Page 48 of B.D.E
“Ghost! What—how the fuck did you get in here? What do you want, nigga?”
“What I’m tryna figure out is why the fuck you was in Spec’s café today? Can you help me with that nigga? And before you respond, remember that I’m not a nigga of many words so make sure your answer ain’t wasting my time cause anything that does, disappears.” I said, calmly but inside, I was everything but that His livelihood depended solely on the next set of words he spoke.
He frowned. “What?”
“Specs." I tilted my head. "Why the fuck was you at Specs' spot?”
He squinted. “Specs?”
I stood. His eyes dropped to the gun in my hand.
“Ivy, nigga,” I hissed. “Her name’s Ivy but I call her Specs. So I’ma ask you one more time... Why the fuck was you at her café?”
Realization hit his face like a slap.
“I was there forTori,” he said. “Tori told me she was helping her friend out, so I stopped by to see her, nigga. I ain’t know shit about Ivy being your girl.”
I stepped closer. “You still ain’t answer my question, though. Why were you there? What you want with her?”
“I told you, I was meeting Tori.” His voice rose now, trying to match mine. “That’s it. I didn’t say shit to Ivy outside of hey, a checking up on her…Tori said she was sick. Since you checking for me, did you know that nigga?”
My hand tightened on the Glock. I believed him, but I didn’t trust him or anybody else… not around her.
“You got some fuckin’ nerve!” Marcus snapped, stepping toward me now, chest out like he wanted to die about it. “Comin’ where I lay my fuckin’ head,knowingI just had to bury my fucking father. Yeah, I know what he did, but he was still my blood, Ghost. You left me with a big ass mess.”
I shrugged. “He made the mess. I just cleaned it up.”
He stared at me, jaw tight. “Nah, nigga. Youset it on fireand dipped.”
I cocked my head, stepping forward slow. “And nigga if you got a problem with that, you can get yo’ issue with me right here, right now. Just know, it ain't gone end how you think it is.”
I raised the gun, just enough for him to see I wasn’t bullshitting. Marcus wasn’t stupid though, so he knew that I wouldn’t hesitate to blow his fucking brains out if I had too. We stood there, heat in the air thick enough to choke on.
“I don’t hate you, Marcus... I never did.” I paused, voice flat. “I envied you.”
That caught him off guard.
“I watched you live life regular, while I was out here watching muthafucka’ die. I’ve seen more bodies drop than you ever will. You got to walk around, laugh, be soft. I had to look a muthafucka’ in the eye as the life drained from their bodies So yeah, Gideon was your blood, but that nigga wasn’t mine. Plus, he fucked over a lot of people before you ever got old enough to notice.”
I let the silence settle before saying, “He got what was coming. Whether it was me or somebody else.”
Marcus looked away, his shoulders falling some.
“I don’t hate you either,” he muttered. “I’m just… fuck, man. I’m tired. I ain’t got no more to give.”
I tucked the Glock into my waistband and sat down again.
“You remember Bart?” I asked.
He turned toward me. “Light skin Bart rom 10thgrade?”
“That foot-ball player nigga that always ran his mouth. He used to talk crazy about your acne and shit, tried to snatch that little bitch with the red hair that you use to talk to.”
Marcus nodded slow. “Yeah. Then that nigga stopped coming to school out of nowhere. Word was he fell down some stairs and broke his leg and his neck. He was in the hospital for weeks. Nigga never got to play ball again.” He paused. “Wait. How the fuck you know about Bart? You wasn’t in school with me, Ghost.”
“I wasn’t,” I said calmly. “But I did that shit to him.”
His eyes widened.
