Maxine asked. “Easier than taking candy from a baby.” Gruff rubbed the head of his pit bull. “Ain’t that right, Tiger,” he said, talking to his dog. He had raised the dog since she was a puppy, and now the pit bull looked like a monster. Gruff wasn’t into robbing and sticking people up for the money. Of course, the money was good, but he did it for the name and street rep, which meant everything to him. He wanted his name to ring bells forever when he left the earth. “What’s this clown’s name again?” Maxine asked as she loaded her .357. “Some clown named Carlos.” Gruff stood up. “Trust me, this nigga don’t want no drama. He gon’ give it up with no problem.” He stuck his twin 9 mm’s in his shoulder holsters. “Come on, Tiger,” he said, and him and his partners in crime headed out the door. “I should be done with this in about two days,” Carlos said with a smirk on his face. “A’ight,” Young Mike said. “Just holla at me when you need to see me again.”
