Page 79 of Dr. Bell

He snickered. “IsPrettythe love of ya life?”

I grinned. “She’s the love of a million lifetimes, my baby.”

His grin matched mine, then slowly faded. “A few of my old classmates run for Quinton. They kept makin’ comments about how he could have me knocked off if he wanted to.”

My blood instantly boiled.

“So, I told them to make sure he knew that he could go fuck himself, and if he had an issue to get at you ‘cause I refused to say a word to that nigga. I’ve never had the first conversation wit’ that nigga, bruh. Never wanted to for how he didn’t give a fuck about my mama.”

I tucked Quilo’s information to the back of my mind and said, “You did right.” The fact that he knew I would have his back spoke volumes.

“That’s why those niggas jumped me. Quinton said I disrespected him, so he had to teach me a lesson.” He laughed then. “Bruh, you saw the way Saar body slammed ol’ boy?”

We shared a laugh because that shit was funny after the fact. Sending folks to jump on one kid to turn around and get embarrassed in front of all those people was the highlight of my holiday season.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

Quilo nodded. “Without a doubt.”

To think, just six months ago, he couldn’t stand the sight of me. Now, I was out here willing to sacrifice everything to avenge my son.

Clearingmythroatcaughtthe attention of the man sleeping with his dick out and his mouth wide open. His eyes snapped open, and he quickly sprang up as if I was someone who’d popped out of his darkest dreams.

“The fuck—”

“Shh… We wouldn’t want to wake the niggas in the living room.”

His eyes widened.

“Now… What the hell possessed you to have hands put on my jit?”

Quinton’s dark face seemed to flush. “He… He’s my son. His disrespectful ass asked for it!” he hissed.

“Hm. It’s funny ‘cause last time I checked, my last name is on his driver’s license.”

“Yo’ last name don’t mean shit ‘round here!” His voice escalated.

I looked back and checked behind me at the open door to see if anyone would come inside. The lighted hallway was just as empty as it was when I walked into his room. When no one appeared, I turned back to him.

“You expectin’ somebody?” I asked.

His back straightened, and he sat up even more. As he did so, he took note of the plastic covering most of the floor and the dresser. Nervously, his eyes darted to the nightstand where his gun laid.

“Reach for it,” I urged him.

Hesitantly, he did. Once the deadly weapon was in his hand, I produced my own.

“Now… We’re even,” I said and watched him visibly gulp. His hand shook as he pointed the weapon at me and fired. Nothing happened.

Reaching for the lamp, I turned it on, further illuminating his room.

“Now, we should start over before you piss me the fuck off. What possessed you to have hands put onmyson?”

He stuttered and fumbled over something to say.

“I’ll help you. Weak ass nigga shit is what drove you to fuck up the rest of ya miserable life.”

Gulping, he stared at me and waited for my next move. His eyes bounced from my ski mask covered face to the heat still clutched in my leather-gloved hand.

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