realized that I had to find out who did this. I thought about it for a few minutes. Either Trey did it, paid somebody to do it, or somebody from Miami found out where he was.
I came to the conclusion that Trey paid somebody. It didn't take that long to figure it out; Trey's was too scary to pull a trigger, even if he wanted to. His family had money, he had to pay somebody.
I just need to figure out how I'll go about it. I remembered that I took Vince's phone home with me. I got up and went to the living room.
Unlocking the phone, I went to the contacts. He only had seven. Most were family and me. The only one that wasn't was somebody under the contact name "Trap" and I don't think I met him before. I went to the messages to see if they had a real, honest friendship. They seemed like they were close. I don't know if Trap knew Vince was dead, I sent him a message to find out.
He replied with, "wassup, Bro?"
Nah, He doesn't know.
I told him that Vince was drunk and that he forgot his address. He sent it quick. Then he sent, "you don't even drink, foo'." But by then, it was too late.
I don't trust nobody. So, I went to my dad's safe, unlocked it & took out two pistols.
I hopped in the truck and followed the directions I was given. It took a couple of minutes to get there, but when I did, I parked my truck a couple blocks away in case he decided to try some stupid shit. Putting my hand in my pocket where one of the pistols were, I ran up to the door of his house.
He opened it. I took a pistol out. He pointing a gun at me.
We just looked at each other.
"Who the fuck is you?" He asked, still pointing the gun.
"Diamond, Vince's girl. Now, if you don't plan on using that gun, you better put it down."
He did. I put mine down, too.
"Vince-Vince got killed," I tell him.
He punched the wall, putting a hole in it.
"What?! When? Why? Where? How? Who did it? Fuck!"
"The other day. Somebody came to his house and they started shooting. I don't know who did it. That's what I'm here for," I tell him, trying not to cry.
"You think I had something to do with it?!"
"Nah. I went through his phone and saw that you was the only dude he talked to. I didn't tell you that he died then because I needed your address. I need you to help me," I explain as tears came down my face.
He didn't say anything. I decided to speak. "You in?"
"Yeah, what I gotta do?" He asked.
"I'll tell you later. You ain't getting paid, though," I had to let him know beforehand.
"I wasn't gonna ask. That was like my brother."
We walked to my truck and I told him the plan.
"We doing this now?" He asked.
"Nah. Tomorrow. Now, get out my car, I gotta go. Be ready when I come back," I tell him.
Let the games begin.