Page 41 of Gang of Roses: Dice

Rebel and Kash were already moving before the smoke had a chance to settle, rifles trained on the two guards in the front.

“Open the damn door!” Kash yelled.

That left me to handle the two men in the back until the two in the front were tied together. They worked fast, lightning fast, and Rebel was by my side within seconds.

The AR-15 I had pulled from the backpack we all wore was ready to take all headshots. Greg’s whining ass voice was heard from the front and was slightly throwing me the fuck off.

“Shut that bitch ass nigga up!” I yelled.

“My pleasure,” Kash said.

She was with the shits because she hit his ass across the head with the butt of her gun, and he was knocked out cold.

Ugh! And he wondered why he was only on second base.

“I hope yo’ ass didn’t give that nigga none,” Rebel whispered to me, but we were all connected, so Kash heard it.

“I hope not either,” Kash chimed in.

“Picture that. Now, get yo’ ass back here. Looks like we got some brave soldiers.”

The two men in the back were still holding their guns just as steady as me and Rebel held ours, trained on them.

“Well, ain’t they brave?” Kash teased.

She was by our side within seconds. Police sirens could be heard from a distance. Traffic was still thick, so we had a few more minutes added to our time, but not much.

“You bitch ass niggas ready to die over somebody else’s money?” I asked, ready to paint these crackers so we can cut out.

“You ain’t getting on this truck,” the potbelly spoke.

BANG!

Kash shot him in the knee, and he dropped down, still holding on to his gun.

“Last warning.”

“We can’t let yo…”

BANG!

He was cut off because Rebel drilled him in the shoulder. Gang of Roses rarely, if ever, negotiated, but if I shot, it was going between his eyes. Fuck the dumb shit.

Before anyone could speak, the other guard from the back spoke up.

“Look, Scott, I got a wife and three children to go home to. I’m not about to die over this money,” the other guy said, dropping his weapon, and jumping down from the truck, no longer wanting to be a part of the standoff. Kash kept her weapon trained on the guy until he lay face-first on the ground without any problems, leaving Scott to fight the losing battle alone.

“Smart decision.”

The man jumped down, and Kash placed a chloroform-soaked cloth over his mouth. He was out like the others.

The stubborn-ass big-belly dude we now knew as Scott was hollerin’ out in pain but was still trying to keep his weapons trained on us.

“What’s it gonna be, Scott?” Rebel asked, trying to save his life.

“You not ge…,” he started, but I cut him off.

“We done talking, Scott.” I gave a quick shrug. “We tried.”