13. Autumn #4
Cochise requested to get in the Live, but I block it when I see it. “I know my sis is the Get Money Princess and all, but this ain’t Wyn on here. This Haze, and if you can’t tell,” I put my Birch in the camera, “I’m from the Birch.”
“Wyn from there, too. Turn the phone around, Haze.”
I grab the phone as Wyn stops rapping and turn it, holding it to the glass. She focuses on the phone before lighting up, taking her glasses off and running out the booth.
She snatches the phone and sits next to us. “I know that ain’t who I think it is!”
Set smirks. “You coming up for the celebrity shit?”
“I’ma try. Text me the info.” She hands the phone back to me and goes back in the booth.
“Aight niggas. Stay dangerous.” Set throws it up chunky before leaving the live.
Just before Cochise ass barrels in.
I roll my eyes. “Gotta go y’all. The police just walked in.” I end the live and put Wyn’s phone down.
“Yeah, turn all that bullshit off.” Cochise walks over and snatches Wyn’s phone.
Turk scoots over in the chair before standing us up altogether. He plants himself in front of me as he mugs Cochise. “Ay, who the fuck you think you talking to, nigga? ‘Cause I know it’s not my bm.”
I see the engineer scurry out before the two Native men, Sheisty and PC, come inside.
“Hey, y’all, chill,” Wyn says, but Turk isn’t having it.
“Nah, Wyn. You tripping having these muthafuckas throw up they sets like you not with G$,” Sheisty grits.
“Oh, it’s beef with G$ and Foe Dub? Let me know somethin’ foreal.” Turk pulls his gun from his waist and holds it at his side.
“You pull that shit you better not miss, cuz.” Cochise’s voice is low as he glares at Turk.
Turk just grins. “I don’t miss shit. You can ask Paypay about that.”
Wyn pulls on Cochise as he starts toward Turk, who lifts his shit and aims it at Cochise’s heart.
Sheisty and PC pull out their guns, which makes me pull mine out, and now it’s a fucking standoff. Wyn’s crying. PC, Sheisty, and I are yelling. Turk and Cochise are just standing there, Turk smirking, Cochise glaring.
The door opens again and Grimey walks in. He takes the scene in, his eyes expanding when they land on Turk, before he smirks. “Hey, hey, we wasting money finna bang it out and Wyn ain’t laid down any tracks. Let’s leave the banging to the songs, huh?”
He walks further into the room, stepping in front of Cochise so Turk’s gun is grazing his chest.
“Turk, right? You gotta realize the optics of it. We know you and yo lady Foe Dub, but Wyn is affiliated with the Get Money Crew, which we know is G$. And Cochise and Shotta are actively beefing in the public right now. So until we announce they’re not beefing, we can’t have Wyn around anyone he’s affiliated with, especially not his set. ”
Grimey’s smile is razor sharp as he assesses Turk, but Turk either doesn't notice or doesn’t care. He simply lowers the gun and shrugs.
“Cochise and Shotta beefing ain’t nothing but dick and pussy shit. Me and my woman not hanging up our colors because Wyn got these niggas pressured up. That’s my sis regardless of who signing her checks. And if you stop her bag she always got a bigger one over on this side.”
When I lower my shit, the doublemint twins lower theirs, but I still smirk and blow them a kiss.
Grimey glances at me before focusing back on Turk. “You got heart, cuz. Nutty said–”
“Yeah, I know you know Nut. Just like I know how you looked out for him in the camps and shit. But check this, Grimey, I’m not Nutty. I’m Turk, foe, and I don’t give a fuck about no rap shit, rap beef, East Kenton, or G$ ‘gangsta’ crips.” He makes the air quotes and Grimey’s jaw clenches.
“With all due respect, y’all some Indian chiefs cosplaying as gangbangers, and y’all don’t put no fear in my heart.”
PC and Sheisty get off the wall but stop when Grimey holds up his hand. “Is that right, Turk?”
“Yeah. And since y’all all here, I’ma say this once: forget Patience Fox exists. And don’t trip, I’ll let Apache know, too, since I know he the real big dog around yo parts. Let’s go, Auty.”
He pushes me toward the door as we maneuver around the tension-filled room. He doesn't give anyone his back, and when we make it to the door, I lock eyes with PC.
Mild amusement colors his features before he smooths his face.
We walk as normal as possible out the studio and to his car before we skirt out the lot.
“We packing yo shit and I’m getting you a hotel, Auty. Stop sharing your location with Wyn now, and don’t tell no one where you at.”
“I won’t, Turkey.”
“I mean it, Auty. Finish yo fuckin’ hours and come back home. I’m telling Set to send some niggas down here, too.”
I sigh and shoot off a text to Rico asking him to come see me. He likes it, but I know I’ll have to endure his interrogation and him flashing that damn scar when he comes.
“Patience is gonna be mad you blasted her like that.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Turk spits, accelerating down the street onto the expressway. “Daddy handled that shit just like I said I would. She can be mad.”
“You think they gone listen?” I ask as I reread our text thread.
“They better or me and Shad lighting up East Kenton like a Christmas tree.”