Page 51 of Dreaux: The Corporate Assassin

“Yes, I like you, but I like you more than I should, Dre.” The nervousness in her tone couldn’t be missed, but I waited to see what else she would say. “I need to tell you something important. I know it’s early, but can you come over?”

As I approached the traffic light, I started to respond when something caught my eye. Glancing over to Skip’s club, I could see a blacked-out Honda creeping up on the side of the building. I slowly made a right as I watched three masked men canvas the area.

“What is it you wanna talk about, Denim?” I asked in a detached manner as I whipped into the lot on the opposite side. Letting my window down slightly, I aimed my pistol out of my passenger window. Before the last assailant could enter the building, he was dropped with a bullet to his temple.

“What was that?” she asked, ignoring my question. “It sounded like?—”

“Let me call you back.” I disconnected the call as I cut the ignition.

Hurriedly, I made my way to the side door they’d entered as quietly as I could. I silently crept through the dark hallway, hoping that I’d made it in time. Skip should’ve been the only one here at this time, so that alone told me this was a robbery. As I got closer to his office, I could hear the voice of an unknown man making demands.

“Empty the fuckin’ safe, and we might let you live to see tomorrow, nigga!” I stayed close to the wall as I leaned forward to see if he was okay. Sitting at his desk with an annoyed look on his face, I had to stop myself from chuckling at this nonchalant-ass nigga. “If I tell you again, I’m gonna kill you, nigga.”

“You might as well do it because I ain’t giving you shit.” He eyed the one holding the gun on him as he leaned back in his seat. “If you knew like I did, you’d get the fuck out of here while you can.” He slowly dragged his eyes to the second man near the door. He’d yet to say anything. “You all right back there, lil’ nigga. You’re shaking in your fuckin’ boots.”

Once the guy holding the gun on Skip turned to face his friend, he spotted me. His eyes widened in fear as he aimed his handgun at me. He was too slow, and I’d sent one to his stomach before he knew what was happening.

“Oh shit!” the second guy screamed as he turned to me and tried to run. One bullet to his kneecap stopped him dead in his tracks. “Please don’t kill me!”

“What the fuck are you doing here, nigga?” Skip asked me as he stood from his seat and stepped over both niggas without a care. “The kitchen ain’t open yet.”

I chuckled as I dapped him up. “Nigga, it’s almost ten o’clock. Ain’t nobody eating chicken wings this early. I was riding by and saw you might need a little help. You know these niggas?”

Walking over, he bent down and removed their masks. I shook my head at the fact that these kids didn’t look a day over twenty. Too bad they’ve ended their lives before they could begin by fucking with the wrong niggas.

“Who the fuck are y’all?” Skip stood over the one in charge and crossed his arms. “Who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to send you on this dummy mission?”

“Nigga, fuck?—”

Pew!

I sent one to the head of the guy I’d shot in the stomach. Skip arched his brow at me, and I just shrugged. That nigga wanted to be tough, and I’ve dealt with enough niggas to know he wasn’t going to tell him what he wanted to know.

“Please don’t kill me!” The scaredy cat cradled his knee as he cried in pain. “This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this. Me and my cousin were just trying to make some money.”

“That’s your cousin that I dropped at the door?” I asked as I propped up against the wall. “If so, you’re the last man standing, my boy.” Nodding toward Skip, I continued, “Tell that man who sent y’all to crash out, and I’ll make sure you make it out of here.”

We watched as he balled up and cried like a bitch. I don’t understand why these guys always claim to be tough but want to cry out and plead the blood of Jesus when they meet the Reaper. Growing annoyed, I pushed off the wall and walked over to him. Leaning down, I lifted him by the collar of his shirt and tapped his nose with my gun.

“Shut the fuck up with all that crying, nigga. I’m gonna fuck around and give you something to cry about.”

“You shot the nigga’s kneecap off, Dre.” Skip chuckled as he pulled out a snicker. “The shit probably hurt.”

“Not as much as it’s gone hurt your pockets when you the invoice for my services populate in your email.” I smirked as his smile dropped. Frowning, he walked over and pushed me out of the way, causing the nigga to fall back to the floor.

“Who the fuck sent you, and why?” His teeth were clenched as he hovered over him. “I’m not going to ask again, nigga!”

“It was B-Big Lew. He said he’s coming for you and for us to send the message. He said?—”

Pop!

Before he could even finish, Skip popped him. Aggravated, he pulled out his phone to call his brother and their clean-up crew. We sat there in silence, but it didn’t take Uno any time to arrive.

“Say, Skip, why is there a dead nigga at the side door?” he called out from the hallway. “What the fuck?”

Walking into the room, he scanned the two dead bodies before his eyes went from his brother to me. Giving him a finger wave and a smile, I watched his frown deepen.

“You two niggas.” He shook his head before he took a seat on the couch tucked in the corner of the room. “What the fuck happened?”

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