Product Of The Street : Union City Book 4 (Product Of The Street: Union City) by Bowser E

Author:Bowser, E.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

Fransisco ‘Faxx’ Wellington

These niggas ain’t got no fucking idea the shit they just brought on themselves. I stood next to Link as he typed on his laptop and watched Oz as he dragged the nigga I shot in the knee onto his Butcher block. I had no idea why Rodney was at the funeral unless he was salty about the bodies not being in the bay.

“Ahh! Fuck y’all niggas! I ain’t telling you shit! Fuck Union,” the man shouted. I knew something was up when I saw a few people enter and leave the funeral. Their movements and mannerisms were off, but the appearance of Rodney threw me off. It very well could have been his attempt at trying to get someone in on the inside to find out exactly what happened with Milo. No one knew he was there that night of the mass shooting or any real idea how he’d died. Roman came to the funeral searching for answers or evidence because everything he was trying to do was failing. But I really figured shit was up when I noticed another small gathering at a few graves around the cemetery. The spacing and position the parties were in had us almost surrounded. Before we made it to the grave, I had that boxed-in feeling I knew all too well.

“Fuck Union, my nigga? What the fuck makes you think I need you to tell me shit! Henny, did you hear me ask this nigga a question?” Oz boomed.

“Naw, I didn’t hear shit,” Henny answered. I looked at my watch and set a time that I would need to make my way to Henny’s spot. Crescent wasn’t too happy about me leaving after that bullshit, but she got it. There was no way things could go unanswered after this disrespectful ass shit.

“Wait! Wait a minute. What the fuck are you—no! No!” The man screamed again. I looked up to see Oz raise his cleaver in the air, and it came down, cutting through the man’s arm in one smooth motion.

“Did you fucking wait before you started shooting? Shooting at a place where my pregnant wife was at? Naw, my nigga, I need no words from none of y’all niggas. I need blood for that,” he said, turning to look at the others.

The high-pitched scream of pure pain filled the room. The blood from the lost arm sprayed Oz’s crisp white dress shirt but blended in nicely with his tie. Henny reached over with his sleeves rolled up with his black latex gloves covering his hands. He tied a tourniquet above the wound before reaching for the blow torch.

“Fuuuuccckkk! Ahh! Ahh! Wh-wh—ahhhh.”

“Why the fuck are you screaming? It’s only right that we take that arm since it’s the one you used to shoot with,” Henny confirmed. “I mean, you are the one whose shots were so fucked up that you hit the fucking casket. You desecrated the body of someone from U.C.K.,” Henny exploded.

“Ple…I…I’ll…. I will tell you anything,” the man cried.

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