Page 15 of Real's Love

Gerard and Ghazi had been friends for a long time. That was one of the reasons—that and Gerard’s business degree—that Ghazi had hired him as his assistant. A couple of years in, Gerard had decided the best way for him to make a little extra money was to sell some of the information he’d learned about the sophisticated web of businesses we owned and ran. Fortunately for us, we let very few in deep enough to know too much, and no one outside the family knew all the ways we made money. Unfortunately for him, he still had to pay for violating.

Ghazi walked over and leaned against the desk, facing him. Arms crossed over his chest, he stared down at the man who had once been one of his closest friends.

“Two months, we been watching you,” he finally spoke. “Lying. Stealing. Betraying. You climbed yo’ grimy ass in bed with that clown, Aaqil, knowing he wants to take what we own. After the way I looked out. He would never pay you even half of what you coulda made with us. Silly ass."

“Ghazi, it-it was nothing. I didn’t give him anything that really mattered. He threatened Meka and the baby. He gon’ kill me if he finds out y’all know?—"

“He ain’t gon’ kill you,” I interrupted.

Hopeful eyes flew to me. But his face fell once he understood my meaning. He had the nerve to look confused.

“B-b-but… kill me? Y’all gon’ kill me?” he whimpered.

For some reason, that shit was funny to me. I pressed the side of my fist to my lips but couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as I cracked up. My brothers looked at me like I was crazy.

“Mannn… what this fool on?” I questioned.

Ghazi broke first, a grin crossing his face as he shook his head. I bent over, hands on my knees, as I let the sounds of my amusement escape me.

“Fuck wrong with you?” he asked me.

“His ass crazy,” Cairo mumbled.

“Talking ‘bout are we gon’ kill him. Bitch…” I stood up suddenly, eyeballing Gerard as my laughter faded. “What you thought this was? Yeah, we gon’ kill you.”

His eyes swiveled toward Ghazi. “C’mon, man. I know I fucked up. But I can make it up. Don’t do this shit. You know Meka pregnant, Ghazi. My son won’t even know me?—”

“Good,” Ghazi cut him off coldly. “He won’t have to know his daddy was a fuckin’ snake.”

Gerard opened his mouth to beg more. He almost didn’t see Targen’s huge, scarred figure emerge from the shadows, a silenced Glock G19 in his hand. Almost. The look of terror on his face was revealed when he finally saw his death. And then, he saw nothing.

* * *

Freshly washed of the light spatter of Gerard’s blood and brain, I climbed into my perfectly restored and upgraded ‘87 Grand Nash, one destination in mind. I may have had my pick of women in this city, even fucked on a few, but on a night like tonight, only one would do. I was popping up, but shorty wouldn’t mind. She was cool and rocked with my flow effortlessly. She got almost all my downtime. My weak ass just wanted to be stuck up under her pretty self, something I wasn’t used to. I was feeling her a little too much; I needed to back up and shake it off. But not tonight. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I ever would.

A mile into my ride, I reached out to Targen. He would never admit it if anything got to him, but I wanted to hear that shit for myself, anyway. We’d met what felt like a lifetime ago, at a first-year orientation at the University of Houston. It didn’t take long for us to click, and we were hell in our first two years of undergrad. Shit was a blur of bitches, weed, a lil’ syrup, and classes. We were even line brothers, pledging our fraternity at the end of our sophomore year. Then, Targen went home to Kansas City to see family. When I didn’t hear from him for two weeks, I thought nothing of that shit. I figured he was probably chilling with his cousin, Monica, whom he treated like a sister, and giving them hoes hell. Another week passed, and Monica found me, desperate. Targen was missing. He’d reappeared just as I had convinced Cairo that we and some of his new “associates” needed to ride out, see what the fuck was up. But my friend had been forever changed, scarred physically and on some level that he had never shared.

“I’m good, folk,” he answered after several rings.

“You sure?” I pressed.

“Always.”

I nodded. That was what I liked to hear.

“You on your way to see her?” he asked.

I was quiet for a minute, debating what to say. He knew more about her and my mixed-up feelings than anyone else, so why lie?

“Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else, and I appreciated him for that. I changed the subject quickly.

“But, say. Don’t be assuming you know what the fuck I might want?—"

He banged on me, and I let out a low chuckle. The rest of my ride was a silent, reflective one. Gerard deserved what he got, but my mama had had my brothers, two sisters, and me in church too much to at least not think about the taking of life. I had no regrets for his shady ass. I knew Ghazi would look out for his son, but I knew little man would spend a lot of years mourning the loss of a life he’d never known. Gerard’s situation also illuminated how annoying Aaqil Saleh was getting. He was a prime example of why I believed in handling certain kinds of problems immediately and permanently.

I shook my head, freeing myself of those thoughts as I pulled onto a darkened driveway and stopped outside a two-car garage. Hopping out of my baby, I made my way to the front door and rang the bell, eyes steadily sweeping my surroundings. She lived in one of the best parts of the city, but I took nothing for granted.

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