Free Redrum by Boston George

Amazon looked over at White Mike’s wife. “Yo’, hold this nigga down,” he said over his shoulder.
    Immediately Kendu walked over toward White Mike, his .45 aimed directly at the man’s face.
    â€œBitch, get ya ass up!” Amazon barked. He snatched White Mike’s wife up off the floor by her hair. “Where the fuckin’ money at?”
    â€œI swear to God, I don’t know nothing about no money.”
    Amazon sighed loudly as he pulled a Rambo knife from the small of his back and started stabbing the woman like she was an animal.
    Kendu watched in horror as Amazon plunged the knife in and out of the woman repeatedly. White Mike tried to jump up and rescue his wife, but Kendu quickly erased that thought with a blow to the head with his gun.
    Amazon stabbed White Mike’s wife to death and kept on stabbing away.
    Kendu grabbed his arm. “I think that’s enough!” he said in a stern voice.
    Amazon looked at Kendu like he was crazy. “Get your muthafuckin’ hands off me before you be next!”
    Kendu released his grip on Amazon’s arm.
    Amazon cleaned his Rambo knife off on Kendu’s shirt. “Take care of this clown, so we can go.”
    Kendu turned and looked down at White Mike, who was holding his bloody hand. He felt sorry for the man, but he knew he had to do what he had to do. It was either kill or be killed. He raised his arm and shot White Mike in the face, and him and Amazon walked out like nothing never happened.
    Amazon and Kendu got back to the hood, and Kendu listened to Amazon laugh, bragging about how he had viciously stabbed White Mike’s wife to death. Kendu had done dirt in his day, but it was always a business move. Amazon was just a straight animal. He killed just for fun and for a street reputation, and from listening to him tell the story, he enjoyed doing it.
    â€œThis nigga Kendu was acting like he was scared to shoot that white nigga. The nigga hand was shaking more than Muhammad Ali,” Amazon said, and him and the rest of the crew busted out laughing.
    â€œAll that matters is, I got the job done,” Kendu countered.
    â€œEverything all right?” Dirty Black asked. “You been kind of quiet these last couple of days.”
    â€œYeah, I’m cool,” Kendu replied.
    â€œLet me talk to you outside for a second.”
    Dirty Black and Kendu stepped outside so they could talk in private.
    â€œTalk to me. What’s bothering you?” Dirty Black asked.
    â€œI’m straight,” Kendu lied.
    â€œListen, fam. Let me tell you something,” Dirty Black began. “You on my team now, so if you have a problem, come to me and I’ll take care of it.”
    â€œJust been having a little trouble with my wife.” Kendu sighed loudly. “I think she fuckin’ another nigga.”
    â€œYou need him killed?” Dirty Black asked seriously.
    â€œNot really certain yet if she’s creeping or not.”
    â€œWhat does your gut tell you?”
    â€œShe fuckin’,” Kendu answered seriously. And his gut was always right.
    â€œIt’s a million women out here, fam.” Dirty Black reached down in his pocket and peeled off five thousand dollars and handed it to Kendu. “Here. That’s for your pockets.”
    â€œGood looking,” Kendu said as he gratefully accepted the money.
    â€œWe headin’ to the club in about thirty minutes, so get your head together. Have a few drinks and enjoy the night,” Dirty Black said as he went back inside.
    When Kendu had first started working with Dirty Black, he thought he was just another fool with money. But after working with the man, he learned that Dirty Black was one of the realest people he had ever met in his whole life. Even though he was told that he would have to work for free, Dirty Black was still paying him for every job he did, and always made sure he was good and felt like family.

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