Page 42 of Gang of Roses: Dice

Damn, I didn’t wanna kill nobody today.

CRACK!

I shot Scott between the eyes, and Rebel and Kash hopped the truck, pushing money bags inside the big backpacks they wore before we started our own routine. The sirens that were once in the distance were a lot closer now, pissing me the fuck off because we were supposed to be gone.

“Here! Load up!” Kash yelled.

She started tossing money bags my way so I could begin stuffing them while Rebel jumped off to help and let Crow know to change all the lights to green to jam the traffic. We needed more time. Horns blared, and that’s what we wanted: chaos on the streets. We created our own routine. Kash tossed, Rebel caught, and helped me stuff my bag.

One thing about New Yorkers, they didn’t give a damn bout anything else once the light was green. They are some of the most impatient people I know. We heard sirens, but if a city was fuck the police during a green light, it was New York.

“Let’s shake.”

We hopped on the all-black bikes and cut through the wind with a heavy load. This was no damn Set It Off. We were all going the same way, fuck a split-up. The only time that tactic was used was when we needed to call in the decoys.

“Roses, I’m starting to hear the damn choppas,” I said. They understood because we often shortened the group name when things were hot. The noise was damn near on top of us.

“Shittttt,” Kash yelled into the headset.

“Crow is working. Once we get up here at the next light, we’re hitting the garage. We gotta take a different route,” Rebel announced.

“What the fuck for? That shit ain’t in the plans, Rebel,” I fussed.

“New plan, gotdammit,” she shot back.

“Cool ‘cause a bitch starting to hear more than one in the air,” Kash said, letting it be known that there were now two helicopters in the sky. I was sure that was because of the sky-high buildings, the dead guard, and the jammed traffic.

“Don’t look up, heads down until we hit the garage. Crow has already cut the cameras in the block. He knows we’re on the way. There is a car ready there.

“Bet,” Me and Kash both said as the three of us gunned it through the streets of New York, cutting in and out through the traffic to get to our destination. I’m sure I could speak for us all when I say this ride was giving us a rush.

Engines roared like it was drag racing, something I used to do often, but not since the last bet with Rose. The love faded, but this brought me back to the thrill of the ride. Rose would have loved this on-the-edge kind of shit.

“Crow said it’s comin’ up. It’s the building with the red sign. Take it up to five,” Rebel called out.

We gunned it, chopping over a hundred on the dash. It was just like she said, and we all slowed the bikes so we could make a safe turn into the building. Crow was the key to this job with the tech, and Kash’s husband, Declan, had the car ready. Well, I should have said cars. Going up the ramp to level five, this man had three cars, the exact same make, model, and color.

“Ladies, Crow said we only have five minutes to get off this block and another five to make it to I-87,” Rebel said, as we hopped off the bikes.

“As much as my hubby just made me wet with this shit, we gotta move it,” Kash voiced.

“Ugh.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Ugh, shit. That chocolate man getting whatever he want when I make it back home.”

She was all starry-eyed.

“Spare me,” Rebel mugged her.

Nothing else was said; we loaded the heavy bags, hopped in the whips, and made our exit to hit the highway. Nothing on the bike would connect the police to us. We were headed to the nearest safehouse. Something this high-profile, it would be too risky to go back to the Airbnb, but we wouldn’t check out just yet, just in case the police wanted to look deeper. It wasn’t in our name anyway, though.

I was ready to see my baby face; we would have to count this up, and I would tell the girls at a later date. It was best I tell the father first anyway.

One fire blown out, two more to go!

Figuring I would give Coca a call to let him know I was safe, I pulled out my phone. That boy would worry whenever I was on a job. Pop Pop's nerves would be so torn up that he never wanted to know when I was working. Instead, he always asked Coca to call him, or for me to stop by once I made it back.