Guitar Gangsters And Cadillac Blood Novels & Stories

As quickly as Rancid had found fresh air to breathe, the door to the jail opened and the sheriff stepped inside holding a shotgun head high. Without hesitation the lawman stepped up to Rancid, pointed the barrel at his face and shot his head off splashing Isaac with brains, bone and blood. Rancid’s dead body fell to the floor in a heap l ying next to the fuming deputy. “Back in the cell,” the sheriff said to Isaac, and Isaac complied.

His foot slams down the gas pedal. The Cadillac slams forward and to the left, over the edge of the ditch and airborne, just as Bill gets a hand on Frank’s gun, which Frank has already pulled from his pants, gunshots bursting everybody’s eardrums as the dashboard explodes. The car crunches into the far side of the ditch and Frank, without a seatbelt holding him back, tumbles through the windshield with the greatest of ease, his bones snap-crackle-popping on the way.

There was no knowing how many rounds, bang, bang, and when the pistol stopped designing, Li Jie, hiding in another window, saw all four of them changing their magazines. Li Jie felt a toothache, these gangsters are too unprofessional, even one breath four people all shot out the bullets. After all, it's only the small gangs that deal in hashish, and the really big gangs do the big business of Kal Caine. How many elites can a small gang have? African-American gangs, in particular, pick up guns and never aim

He responded. “What?” I asked, confused, what the hell is going on? “They are called the tiger gang and all their members have the same tattoo. They are mostly involved in drug trafficking and robbery. I'm surprised they are involved in blackmail. It's not in their Modus Operandi. There must be more to this than we thought.” He explained, and I heard the sound of books ruffling in the background. “And you’re sure he knew about the video?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, anger bubbling to the surface.

she scolded. “I'm sorry, Bianca,” I paced back and forth in my bedroom, worry gnawing my mind. I defended, “But you know I wouldn't have reached out to you if I didn't have a big problem.” She sighed, “So what's this problem about?” “I want to know about a gang that has a star tattooed on their neck,” I described some no further details to her and asked, “Who are they?” Bianca sucked her teeth thrice, “Bad news. They are from the White Star gang, the fourth largest gang in the country. Their leader, Duncan was just released from prison a few months ago after he raped his wife's mother.”

I could already read the ‘gangster’ and ‘delinquent bastard’ she's called me in her head. She leaned forward as she cut into her steak. “So… how did our well-mannerer Caden end up with a … fine young man as yourself?” I almost laughed. The woman almost called me a fucking bastard. Jeremy smiled. “He looked like something a tattoo gun chewed and spat out. Don't get me wrong I have tattoos but at least I'm not covered in them like some mafia soldiers.” “I know, right?” Gus smirked as he sipped his wine.

He believes that none of them would try to betray the gang. Something must’ve had happened. “You useless piece of trash! Where were you when something happened to the gang?!” ZAP! ZAP! “I didn’t hand over the gang to you to mess it up!” ZAP! “Do you know how many losses we’ve suffered?!” ZAP! ZAP! Blood splash towards the few members who stood close to the scene. Their legs tremble, but no one dared to make a sound. No one even dared to wipe the blood on their face.

“ We had a deal, old man. We handed you the guy, now where‟s our money?” At the time when this was happening, the overturned Cadillac was filling with smoke. The driver suffocated to death beneath the heat and smoke. The car wasn't safe as distance had suggested and when it exploded in fury, a noxious cloud of smoke swept the area and clogged the air. Even the snipers on top couldn't see what was happening down in the smoke. The chaplain pulled the gun on both the Gringo brothers. The gunshots triggered chaos. Everyone was now shooting whatever thing touched him first. The chaplain never intended on holding his end of the bargain. The Gringo brothers were not to be trusted. And now they were

I was getting close to the DJ when I pulled out my butterfly knife and executed a Mobius flip before stabbing the table in front of him, where his DJ equipment was placed. "Change the music. Now!" I commanded. "S-sir?" he asked, surprised. He looked around at the people dancing. "Change the music if you don't want to permanently lose your job!" "W-what kind of music, sir?" he asked tremblingly. "Anything that isn't sweet," I replied. "Damn it! Passionate songs. Christmas songs. Funeral songs. Children songs. Humor me. Anything, just not those sickeningly sweet songs like that. I don't want to see couples hugging on the dance floor in the next minute. Got it?!"

The pain eases out of my chest, but I’m still dizzy and sick to my stomach. I crawl off like a dying dog and vomit against the wall, expelling globs of blood onto the impacted earth. Luban kneels next to me and hands me the last of our blood bags. “Is she alive?” “Of course she is,” Asmodeus answers before I can. “She is of my blood.” “We’re all of your blood, you unhinged twat,” Darrick says. I grin to myself. Only one of Asmodeus's own sons would dare speak to him that way.