Buried Deep ✔️

Chapter Two [New Power]

The sun beat down on my back and sweat beaded along my neck, only to dissipate whenever a forceful blast of wind rushed through the alley. I strolled along with Holiday and Damen flanking me. We kept our head on the swivel to avoid getting jumped as we made our way through unfamiliar territory. My right hand clasped my pistol hard, the metal leaving imprints in my skin.

We were crossing a section of the Northside's massive territory. They were the largest gang in the city, feared by all. They had strong ties to the Mexican cartel and Cayden had made an alliance with them in an effort to gain power. They usually kept to themselves, but we had to be alert. We didn't want any surprises.

Eventually, we arrived at the Southside's trap house.

It was the heart of all the gang's activities. From the old worn down apartment, Cayden executed James' plans to a T. I climbed the ancient rusty stairs of the fire escape that led up to the apartment, with Damen and Holiday close behind.

We headed down the narrow walkway to the familiar white wooden door. When I opened the door, the stout smell of marijuana greeted me.

My eyes roamed around the living room, where the older members of the gang, the lieutenants, liked to chill. Some of the members were playing cards at a small fold-out table in the kitchen with bottles of liquor by their feet. A couple others sat around the coffee table, taking turns hitting lines of pure white cocaine. The remaining members were spread out on the couch, watching a basketball game on the small box T.V. to my right.

Holiday dropped onto the sofa next to Mason, a baby gangster or BG who had been initiated with me, while Damen made his way over to the guys dealing cards.

Eddie, a large black guy with an afro and tattoos of crosses covering his face, smiled at me from his spot at the table and motioned me over. I made my way to him, stepping over a guy passed out on the floor.

"Spencer. What's up, youngblood?" he asked with a big smile on his face.

Eddie placed a large blunt behind his ear, his eyelids drooping low over his bloodshot eyes. He leaned back in the chair with his arm thrown over the back of it. The light reflected off the silver watch on his wrist.

"Aye, Eddie. Not much. I came here to speak with Cayden. Holiday and Damen said it was something important."

"He's been gone about, eh,"—he glanced down at his watch and then looked back up at me—"an hour now. He should be back soon with the boss."

The word "boss" sent a shot of ice through my veins and my muscles locked.

James had been busted for the murder of a local bar owner. I hadn't been present at the scene, but I heard from other members that the owner had refused to serve a drink to James. Without a second thought, James put a blade through the man's heart. He left the bar with cash in his pockets, a bottle of liquor in his possession, and blood on his hands.

"You mean, 'head honcho,' boss?" I questioned as I watched him spark the end of another blunt.

"Yeah, youngblood. James is coming home. He will love to see his newest YG." Eddie inhaled a deep hit of smoke.

I had been waiting for the day when I would get to meet James. He was my only way of reaching OG status. As an original gangster, you were able to be more laid back; you didn't have to grind so hard. You still touched the money, but you didn't have to get your hands dirty. The runners took that risk for you.

I glanced around the room and then looked back at Eddie, who exhaled the smoke. It hung in the still air between us.

"Bet. This YG can't wait to meet him, bro," I said, smiling at him as I rubbed my hands together.