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. . .

The kilos were broken down and bagged, and Maximus was dividing them up amongst the hustlers.

Being in the trap for long hours like this was no longer appealing or appeasing.

He wanted out, but he needed to map out a plan.

Mama wasn’t going to just let him off the hook, and he couldn’t work a nine-to-five and thrive in that space.

He’d tried and failed miserably – cussing out the boss and all the employees who had issues with him and his prolonged breaks.

Rubbing the top of his head, he sat back and let the issues troubling him play on a loop.

Priya playing in his face the way she was only made him want to go out and put his fist through the face of the man who chose to disrespect him.

Priya busting it wide for someone other than him was on her.

She had to live with that. Another nigga in the streets disrespecting him while knowing how Maximus handled disrespect was the issue.

Dropping a body in broad day wasn’t a problem for him.

“Aight, MB, we all loaded up, where we meeting you?” Keon asked.

Him and Maximus served the same corners coming up, and since he’d been home, they’d been discussing ways to come up off of Maximus’ talent.

Keon knew if he stayed close and assisted in the dream, he could get out of this hellhole, too.

“54 th ,” he replied. “Unload that shit quick. It’s cold as fuck and I ain’t freezing my dick off tonight playing the waiting game.”

“Heard you,” Keon replied, leading the others out the door. “Get up with you later, big dawg.”

“Later.”

Maximus looked around the mess and groaned to himself. He stood, found a trash bag, and started cleaning up. Dirty and unorganized spaces fucked with him. By the time Augustus returned, the trap was nearly decent, and Maximus was mumbling raps to himself.

“Ay, bro,” Augustus called out, grabbing his attention. “Take this. You gon’ need to stay strapped.”

Without thinking, Augustus bore any ill intent toward him, MB took the gun and tucked it in his waist band. “You ready to hit 54 th ?”

“Yeah. You want to stop by BGC’s? I’m hungry as fuck.”

“Yeah, let’s do that. Hopefully these niggas don’t take all fucking night either.”

The two roamed out of the house, and in a comfortable, ignorant silence, Maximus bobbed his head to the beat only he could hear; writing lyrics amongst the stars as he looked up toward the sky.

At Burgers and Grills and Chills, Maximus blew the heat of his breath into his cupped hands as he stood to the side and waited for his number to be called.

“I didn’t find Wando, but his ass will turn up,” Augustus spoke, scanning their area.

“Send his ass to me, we’ll have the conversation,” Maximus stated.

For a cold night, the space was full. Music blasted from cars, and he took in the liveliness.

That, and a nearby car of what appeared to be Trae Way Gangstas, who shouted Augustus’ name and waved him over.

They were from 30 th , Trae 30’s, the group Maximus associated with was from 80 th , 3Way 80’s, and they hated each other.

But everyone knew that neither brother was to be involved in the bullshit.

If messages needed to be passed along, they went through them.

“Ay, get my shit too,” Augustus stated, tossing him the keys as he walked away. “You driving too.”

Maximus peeped the police cars and didn’t think anything of it.

Police were always popping up to either eat or harass someone.

Sometimes both. A handful exited their cars and roamed over.

Being that Maximus hadn’t committed a crime they knew about, he wasn’t worried about them stepping to him.

He retrieved their food and headed back to the car.

The quiet he was searching for was interrupted by guns drawn and a fist to the window.

“Get your ass out the car!” an officer shouted.

Maximus frowned as he opened the door. “I ain’t do shit. What the fuck y’all want?”

“Nah, you didn’t do nothing?” the officer said with a chuckle, yanking Maximus from the car. “We just got a call that said you and this car were spotted fleeing the scene of a homicide.”

“I ain’t kill nobody and I wasn’t driving! Fuck y’all talking about?” Maximus argued, scanning the area for his brother, but the car of Trae Way Gangstas and Augustus were gone. It became very clear that Augustus had set him up.

Maximus put his hand atop the car and grimaced. Another officer in the back scoffed as he said, “The car ain’t yours, MB? Funny how it’s registered to you.”

The officer who yanked him out of the car patted him down, finding the murder weapon. “We got a gun. Looks like you like being in jail. Didn’t you just get out?”

Maximus didn’t say anything. What could he say that would be any different than what Augustus had done to him?

He kept quiet as the cold cuffs were clamped around his wrists and he was shoved into the back of a cop car.

The little taste he’d had of freedom had slipped.

Being processed back into the jail he just left was amplified as he thought about everything.

He wouldn’t be getting out in six months, or even a year, there wouldn’t be shit to come home to and his brother wasn’t his keeper.

It was enough to make a grown man cry, but Maximus held his head.

When he was granted his first phone call, he called Keon, knowing he’d answer and wouldn’t say shit to anyone else.

After the prompt introduced the call, Keon spoke. “What the hell, nigga?”

“This shit is recorded, nigga, just listen. You know that spot I showed you last year?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Go. Get that stack, take it to my lawyer, he’ll know what to do with it.”

“Anything I can do?”

“You want to be a manager, right? Shop my shit around, get me some buzz. I’m going to be in here for a minute.”

“Aight, holla at me if you need something. I’ll check in.”

“Aight, yeah,” Maximus said, stuck in the middle of a betrayal he never saw coming. “We’ll see.”