I tucked the doll back into my jacket and walked out.
Ares was right behind me.
“We gotta make Devon come outside.”
That made him glance at me. “What you thinking?”
I stared ahead.
“Message.”
He nodded. “What kind?”
“Compton. We dropping the niggas that chose his side. My folks told me who been trying to go against me for Devon. Ain’t nobody gon’ live taking his side.”
Ares nodded. “Bet. But after this, you’re coming back to France with me. Go see ya wifey and kid. Clear ya head.”
I had to agree with that, because after I chilled in France, it was about to get ugly for niggas.
$$$$$
The trap house sat in the heart of Compton, on a backstreet off 122nd.
Lights on.
Old school music loud.
Cars out front like it was just another night.
Like they ain’t know I was coming to be reckless.
We didn’t knock.
I pushed the door open.
Walked straight in.
Ares a step behind me.
Watching.
Letting me lead.
Familiar faces looked up.
Confused and tense.
“Zay—what—” one of my cousins tried to say.
Too late.
Everything after that was quick.
No yelling.
No hesitation.
Just action.
