Chapter 2
Being Tested
Islah was fast asleep when I was creeping outta the house.
I wasn’t mad at her ex.
I was determined to make sure that nigga wasn’t gonna be a problem for us.
I grabbed my Glock off my dresser and slipped it in my waistband before stepping out. I took the elevator down to the lobby, giving the doorman a slight nod as I walked past.
The morning air hit me as I walked to my car, phone to my ear, calling Keith.
“Wussup, Boss?” he said, answering the line quick.
“I’m glad you up,” I said as I got in my car and started it up. “You still got that nigga hotel shit?”
I heard him moving around, putting the call on speaker.
“Yeah, I just sent it to you.”
I looked at my phone and sent that shit to my GPS.
“Good lookin’ out, nigga, I’m bout see what this nigga talkin’ about.”
“I feel you.” He paused for a second. “You need backup?”
I smirked to myself with a slight laugh, not because Keith was soft. My nigga was trained to go. But the thought of me needing backup for that clown ass nigga sounded crazy to me.
“You really think I need backup, nigga? You know that nigga ain’t got shit on me. My hands lethal, and my aim ain’t like no nigga in the A.”
Keith laughed. “Oh, shit, the monster is back! That’s my nigga.”
I laughed. “Nigga, I’ll see you later.”
I drove across my city, one hand on the wheel, eyes low while the morning traffic started to pick up around me.
The city was starting to wake up. Niggas rushing to work with their bass thumping in passing, ladies fixing their makeup at each red light.
Back in my day, when I was a YN, I would just be heading in after a long night on the block.
Meanwhile, I was on my way to hunt a nigga down before anybody was about to punch in.
I hit a few side streets to avoid some traffic and pulled up to the motel in no time.
That shit looked exactly how I expected it to. Run down. Cheap. The type of shit a nigga stay at when they were tryna stay low or was cracked out. I looked to my right and saw some niggas walking past my car, eyeing me hard.
As I watched them, I looked up at the motel sign. I chuckled to myself. That shit was half lit. The fucking blue neon light was flickering like a bitch.
“Man, I know that nigga getting bit up,” I muttered to myself.
I cut my shit off, hopped out of my Rover truck.
Had to switch it up for this mission. I adjusted my orange, slick, short-sleeve shirt, black slacks, my Stacy Adams reflecting from the bright ass morning sun, along with my jewelry.
I adjusted my Glock in the front of my pants as I made my way across the street, still keeping an eye on them goofy ass niggas.
I walked around the side and up the stairs, looking at all the doors until I reached room 231.
I stopped in front of the door, staring at the bitch, and wasted no time. This nigga was fucking up the peace I created for myself and the peace I wanted Islah to have.
I raised my hand to knock and stopped just before my fist hit the door, and a grin came over my face.
I stepped back slightly, one hand resting near my Glock while I looked down the walkway.
An old head was smoking outside one of the rooms farther down, but the second our eyes met, he looked the fuck away quick.
Smart nigga.
I turned my attention back to the door and drove my foot into it as hard as hell.
BOOM!
The weak-ass lock gave out instantly, and the door flew back, slamming against the wall while I rushed in with my Glock out.
My eyes scanned the room fast.
Bed. Closet. Bathroom… The room was empty.
“Fuck!” I yelled out, noticing that nigga left in a hurry.
The room still smelled like smoke, and the bottle of Hennessy that was sitting on the dresser was still cold. I kept walking around the lil’ ass room, and when I saw it was something on the bed, I walked over, and I was red.
It was a picture of Islah and me from our Facebook post; that nigga had made the shit red.
That nigga knew I would be coming for his bitch ass.
A smart, dumb nigga…smart of him to run. Dumb of him to run from me.
I smirked to myself and nodded as I folded the picture and slid it in my pocket. Gio thought he was gonna run from me? In my city? He really didn’t know how I moved… I straightened my ways, but I was still a Zone 6 nigga at heart, and he was finna meet the old me.
I pulled my phone out and called Keith. That nigga must have been waiting for my call.
“Yeah, nigga, you good?” he said as soon as he picked up.
“You at the store yet?” I asked, ignoring his question.
“Nah, nigga, I was pickin’ up donuts for the staff.”
I looked at the phone and put it back to my ear as I exhaled. “Nigga, get yo’ ass to the store.”
“Damn, nigga, iight,” I heard Keith saying as I hung up.
I walked outta the room and jogged down the steps like I didn’t just leave them peoples door off the hinges, unlocked my car, hopped in, and pulled off, tryin’ to dodge traffic while keeping my eyes on a swivel, just in case that nigga decided to just be standing on the sidewalk.
On my drive, I thought about my next move while listening to the radio, rapping along to the different songs, then shit kept getting interrupted by my baby mama calling my phone.
I kept ignoring it and went back to singing, then checked on Islah, knowing she should have been heading to work.
“Hey, baby,” she said when she picked up.
“Wussup, wifey, you good?”
“Yess,” she responded. I could hear that she had a smile on her face.
“Good, I wanted to make sure you was good—”
“Did you find Gio?” she asked, cutting me off.
I froze for a second. “I left you a note on the pillow that said I was going to the gym.”
She sucked her teeth. “Love, baby, when the fuck have you ever left me a note that didn’t have flowers attached to it?”
My baby was smart.
I laughed. “Damn, girl, you got me.”
She laughed along with me.
“Did you find him?” she asked again.
“I can’t tell you that, baby...”
“Why?” she asked before I could even finish.
“Because I don’t want you involved in shit.”
The line went silent for a second, my baby mama still calling. I gave Islah a second as I ignored that bitch.
“You at work yet?” I asked, cutting the silence as I was getting close to the store.
“Yeah, baby, I am pullin’ in now.”
“Well have a good shift, I’m finna hit the store. I’ll see you tonight, and your lunch will be there for you like always.”
“I love you, Love,” she responded softly.
“I love you more, mamas.”
We hung up, and I pulled up to the front of the store. I turned my car off, hopped out, waved to some regulars on the block, and walked into the store to see Keith placing donuts on the counter. I stopped and stared at him.
“My office,” was all I said to him.
Keith gave the donuts to one of our workers and followed behind me. I unlocked my office door, swung it open, and walked in, turning on my different lights that set the relaxing vibe I liked to work in while Keith closed the door behind him and stared at me.
“That nigga wasn’t there.”
“What the fuck you mean?” he asked.
“Nigga, you heard me,” I said as I sat down at my desk. “That nigga wasn’t there, but you want to know what was?”
I took the picture out of my pocket and handed it to Keith.
He unfolded it and cuffed his mouth with his hand.
“That nigga real deal crazy, what the fuck.” Keith shook his head, still looking at the picture.
“He knew I was comin’ for him. He wanted to be there and left that on the bed.”
“What you want to do?” Keith asked quickly.
I paused for a second.
“I want—need that nigga dead. I don’t want that nigga to be a problem for Islah.”
Keith nodded. “I feel you on that, so what’s the move, nigga?”
“Send out a kite, let the whole hood know who I’m looking for. It shouldn’t be hard to find him.”
“And what if he left the city and went back to Cali?”
I exhaled hard, not even wanting to think about that option.
“See who the niggas know out there. Either way it goes, I don’t care what city or state that nigga is in. I want him watched and not touched. My bullets will be the only ones that touch him.”
Keith’s eyes got big. “That nigga fucked with the right nigga.”
Before I could respond to him, the door to the store flew open, and we instantly heard yelling.
“Where the fuck is he at! Love! Love!”
I closed my eyes and exhaled hard, and by the time I opened them, she was walking into my office.
“Why the fuck are you tryna put our son against me?” my baby mama yelled out. “You hate me that fuckin’ much, you will do some low-down shit like that! What type of nigga are you?”
Keith looked at both of us and walked out.
“Jada—”
“Jada, my ass!” she said, cutting me off. “You know if you take him, you will take money from me…”
“Good,” I said before she could finish her sentence. “You are not my problem anymore. The only person I need to worry about is Amir.”
“What about me?” Jada shot back.
I twisted my face up at her. “Bitch, fuck you, respectfully. That shit right there is the main reason why I’ma get Amir. You think you bigger than the program, and you know I’m the nigga to show you that you not.”
Jada took a step back, looking at me but not saying anything.
“Now you need to go ahead, get out of here, maybe look for a job, because I am not your cash cow anymore. I got other shit to worry about.”
Jada sucked her teeth. “Like what, nigga?! What could be more important than me, your son, and us fixing things so that you don’t keep doin’ this dumb shit.”
I shook my head at her in disbelief. “Ho, is you dumb?” I said, getting fed up with her shit. “I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, there ain’t no me and you. Amir is important, my work, and my girl.”
Once I said that, it looked like all the melanin left her body.
“Your girl?” she repeated.
I nodded as I stood up. “My girl, the one I’ma spend my life with.” I continued talking as I walked to my door and opened it. “The next time you gonna see me is in court, unless you want to handle shit outta court like a bitch in your position should do.”
Jada looked me up and down then shook her head. “You’re gonna regret this.”