February 19, 1972 The night Lee morgan died part 2

The two mouthed master of minions snatched the pistol from the henchman, and put his arm around me to talk in private.
“Well you dint look poelease, but give me dat wallet.”
I was apprehensive when he took my wallet, yet somehow relieved when he pulled the 1,500 bucks out of my wallet and it in his pockets and then handed it back.
“So G whit says her use a writer? Gimme the cell too.”
I handed him the cell and oddly felt even more at ease.
“Son ya aint gotta be so scared”
“I uhh ain’t”
“Well the way i see it i make about 1500 an hour on that bench so you got an hour of my time. That means i fuctks wit you and when you fuctk wit a cat you fuctks wit em, so i swear on the soul of The great Lee Morgan you will be alive till you ask me your questions,”
He then patted my shoulder, with the smug knowledge that he had pegged me, about Lee Morgan, and added, “cause i fuctks wit you, see”
I still didn’t know why he got to keep my iphone just cause he fuctks wit me. was he fuctkin wit me?

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