Epilogue #2
I lowered myself down, sitting next to him. My face towel wasn’t too far away, so I was able to pick it up, and wipe my face, arms, and stomach with it. I was dripping in sweat. Diego was sweating too. He was still recovering, so he couldn’t go as hard as I could.
He was back walking normal now. He could drive, and do all the things that he used to, but he still wasn’t at a perfect 100%.
He was probably at 90%. It was his breathing that would still give him problems here and there.
His lungs were still trying to get back right, so a lot of times, when he did the exercises, he would have to take more breaks than I did.
“Good shit today,” I said to him, reaching my hand out, so that I could slap it up with him.
“I appreciate that bruh. Shit, I appreciate you. You never let me go through this on my own. These past few months, you’ve been right there by my side.
With all the shit that you have going on, man I’ll never forget all the hours that you sat in that hospital with me.
Fed me, helped me with my showers, lined my hair up, all the humbling shit that I didn’t want you doing, you did it.
I used to fuck with you and call you soft for always expressing your love for me.
Being shot, coming that close to death, I now understand that life is short.
Ima go on telling you that I love you every day too,” he told me, and that made me smile.
“I appreciate that, bruh. I did what I was supposed to do as a big brother. I love you too,” I let him know, and we ended it at that.
He sat, with his own thoughts, and I did the same.
I used this time to think about all the things that’s happened this year.
I took major losses this year. Lost a good number of corner boys, due to the shit that I had going on with dem 9 boyz.
Lost a best friend too. To this day, I find myself sitting in silence, thinking about how me and Mook ended.
It started with me having to let that nigga go because he was stealing from me.
Then, I had to find out that he overdosed.
That was something that still fucked with me, even though I didn’t talk about it too much.
I think about all the things that I went through this year with dem 9 boyz.
Them niggas felt like a fuckin thorn in my side that wouldn’t go away.
I have peace now, knowing that they were no longer in the picture.
I got word that their pops moved out of Miami.
Soft ass nigga took off and really didn’t tell anyone where he relocated.
I think after losing his boys, and we stripped him of his dignity, and his status by running into that candlelight, shooting at them like that, probably made him feel like there wasn’t shit left here in Miami for him.
Business was going good. I’m making so much money off selling dope, that I don’t think I would ever really be ready to retire from it.
Expanding in Orlando and Tampa like I put out was now a thing.
We had the locations that we wanted, now we just needed to get the ball running, and start up crews out there.
This wasn’t something where you could just snap your finger, and it would happen overnight.
This took a lot of planning and patience.
When we were finally able to successfully expand, and I’m running everything from Miami to Tampa, and Orlando, I’m telling you that MBM will go down in history.
When they talk about street legends, they’ll speak on us.
The security company was going better than I expected. I had a gang of men working under me. Multiple contracts were put in motion. Money was flowing in with the company, which had been the goal.
When I talk about the success, and the status that I have now, I’ll admit, I gotta give a lot of that credit to my girl.
A young nigga like me wasn’t shit without her in my corner.
The shit we talk about, the dreams we have, the goals we put out with one another, I know a lot of things in my life would’ve looked completely different if it wasn’t for her.
That’s why I respect her the way that I do.
That’s why I love her the way that I do.
That girl really is my best friend, man.
We’ve been through so much shit together.
The relationship has its moments where it got a little shaky, we wouldn’t always see eye to eye, but we always made it back to one another.
The goal was to marry that girl one day.
I was going to one day get to a point and retire from moving drugs, and when that day came, I wanted a son.
As of now, Riot was still saying hell no to baby Ransom, but not me.
I went from not wanting kids, to fighting baby fever every fuckin day.
I had to get my lil man, and Riot had to be the one to give him to me.
“What you getting ready to get into?” Diego asked me, as I stood.
“I gotta go check on those cars for Riot. You know tomorrow her birthday,” I let him know. When I said that, he laughed.
“Nigga, the girl can’t even fuckin drive. Not only did you get her one car, but you got two! What you got going on, man?” he asked me, and this time, it was my turn to laugh.
“When I give her the fuckin cars, Ima teach her how to drive then,” I shot, and he shook his head.
I promise, I was going to make it my business to teach her how to drive tomorrow.
Riot’s ass honestly didn’t want to learn.
I had her so fuckin spoiled, that I fed into it.
I drove her around, and if I couldn’t do it, I would send Mitch.
As rotten as I liked to have her, I had to get that girl in the driver’s seat and teach her.
Shit, I guess that was it for now. Ya’ll watched all the bullshit unfold and saw the way I was able to navigate my way out of all of it. Now that we’d tackled all the hard things, life had slowed down a little bit for me. Business was continuing to grow though.
Everybody wanted to be a dope boy, so I get new niggas coming to me just about every day, wanting to move weight for MBM. I couldn’t have just anyone working up under me though. I had to see that you had that dog in you. That hustle. I needed to see that you were loyal too.
No lie, when it came to this street shit, I used to feel invincible.
Riot even called me out on that when we first met.
She told me that I underestimated what niggas could do to me, or someone that I loved.
Seeing my brother lying in that hospital room, after taking two shots to the chest, made me retire that mindset.
A nigga would very much kill me, and everyone around me.
Life humbled the fuck out of me with that.
I had to move much smarter and protect the things that I loved a little more.
Things like my family, my businesses, myself.
Just anything that I’ll fuckin bleed for.
Anybody that was foolish enough to stand in the way of those things?
God have mercy on their soul because I’m killing when it comes down to those things.
All in all, yes life was peaceful right now. Yes, these wars were over with. My people were safe. My brother was right next to me. My parents were home, and safe. My girl was home, in the bed because she was well fucked last night. Everyone was where they were supposed to be right now.
Life felt good. Even with all this good, I would never get too relaxed or too comfortable.
As beautiful as peace was… I was always ready to go to war with anyone or anything when it came to me, and what was attached to me.
After all, I was still a street nigga, so how much peace could I really expect before bullshit started knocking again?
Riot St. James
“Beep! Beep! Beep!”
The loud sound of someone honking a horn outside of my grandma’s house caught all our attention.
Today was my 22nd birthday. My grandma called me yesterday morning, telling me that she didn’t care about whatever plans that I had for my birthday, as long as I made it my business to come over to her house this morning, so that her and my pop- pop could make breakfast for me.
I could tell a lot of people no in this world, but when it came to my grandparents, I couldn’t find it in me to ever say no to them.
As much as I wanted to just lay around the house today, and enjoy a day of relaxation, I knew that my grandma wasn’t going to let me have it that way.
She put on an entire birthday function at her house for me.
My mom, and all my aunties were in attendance.
All my cousins were here. Demi came with the baby too.
Dolo had been here, but he left out about ten minutes ago, after gobbling down his food like he didn’t eat at home.
He said that he had to take care of something, and that he would be right back.
I didn’t even ask him where he was taking off to.
I didn’t want to know. It was my birthday, and I didn’t want to ask any questions about business.
Once my birthday was over and done with, I would probably ask him tomorrow where he had taken off to. Today though? I wasn’t asking.
“One of ya’ll go look out there and see who that is blowing that damn horn like that. That horn is too loud. Disturbing all the residents on this block,” my grandma fussed, as she stood in the kitchen, standing over a pan of eggs that she was scrambling.
She had to make more eggs because the first batch was so good that we’d ran through it in less than five minutes.