Page 23 of Welcome to the Heart Of A Maniac
“I couldn’t risk you getting in trouble for jumping on that girl.”
“You still could’ve called, Wren. You know I wouldn’t have left you up there like that. How did you get home?”
“Maniac.”
“Wow, so you called him over me?”
My body tilted over where I was laying on my side. “No. I called Uncle Trayvon. He’s the one who called him. He says that he’s gon’ find the truck.”
“And you believe him?”
“I don’t know. Sort of.”
He didn’t give me any reason to believe he was lying.
“I think you’re falling in the trap.”
“No, I’m not. You know I’ll do anything to get that truck back. If he wants to help, I’m not gon’ stop him.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Tyree Sloane
“So, he really dropped us?” I questioned Uncle Trayvon. For days, I’ve been trying to figure out what that Maniac visit was all about and now he finally wanted to say something when it was around time for a new shipment.
“Yeah. You can’t blame anyone but yourself.” Trayvon turned his attention back to his computer screen. He’s sitting there without a care in the fucking world when our’s was crumbling. Maniac is trying to take away our livelihood, and he was letting the shit happen.
I slung my hand across his desk, knocking everything to the floor but the computer. “This bullshit!”
Trayvon shot to his feet and his right hand connected with the side of my face. “You can take yo’ ass outside and throw a tantrum if you want, but you’re not ’bout to do that shit in here, fucking up all my shit. Had you not been sniffing the fucking product and selling the shit like you were supposed to be, we wouldn’t be in this shit. Maybe it’s a good thing they forced us out the game. I’m getting too old for this bullshit anyway. I make more than enough money here. With that and my savings, I can survive.”
He's really fucking giving up.
“What about me?”
“Tyree, you act like you ain’t got a job. You make more than enough to live off of. Take the out and just move on with your life.”
Clenching my teeth, I stared him straight in the face. “This bullshit and you know it,” left my lips, and I stormed out of there.
If he wanted to quit the game, that shit is on him, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. The Saint-Mercier’s weren’t the only ones in the city that I can get supply from. There’s a rival family on the other side of town. They weren’t big or anything, but I knew that I could cop from them and sell that shit. Trayvon don’t even gotta know about it. Had I said anything to him about it, he’d say it was a bad idea and try to talk me out of it.
I marched out of the building and hopped into my truck, without letting Trayvon know I was leaving. It took me about twenty-five minutes to make it across town. I pulled up to Street Package and parked in front of the door. My heart rate kicked up a notch as I sat there. We’d been dealing with the Saint-Mercier’s ever since I could remember. Everyone in the city knew that we got our shit from them. To go to someone new, fucked with my anxiety. I wasn’t sure how shit was gon’ play out, but all they can do is say no.
Shrugging, I climbed out the truck and stepped to the door. Looking over my shoulder, I checked my surroundings before entering the store. I knew I was doing something I didn’t have any business doing and didn’t want anyone to see me do it.
“Let me know if you need help with anything,” the woman behind the counter said soon as her eyes landed on me.
“Actually, I do need help. I’m looking for Roc. Is he in?” Her eyes turned to slits.
“What you want with him?”
“It’s business. Can you tell me if he’s in or not?”
“Roc isn’t looking for any new business. You a cop or something?”
“Do I look like a fucking cop to you?” She’s really insulting me asking me some bullshit like that. “I promise it’ll be beneficial to him. Just let him know that Tyree is in here.”
She chuckled. “You’re tossing around your name as if it’s supposed to mean something. I don’t even know who you are, so I know he won’t either.”
