Chapter 27
Craving Islah
Iwas moving fast, faster than usual, to stack my money.
I was outside every day, from sunup to sundown, catchin’ plays back-to-back. I wasn’t playin’; I felt like I was moving cleaner, more precise. My mission was clear, and nothing was gonna stand in my way.
First thing in the morning, as soon as my eyes opened, I sent out a kite, got dressed, and then hit the road. I drove around the city like I was fuckin’ DoorDash till it was around afternoon, then I made my way to Kronic’s block. Surprised to see Bully when I pulled up.
I parked, hopped out the car, carrying my duffel bag with me.
“Nigga, we need to talk,” Bully said before I got halfway up the sidewalk.
I shook my head. “No, the fuck we don’t; I have shit to handle.”
I walked up on the porch and took a seat beside Kronic.
“You are crashin’ right now,” he said low. “I don’t like this for you.”
I let out a short laugh, dry as hell, and dropped the duffel bag at my feet.
“Crashin’?” I looked at him, eyes low. “Nah… I’m finally moving right.”
“You are moving off emotions, G. That’s a big difference,” Bully added.
I ignored him, pulling my phone out, checking my messages.
Kronic watched me for a second, then leaned forward. “You ain’t even pausin’ to think if this is what Islah want you to do.”
“I don’t give a fuck what Islah wants. When I told her I bought that house and gave her that ring, I was committing to her.”
They both shook their heads, and I exhaled low. “Listen, y’all. I have already thought this shit out, that’s why I’m moving the way I am.”
Bully palmed his face. “You’re stacking all this bread, going crazy all over the city over a girl who don’t want you no more.”
I looked Bully dead in his eyes. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what, nigga?” Kronic shot back. “Nigga, we tryna save you from looking like a clown. You chasin’ a bitch that didn’t want you to find her!”
That shit hit my chest hard. But I ain’t let it sit.
“I ain’t chasing shit, I’m getting what the fuck is mine.”
“You too hot right now,” Kronic added.
“You don’t know what she’s on. What if she don’t want to see you? Has a new nigga? What if you can’t find her?”
I smirked. “Oh, she’s gonna see me, I put that on everything I love.”
Bully shook his head and stepped off the porch, then turned to look at us.
“See the type of shit you’re on. That’s how niggas get killed.”
“I ain’t them niggas, but if it make y’all two niggas feel better, come with me.”
They both looked at each other, the same conversation passed between them niggas like it had been every other time we had linked up. I was on some shit they didn’t agree with, and I didn’t care.
After a few minutes of them talking back and forth about me like I wasn’t there, Kronic let out a deep breath.
“Damn Bully, it is not like the nigga gonna listen anyway, the nigga might end up dead if we don’t go with him.”
Bully rubbed his face again. “Damn it, man! Fuck it, we are going with you, and don’t think it’s on some fairytale shit either.”
I smirked. “Call it whatever you want, I’ma go catch these plays; the block ain’t live enough for me right now, come to my crib when y’all ready.”
The rest of the day went how it needed to go. I stayed outside, running it up through the city, touching every corner that I could, making money, and by the time the sun started to drop, my bag was heavier, my pockets was thicker, and my mind was more focused than ever.
When I got back to the house, I paid all my money out on the kitchen table, counted it up, rubber-banded it, and then got my bags packed. When I heard Bully and Kronic walkin’ into my shit like it was theirs. I finished getting my shit, then went down to meet them niggas in the kitchen.
“So what is your plan, nigga?” Bully asked. “How are you gonna find her in the A?”
I grabbed a chair at the island and pulled out my phone.
“I’ma look her up.
I pulled my IG. I wasn’t on that shit much, but I had her on there. I typed in her name, but nothing came up. I went to Facebook searching, same thing—no Islah.
“She blocked me?” I blurted out.
“See, listen to what we are telling you,” Kronic said, “She over you, nigga.”
I shook my head.
“Nigga chill, that shit is a quick fix,” I said, as I was making a new account.
Once I was in, it took me no time to find her account. I instantly smiled when I saw her face. Without saying anything, I scroll through her pictures, seeing the smile on her face, the glow on her skin. She looked beautiful. I missed her more.
I leaned back, studying the screen, my lips slowly pulling to a grin with each swipe, taking in everything: her scrubs, the different hairstyles she never wore for me. It looked like she was living more and going out more.
She created a new life without me; I couldn’t let that stick.
I slowed down on scrolling, paying attention more to her and what was around her in her pictures. I couldn’t find her job or the address to her place, but I did see that she tagged a girl in her picture, Kenya.
I tapped on the girl’s profile, scrolled a lil’ bit, then caught it.
The uniform with a badge.
I zoomed in on the picture and found the name of the hospital.
HCA Healthcare was my starting point.
I smiled. “Bingo.”
“Oh shit,” Bully said.
I looked up from my phone. “Y’all niggas ready to hit the road?”
“Right now?” Kronic asked.
I nodded.
Bully shrugged. “I guess, nigga.”
We went into the living room, put together a few blunts, grabbed a bottle of Henny, and we were on the road that night.
We took turns driving; the highways stretched in front of us, dark and empty; the only sound was our engine and our music.
Hours passed, we stopped when we needed to, smoked when we felt like it. Most of the time we were quiet. They let me be in my head, probably realizing I was set in ways.
By the time we crossed into the A, the sky had started to light up, but the city was still asleep. Finally, we pulled into a hotel, and Kronic got us a suite. Once we got in the room, we dropped our bags and sat down on the couch.
“Iight nigga, we here now, what’s the move?” Bully asked.
They both looked at me, waiting for my response.
“Y’all can do what you feel like, but I’ma go find my girl.”