accident.
“Tell me how we gonna do this, bitch,” Cowboy yanked the woman roughly to her feet. If it weren’t for the fact that he was holding her upright her knees would’ve probably given out from fear. “We’re gonna go in the back and get the coke. You play nice, you live, you fuck with me and I’m gonna fuck your old ass before I body you, comprende?” The woman was hesitant at first but seeing that Cowboy meant business, she complied.
With Cowboy’s gun pressed firmly to the back of her head she led him through a pair of double doors and through the store room to the back office. Through the small glass window of the door Cowboy could see two men sitting around a table packaging drugs. Keeping the woman in front of him like a shield, he shoved the doors opened. One of the men was instantly on his feet, but froze when he saw the black man holding a gun to the woman.
“Don’t get up on my account,” Cowboy said to the men, making sure to keep the woman’s body between the men and him. One of them eyed the Glock sitting on the table like he wanted to play hero so Cowboy gave him some food for thought. “I want you to, so I can peel this bitch and still drop you before you draw.” This gave the man pause. Cowboy pulled a heavy duty trash bag from his waistline and tossed it onto the table. “Shovel all that powder and whatever dough you got in the bag. If I don’t feel like you’re moving fast enough, this old bitch is getting it!”
“I ain’t giving you shit. El Pogo is gonna smoke your black ass,” a man sporting a handlebar mustache said smugly.
“Oh, you must think I’m playing, huh? Well, let me see if I can show you just how serious I am.” The sound of thunder filled the store room, followed by the man with the mustache’s bicep exploding. He shrieked like a wounded animal before collapsing to the floor, clutching his wounded arm. “Now, the next nigga come at me with some tough guy shit is taking a fucking nap, we clear on that shit?”
“Please don’t kill me,” the woman sobbed.
“Baby, I ain’t trying to kill nobody, just do like I tell you to and everything is gonna be okay,” Cowboy dug into his pocket and pulled out several plastic restraints. “Get over there and tie your amigos up.” Not wanting to be the next one to catch a bullet the woman did as she was told. While the woman was tying the men up, Cowboy started tossing money and cocaine into the garbage bag.
“You’re not gonna get away with taking El Pogo’s shit!” the wounded man with the mustache hissed.
Cowboy flashed a smug grin. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I already have.” Ignoring the larcenous glares that were coming his way, Cowboy continued to stuff the bounty into the bag. He couldn’t help but to smile thinking about what he was going to charge Butch for the cocaine. El Pogo’s shit would draw top dollar. “Another smooth lick,” he mused to himself, but that quickly turned into a feeling of dread when he heard the gunshots coming from the front of the store.
The sound of gunfire coming from the store room distracted Rico long enough for the deli worker to make a move. In a swift motioned he grabbed a .25 that had been stashed in the bread container. God must’ve been with Rico because just before he would’ve gotten his head blown off; a young man walked into the store, jingling the bell over the front door. Rico turned his head just in time for a bullet to nick his cheek and puncture a can of peas on the shelf behind him. More out of fear than anything else, Rico started letting off with the Colt.
Glass and food flew inward as the powerful slugs tore through the deli section and the upper body of the worker. Rico was so preoccupied with the deli worker that he didn’t notice the young Hispanic man who had crept out of the store’s bathroom. The boy blindsided Rico with a broomstick, knocking the gun from his hand. Rico tried to recover the weapon, but was rewarded with a blow
“Tell me how we gonna do this, bitch,” Cowboy yanked the woman roughly to her feet. If it weren’t for the fact that he was holding her upright her knees would’ve probably given out from fear. “We’re gonna go in the back and get the coke. You play nice, you live, you fuck with me and I’m gonna fuck your old ass before I body you, comprende?” The woman was hesitant at first but seeing that Cowboy meant business, she complied.
With Cowboy’s gun pressed firmly to the back of her head she led him through a pair of double doors and through the store room to the back office. Through the small glass window of the door Cowboy could see two men sitting around a table packaging drugs. Keeping the woman in front of him like a shield, he shoved the doors opened. One of the men was instantly on his feet, but froze when he saw the black man holding a gun to the woman.
“Don’t get up on my account,” Cowboy said to the men, making sure to keep the woman’s body between the men and him. One of them eyed the Glock sitting on the table like he wanted to play hero so Cowboy gave him some food for thought. “I want you to, so I can peel this bitch and still drop you before you draw.” This gave the man pause. Cowboy pulled a heavy duty trash bag from his waistline and tossed it onto the table. “Shovel all that powder and whatever dough you got in the bag. If I don’t feel like you’re moving fast enough, this old bitch is getting it!”
“I ain’t giving you shit. El Pogo is gonna smoke your black ass,” a man sporting a handlebar mustache said smugly.
“Oh, you must think I’m playing, huh? Well, let me see if I can show you just how serious I am.” The sound of thunder filled the store room, followed by the man with the mustache’s bicep exploding. He shrieked like a wounded animal before collapsing to the floor, clutching his wounded arm. “Now, the next nigga come at me with some tough guy shit is taking a fucking nap, we clear on that shit?”
“Please don’t kill me,” the woman sobbed.
“Baby, I ain’t trying to kill nobody, just do like I tell you to and everything is gonna be okay,” Cowboy dug into his pocket and pulled out several plastic restraints. “Get over there and tie your amigos up.” Not wanting to be the next one to catch a bullet the woman did as she was told. While the woman was tying the men up, Cowboy started tossing money and cocaine into the garbage bag.
“You’re not gonna get away with taking El Pogo’s shit!” the wounded man with the mustache hissed.
Cowboy flashed a smug grin. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I already have.” Ignoring the larcenous glares that were coming his way, Cowboy continued to stuff the bounty into the bag. He couldn’t help but to smile thinking about what he was going to charge Butch for the cocaine. El Pogo’s shit would draw top dollar. “Another smooth lick,” he mused to himself, but that quickly turned into a feeling of dread when he heard the gunshots coming from the front of the store.
The sound of gunfire coming from the store room distracted Rico long enough for the deli worker to make a move. In a swift motioned he grabbed a .25 that had been stashed in the bread container. God must’ve been with Rico because just before he would’ve gotten his head blown off; a young man walked into the store, jingling the bell over the front door. Rico turned his head just in time for a bullet to nick his cheek and puncture a can of peas on the shelf behind him. More out of fear than anything else, Rico started letting off with the Colt.
Glass and food flew inward as the powerful slugs tore through the deli section and the upper body of the worker. Rico was so preoccupied with the deli worker that he didn’t notice the young Hispanic man who had crept out of the store’s bathroom. The boy blindsided Rico with a broomstick, knocking the gun from his hand. Rico tried to recover the weapon, but was rewarded with a blow
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