Me and My Hittas 2 by TRANAY ADAMS

Author:TRANAY ADAMS [ADAMS, TRANAY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Bully looked both ways before jogging across the street from the trap house. He hopped into the car where Thangz eagerly awaited him and slammed the door closed. He turned around to her with three nickel rocks in his palm. She looked from the rocks to him and then back again.

“Is that all?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, disappointed.

“Fuck you mean is that all?” Bully snapped, twisting his face. She had some fucking nerves. “Bitch, you’ve been smoking good and plenty these past few months. On my dollar I may add. And you gots the audacity to turn your nose up?” Thangz just stared at the three pebbles of crack in Bully’s dry, ashy palm. “Fuck it, more for me.” He said. Before he could close his palm, Thangz snatched one of the rocks and grabbed one of the scarred, glass pipes from the ashtray. “Fucking crackhead.” He shook his head, watching her light up.

“Nigga, I ain’t no crackhead,” She snaked her neck with attitude. “If I’ma crackhead, then ya momma’s a mothafucking crackhead, alright?”

“Whatever, bitch, you smoke more than I do.” Bully claimed as he took the other crack pipe from the ashtray. After depositing crack inside, he lit up the pipe and took a long pull. As soon as he blew smoke a cherry red Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle zipped passed him, its engine squealing loudly. He looked out his side view mirror and saw two black leather clad men wearing helmets on the bike. Fucking fags, he thought as he shook his head, seeing the man on the back of the motorcycle hanging on like he was some broad. He was about to take another pull when the Ninja came blowing past on the sidewalk.

“What the hell is wrong with these fools?” Thangz asked annoyed, scrunching up her nose.

“I don’t know but these mothafuckaz are ruining my high.” Bully kept his eyes on the motorcyclists as he pulled his strap from underneath the seat and laid it on his lap. “If they come by here again, I’m a let’em hold this whole mothafucking clip.”

Suddenly, the back window of the Chrysler exploded as bullets sprayed though it, chewing up the back of the front seats along with its passengers. Blood splattered everywhere as hot lead spewed through the 300, tattering it and its occupants. The last spent shell-casings from an automatic weapon pinged off of the ground like loose change, smoke rising from their hollow endings.

A disoriented and bloody Bully looked over to Thangz; half her head was missing and her face held the mold of someone attempting to scream. Knowing that there wasn’t anything that he could do for his lady, he swung open the door and the car vomited him into the street. He landed on the surface hard and grimaced, spitting blood and mucus as he struggled to his hands and knees, slicing up his palms on the broken glass that littered the streets.

Vrooooooom!

Bully could hear the squealing of the Kawasaki Ninja as it neared him.

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