Knee Deep in the Game by Boston George Page A

nigga, Pop,” Fresh answered.
    â€œHe ain’t a rapist or no shit like that right?” she asked, being overprotective of her sister.
    â€œNah, he cool peoples,” Fresh assured his woman.
    â€œYo, what you doing after the club?” Pop asked, hoping the woman didn’t have no plans.
    â€œNothing, why what’s up?” Melissa asked, happy ’cause she really wasn’t ready to go home.
    â€œI’m going to grab something to eat; I was wondering if you would join me,” Pop asked.
    â€œOf course I will,” Melissa said, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m starving.”
    â€œA’ight, let’s go chill over in the VIP section until you ready to be out,” Pop said as he put his hand on her lower back and guided her through the crowd.
    When Pop and Melissa stepped in the VIP section all eyes were on them.
    Even Rusty couldn’t believe that Pop had pulled it off, ’cause back in the day he even tried to holla at Melissa, but had failed miserably.
    Pop and Melissa sat sipping on some champagne as they got to know each other better. While everybody was enjoying themselves, Rusty stood up watching over the crowd, making sure no haters were feeling froggy.
    â€œYo, y’all ready to be out?” Fresh asked his crew once the party started to die down.
    â€œI’m waiting on y’all,” Pop answered, feeling a little tipsy.
    Everybody left the club in packs and met up in the parking lot.
    â€œYo, we are all going to meet up at the small diner a couple of blocks away, a’ight?” Fresh ordered.
    â€œMy sister is going to ride with me, I’ll meet you at the diner,” Melissa said as she kissed Pop on the cheek.
    â€œA’ight, say no more,” Pop replied as he slid in the passenger seat of Pooh’s whip.
    â€œYo, I’m going to check you when you get to the diner,” Fresh said as he playfully slapped Amanda on her butt.
    â€œDon’t start nothing you can’t finish out here, papi ,” Amanda shot back as she slid in the passenger seat of her sister’s ride. Everyone filed into a vehicle and they departed.
    â€œYo, it was mad jump-offs up in there,” Rusty said, stopping at the red light.
    â€œYeah, it was poppin’ in that joint,” Fresh responded, checking the text message he just received from Vanessa.
    â€œI’m hungrier than a mu’fucka,” Rusty said as a minivan cut right in front of him. Rusty saw the doors of the minivan open up and his eyes bucked in surprise.
    â€œWatch out, Fresh, it’s a hit!” Rusty yelled as he threw the Navigator in reverse.
    Before Rusty could step on the gas, another minivan stopped right behind the Navigator, boxing them in.
    Fresh pulled out his .40-caliber, but he was a bit too slow. He quickly ducked down as the bullets started raining in the SUV.
    â€œOh, shit, that’s Fresh and Rusty,” Pop yelled, retrieving his 9 mm from under his seat.
    Pooh quickly pulled up a couple of feet behind the minivan.
    Immediately, Pop sprang from the passenger seat, letting off four thunderous shots. Two of the four shots took out two of the gunmen. Once the other gunman saw Pop letting off shots, they immediately turned their attention to Pooh’s truck.
    Pooh and Pop quickly took cover behind the truck as the gunmen’s bullets made loud pinging noises as they connected with the truck. When Rusty noticed the bullets stop raining, he immediately pulled out his Dessert Eagle and pulled the trigger at the first gunman he saw.
    As Rusty went to hop out the truck he noticed that Fresh was bleeding.
    â€œStay down, my nigga,” Rusty yelled as he slid out the truck and continued to let his Desert Eagle bark.
    Once the gunmen saw that the shoot out was no longer one-sided, they desperately hopped back in their vans and fled the scene.
    â€œYo, Pop, I need some help over here—Fresh got hit,” Rusty yelled, waving Pop