Page 52 of Under The Greek's Protection

Chapter 18

Alistair

At exactly nine-fiftyfive, we’re driving down Jefferson, in the roughest part of Oak Cliff. Dilapidated houses and old rundown buildings are on each of the streets. What was once a thriving area is now home to the gangs, drug addicts, prostitutes, and the homeless. Even the police turn a blind eye to the goings on around here, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire of the gang wars. It isn’t uncommon to hear something tragic happened here on the news on a daily basis.

“You ready to do this,” Zar asks, looking over his shoulder at me from the front passenger seat.

I nod as I start to unzip my jacket and take it off.

“Yeah, you’re ready. You brought your knives,” he teases.

“Oh, shit,” Xander says, pulling Beast to the side of The Boys and Girls club. “It’s about to go down!”

“You have no idea,” I responded, getting out after he put the vehicle in park.

In front of the building are two old school Chevy Capri’s sitting on at least thirty inch rims. Next to them are two Ford Expeditions with Georgia plates, and Hertz stickers on the back bumpers. Now I know how Andre got here without detection.

Headlights flicker from the back of the building, letting us know Hendrix and the others have arrived too. Showtime!

Once Zar and Xander are out, they follow me as I start towards the building. Two guys stand guard outside of the door. As we approach, the one on the left taps the other's arm, tilting his head at us.

“Trappa is expecting us,” I tell them.

They nod, stepping to the side. I reach for the knob, twist, and pull the old heavy door open. The musty, dank smell of the building, mixed with Kush, fills my nose.

Laughter from down the corridor has us moving in that direction. Out of the voices that are speaking, Andre’s is the only one I can put a face to.

“This is some good shit, Trap,” he says coughing. “I’m going to need a supply of this shit. The boys back home are going to go crazy when they get a hit of this. What do you call it again?”

“Blue Blaze,” Trappa’s nonchalant baritone voice replies.

“Yeah, I’m going to need about five keys of this,” Andre states, hitting the blunt as we enter the large room they’re in.

“Five keys is small time, why not make it twenty,” I announce, catching Andre off guard.

He chokes on the smoke as Milah pats him on the back. In the midst of hacking up a lung, he and the two men behind him go for their guns. Andre swiftly removes his hand from the butt of his gun, as Zar and Xander drop the men with precision.

“What the fuck is going on?! Shoot these motherfuckers,” Andre yells, staring at Trappa and his men.

“Naw, homie. You’re in violation. I let you smoke some of my good to get your ass ready for whatever these Greeks have in store for you, with your nasty ass. You just don’t know how bad I want to put a bullet in your head for the shit you did to your own daughter. You’re a fucking parasite, and the world would be better off without your ass,” Trappa growls as he points his gun at him.

Andre leans back in his chair as Milah glares at us.

“So, you mean to tell me you’re going to side with these white boys, after all the years I’ve done business with your daddy, and then with you,” Andre hisses at Trappa.

With his men still aiming at Andre, Trappa lays his gun on the table in front of them. “Yeah, you did business with my old man, but what people don’t see behind the smoke and mirrors is you’re just like him. You’re supposed to protect the youngsters at all cost, but how can you do that when you’re the demon that plagues their dreams every night?”

“Man, fuck that,” Andre shouts, snatching up his gun, aiming at me, and fires.

Spinning on my feet, to avoid being hit, I pull my knife on my right side, then with straight accuracy, throw it. Andre screams out in pain as the blade pierces his right shoulder, causing the gun to fall from his hand. Trappa and his men stand from their seats and move away from the groveling pussy. Milah, using the one brain cell in her head, reaches for the gun.

“Aht, aht, aht. That would be a bad idea on your part,” I say, drawing my gun faster.

Andre ceases his cries, then sneers at Trappa, “Is this what it's come to? You’re willing to bow down to these white boys? They might have the money and connections that we don’t, but at the end of the day, we still run our streets! South Dallas Boys every day!”

Trappa shrugs his shoulders. “If that was so, why did you leave for Atlanta? South Dallas Boys every day, right? But you still left while we were battling other gangs over our territory, the Cartels, the cops, and now this shit you almost put us in. As for me, Trappa, Lord over the South Dallas Boys, the way I see it, this is all on you, and we can’t help you on it because at the end of the day, you did some foul shit. You deserve everything these Greeks bring to you, and it probably won’t be enough.” He turns to his men, then orders, “We’re done here.” He then says to me, “I’m doing you Greek’s a solid, but don’t get it twisted. After this, if we’re not doing business, you stay on your side of the city and we’ll stay on ours. Don’t worry about the bodies, I’ll have my clean-up crew take care of them when you leave.”

I tilt my head up at him. He does the same as he and his men leave the room.

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