𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Chapter 21

Jahserih Seraph Wilkins

(Jah-sir-ray) - Jah - Saint

Chapter 21: Rounds

Trap: March 23, 20XX

I cocked my gun after reloading my magazine with more bullets, sighing at the mess going on in the trap.

"Niggas leave for damn near 4 days and shit go wrong already?" I eyed Trey.

"Hell, it ain't my fault," Trey shrugged, I listened as Ron mugged him from behind me.

"What the fuck could go wrong if I left a entire fucking list for y'all niggas to complete? Y'all can't follow simple instructions?" Ron mugged, I nodded my head.

He wasn't wrong. We just found out that three packages of weed, Xanax's, Percs, and some more shit were stolen from our plug. Even worse, somebody from the inside had to do that shit. Meaning, it's niggas that betrayed us. The problem is finding out who.

"Who the fuck did y'all send to collect the shit?" I sighed, resting my hand on my head. Ion understand how over a hundred niggas can't keep count of shit when I'm gone. It makes me question how niggas even started in the business. And this shit ain't no game, I have people to take care of and shit to do. I can't spend all my time at the trap like I use to, it's senior year and I gotta think about what I want to do with my life. Ion wanna slave at the trap forever.

"We don't know," Wayne answered. "All we know is that he's associated with one of the shareholders."

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath. If this shit was true, it's gon be war from inside.

"Man, whatever."

Ron and I watched as Trey and Wayne walked out of my office and into the corridor.

"Who the fuck you think it is?" I asked Ron while analyzing the text messages sent from the plug.

Our plug was out of state, considering it's illegal to sell shit we were selling in South Carolina. If we could find out who went to them, we could pinpoint which nigga was stealing shit for his shareholder. But even then, it would be complicated as hell to diffuse the situation.

"Ion know," Ron replied. "Shit, it could be anyone."

"That's true," I confessed. "Only nigga we know it's not is Stunna, that nigga on his deathbed."

"And we can exit ourselves out, meaning we gon have to look into the others soon." Ron added.

I nodded my head before standing up and slipping my gun in my pants. "I gotta go somewhere," I told Ron, grabbing my black backpack.

"To yo parents?" He asked concerned, I sighed.

"Yeah. I'll be Ight." I shrugged, but he ain't buy it.

"You want me to come with you nigga?"

"Hell nah, I got some shit to talk about with them. I'll be straight."

"Ight man, call if you need me."

"Fosho." I replied, dapping Ron up. I exited the trap and got in my SRT, zooming to my parent's gravesite.

Today was the anniversary of their death and like every year, I came up to pay my respects. I never found out what happened that day and why things happened the way they did, but my parents tried their best to provide me as well a life as they could when they was still alive. I swallowed 3 percs down with the water bottle I had earlier before turning off my car. I grabbed the red roses from my backseat and began walking up to their graves.