“Ya’ll niggas bring it in,” I called everyone else over.
Bray was in here, Kendrick, Duke, and a few of my other top dogs. I gave my speech, letting them know that I didn’t want to leave this motha fucka until I saw Elijah down on his ass, no longer breathing. I kept repeating that.
I was sick and tired of playing with that nigga. I underestimated him, feeling like I had other important shit that I needed to deal with, so he was able to slip right through the cracks, and shoot my brother. I’ve spared him for too long. I had to make that fuck nigga stop breathing tonight.
“Ya’ll know my motto. Do what the fuck ya’ll gotta do to stay alive. I got too much shit going on to be going to a funeral,” I voiced, and everybody nodded their heads, agreeing with what I was saying.
It didn’t take long for us to hit that corner, and the moment quickly came that we’ve all been waiting for…
Back To Elijah
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Get the fuck down! Everybody get the fuck down!” one of Elias good friends, Romeo called out. His loud outburst had gotten everyone’s attention. Everyone originallyhad their heads down, just finishing up this last moment of silence, when Romeo suddenly yelled out.
Instantly, I reached for my gun, pulling it out, and when I looked out into the distance, there were four white vans pulling up. Niggas started piling out of those vans like roaches, and without giving any speeches, or letting us know why they were here, they instantly started spraying.
“Pow! Pow! Rat-tat! Pop! Pop!”all kinds of bullets from different guns flew our way.
The bullets from their guns were coming out quickly, so I knew that each of them had switches on their shit. Me, and every man that was here were all strapped, so we shot back, trying to get our rounds out too. At the same time, we were trying to duck and lay low from the bullets that were flying our way.
I knew I was the main nigga that they had come looking for. I knew I was. All of them had ski mask on, covering up their faces, but I knew this was Dolo’s doing. That’s the way him, and his crew moved. This was the same way that they’d come to my drop that evening, killing my men, and taking my shit. Him, and his crew were the only people in Miami that I knew were bold enough to do some wild shit like this.
This is why I never wanted to have this candlelight to begin with. I was outvoted though. The family thought that we should do it. I had this feeling in my gut that Dolo was going to somehow find a way to get the address to this warehouse, that was supposed to be confidential, and it sucked that I was right all along.
Bullets were flying quickly, and I was watching niggas drop like flies. Still shooting, but keeping my head low, I was able to run for safety, going over to a statue picture of my great- great grandfather. I was down on my knees, with a Glock in my hands, only trying to shoot at niggas that I knew I could get. I didn’t want to waste bullets.
I was able to duck for over here for about five minutes. I thought shit was sweet, and that I was going to make it out of here alive, but a bullet pierced my hand, making me drop my gun. The shot came from behind me, and when I turned around, it was a small figure standing back there. I knew the figure belonged to a woman. She was dressed in a black catsuit, with a bedazzled ski mask on her head. She held that Draco in her hand, like she was ready to use it.
“When I came home from jail, you told me that I picked the wrong side. Looks like I picked the right side, nigga!” it was Riot’s voice, standing over me with the Draco in her hand.
Before I even had the chance to say anything back to her, someone from her crew rushed over, and because I hated this nigga the way that I did, and I’ve been beefing with him for so long, I knew that even with the person covered in all black, with their ski mask over their head, that this was Dolo.
He didn’t even leave me guessing because he removed the ski mask with his free hand. His other hand held the AK. There was a smile on his face, as he wickedly raised the gun, and on some disrespectful shit, he shot the statue that was behind me of my great- great grandfather.
“I don’t even know why they spent money and made that bullshit ass statue. Weak ass crew. After I’m done killing you, we going to burn this shit to the ground!” he said it in a joking kind of way.
I already knew that I was getting ready to die, so there was no need for me to sit here and play nice with him. If I was going to die, I was going to talk my shit first.
“We ain’t that weak nigga. We were able to get at your brother,” I shot, and he laughed.
“Yeah, but we got the kind of blood that’s mixed with steel. Where my brother at right now? Laid up in the hospital, recovering. Where your twin at? In a freezer somewhere,prepared to get put in the dirt tomorrow. My bitch shot him with her everyday gun. That wasn’t even her most powerful weapon. Hoe ass nigga couldn’t sustain the bullets from that little ass .380. Like I said, you and your crew weak!” he roared, picking the gun up, and he aimed it at my head.
I accepted my fate. I took a deep breath, as him, and his bitch stood over me, and they let that shit ring.
“Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat”.
The race was over. I put up one hell of a fuckin fight, but my time had finally run out.
Chapter 18
Dominique ‘Dolo’ Shaw
“You’re struggling because you trying to walk all gangsta and shit. Nigga, you gotta walk normal. You gotta slowly ease back into the gangsta walk. That’s not going to happen right now. You in a hospital. Ain’t nobody in here that you gotta impress,” I talked shit to my little brother, as I stood in the far corner of his hospital room, with my phone in my hands, recording him, and the slow progress that he was having with the physical therapist.
He was in his hospital gown, but he made sure that I had it tied super tight at the back, saying how he didn’t want anyone seeing his ass. He was in hospital socks, with the grips on the bottom, so that he didn’t slip. He stood there on legs that were a little weak because he had still been complaining about some of the pain that he was in. There was an IV pole to the right of him, and it’s what he was holding onto, so that he could take small, baby steps.
The physical therapist was standing right there to the side of him, keeping one hand near his back, just in case he stumbled a little bit. She would be right there to hold him up.
The doctor had already informed us that Diego’s recovery was going to take time, and judging by the way he was moving, I already knew that he was telling the truth. His movement was very slow. It was hard for him to stand straight up, so he was hunched over a little bit. The doctor wanted him out of bed today. He explained to us yesterday that he was going to start his sessions with the physical therapist today, saying that moving his body around would help keep his blood flowing, help his lungs recover, and strengthen him back up. Diego had to complete this shit in order for him to go back home.
