“Fuck!” Fabian shouted as he began to pace back and forth in the room. He was torn. He didn’t want to see the wrath of the Murder Mamas, but at this point, he felt like he was in too deep. He couldn’t turn back now. He pointed his gun at Miamor, deciding to just kill her and get it over with. His finger wrapped around the trigger, but when his eyes met hers, he saw the devil in them. His lip began to quiver. He lowered his weapon. “I know you’re not just going to let me get away with this. Even if I don’t kill you, you’re going to come for me.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Miamor said. “The point is that you have a chance to live if you don’t kill me. You show me favor, I might show you mercy. But if you kill me, then you might as well set your watch, nigga, because within the week, you’ll be eating hollow points.”
Fabian fidgeted, his hand began to shake, and he put his hands over his ears to drown out her words. “Set your watch, nigga! You’ll be eating hollow points within the week.” Miamor’s words echoed through his brain, and what had started out as a planned murder was becoming a game of survival of the fittest.
Fabian didn’t know it, but he had just transferred the power right back into Miamor’s hands by letting her fuck with his psyche. If he had been smart, he would have killed her quick, but he had given her time to think. He had given her the opportunity to bring it to his ass, without even knowing that she had just conquered him mentally. No doubt about it, if Miamor was a nigga, she would have been an American Gangster. She was just that crucial. Even while teetering at the edge of death, she refused to lose.