Chapter Two
Momma stepped out of the tub and snatched her towel off the rack, drying off. She wrapped the towel around her and sauntered into her bedroom. She grabbed a bottle of lotion and sat down on the bed, proceeding to rub some up and down her legs at a time. Hearing her cellular ring on the nightstand, she glanced at its screen. Seeing who it was, she picked it up and adjusted her Bluetooth on her ear, answering the call.
"Yes?" Momma asked as she continued to lotion up her legs and arms. When she heard the news of the girls escaping from the crash and her Russian chaperones being killed, she stopped putting lotion on.
"What the fuck? Those bitches! Gemme a second!" She pulled open the top drawer of her nightstand and took out a device the size of a Kindle Fire reader.
She operated it through its touchscreen, opening a window that showed two red dots with names beside them, moving through a mapped layout of Las Vegas.
"Look, stay on 'em no matter what. If they're running, then they've probably removed the tracking devices." Momma disconnected the call and opened a smaller window in the corner of the map, which gave an option to detonate. She tapped the detonate option.
***
Fear, Ariel, and the exotic woman ran out of the 76-Gas station restroom. Fear was still holding a hunting knife with a bloody tip in his hand. He'd just removed the tracking devices from behind the girl's ear that doubled as an explosive. As they were hauling ass back to Fear's whip, they spotted two black leather-clad motorcyclists zipping up the block and looking in their direction.
Ka-boom!
The restroom suddenly exploded, and everyone dove to the ground, narrowly missing the restroom's door flying toward their heads. Fire and smoke rushed out of the restroom's doorway. When one of the motorcyclists saw the explosion, he motioned for the other motorcyclist to follow him and they sped toward the gas station. Fear saw the motorcyclists speeding in their direction. He grasped Ariel's hand, and she, in turn, grasped Constance's hand. Together, they dashed to his whip and jumped in. Fear fired up the stolen Dodge and sped out of the gas station lot. Looking up in the rearview mirror, he saw the motorcyclists heading for them.
"Oh, shit! They're coming for us! They're fucking coming for us!" Ariel said in a panic, looking through the back window and seeing the motorcyclists.
"Who the fuck are they?" Fear asked, looking back and forth between the windshield and Constance. She was in the front passenger seat, looking in the side-view mirror at the motorcyclists, too.
"Hunter Killaz!" Constance answered, her eyes glued to the side-view mirror.
"What the fuck are Hunter Killaz?" Fear's forehead creased, wondering.
"They work for Momma," Constance answered, watching the Hunter Killaz get closer and closer. "They're like the fucking slave catchers of the twenty-first century. Their job is to catch us and bring us back-dead or alive," when she said this, she looked Fear right in his eyes. The look in her eyes told him that she was dead serious.
Drake is really making me work for my coins tonight, isn't he? Fear thought of the businessman that had hired him to rescue his daughter, Ariel.
He popped open the glove box and removed a Tech-9, passing it to Constance. He smacked the glove box shut and watched her with the semi-automatic. Lil' mama was examining it like she was trying to figure out how to use it.
"Look, cock the slide on it, point it at the mothafuckaz that's tryna kill us, and pull the trigger. Simple enough, right?" Fear looked at Constance and she nodded.
She checked the magazine of the Tech-9 and made sure it was fully loaded. Once she smacked it back into the semi-automatic, she cocked it, and hung halfway out of the passenger window. The air rushed against Constance, ruffling her locs and dress. She held the Tech-9 firmly in her hands and aimed it at the motorcyclist closest to her. At the same time, he was lifting his Mac-10, but she already had the drop on him. Constance pulled the trigger of the Tech-9 and it vibrated in her hands, spitting fire. Bullets zipped up the motorcyclist's torso, chest, and shattered the sun-visor of his helmet. The motorcyclist went limp on his Ducati Supersport and it went off course to his right.
Craaaashhh!
The dead motorcyclist's Ducati slammed into the back of a parked Yukon Denali. The impact lifted him off his bike, making him do a back flip in the air, landing flat on his back.
"He's coming, he's coming!" Ariel screamed from the back seat.
The second motorcyclist had drawn his Mac-10 and was speeding alongside the Dodge. Constance tried to draw a bead on him with her Tech-9, but he'd gotten out of her sight. The motorcyclist was quickly moving up alongside the Dodge. He had planned to murder Fear which would immobilize his vehicle, leaving the female passengers at his mercy. Fear saw the motorcyclist on the side of him, pointing his Mac-10 right at him. He grabbed the motorcyclist's wrist and pointed his semi-automatic in a different direction, as it fired rapidly.
"Oh, you done fucked up! You done really fucked up now!" Fear scowled, looking back and forth between the motorcyclist and the windshield. He was holding the motorcyclist's wrist with one hand and steering the car with the other. Constance was trying to get a shot at the motorcyclist, but Fear was in the way.
Meanwhile, Ariel was lying on the backseat screaming her fucking head off. She really wasn't used to this gangsta ass shit!
"You fucked with the wrong one, nigga! The wrong fucking one!" Fear mashed the gas pedal to the floor, speeding up the Dodge. He was going so fast that the cars parked on either side of him turned into blurs.
Ba-boom!
The motorcyclist slammed into the side-view mirror of a parked Ford Explorer. The impact knocked him off his Ducati Supersport and sent it tumbling down the street. Fear looked at the side view mirror and saw the motorcyclist tumbling out into the intersection, stopping. The motorcyclist who was obviously in pain, slowing started to get up. Speeding motorists whipped back and forth across the motorcyclist, narrowly missing him, and madly honking their horns. When the motorcyclist looked up, he saw a big ass Mac truck coming at him full speed ahead. He screamed and threw up his arms. The next minute the Mac truck ran him over, crushing him. First, there were the front wheels, then the middle wheels, and finally the back wheels. The Mac truck screeched to a stop! The only thing left in the intersection of the motorcyclist was a pile of bloody, mutilated flesh.
Fear was looking at the tragic ending of the motorcyclist the entire time through the side-view mirror. He threw his head back laughing maniacally at his expense. He looked at Constance and Ariel and they were laughing as well. They all smacked each other high-fives.
***
"Shiiittt!" Momma threw her device in a fit of rage and it ricocheted off the wall. The device allowed her to see everything from the Hunter Killaz' point of view. She'd just witnessed the last one being run over by an eighteen-wheeler.
***
On the ride back to Los Angeles, Fear stopped by 7-11 to pick up some peroxide, A & D ointment, and needle and thread. He cleaned the wounds behind Ariel and Constance's ears, applied the ointment to it and stitched it up. Four hours later, Fear was pulling inside the parking lot of Burger King, located in the city of Hawthorne on El Segundo Blvd. This was where he was supposed to link up with Ariel's father, Drake.
"Fuck is yo pops, Ariel? Nigga was 'pose to have been here." Fear glanced at his digital timepiece.
At that exact moment, a sleek, black Mercedes-Benz sprinter van pulled up beside Fear's Dodge Challenger and the side door of it opened. A white nigga in a fitted black suit hopped out wearing an earpiece. If Fear didn't know any better, he would have sworn that homeboy was One Time. But he knew Hahn didn't fuck with anyone who dealt with the police. That meant that old boy had to be a part of Drake's professional security team who had a license to kill. Fear believed this wholeheartedly because Drake wasn't involved in the streets. He had his hands in legitimate businesses. That's how he made his bread. He only had Hahn's contact for situations like this. You know when a nigga couldn't call the police. He had to hit up some certified killaz who didn't mind dropping a body or two to get shit done.
Once the security guard stepped out, he stood at the rear of the van and kept a close eye on things. The other security riding in the van hopped out. He went to stand at the grill of the van to keep his eyes on things. If any drama popped off, they'd lay down their lives to protect their boss and his daughter. They were being paid a small fortune to do so, so they didn't mind.
Drake was the last one to step out of the van. He was all smiles when he laid his eyes on his daughter. He opened his arms to her as she hopped out of the car and ran around it with her arms opened. She and her father embraced. Her body shook as she cried her eyes out. Tears accumulated in Drake's eyes and threatened to fall too, but he blinked them back. No matter how touching the moment was, he preferred to show strength at all times. That was just the type of man he'd always been.
"Oh, daddy, I thought I'd never see you again. I love you so...
