He coldly walked toward the girlfriend and repeated the same action, firing a bullet into her face at close range. Her body dropped face-down against the kitchen floor.
They hurried out the front door, God with the smoking gun still in his hand, and moved for their car parked across the street. They left the house with less than a hundred dollars, and God didn’t plan on sharing it with Charlie.
Pyro watched the couple leave the Queens home in urgency. He bolted from his car with a .50 Cal Desert Eagle in his hand, a gun strong enough to bring down a charging elephant. The weapon wasn’t meant to leave anyone alive.
Although he’d given Chanel his word not to harm her sister, this was his only opportunity to avenge Mateo’s shooting, and he was going to take it. He charged toward the couple and started to cut loose the cannon in his hands—Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The gunshots echoed through the streets like thunder, the rounds shattered car windows, and one bullet dangerously grazed God’s ribcage. He stumbled and went down near the car. Charlie immediately ducked to the ground and was dumbfounded by the sudden attack, but she was miraculously spared. She had no idea who was shooting at them or why.
“Oh shit! Oh shit, what the fuck! Shit, I’m fuckin’ hit!” God cried out in a panic. He could feel the warm blood against his skin and his adrenaline pumping.
Charlie provided him some cover when she fired back at Pyro, causing him to take cover behind a parked car. The distraction gave God and her just enough time to thrust themselves into the car they came in. God hurried to start it, and they peeled away from the scene, tires screeching and speeding away from Pyro trying to kill them both.
“Shit!” Pyro shouted. He’d missed his shot.
God felt like he had been hit with a large brick that came at him lightening speed. He was hit, but when Charlie inspected the wound, she told him that all he needed was a few stitches and a maybe a band-aid. The bullet had only grazed him, and the wound wasn’t too deep.
“That muthafucka was from your sister’s man—his friend,” God exclaimed. “She fuckin’ sent him.”
“How do you know?”
“I got a good look at him.”
“What beef does he have wit’ you?”
God didn’t reply right away. He had to think about things. “I don’t know!”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I said I don’t fuckin’ know! It fuckin’ looked like him—you know all them spics look alike.”
“What the fuck is goin’ on, God!”
“Dude must think we robbed his man!”
“You did!”
“We did, bitch, and don’t you ever fuckin’ forget that shit.”
Charlie cringed at hearing her affiliation out loud. “Anyway, how would he know? I ain’t talking. Chanel’s scary ass don’t know shit and Mateo has one foot in the grave.”
“Well somebody’s snitching, and it’s either you or you told Claire and she’s talking. I swear on my life I’ll kill y’all bitches if I get jammed up!”
“Snitchin’!” The word offended Charlie. She rejected the insult. “Are you dumb?”
Things got heated inside the car. Their last lick was a flop, God was slightly injured, and they were still broke. Charlie was willing to stick by her man, but she knew he was lying to her. Since she’d set her sister up, their luck had been changing and things were going downhill.
“I know this is your fault, bitch!” God cursed.
“What? My fault? Fuck you! Fuck you, nigga!” she yelled.
Charlie couldn’t control herself. While God was trying to drive the car, she put her hands on him, smacking him in the face and punching him everywhere. The car swerved on the road and God had to pull to the side to keep from crashing. Charlie was going off. God reacted and punched her in the face. It felt like he had broken her nose. The blood became thick over her mouth.
“You fuckin’ bastard!” she shouted.
“Get the fuck out, Charlie!”
Charlie refused to leave. So, God irritably got out of the driver’s seat, and even though shot and injured, he forcefully removed Charlie from the passenger seat. She tried to resist, but God threw her to the pavement, kicked her in her side, and left her there.