Page 62 of Adonis Gates

“Came to holla at you. Where ya brother?”

“In the office.” He pointed. “You want me to go get him?”

“Naw, Zig got it.” I answered, tossing my head toward the door. He nodded and slid off the stool then headed to the back.

Brent finally noticed that Deek was there too after he let the two patrons out and locked the door behind them so we didn’t have to worry about being interrupted. When he finally looked back at me fear danced around in his eyes, rightfully so. He knew I only came out this way if there was a problem. Even when Vado was in charge, I told them that if they had to deal with anyone other than Zig, it was a problem.

“What’s going on, Don? What’s this about?”

“We gon’ get to that when ya other half get in here.” I smirked. “Po’ a nigga a drink or somethin’,” I suggested. “What kind of fuckin’ service is this?”

“Naw for real.” Deek laughed. “Let me get a double shot of D’usse on the rocks.”

“Two, but I don’t want no ice.”

With shaky hands, he put two glasses in front of us, filling Deek’s with ice, before he poured the liquor in. The nigga was shaking so bad he spilled some of the alcohol on the counter. I reached for a napkin to clean the shit up before grabbing my glass and taking a drink.

“Fuck you so nervous for? Don’t you do this all the fuckin’ time?”

“I-I j-what’s g-going on?” he stammered. “W-why’d you send the customers away?”

Before I could answer his question, Zig was surfacing with Brent’s twin brother, Brad. He shoved him in the direction where Brent was then rounded the bar, sliding onto the stool between Deek and me.

He had a folder in his hand that he tossed on the counter in front of us before asking, “damn, y’all niggas ain’t get me shit to drink?”

“We ain’t know what yo’ ass wanted.” Deek chuckled.

“What y’all drinkin’? You coulda got me that.”

“D’usse.” I answered and he turned his nose up. He didn’t fuck with brown liquor like that. “Exactly.”

“Let me get a double shot of Don straight up.” Brent’s trembling ass went to pour his drink. “Nigga you got Parkinson’s or some shit? Fuck you shakin’ like that for?”

“Scared.” Deek snickered.

Brent slid Zig’s drink to him at the same time I grabbed the folder and began to sift through it. It had the initialsBJCwritten on the tab at the top. Inside were all of the invoices that Demetri had showed me as well as some other paperwork. He also had a small bag filled with money that he’d placed on the counter as well.

“This it?”

“Yeah,” Zig answered as he shook his head.

I zipped it then slid it in Deek’s direction before turning to face Brent and Brad.

“Fellas, it’s been a lil’ minute since I had to actually come out here and show my face.”

“R-right.” Brad gulped. “I-is there a problem?”

“Oh, fa show.” I nodded, taking another sip of my drink. “I count like…” I grabbed the folder to glance over it even though I didn’t need to. I knew exactly how much money they owed me, but I fucked with the dramatic effect shit. “Two hundred thousand problems.”

“D-Don…” Brad immediately began to stammer.

“Who you workin’ with?”

“N-nobody.”

“Oh, BJC is somebody.” I pointed to the folder. “And you gon’ fuckin’ tell me or you gon’ die. Shit is that simple.”

“Don…”