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“I don’t mind paying full price.” Toya bit her bottom lip revealing every lustful thought in her head.
“Hmm, get ready. This won’t take long,” she replied, pushing the door open.
Toya kept her word. It didn’t take long before she texted me the information I requested. There were two-armed security guards at the door and a few sprinkled throughout. Morgan was upstairs with his big brother, Quest.
Fifteen minutes later, she was already in Morgan’s section, suggesting they go somewhere a little more private for some fun. Morgan obliged, and Toya excused herself to the bathroom when she was really opening the side door for an easy entrance.
“Play along,” I grabbed Toya and shoved her inside the room where Morgan was waiting for her. “Wassup Morgan.”
“What the fuck?” He jumped up, trying to reach for his gun but wasn’t nearly as quick as Mack. Realizing he was fucked, he threw his hands up. “How did you get in here?”
“Get up. Let’s go,” I ordered, disregarding Morgan’s question.
“Let her go. She doesn’t have shit to do with this!”
“Shut the fuck up. You’re not in a position to make demands,” Mack barked.
Toya occasionally begged me to let her go, and while I ignored her cries, she sold the innocent female angle.
“I thought women and children were sacred,” Morgan continued prodding, and Mack let off a shot hitting him in his arm. That wasn’t a part of the plan, but after sitting in the hospital for days with Sky fighting for her life, he was itching to get that off.
“Nigga, could you have done that shit in the car? Now we have to help him out of here.”
“No, I couldn’t,” Mack replied, a lot more irritated and ready to get this shit over with than anybody else in the room. “Get the fuck up and walk out.”
“Why should I do that?”
“You don’t want to die. Or do you?” Mack asked, resting the barrel of his gun on Morgan’s temple. He didn’t hesitate to walk toward the door, knowing he was fucked either way.
“You’re not going to get away with this,” Morgan sneered, sitting in the empty warehouse tied to a chair.
We had been here for a few hours, and I was tired of his voice. He kept talking shit as if we were supposed to be afraid of him. Picture that.
“Nigga if we wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be here,” Gi corrected, but I was tired of listening to this nigga talk.
Grabbing the gasoline, I doused some of it over the lower portion of his body. He wasn’t running his mouth anymore, just looking at me like he wanted to kill me.
“Since you got so much shit to talk about. Tell us why the fuck you decided to come for us,” I insisted, flicking the lighter in my hand.
“Ask yourself why his father didn’t pay what he owed,” he replied, staring at Tyson.
“Because he didn’t have it, you moron.” It was comforting to know every family had a dumbass and not just ours, as I put the fire to his knees, mesmerized as the flames appeared.
The sound of sizzling fajitas echoed in the warehouse. The stench of burnt leather never smelled so good, watching Morgan squeal in pain. After a few moments, I smothered the flames as his chest heaved.
“If he had the money, he wouldn’t have needed to come to you.” Grabbing the tape, I placed two strips over his mouth. As much shit, as he talked, one wouldn’t have been enough.
“I’ll be glad when this shit is over so you can calm your ass down,” Tyson chuckled.
“Any word on Quest yet?” I asked, referring to Morgan’s older brother.
“He’s en route with Boomer,” Gi replied.
“Good.” That was all I said. Quite frankly, I was done talking.
Taking a seat, I was ready to go home and ease Skylar’s mind. She felt guilty because I wouldn’t be tearing the city up to make somebody pay for it if she didn't get shot.
That guilt wasn’t hers to carry, so I couldn’t wait to go home and erase it. She was at the gala because of me. Sky was shot because of me. There was no way around it. Somebody had to pay. Sky understood even if she disagreed, so she didn’t say anything when I told her I would be back when I could.
