ANYTHING 4 PROFIT (ANYTHING FOR PROFIT) by Justin Amen Floyd Read Free Book Online Page B

and you die. See how simple that is.”  The man’s voice was slightly muffled from the mask.
    Twan was still in complete shock from the situation.  He could only nod his head “yes.”                                                                                                         
                 “Alright, where’s the stash at?” The masked man to his right asked.                           
                  Twan finally remembered how to move his lips and talk.  He said, “Look man, I-I-I d-don’t keep no money here at the house.”                                                                                                            
                 “Wrong answer,” stated the masked man to his left.  He already knew that was a lie. He walked over to the bed and began beating Twan mercilessly with the butt of his black .44 magnum. Twan balled up in the fetal position and tried to avoid any more damage to his face.  It was already bleeding and swollen in several places.  From the looks of it, his nose had to be broken because it was gushing blood.                                                                                                            
                 “Now we gon try this one mo’ time!” yelled the man who had just finished pistol whipping Twan. “Where the fuck the stash at!?”                                      
                 “Man l-listen, I swear on my m-m-mama’s life there ain’t no money in here,” Twan stuttered. His normally deep baritone had become a falsetto.                                                                                                      
                 “Wrong answer,” stated the other masked assailant. “It looks like he wanna be brave, and do this shit the hard way,” the man said to his partner.                                                                     
                  Meka finally spoke up.  “Twan, please just give them the money! It’s not worth our lives, baby!”                                                                                                          
                 “You better listen to ya’ girl, dog. She tryna save you a lot of pain and suffering.”
      Twan just remained silent.                                                                                       
                  “Look here, nigga. It’s too late for you to be tryna play tough guy after you done already shit on yo’self.”
      Twan still refused to speak.
      The masked man on the left said, “Alright, fuck it.”  He placed the pistol on the bottom of Twan’s foot, and squeezed the trigger. Blood, bone, and pieces of flesh splattered everywhere, and Twan screamed at the top of his lungs.  He sounded like a wounded animal being devoured by a hungry predator.
                  Now Twan realized the seriousness of the situation.  It wasn’t a game. Half of his foot was missing.  He finally spoke, his voice quavering with fear.  “It’s… it’s in the closet,” he whimpered.       
                 “Speak up, mothafucka! I can’t hear you,”