Tampa Black: Part !

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snatched her arm away and pulled out a switch blade; cutting him in the face in one smooth motion.
    “Pussy ass nigga, I told you to take your mother-fucking hands off me!”
    Before she could reach back and cut him again, he viciously punched her in the jaw, instantly knocking her to the ground, and began to beat her like she was a man.
    “Bitch what the fuck is wrong with you? I’ll kill your stupid ass out here.”
    As he continued to man handle her, the crowd looked on in shock at the sudden violence.
    Coming out of the apartment, Carlos saw what was going on with his sister and lost it. Although he was usually calm, cool, and collected, seeing his sister getting brutalized brought the beast out of him. Pulling out his 40 cal., Carlos closed the distance between himself and the incident in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. Raising his firearm into the air, he viciously brought it down across the back of the man’s head knocking a chuck out of his scalp as blood began to pour from the wound profusely. As the man’s bloody body lay on the ground unconscious from the blow, Carlos continued to savagely beat him in the face until it began to cave in.
    As blood splashed all over his face and clothes, Carlos abruptly stopped his assault and stood over the man’s limp body before cocking his weapon. Before Carlos could finish his handy work, Trion ran up and grabbed him from behind.  
    “Naw dawg, not here.”
    Reluctantly, Carlos put away his weapon before spitting on the man’s unconscious body.
    “Fuck nigga tonight is your lucky night, but the next time I see you, I aint gone spare you…”
    Helping Tonya up, Carlos and Trion disappeared through the sea of by-standers just as Smoke was emerging from the crowd. Kneeling down by the body, Smoke spoke to the unconscious man with death in his eyes.
    “Fuck nigga I don’t spare nothing. I don’t even spare my tires. Your bitch ass gone see what the gators bite like tonight.”
    Calling his right hand man Hurk, Smoke smiled to himself before giving him instructions.
    “Put this pussy nigga in the swamp.”
    With that, it was done. A statement would be made to the streets, and life in the projects would go on. This would become just another cold case on the first 48…
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 12
    FROM BAD 2 WORSE
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    As the cardiac and respiratory monitors gave off slow and steady bleeps into the wee hours of the morning, Tecko’s mind rehashed his last few moments before he had lost consciousness. Watching the horrendous scene play it’s self out in his mind, the monitors attached to him began to spike as his body began to go into shock; and spam. Hearing the alert signal of the equipment, the R.N’s at the nurse’s station responded with precision.
    Flooding into Tecko’s room, the nurses worked rigorously to stabilize his condition. After an hour, things were back to normal. Tecko’s vitals were stable, and all was calm. Tecko had been transferred from Miami to Tampa, and had now been held in Tampa General’s I.C.U for the past week. Every day he fought for his life, and every day he relived his last moments with his son.
    Even in an unconscious state, his heart was broken into a million pieces. His last memory of his son was of bullets ripping through his innocent flesh as tears of fear ran down his cheek, and his blood ran freely from the gaping holes that bullets had left behind. This memory would forever be burned deep into the depths of his soul, along with the vison of the faces of the fleeing assailants.
    Trapped somewhere between life and death in his own personal hell, Tecko made one last promise to his son, everyone responsible for his death would die. With revenge in his heart, he began to fight his way back to the land of the living, and when he got there it would be hell to pay…
    As he stirred from his unconscious slumber, he gazed at the

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