by Sa'id Salaam
Herc reached past Chase and snatched Corey up by the front of his T-shirt.
“Let him go, Herc!” Chase yelled, pushing his weight against the big man who outweighed him by fifty pounds, easy.
Herc knocked him out of the way like he was swatting a fly and hit Corey in the face with his .45.
Corey yelped in pain, but it didn’t take the fight out of him; instead, it only made him angry.
Chase knew his brother well. He knew what Corey was going to do even before his hand went under his shirt. Corey might have only been sixteen, but he never left the house without his trusty .32. Chase’s brow furrowed in resignation. He was resentful about the unfortunate turn of events. All he wanted to do was go to the park with his brother and get in a simple pick-up game of basketball, but this fool had come out of nowhere with his flexing and his questions. He’d even felt brave enough to come alone, thinking he’d intimidate two teenagers. Chase smiled a sad smile as he watched Herc turn his gun to point at Corey’s head. He couldn’t just stand there and let that murderous fool kill his little brother. Just like everyone else, Herc had slept on Chase, paying him no mind,
Because Herc had his back to Chase, he didn’t see him slip his hand into his back pocket and pull out his own weapon of choice. Chase quietly put his foot between Herc’s feet and put his left hand on his forehead, pulling his head back to his shoulder in an oddly intimate embrace. By the time the look of surprise fully registered on Herc’s face, he was already wearing a broad smile across his neck. Chase wiped the blade of his silver-handled razor on Herc’s pants and stepped away.
Corey, who’d been down this road before, wrested himself away from Herc before the blood could touch him.
Herc didn’t care that Corey got away from his grip, because he had more important matters to consider at that moment. He instinctively clutched at his throat and unleashed the torrent. He watched in shocked dismay as his warm crimson life force jetted between his fingers, coloring the air with its spray and soaking the pavement. “Shit . . .” he gurgled.
Chase shook his head. “You got a couple seconds to find God, Herc. Maybe you should pray.”
Herc gurgled something unintelligible—maybe it was a prayer—and then he fell on his side in a growing pool of his own blood.
Corey leaned down and looked him in his dying eyes. “That’s what you get when you pull a gun on us, Herc. Don’t nobody pull no guns on us. Oh, and don’t worry... we’ll make sure we tell Cyrus you were lookin’ for him.”
Chase tapped his brother on the shoulder. “It’s not right to mock a dyin’ man, Corey. Let’s get the hell outta here and leave this nigga to his last breath.”
OTHER TITLES FROM G STREET CHRONICLES
A-Town Veteran
Executive Mistress
Essence of a Bad Girl
Two Face
Dope, Death and Deception
Dealt the Wrong Hand
Blocked In
Family Ties
Drama
The Love, Lust & Lies Series
by
Mz. Robinson
Married to His Lies
What We Won’t Do for Love
The Lies We Tell for Love - Coming Soon
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Lady Boss
Chronicles of a Junky
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