Free Flippin' the Hustle by Trae Macklin Page A

appraisal of her.
    â€œYeah, that’s cool,” he replied, sliding his long legs from under the picnic table.
    Just as Derrick pulled himself to a standing position, the distinct sound of automatic gunfire erupted.
    â€œTat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!
    Instinctively, Derrick dove across the table and slammed Naria to the ground, while simultaneously snatching two hysterically screaming children. As the scene became more chaotic, Derrick eased up with his gun raised and ready to fire. He peered over the table in the direction the gunfire had come from. His eyes darted around frantically.
    Had anyone paid any attention to him, it would have been evident that he was either a trained killer or a police.
    Moving about the scene cautiously, Derrick yelled, “Everybody a’ight!”
    Gradually, people began to come to their feet. Derrick noticed that both RJ and Lil’ Roy stood unharmed. However, Lil’ Roy looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
    Suddenly, there was a loud cry. “I’m hit! Oh my God! Robert, I’m hit!”
    Derrick and the others rushed to the screaming voice, only to see Trina, RJ’s girlfriend clutching her side. Derrick knew that BTB would be going on a rampage to mete out revenge on whoever was brazen enough to harm RJ’s girlfriend.
    * * * * *
    There was complete pandemonium in the halls of the university hospital’s shock trauma unit. People moving about aimlessly as the police attempted to question those who were at the scene of the shooting.
    RJ sat alone in a corner of the waiting room. His eyes displayed the rage that was boiling inside of him.
    The entire time that they’d been at the hospital, Naria had stayed latched on to Derrick. Her arm was intertwined into his everywhere he went. When the doctors allowed her and RJ to go in and see Trina, she insisted that Derrick come along.
    Eyeing the murderous rage in RJ’s eyes, Derrick broke free from Naria and walked over to him. “You gonna be a’ight?”
    â€œSome niggas just shot my girl, yo.”
    â€œI know, man, but she’s gonna be a’ight, son. It was ju—”
    â€œThem niggas shot my girl, yo! And I ain’t gonna sleep until all of them niggas is dead!” RJ hissed.
    â€œHow are you gonna find out who did it?”
    â€œI’ve got my ways. Now you rolling or what?” RJ stood. Without waiting for a reply, RJ exited the waiting room.
    As Derrick followed him out of the door, Naria grabbed his arm. “Tree, please look out for my brother.”
    Giving her an understanding nod, Derrick quickly caught up with RJ, but he found it odd that Naria was asking him to look out for her brother, when RJ was more than capable of looking out for himself. Derrick’s fear was that someone else would have to look out for RJ’s wrath.
    *****
    Behind the wheel of RJ’s SL55, Derrick noticed the hunger in the eyes of the men standing on each corner they passed. Drugs had definitely taken their toll on New York’s inner city. He and RJ had been cruising the streets for nearly two hours, in silence. Every time Derrick asked him where it was that he wanted to go, he would curtly reply, “Just keep driving.”
    Both of their cellular phones had been chiming incessantly since they’d exited the hospital, yet both men chose to ignore them.
    However, once RJ’s phone rang once, paused, and then rang again, he quickly answered it.
    Derrick immediately picked up on the strange act, and listened to the context of the conversation closely.
    â€œAll right, yo! Give me five minutes and I’ll be there,” RJ stated, and then tossed the phone onto the console. Turning toward Derrick, he said, “Go through Grand Avenue. I got to meet my niggas.”
    Derrick followed RJ’s order. As he navigated the Benz through Brooklyn, he was under the impression that the men they were headed to meet were the men that he already knew. However,