ICE
“Babe, that better have been an accident.”She set it up on her phone so that if it alerts 911, it would also notify myself. I’d just left where Vungle works, or did work as it seems, by asking a few people who walked out of the probation office. Her house didn’t tell me shit. There’s no family, none living at least, that I could find. It’s like smoke and mirrors with this cunt.
“I’m okay, but some woman pulled a gun on me. I currently have a knee to her back, and her hands are there as well. I could really use some help before we gain attention of the blue variety.” I can hear the heaviness in her breathing, somehow remaining calm. I’m envisioning Collins, ear to her phone, using her shoulder to hold it place, exasperated because she’s at work, annoyed in the fact that it’s a job she hates so much. The grumbling of putting on a bra, wearing fancy shit when she would rather wear jeans and a tank top. I’d bet she’s practically sitting on the woman who pulled a gun on her. My woman might be smaller, but she can pack a punch, and her personality makes up for her stature if you get into a tongue-lashing match.
“Can you put her in the car? I’ll call the brothers now. We can be there in ten minutes. Meanwhile, if the cops call you back, let them know it was an accident. We’ll get this figured out.” She said some woman. I’m willing to bet Collins just got some blowback. It’s not like our family or Ol’ Ladies are a secret. We damn sure didn’t put a lockdown in place, which I’m thinking might have been a fuck-up. Had that been anyone but Collins, it could have ended ten times worse.
“Yep, but if you could, you know, move it a bit faster, that would be awesome. She was mentioning selling me to some Damien dude, and while I don’t mind pulling my weight for the club, I’m not too thrilled to have this bitch in my car, mouthing shit off.” Collins is pissed, rightfully so.
“You got it, but I gotta get off the phone in order to do that, babe.”
“Fine, but if I shoot her, you’ll know why, and I’d rather not have blood in my car, Paxton.” I get the full name, but I also know she means business.
“I hear you. Sit tight, and if it looks like someone’s watchin’, do what you gotta do. Love you, babe.”
“Love you.” She hangs up the phone, then I’m calling Rage. Today could have played out differently. I could have gotten a call that wasn’t from her but someone at her work, a passerby, the hospital, the bitch herself who tried to take Collins’ life. Our future could have been over before it really started. That shit is pissing me the fuck off just thinking about it.
“Awfully early for a check-in,” he answers the phone.
“Got an alert that Collins called the cops. She was able to stop it before they were activated, but we’ve got a situation. Going to need a van down at her work. Seems someone is making a play for my Ol’ Lady, in the form of sellin’ her. Thinkin’ this might be Vungle. Could be wrong, but I doubt it. Tell Crush the woman’s his if Collins doesn’t shoot the bitch.” I hear Rage moving on the other end of the line, snapping fingers, keys jangling. He’s already walking out the door.
“Motherfucker. She won’t have to worry about Crush. It’ll be me who kills her. See you there.” He hangs up. I do the same, starting my bike. Collins needs me, and as much anger as I have swimming inside of me, knowing this bitch was going after her, there’s also a feeling of pride. Collins got herself out of a situation. She didn’t cower or let her feelings get in the way, and there’s something to be said for that.