Kross wrapped his arms around her, peppering kisses all over her face. “I got you for life, Remedy. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this shit the right way this time.”
Epilogue
Darkness surrounded Kross as the crisp winter’s wind swept through the parking garage. With a hoodie over his head to combat the frigid temperatures, he looked over his shoulder to ensure no one caught sight of him. His footsteps sounded against the cement of the parking garage as he approached a dark tinted BMW X6. He reached into the backpack he was carrying and extracted the equipment Serge lent him so he could pop the lock on the car. Once Kross bypassed the lock, the alarm blared through the garage. Quickly, he got into the front seat, and just like Serge taught him back in Miami, he cut the wires underneath the steering wheel, immediately silencing the alarm. Stuffing the wires back into the interior lining of the vehicle, he smoothly got into the back seat of the car, locking himself inside.
He sat patiently for only twelve minutes before he got a text on his burner cell.
Yari
Coming down now.
Received 1:56 AM
Kross met Yari back at King of Diamonds in Miami. She was a scandalous bitch who was all about her paper, so when he gave her a number with a number of zeros at the end she couldn’t resist, it was nothing for her to relocate to Chicago for just a few months. Her fat ass, nice rack of titties, and intoxicating Dominican accent were impossible to resist, and she never really took no for an answer. Yari always went for the big fish, so this shit wasn’t out of her league at all. She blended in and worked her magic just like Kross knew she would. This most likely wasn’t the first time she set a nigga up with the power she had between her legs, but Kross ain’t really give a fuck because as a nigga in his position, he knew better than to just think with his dick.
Moments later, he saw Yari and Scrap walking hand in hand to his car. It was evident that the two had just got done fucking just by the way Yari’s curly tresses were pulled up in a messy bun instead of the sleek style she wore during her shift at the club.
“When will I see you again, papi?” Yari eased out with a smile full of her pearly white veneers as they halted right in front of the car.
A smooth chuckle drifted out of Scrap as he peered down at her. She was fine as fuck, and the pussy was hitting, so he was for sure going to spin back on her. They had been kicking it for a month now, and she fulfilled every dirty fantasy he had running through that big-ass head of his. Yari was a dream, her and her wet-ass pussy.
“I got a little trip down to Cali this weekend. Let me fly you out,” he offered with a convincing smirk.
As Kross eyed them, his eyes filled with hatred. He couldn’t have been any more different from Kross. He didn’t know what the fuck Cassie was thinking when she got entangled with Scrap’s ass.
Scrap stood at six-foot-two, drenched in a smooth fawn skin tone that was canvased with tattoos. His dreads were styled in barrel twists that hung down to the middle of his back. His Chicago accent was one that intrigued Cassie since she hadn’t really fucked with an out-of-town nigga before. He had a handsome face and good talk game, but she would have never let those things swindle her out of some pussy if she knew she would’ve died at his command.
Scrap built a name for himself out in Chicago, and he moved some heavy weight. The first mistake he made was trusting Tone as his Miami distro since Kross and the Paper Chase Crew cleared their whole set. He was working on rebuilding his name out in South Florida, so he was meeting with a new connect out in Cali who was going to plug him in with the right folks. Little did he know, he was never going to make that trip.
“Ouu, I would love that.” Yari wrapped her arms around him before springing onto her tippy toes to peck his lips. They shared a hug and another kiss before Yari walked back toward her building. Whatever happened next, she wanted no parts in.
Scrap hit the locks on his key fob before sliding into the driver’s seat. Kross upped his Glock and pressed it right against Scrap’s temple.
“What the fuck?!” he bellowed once he realized he had been plotted against and set up. “That hoe set me up,” Scrap fumed with a shake of his head.
Kross chuckled in amusement. “Nigga, you had to know this shit was coming. You sent them niggas to spray at my baby mama while my son was in the car.”
Finally looking through the rearview mirror, he was met with Kross’ dark eyes leering back at him. “He ain’t your fucking son,” Scrap snarled.
“And that justify you shooting up her whip while he was inside it?” Kross snapped as he pushed the barrel of his gun deeper into his temple.
Scrap accepted his fate. Wasn’t no nigga about to up their tool the way Kross did without pulling the trigger. He had been crossed, and that was his fault for letting a sneaky bitch like Yari in his space.
“That sneaky bitch ran off with my paper and had you raising my seed. You really goofy as hell for letting that bitch play on your top like that.”
Cassie and Scrap met by chance in her opinion. Kross had just gotten locked up on his trafficking charges, so all his assets and money were frozen. She went out with Amoura, ran into a baller who was flashing more money than he should’ve been, and ended up fucking him right to sleep at the Ritz-Carlton. Her circumstances were no excuse for what she did, but she was desperate and had to think fast. The twenty bands she ran off on Scrap with that night covered the first set of payments for Kross’ lawyer before he got his finances situated with the State. It was stressful as hell, but Cassie was willing to do anything to get her man out.
She never thought Scrap would cause her six years of hell, but after getting pregnant and not knowing who fathered her child, she did the only thing she thought was best and that was run.
“I’ll be that, but just remember, I’m the goofy-ass nigga who painted your whole fucking block red and ran your weak-ass set out of Florida. And now, I’m the goofy-ass nigga who’s about to blow your fucking brains out,” Kross gritted venomously.
Scrap wasn’t going out without a fight. In a quick attempt to save himself, he brought the engine to life and sped off while wrestling Kross for the gun but failed once his car was blockedin by an unmarked black SUV. Ezekiel was posted in the cut waiting on a signal from Kross. He didn’t even have to do much because in a split second, Kross pulled the trigger and spewed all of Scrap’s brain matter amongst the red leather interior of the luxury vehicle.
“This for Cassie and my motherfuckin’ son, pussy-ass nigga,” he seethed with no remorse.
Blood pooled from the massive hole that was left on the side of Scrap’s head as he slumped over in the seat lifeless. Justice was finally served for his lady, and Kross could finally get some fucking peace.
???
