While screaming and crying in pain with each blow, something made the young thug stop his attack on his woman. He turned around to face a man about his age with a machete in his hand.
“Chill Evil this isn’t what it looks like. She tripped and fell.” He said while pointing to his girl on the concrete crying all curled up in a ball.
“You know the rules.” Evil said in a voice that sent chills through the young thug’s spine.
“Wait no! No!” He begged and
pleased with his arms out in front of him to keep Evil at a distance. Not knowing that his pleas were upon a cold hearted and a deaf ear.
Evil raised the machete high in the air and came down on the thug’s arm and chopped his arm right off. “Ahhh!” The thug screamed as blood gushed out of his detached arm. Evil came down again on the thug’s leg chopping it off at the knee.
“Ahhh!” He screamed from the pain and saw it only being held together by just a piece of skin. The young thug turned on to his stomach and started crawling away using his good arm as his girl watched in horror as her man made his way to her legs where she was laying on the ground.
“Help me! Help me!” He said in a weak voice.
Evil walked up to him and took off the young thug’s fitted hat and bent down and said, “You know my rule.” Evil stood back up and swung the machete with all his might and came down on the young thug’s neck. Evil kept swinging the machete at his neck until his head rolled off. He picked up the head up and placed it in a bag.
He turned and looked at the
frightened woman covered in her man’s blood. One of her eyes was swollen shut so she looked at Evil with her good eye. Evil put his bloody hand to his lips and motioned her to be quiet. She knew better than to talk about what happened. She knew Evil would never hit a woman, but we would kill one if he had to.
Michael Ice, Jr., or better known as Evil, walked down the street with a smile on his face with his bag in one hand and a machete in the other. People around the neighborhood knew the rules he had. No hitting on woman in his neighborhood. It didn’t matter what age or what they did. He would not see abuse of anymore woman in his lifetime again.
In the shadows, a man with a scar on his face watched the whole thing while smoking on a cigarette stuffed with crack.
He smiled as he watched what the young man did to that thug. It wasn’t because he was protecting that woman, but because of the mayhem and the life he took on so easily. He inhaled the cigarette and laughed to himself. “Like father, like son.” He said and disappeared into the shadows.
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Table of Contents
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Part Two
Book Available:
A CHILD OF A CRACKHEAD Page 14
