Bury Me a G 3: Crucified by Da Streets by Tranay Adams

Author:Tranay Adams [Adams, Tranay]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Urban Life, United States, African American, Urban
Amazon: B014RWVKLO
Publisher: Lock Down Publications
Published: 2015-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

***

If Wicked was going to track down Don Juan then he was going to need some information on him. The only person he knew that could help him was this BBW he used to knock down back in high school by the name of Diana. Diana was a fairly attractive, brown-skinned chick with eyes the color of almonds and a short haircut. She’d been in love with Wicked’s crazy ass since middle school. He was her first love and she was his first nut. She fell in love while he fell in lust. But how couldn’t he? She had a sex game like a porn star and an ass he could hitch a trailer on.

Wicked circled the block of the Hope Street Department of Motor vehicles four times looking for a parking space. Figuring he’d have better luck laying low inside of the parking lot and waiting for someone to leave, he drove back and did just that. It was taking a while so he sparked up the pinch of blunt he had left in the ashtray. As he sucked on the end of it, smoke manifested, filling the interior of the car with a foul stench. He cracked a window to let a little cool air inside. He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes seeing an old Chevy pickup backing out of its parking stall. A crooked grin formed on his lips and he flicked the piece of the blunt out of the window, sending embers flying. He cranked up the engine and was about to swoop into the stall once the pickup was gone. He got about five feet away when an Infinity truck with blaring speakers slid right inside and murdered its engine.

“No the fuck this nigga didn’t.” Wicked couldn’t believe he’d gotten jacked for his stall. He squared his jaws as lines formed across his forehead, hopped out of his ride and approached the driver just as he was getting out of the SUV. He was a tall light-skinned nigga rocking an LA snapback and light jewels.

“Say, homeboy, you didn’t see me waiting to get this spot?” Wicked dripped with attitude, just waiting for old boy to pop off at the mouth.

“Yeah and?” He looked him up and down like ‘Nigga what the fuck you gone do?’

Wicked took a deep breath and thumbed his nose, thinking clearly, this dude doesn’t know who I am. He lifted his shirt and revealed that thang-thang on his waistline. The sight of that steel made the bitch bleed up out of homeboy, his eyes got big and his mouth trembled. He kept his eyes on the weapon as he raised his hands, swallowing the nervousness in his throat, knowing a parking spot wasn’t worth his life. There was something about the look in Wicked’s eyes that let him know he’d have no problem taking it there.

“Say, say, say, bro, I…”

“Get cho punk ass in the car and get up outta here!”

Smack!

His ashy palm went upside his head. He ducked back inside of his truck and backed out.

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