Knee Deep in the Game by Boston George Page A

her hips. “Don’t fuckin’ play with me, Fresh, ’cause you know I don’t be with all that bullshit,” she warned.
    Once Fresh heard Amanda start talking in Spanish he knew she was heated. “Listen, baby, calm down for a second, I told you I don’t know no fuckin’ Vanessa,” he lied again.
    â€œWell, she sure as hell know who you are,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes. “Now explain.”
    â€œAin’t nothing to explain,” Fresh said. “I don’t know who sent them shits.”
    â€œFuck you, Fresh, you a real piece of shit you know that? I’m out of here. You about to lose a good thing. Perdedor !” Amanda said, calling him a loser as she stormed out of the room.
    â€œDamn,” Fresh said, looking up at the ceiling. he didn’t know what the fuck Amanda was saying, but he knew he had just fucked-up big time. He figured Amanda would come back eventually, or so he thought.
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    â€œListen, I don’t want no bullshitting when we get in there, we going to smoke everybody in the mu’fuckin’ house pointblank,” Rusty stated as the rest of the crew loaded their weapons. Everybody in the crew wore all black like Rusty had instructed.
    â€œI’m laying something down tonight!” Pooh said, admiring the shotgun he clutched with two hands.
    â€œThree men in each van,” Rusty said as the crew split up into two different vans.
    Pop could tell by the look on Rusty’ s face that it was about to go down like a plane crash.
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    â€œYo, King, you ain’t ready yet?” Bamboo yelled to the next room.
    â€œBe there in a second,” King responded. He stood in the next room strapping on his bulletproof vest and making sure his twin .45s were fully loaded.
    â€œDamn, nigga, it took you long enough,” Bamboo said, ready to take his wife out for her birthday. “You know we got reservations,” he reminded the big man.
    â€œSorry about that, boss man,” King apologized.
    â€œWhy don’t you lay off him a little bit?” Nancy said, walking toward the front door.
    â€œThe rest of you mu’fuckas find something to do, just don’t disrespect my house,” Bamboo instructed as he, Nancy, and King headed out the front door.
    Once in the all-black Denali with smoke-tinted windows, King made the engine come to life and headed for the restaurant. As King drove toward the highway he noticed two mini-vans back-to-back speed past him. The bodyguard paused for a second then paid the mini-vans no mind, and continued toward the high way.
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    â€œYo, me, Pop, and Pooh going through the front door, you three take the back door,” Rusty ordered, screwing the silencers on his twin 9 mm’s.
    Once Pooh reached the front door, he aimed his shotgun at the door and shot it off the hinges. Boom!
    Rusty was the first one in the house, followed by Pop. “Everybody on the fuckin’ floor now!” Pop yelled, letting two shots off into the ceiling to let the men in the house know he meant business.
    Seconds later, the three other gunmen came busting through the back door. Each man wore a ski mask making sure their identity was concealed. Once they had control of the situation, Rusty made sure he shot each man in the back of the head one by one execution-style.
    â€œWhat we do now?” Pooh asked.
    â€œWe wait,” Rusty answered quickly as he cut off all the lights in the house.
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    Bamboo and Nancy were enjoying their meal, while King stood up watching over the rest of the rich people eat their food, making sure no trouble came the couple’s way.
    â€œThis shit is the bomb,” Bamboo said, cutting off another piece of his steak and placing it in his mouth.
    â€œThanks, baby, for taking me to my favorite restaurant,” Nancy said, sipping on her watermelon martini. “It’s just sad that the only time we get to go out together is