Chapter 42 SCOOTER
SCOOTER
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My body flung out of the car, slamming against the concrete as it drove off.
I had spent hours with Naheem, dealing with all his threats.
The nigga had completely lost his mind. He had gone from having his plans with Clark and Fiona to now wanting me to do a side job for him.
I stood up, dusting myself off as I limped up the driveway toward Bishop’s.
Karma had a way of showing her ass, and she was doing her big one.
I’ve always been a strong nigga, but I couldn’t deny that every day I dealt with this bullshit was breaking me.
It had gotten so bad that death seemed much more peaceful.
I wanted to call Morgan to at least let her know I was ok, but my phone was shattered and dead.
When I reached Bishop’s door, his dog barked just before I knocked. It was as if she could sense the hours I had spent sitting in that filthy building Naheem had taken me to. The door swung open, and Bleek was the one who answered. “Damn, you look like shit.”
I couldn’t even respond because the dog’s barking outweighed my thoughts. “Shut her ass!” I snapped.
Bishop appeared from his office, “Nigga, if you ever talk about my sweet girl like that, the last thing you’re going to be worried about is her bark!” he snapped.
He knelt and picked her up. “Come on, daddy’s sweet girl. Let me put you up before I have to kill a nigga,” he said as he disappeared from the foyer and came back moments later. “What’s up, Kareem? Keith’s at school.”
I ran my hand through my hair because what I was supposed to do was eating me alive.
My thoughts were beginning to blur. My emotions were at an all-time high, and I was simply tired.
Bleek and Bishop stared at me like I was crazy, and honestly, that’s how I felt.
My hands shook, and my eyes welled up. I reached behind my back and whipped out my gun, aiming it at both of them. “Man fuck!” I shouted.
They both pulled their guns, aiming at me.
It was two against one, and I didn’t even want to do this shit.
The tears I begged not to emerge, did. I rocked back and forth as the tears spilled from my eyes.
“You should have left me in that muhfucka!” I shouted at Bishop. “This shit is because of you!”
Bishop didn’t budge. He cocked his gun back, and I knew he had a hot one in the chamber. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but Kareem, nigga, you either pull that muhfuckin trigger or Keith’s going to be crying over your dead body because what the fuck!”
“Kill me then!” I shouted. “Do it!”
Bleek shook his head. “I don’t have time for this shit!”
Click, click.
I banged my fist against my head. What I really wanted was for them to shoot me, to put me out of my misery.
I began to mumble words that grew louder.
“All a nigga was trying to do was get up some money for my brother and me. Living in a bando with no food, shoes, and clothes raggedy as fuck. Daddy is dead, and my momma, shit, it’s clear the bitch was living a good life with Mr. Harrington. I—”
Bishop’s head flew back, “Hold the fuck on. Your moms were fucking with Symphony’s dad?”
“Isn’t that what I said! Who knew one night on some jack boy shit would lead to this? Your pops, that nigga is crazy, and whatever you niggas did, the shit didn’t work. He wants y’all dead. Did you hear that, huh, Bop? I said Naheem is alive, and he wants yo’ ass six feet in the fucking grave!”
No matter how much I tried to avoid the elite, they were like a plague. I began to pace the floor, more confused than when I was thrown out of Naheem’s fucking car. Bleek moved closer to me, “Don’t move, nigga!” I spat.
Bloaw!
Bishop shot, sending a bullet whistling past my head. “Next one, I won’t miss. Put that fucking gun down!” he shouted. “I want to know where Naheem is.”
Bleek ran his hand through his hair. “How is that nigga alive. I know I killed his ass.”
“Well, it’s clear he’s the goddamn devil because he’s still alive, and for whatever reason, I’m the fucking pawn. All because he got a nigga out of jail,” I muttered.
Bishop stepped forward, and I swung my gun his way. “Kareem, I can’t say I understand what you're going through because I don't; however, I do know I can try to make it better. Let me help you.”
My shoulders bounced up and down in defeat. “You know how many times I’ve heard that shit, and nothing has gotten better. I would never kill you, Bop. I wouldn’t because you saved my brother, it’s too bad I couldn’t be saved,” I said as I placed the gun in my mouth.
If I didn’t kill Bishop, then I was dead, and so was Morgan.
My brother would go unscathed but be kicked out of school and end up God knows where.
People always assume getting back on your feet is easy, but coming from where I did, it was like one in a million.
I knew there was no exit to the game but death.
I stood in the foyer with the cold steel in my mouth.
My hands shook, my heart raced, and all I could do was pray I would find peace after today.
“No!”
Bloaw!