Free Thug Lovin' by Wahida Clark Page B

drinker. He a smoker,” Marvin said as he passed Trae a blunt.
    Trae took it from him and said, “Come on.”
    “I’m good,” Marvin said. The heroin he had just snorted had him on easy street.
    Trae stood up and looked around for the honey who had been on his lap. “I’ll be right back.” He took his time making his way
     to the front door as he admired all the luscious eye candy all around him. When he got out front, a group of smokers were
     just finishing up and coming back inside. Trae looked around, lit up and started walking.
    “Yo, money.”
    Trae turned around and saw King, so he stopped and waited.
    “Let’s keep walking,” King told him as he lit up his own blunt. “This is my first time seeing you up in here.” He took a slow
     pull and admired the blunt. “So, we meet again.” King Dread smirked. “I’m Detective Rick Bryant by day and King Dread by night.”
    “King, huh? King of what?” Trae was anxious to know. “And good lookin’ on the bottle.”
    King smiled. “King of whatever I choose. You remind me of someone. And just like him, always curious and he was never a hater.”
    “That nigga
must
be a boss. And you couldn’t put the word hate in the same sentence with me. I’m Trae and I don’t have to hate. I gets mine.”
    “See, now that’s what I’m talking about. It looked like you used to roll like that.”
    “Used to?”
    “Yeah, what happened? You got married?”
    “Damn, it’s that obvious?” Trae grinned.
    “Only to a nigga of my caliber. But check it. It ain’t no thing. I got hitched too. I married a rich bitch. She already had
     a house, money, everything. But that ain’t stop nothin’.” They both started laughing. “You from the East Coast?”
    Trae nodded as a pickup truck turned the corner on two wheels, jumping the curb, damn near running them over. Two crazy-looking
     cats jumped out with guns, aiming and yelling at King and Trae.
    “What the fuck?” Trae mumbled, surprised that he was getting jacked. “Whoa, niggas. Y’all don’t know me and I don’t know y’all.”
     He reached for his burner, and then held up, realizing that if the fools had intended to shoot they would have done so by
     now.
    “Then get the fuck on,” the albino cat said. “Go ahead and kick rocks, black nigga, while you got the chance!” he screamed
     at Trae.
    Trae picked up his pace and began walking off. But the two dudes were stripping King of all his bling, emptying his pockets,
     even taking his car keys, and were beating his ass viciously.
    Trae glanced back at them and stopped. Then he started back walking.
Mind your business, nigga
, was his first thought.
Naw, fuck that! You know you like to get down and dirty. Karma, muthafucka. What if that was you back there getting your ass
     whupped?
was his next train of thought.
Plus
,
you ain’t had no action in a long time, chillin’ all up in the house like some punk-ass bitch.
    Unable to resist, Trae turned around, Glock .40 in hand, and started walking real fast toward them. When the albino cat looked
     up, Trae blasted. POW! POW! Catching the albino cat in the chest, sending him flying backwards. Trae smirked.
    Seizing the opportunity, King was then able to grab his piece and put several rounds in the head of the other cat. “Pussy
     muthafucka,” he spat before lying back, groaning in pain and coughing.
    Trae stood over King and cocked his burner. King raised his up at the same time.
    “What? We gonna kill each other now?” King asked through a bloody grin.
    “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t take you out? You’s a muthafuckin’ witness and I ain’t going to jail for nobody.”
    “Shit, me neither.” King laughed and groaned in pain, dropping his gun.
    Trae grinned.
    “Look, money, you on my team now. Face it,” said King. “You and me cut from the same cloth. So go on ahead and get the fuck
     outta here.”
    “Team? Come on now, don’t insult me. Imagine
me
as a team player when I own the team