Chapter Three
Smoky sat on the edge of the couch, dragging a hand down his mahogany-colored face.
Fatigue clung to him like a second skin.
He’d spent the entire day trying to convince Maino to leave town, but his stubborn ass wasn’t budging.
Instead, Maino lounged beside him with his feet resting on the coffee table and a blunt dangling between his fingers.
He sat completely unfazed, as if the world around him wasn’t spiraling into chaos.
Two pistols lay within reach, while two ARs leaned against the couch.
Maino was prepared to stand his ground. And if he did go out, he was convinced he’d take a couple niggas with him.
“So, you just gon’ stay here and force my hand?” Smoky asked, shattering the silence.
Maino shrugged, eyes focused on the smoke swirling from his blunt.
“I ain’t leavin’ my home. Let ’em come. I wasn’t ready the first time, but I know they comin’ now. I’ll be ready.”
“And what you think I’m gon’ do? Stand by and watch you go to war with my brothers?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you do. That no longer concerns me. You showed me exactly what it was between us when you stormed into my shit with them niggas and put a gun in my face. No matter what you say or how you dress it up, that ain’t love.”
Those words struck Smoky hard, pushing him to the brink.
In a fit of rage, he swept his hand across the coffee table, sending ashtrays, bottles, and magazines crashing to the floor.
Not only did he feel like Maino was being ungrateful for everything he was risking by being there, but he also felt like Maino was being stupid, allowing his anger to cloud his better judgment.
“You think this shit a game?”
“You think I’m scared, nigga?”
“I think you got too much pride to see you livin’ on borrowed time.”
“Nah, I know niggas bleed just like I bleed, Smoke.”
Silence filled the room as Smoky shook his head in frustration. At times, it infuriated him that they were cut from the same cloth, especially now. He was trying to save Maino, but the gangsta in the nigga refused to relent.
“I’m laid back, not a bitch. Not some lil shorty you can just put up. I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t need protection, and I don’t run from nobody.”
Maino’s life experience had made fear a foreign concept.
Like Smoky, he’d grown up in the streets, surviving more shootouts than he could count.
He had put his hands on more niggas than he could remember and had been slinging dope since he was fifteen.
Coke. Crack. Heroin. Fentanyl. If it made money, it made sense. And chances were he’d touched it.
Violence wasn’t new to Maino. It was the life he knew. So, he wasn’t being an asshole or trying to prove a point. He simply refused to let another man dictate how he lived. To Maino, this wasn’t bravado. It was principle; he lived by respect and would die defending it.
“You said earlier that I know you. Knights over everything. Well, you know me, too. There’s only a few things I love with everything in me. That was my moms, Titan, Roxy, and you. I don’t bother nobody. I get my paper and stay out the way. Yo’ people came fuckin’ with me first.”
“Because of Boe. That’s what you keep walking over.”
“Fuck Boe! He killed my fuckin’ dogs. That’s what you keep walking over.”
Smoky sighed heavily. He got it, but he didn’t. All he wanted was to get Maino somewhere safe. Everything else was irrelevant to him at this point.
“I know you hurt about the dogs, but this ain’t the way, baby.” Smoky tried reasoning with him again, catching a flicker of pain in Maino’s eyes. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by anger.
Frustration consumed Smoky all over again when he realized he wouldn’t ever get through to him.
He glanced down at the iPhone resting in his lap.
Do Not Disturb was on, and his location was still turned off.
The feature was a double-edged sword. His phone hadn’t made a sound all day, giving him temporary relief.
However, the missed calls and iMessage notifications silently stacked up across the screen, reminding him he had to get back to his other world every time he unlocked his phone and checked.
Tanya.
Crown.
Danger.
His aunt.
Smoky closed his eyes; everybody was looking for him. “Fuck it,” he said as he shot up from the couch.
Smoky hadn’t meant to stay this long. He’d come to drop off a bag filled with his dirty money and urge Maino to leave town.
Then he planned to head back to the clubhouse, find his best friend, and come clean about everything, hoping Crown’s love for him would make him give Maino a pass.
If it didn’t, at least Smoky could find peace knowing he’d gotten Maino out of state, far enough away that Crown couldn’t possibly track him.
But love had kept Smoky in Melrose far longer than he’d planned.
“As I said before, you can’t blame me for what I didn’t know.
I’ve done everything I could to make this shit right.
You wanna talk ’bout my love ain’t real?
Nigga, I took a fuckin’ oath, yet here I am, going against my club…
my brother… just to help you. But I can’t make you do anything.
You right. You grown. So, whatever happens next, that’s on you. ”
As Smoky snatched his helmet from the table and headed for the door, a storm of emotions washed over Maino.
He hated this feeling, hated the emotional rollercoaster this forbidden relationship had put him on.
Whenever Smoky stood in front of him, he could hold his ground.
He could chew his ass out and stand on business.
But the moment Smoky turned his back and started walking away, all that strength disappeared.
This wasn’t their first rodeo. They’d disagreed, fought, said shit they didn’t mean, and Smoky would leave.
Eventually, he’d come back around, and they would make up.
This time, though, was different…the circumstances were different.
With so much going on, Maino wasn’t sure he’d see Smoky again.
The thought twisted something deep inside him, fear quickly replacing the anger he’d been holding onto.
He couldn’t let him walk out that door without saying what was really on his mind.
“Smoke, no matter what happens, I want you to know my love for you was real, too. It runs deep, and that’s why all this shit hurts.
Maybe it’s more to my pain. I’m hurt about my dogs, but I’m hurt by the way you handle me, too.
I wanted better for us. All I ever wanted was for you to stand with me.
Ride for me like I’m willing to ride for you.
Stop worrying about what everybody else thinks and just live in your truth.
I appreciate you coming here and trying to protect me, but I don’t need that or yo’ bread. You know what I crave from you.”
The moment Smoky pulled the door open, he froze in his tracks.
Behind him, Maino had finally stopped arguing, letting his heart speak louder than his anger.
Standing in front of him, however, was a middle-aged white man dressed in charcoal slacks, a light blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, and a dark sport coat.
His hand was raised, ready to knock, but instead he reached into his jacket pocket, flipped open a leather credential wallet, and held it up just long enough for Smoky to see the badge and photo ID.
Smoky’s heart raced in his chest. Between Crown blowing up his phone, Maino refusing to leave town, and now a detective standing on the porch, the weight of everything crashing down at once was becoming too much to bear.
“Good evening. I’m Detective Lawson with the Satin Hills Police Department.” The man slipped his badge back into his jacket. “I’m looking for Emanuel Calloway.”
Hearing his name, Maino’s brows furrowed. He shot up from the couch and stepped in front of Smoky, taking control of the conversation before the detective’s attention could drift elsewhere. He was upset with Smoky, but he damn sure didn’t want him on the detective’s radar.
“That’d be me.”
“Mr. Calloway, how are you this evening?”
“I’m straight.”
“Good to hear. I’m here because I’m investigating the disappearance of Boris Thompson. I understand the two of you are related.”
Maino stood there, pretending to be shocked. “Disappearance?”
“Yes. Mr. Thompson has been reported missing.”
“Damn. Shit crazy.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Maino shrugged.
“Go ’head.”
“Did Boris Thompson come by this residence recently?”
“Yeah.”
Maino wasn’t stupid. The detective already knew the answer. This was about seeing if his story matched whatever information they had. Lying would only bring more heat to his doorstep.
Lawson glanced down at his notepad. “How long was he here?”
“Couple days.”
“What brought him here?”
“Shit, you said it. We family. He came through, we caught up on family shit, then he dipped.”
Lawson looked up from his notepad.
“Family shit?”
“My mother’s death anniversary was coming up. His aunt. He came to check on me, then he left.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
Maino shook his head.
“Nah. I figured he was headed back home.”
“Have you heard from him since?”
“Nah.”
Lawson scribbled a few notes before looking back up.
“Mr. Calloway, our investigation shows Boris’s phone was last active in this area before it went silent.”
And there it was. The truth. The truth Maino already knew they had.
“Like I said, he was here, then he left. I don’t know shit else.”
“When he was here, did anything seem off? Was he nervous? Looking over his shoulder? Did he mention someone being after him?”
“Nah.”
“Did he mention having any problems with the police or anyone else?”
Maino’s expression never changed.
“He ain’t mention none of that. I told you, we kicked it for a couple days, caught up on family shit, then he went on about his business. That’s all I got. Cousin or not, I wasn’t keeping tabs on a grown-ass man.”
Lawson studied him for a moment.