“Nichelle, we gotta get that money out ya spot so Butta’s connect can be paid.” Shawn said as they stood in front of the hospital.

“There’s no money in my house. Butta took it,” she lied through her teeth.

Sincere walked up. “Butta took what?”

“She’s saying Butta got his money already,” Shawn commented in a tone of disbelief.

Sincere eyed Nichelle for moment. Kisa might’ve been right ’bout Nichelle setting Butta up, he thought. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” Nichelle questioned, afraid that they suspected her involvement.

“To check ya car then ya apartment,” Sincere responded.

“You can check whateva you want.” Nichelle shot back with confidence, knowing that they wouldn’t find the money because she’d already hidden it at a home she’d recently purchased on Long Island. No one, including Butta, knew about the house. “My car is parked up on 116th.”

As the trio walked up Amsterdam, they suddenly found themselves under attack as bullets flew at them. Shawn and Sincere both pulled out their guns as they ducked behind an illegally parked cab. Nichelle ducked down and crawled until she was out of the line of fire, then got up and ran.

When Shawn stood up and fired a few shots, he saw the two men who were firing at them but couldn’t make out their faces. He ducked back down and yelled over to Sincere, “I don’t know these niggas.”

Sincere raised up, firing off a few shots. He caught a glimpse of the two but didn’t recognize them either. Shawn stood to let off another shot, but was shocked when he saw one of the men aim his gun at the other and shoot him in the head twice.

“Oh shit,” Shawn gasped.

“You hit?” Sincere asked.

“No, but dude just shot his boy in the head.”

Sincere peeped over the trunk of the taxi and watched as the man took the gun out of the dead man’s hand. “What kind of shit is these niggas on?” The man then ran back to the opposite side of the street and got into a waiting burgundy X5. Sincere looked at the female who was driving, “I know that chick,” he mumbled, trying to remember where he knew her from.

“Sin cut ya phone off and drop it in the gutta.”

“For what?”

“’Cause we gotta be out.”

Sincere complied easily, for he knew the drill all too well when it came to being on the run. He wanted badly to call Kisa, but there was no time. With sirens approaching in the distance, they sprinted the two blocks to Shawn’s Navigator. Shawn drove straight to a monthly parking garage, where they abandoned the truck for Shawn’s dark blue Maxima. It was the 2002 model, but it was in mint condition and reserved for moments like this.

When Eisani and Kennedy arrived at the hospital, they practically ran into the waiting room. Kisa could tell by their faces that something else had happened, “E, what’s wrong?”