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cycleofchances-ff

10 years ago

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cycleofchances-ff

11 years ago

I like Dutchess and Nami relationship, they kind of balance each other out. And I don't like how they just beat up Beau, where were his boys. They should've got handled too especially Boogz.

They do balance each other out a bit, but I’m not sure it’ll always be that way. It’s always quiet before a storm, but for now Dutch and Nami are a go. When Beau got jumped he was in Dutch’s room alone, Jay hadn’t even gotten to the hospital yet and Boogz' stupid ass was somewhere sleeping his alcohol off. Thanks for the feedback love, I appreciate it!

Prologue: Make It Home

Dutchess

E 101st & 3rd Ave

2:56 a.m

“Where you at?” Nami asked on the other line. Her voice was raspy and I could tell she was fighting sleep.

“I’m almost home, I just made my last run and I’m a few blocks away I’ll be there in no time babe.”

“Well shit, pedal faster I’m about to heat up this cheesecake and I already set up The Golden Girls on Netflix.” She said with urgency.

“Who heats up cheesecake? Country bumpkin ass” I chuckled as I rode through the avenues completely oblivious to my city around me. I had one mission in mind; get to my bed in record time. I’ve been running without good sleep for two weeks and I’m ready to crash. The thought of my bed caused me to pedal a bit harder.

“I do!” She said giggled, “Don’t try me.” She said her thick Memphis accent coming through.

“Alright, alright let me go so I can pay attention,” I said with all seriousness.

“Gotchu see you soon baby.” She said hanging up as I came up to a red light I slowed my pedaling to a halt.

Taking time to look at the city around me. So alive and active, bodies shifting quickly across the street trying to get to the other side before the red hand popped up. The taxi cab next to me so in a hurry for the light to change to get to his next fare. Even at such a late hour everyone was in such a hurry and had somewhere to be.

I saw an opening and I took it, having a bike as opposed to a car makes maneuvering through NY traffic a breeze. Us bike riders have our own community, albeit underground it’s a community nonetheless. We’ve carved out our own lane in traffic it’s the quickest way to get around the city completely undetected. Need something delivered?

My crew or I can have it delivered to wherever you need it to go in a time friendly and discreet manner. You wouldn’t believe the type of shit have delivered and how much they’ll pay just to have it brought to them in the fashion that we bring it. Business has been great, quite lucrative and we’ve managed to stay below the radar for years. We took the streets by storm and we did it in an unconventional manner.

I increased my speed as I pedaled through past the red light and instantly saw a blaring set of headlights coming towards me from my right side. There was no was I could avoid them, whoever was behind the wheel was swerving between lanes recklessly. They were coming too fast. I saw them, but it was like they didn’t see me and had no intentions of slowing down.

Beau

I looked out the passenger window as Harlem whipped past me in a flash. Street signs began to blur with red lights. Intersections and crosswalks all looked the same. This nigga had lead in his foot and liquor in his veins.

“Yo Boogz son chill! You keep this shit up and you’re either gonna hurt us or someone else!” I yelled over A$AP F3RG blaring through the speakers while clinging to the dashboard as he swerved through lanes. I could here the other drivers on the road honking their horns around us.

“Relax!” he cackled, “I got this, you know I’m the MCLAREN KING NIGGA!!!” He yelled at the top of his lungs and pushed his foot on the gas pedal. “I whip shit like this on the regular” he slurred.

“Bullshit! I just got this shit today you whip Fiats on a regular nigga. Now slow down!” He was two seconds away from kissing a tree or a lamppost, I knew I shouldn’t have let him drive my shit, my new shit. My dude has been going through some shit lately so I thought maybe letting him take the whip out for a bit would lift his spirits. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way, but isn’t that how it always works out when some shit is about to go down?

“You just sit back and enjoy the ride son,” He said as he hiccupped from the Henny he had been sipping earlier “I got you” he said patting my shoulder confidently. Why do drunk niggas always swear they got everything under control.

“I hear you son I really do, but you’re doing 120 on the dash right now. You need to slow down.” I said as calmly as possibly, almost reasoning with him. Seeing that the light up ahead was turning yellow I figured he’d slow down and I could talk him into letting me drive. For a hot second I almost got through to him.

“How much you wanna bet I can make it before the light turns red?” He turned and looked at me with blood shot red eyes and an impish grin. Before I could respond he floored it, throwing my body back into my seat. I saw a figure moving up ahead, but I didn’t want to believe that it was in the directly in front of our lane.

“YO BOOGZ CHILL MY NIGGA YOU GONNA HIT THE BIKE?!” I yelled trying to get him to slow down.

“What?” He said turning his head for a second.

Moments later I felt the airbag smashing into my face. Signaling the worst, what has my nigga just done.

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Prologue: Make It Home