Page 73 of Stay Dangerous

“South East?” I couldn’t help but whine. “The fuck was they doing in South East?!”

“Six-Owe-Tres, taking OG Six Ball’s new Wrangler. Ty-Ty already hit up a chop shop that’ll be discreet in repainting it, and then I’ma let him have it for his troubles.”

My face scrunched up before I shook my head. “Leave it to yo ass to be backhanded.”

“What can I say?” he cheesed, before his eyes shifted in front of us and he let out a curse.

An Altima skirted onto the curb in front of us, not even stopping before the front and back passenger doors opened.

“You Birch bitches a long way from home,” this bitch ass nigga Reggie gritted.

Low on the totem pole, but killing P-Nutty and Luney would damn near crown him king.

“Nigga, fuck–”

The hairs on the back of my neck went ramrod straight, just as I noticed a navy blue wrangler raised up on monster truck wheels, barrelling toward us.

I fisted Nutty’s shirt on his shoulder, and pulled us out of the way, just as the wrangler plowed into the altima, and them niggas.

I mean,plowed.

Kept going, running into the gate, whipping around at the last second to miss the house, and roll back onto the street.

A whoop rang out of the car, before Ty-Ty stuck his head out. “Let’s go! We got incoming!” he yelled, grinning like we were in a video game.

Peanut and I got off the ground and boosted ourselves up into the back, before the car spun around and we were flying back from where they came.

“Autumn?! The fuck?!” Peanut yelled, just as I took in the girl, Snow’s sister, in the driver’s seat.

“P-p-please, shut up,” she stammered, as she switched gears. I ain’t even know people still learned to drive stick, besides Ty-Ty.

“Where Turk?!”

“Shit, prolly at the Center by now. Y’all heard me? I said we got incoming.” Ty-Ty looked back and grinned again before showing us some shit that definitely shouldn’t be in the hands of civilians.

Peanut was in awe. “The fuck you get that?”

“Shit was in the fuckin’ trunk! Aight, Autumn. You got this shit, mamas. Don’t take yo’ fuckin’ foot off that gas!”

I looked over the center console and saw what the hell had my cousin so hyped, before cutting my eyes to Peanut.

“You sat the fuck down for the rest of the year,” I muttered, as Ty-Ty opened the sunroof and climbed up.

Peanut waved me off as we rolled down the windows. I handed Ty-Ty the rocket launcher from the front seat before hanging out the window and letting it rip.

Autumn started screaming as them Piru niggas began shooting back, but at least the windshield was bulletproofed.

Ty-Ty pulled his trigger and screamed, “Now, Autumn! MAKE A LEFT!”

She swerved hard as hell, getting us on two wheels, blowing through the light as we turned left on Hemlock. The ground shook as Ty-Ty hit his target, and we knew they wouldn’t be coming for us.

He took his time coming back inside the car, his shirt blackened from smoke, and one sleeve blooming with fresh blood.

“I think I got grazed. FUCK! I wanted this car bad. Take us to the riverwalk, mamas. We gotta torch it.” Nigga had the nerve to be looking out the window, sulking.

“I ain’t know you had whips like that, Autumn. You damn near need a hood name,” Peanut cackled. “Maybe Whips.”

“Nah,” Ty-Ty chuckled, “fasho should be something wild, like ‘Wrangler.’”