Boiling Point
Rico, age 19
The corners of my mouth quirked up as my playlist turned to 2 Bitches by Too $hort.
Fredo went home with two girls the night before.
I sat idling in front of the address he texted me, waiting for him to hurry up. We had drills that morning, but that didn’t mean we were gonna stay inside. Nah, we had shit to celebrate.
Our juvie records were sealed and then expunged; all of ours. Peanut came with me to the Marine recruiting office in South Kenton, but they took one look at him and said he wouldn’t pass the psych exam.
Fredo wouldn’t let him live it down.
I passed it though. I passed everything with flying colors, to the point that the job I picked had the highest security clearance a nigga could have. They damn near crowned me king, and was pissed I decided to join the Delayed Entry Program.
I couldn’t just ship off to Daygo. I had to make sure shit would go smoothly in my absence.
So we been setting shit in motion for weeks now. Bitches been lining up to give me goodbye pussy.
I been running through condoms like clothes.
Now, I only had a week left until I shipped off. My official going away party was set for two days before I was to leave, at G-Pops’ house, away from the Birch. Family only.
A feminine giggle took me out my head, and I looked to my right and smirked at Fredo grabbing handfuls of imaginary ass as he tried to find something down the bitch’s throat.
Niggas or bitches, Fredo’s type was the same: shorter than him, petite, and model-like features.
We only talked about that nigga fucking Remy for one night. The same night he told me he’d talked to Ty-Ty and to let that shit with Wynter go. Fredo had always known he liked both, but Remy, who apparently was gay as fuck, was his first boyfriend.
I thought he’d be mad I murked his ass, even if the reason was valid, but he was more heartbroken the nigga was involved in tryna take us out. Nigga ain’t even warn Fredo they was plotting, though in his last seconds living, he swore he wasn’t gonna let shit happen to him.
Fuck his twin though, I guess.
Then one day, nigga started running through bitches like he was me. He told Haze a nigga will hurt you worse than a female, but I beg to differ.
Everyone on they grimy shit if they ask me.
Fredo had some pep in his step as he slid into my passenger seat.
“You wanna run home and shower first?” I asked as I peeled off.
“I showered here. You know, muthafuckas don’t like shower sex, but it’s pretty all right with me,” he winked, taking his phone out his pocket. “Besides, if we get musty enough today, Nut will send us home early. I don’t feel like being there all fucking day.”
“I’on think he gon’ go for that,” I chuckled. “We gotta get Turk. He let Haze use his whip until tonight.”
“Fasho. We still going to Paradise tonight?”
“Yeah. She got me a section.”
I never would have thought Autumn would have a permanent place in my heart like she did. For years I thought she was selfish as fuck, constantly hearing Wynter defend her when she’d do some flaw shit.
All that changed in a weekend.
She’s one of the strongest women I know.
Them niggas did everything they could besides beat and rape her to break her down to be sold, and she held tough.
Even knocked Remy’s ass out twice before she ended up taking out Kilo on a fluke.
She more than earned my loyalty, and that’s probably the only reason I’m hesitant to leave her.
She reminds me of Ma more than I’d ever admit. It wasn’t surprising the way Fredo fucks with her the long way. But me being right there with him still confused me.
Especially when I wanted to kill her sister.
“I hope Turk fixed that leaky ceiling. Ain’t no one tryna drop ones and it’s raining inside.”
I chuckled as we pulled up in front of Turk’s house. “Better shut up ‘fore he has you crawling up in there sealing holes and shit. He can’t wait for Ty-Ty to start actually learning something in his classes.”
Fredo texted Turk to tell him we were outside, but he always took forever to come on, so I put my whip in park, just as an S500 pulled up in front of Haze’s old house.
Haze’s weird ass parents kicked her out as soon as she graduated high school, so she didn’t live there anymore. G-Pops set her up in a cool lil’ studio in Mid-City.
So whoever this was, was there for Wynter.
The passenger door of the car opened, and long legs brought her onto the curb. Thick makeup covered every single one of her freckles, but it didn’t look caked on. Nah, Wynter couldn’t look bad on her worst day, even if she was an evil ice cold bitch.
Her hair was platinum blonde, cut low as hell on either side into a mohawk. The middle of her hair was in a ponytail that went to her ass. She had to have been out all night, since she was in an oversized Versace shirt and some boots that laced up to her thighs.
“You talked to her lately?” Fredo asked, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
“Nigga have you?”
She opened the back door to the car and grabbed an oversized LV duffel bag. The driver’s door opened and a nigga popped out. Flashy and short; prolly from the west side. West Kenton niggas acted like they had real money, when everyone knew them niggas was scamming.
“Yeah. We talk here and there. Just making sure she straight. She into some shit–”
“I’on too much care, Fred.”
She placed the duffel on the trunk and wrapped her arms around the nigga. He did the same, palming her ass. But when he went in for a kiss, she moved her face at the last minute, making him kiss her cheek.
I smothered a smirk.
“You sure about that?”
I heard the amusement in Fredo’s voice and ignored him.
It had only been two years since Wynter left Autumn at that party to get kidnapped, but they all forgot.
They had to, since no one could know she was the one who put a hole in the head of the Birch Babies’ leader.
So eventually, Turk stopped ignoring her.
Haze would get into moods where she’d kiss her ass. Fredo clearly still checked in.
Not me.
Fuck Wynter Snow.
Sneaky. Liar. No loyalty. Manipulative.
Rule Number One is to trust no bitch. A bitch like her is why that rule exists.
They dislodged from their hug and the nigga got back in the car. His license plate read WAVYYYY, so I guessed that was his name. Clown.
Turk came outside, pulling on a skully since he decided to grow locs like Shad. Wynter turned to him and nodded, before grabbing the duffel and walking into her house.
Not a glance in my direction.
I unlocked the doors as Turk got to my whip.
“You know that bag she got is full of cash?” Turk asked.
I peeled off toward downtown. “What you mean?”
“Wyn hooked up with some west side crips and she been running it the fuck up. I’m talking, she gave me ten racks towards a new roof for Paradise. She got enough to throw away ten G’s, then you know she stacking major paper.”
“And yo ass just took it, huh?” I gritted, choking out my steering wheel.
“Hell yeah, the fuck?! That place is hemorrhaging money, Dub. The ladies don’t wanna come to work if the floor and ceiling got holes in it. She came through in a major way, so I’ma take it and any jokes that came with it.”
“What she say?”
Turk grunted. “Her ass gon’ say she can’t have the ceiling leaking and Auty break her neck tryna twerk. I told her lanky ass to come back when she get some rhythm.”
“Fuck her,” I grumbled, before Fredo changed the subject.
The parking lot to the old teen club Turk, Set, and Peanut bought was half-full by the time we got there. Much like Paradise, Palace needed work, too.
Nut’s drills for Foe Dub involved renovating it.
Soon as we walked in, there was gloves, paint, and wood by the back entrance. Sean was chasing G and Slime was some paint, and Nut slapped him over the head as he rolled up on us.
“You niggas late, so you putting together the dressing room. It’s down the hallway by where the stage gon’ be at. That shit better be put together or I’m lighting Paradise up tonight soon as Haze get on that fucking pole.”
We waved him off as we grabbed the supplies we needed. It was on the up and up, for sure. It sucked I wouldn’t be around when it opened, but I pushed the thought away and focused on the tasks at hand.
The nigga worked us like dogs all morning, but when Set joined us, we got the dressing room and adjoining bathroom together and he let us go early. We got back to Nan’s, where I passed out, waking up way in the evening to the smell of tamales.
I damn near floated to the kitchen, letting my nose guide me. Nan was already fixing my plate, and smiled over her shoulder when I took it from her, offering up a kiss.
“Go wash your hands and wake Freddy up so we can eat together,” she said. I obliged her, kicking Fredo’s door on the way to the bathroom. He emerged a second later, and I flicked water in his face before drying my hands and going back to the table.
In addition to the business classes Fredo was taking, he also had a day job working at the mall at Millard’s, getting crazy commissions in the shoes department. He had enough PTO to take the week off, and did it without me asking.
Only when he sat down did Nan and I begin to eat. The tamales were bussin’, as usual, and I had to kiss her cheek again to show my appreciation.
“You gonna go see Pooh Bear before you leave?” she asked.
Fredo opened his mouth to speak for me, naturally, but Nan cupped his hand, silencing him. She peered at me, waiting patiently as ever for me to answer.
She never scolded me for how I acted at Ma’s funeral, and respected my wishes in never letting him come to the crib. In fact, that was the first time she’d mentioned him to me in years.
“Nah, I don’t think so,” I said, clearing my throat.
She stared for a moment, before nodding, and going back to her food.
We ate in a comfortable silence until Fredo cleared the plates.
We stood, and she cupped my cheek. I closed my eyes and inhaled, smelling Nan’s signature lavender scent over the tamales.