He gasped realizing that the entire scenario was a setup.
“You fuckin’ b***h!” He lunged for the gun, grabbing its barrel and her wrist. They struggled for control of the weapon. Both of them balling their faces and clenching their jaws.
“This is for my brotha, mothafucka!”
When Blessyn heard that hostile feminine voice at his back, he whipped around and met a face he couldn’t make out because it was in the shade of the hood the person was wearing. The gunman threw the hood from off of his head and revealed their identity. It was Skylar. Her eyelids were rimmed red and her eyes were pink from crying, cheeks slickened wet from tears of grief. She clutched her P-89 with both hands and took aim.
“My brotha, Trip, wanted you to have these!” Her eyes bled her mortal hatred as she snarled, l
