Page 14 of Girl, We Go Together
“How does she even know for real? Her slime ass is probably tryna get you to get rid of this nigga so y’all can run off into the fucking sunset with each other.”
He shook his head quickly to disagree with me. Bitches set niggas up every day to do stupid shit, and I hated that his goofy ass wasn’t seeing it. Or better yet, I hated that his ass wouldn’t even entertain the idea.
“The sunset doesn’t sound too bad either.” He placed his hand on his chin in a joking manner.
“Nigga, this is serious. Azul is not about to play about his money.”
My connect, I mean the connect I gave to him, didn’t fuck around. Azul and his wifey, Justice, ran a well-oiled machine in Brooklyn and had done so for years. He was the biggest distributor out in Brooklyn. Getting his work straight from the Dominican Republic meant that the work I had was pure. He was deep in with the Ruiz Cartel. I was lucky to get him to fuck with a nigga like me, so when I transitioned out of the streets and had my brother step into my place, I had to do a lot of politicking to even get Azul to see the benefits of me keeping it in the family. He didn’t like dealing with new niggas directly, and honestly, I didn’t blame him.
“I didn’t even think about his crazy ass,” my brother admitted.
“That should have been the first thing that crossed your mind,” I said as I rolled down my window and then closed my car door.
“I’ll speak to Fresh.”
Omari nodded with a grin of satisfaction. I knew his ass was waiting for me to lend my assistance. Although I shouldn’t have to because he was his own man, I couldn’t help but come to my brother’s rescue. I didn’t know how I should go about things. More importantly, I hadn’t spoken to Fresh in years. Iwas still trying to wrap my head around how to even start the conversation. The moment I sat across from Fresh, I knew I would be stepping back into the streets, and I worked damn hard to avoid that shit. I had a son and a business to worry about. I was pissed that Omari had even gotten himself into this bullshit.
“Good, y’all still here. One of y'all go to the store and get me a case of Pepsi.”
I looked up the driveway and saw that Moms was standing on herJesus Bless This Housedoormat.
“Tag, you’re it,” I said to Omari before I slammed my car door and backed out of the driveway. The least he could do was go to the store for her since I was about to hopefully get his ass out of the fire. I just hoped I didn’t get burned in the process.
Cayla
I was in the middle of rubbing my rumbling stomach when Mello started to growl lightly. It was one of those whisper barks where he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger, but he knew someone was coming. Shortly after, I heard keys turning in the front door.
“I’m dancing and emphasizing.”
Melanie Barnett was on her single shit, dancing across the screen when Orion walked in with bags in hand. He glanced at the television as he walked into the room.
“Hey,” I greeted him with a smile.
The aroma of oxtails filled my surroundings, and that alone caused my dimples to deepen.
“Hey, pretty girl.” His eyes glanced over at the television again before handing me a bag. “Her ass danced and emphasized right into being a ho.”
I chuckled because his face was so serious.
“Don’t be hating on med school.”
“This was my shit when it came out,” he said as he sat on the computer chair in the room.
He placed his own platter on the desk and then opened it. Together, we ate and watched about three episodes ofThe Gamein silence. It wasn’t an awkward moment, though. I was comfortable, too comfortable. When we were both finished, he gathered our trays and put them in the kitchen garbage. He looked down at mine before closing it and grabbing it. A piece of me felt a little twinge of embarrassment at the way I had cleaned the oxtail bones. Men I dated before would have surely said something about that, but he didn’t. When he came back into the room, the gray Nike sweater he was wearing that matched his sweats was off, revealing the plain white t-shirt he was wearing underneath.
“Ouch,” I mumbled.
“What’s wrong?” He quickly came to my bedside.
I done rubbed these damn feet together again. Instantly, I thought about how I needed to cover up my stitches.
“Can you pass me that bag on the dresser, please?”
I had about four different bags scattered across the surface, so he got to pointing at different ones.
“The last one on the end.”
He picked up the bag and then handed it to me before going back to his seat. I propped myself up on the bed so I could cover my wound.
