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“Yeah she’s a fuckin’ fucked up individual. I’m just holding my breath. If everything works out, then it works out. If it doesn’t, then I just brace for it.”

“I think we’ll be bracing for it. I think I should tell Eden, so she’s not blindsided. I haven’t held shit back from her yet, I don’t want to start doing it.”

“I get it. But maybe I should be the one to tell her. She can be mad at me. Her being mad at you will probably kill you,” Staysha said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You ain’t lying. Crazy how that shit works. How you two come in and change the hearts of known gangstas?”

“Y’all don’t give yourselves enough credit for your role in all this either,” Staysha commented.

The vibrating of Maximus’ phone pulled his focus from Staysha to the device.

He anticipated it being Eden for their midday check-in in but like a shock to his system, it was a number that he memorized.

A number that pulled him out of his sleep, ordered him, his gun, and worn black Air Force Ones to whatever task or mission was at him.

“Give me a second.” Maximus stood, roamed out of the rehearsal space, and put the answered phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

“You know when you had your scrawny ass in my club and I was feeding you, I expected that be returned. What’s this I hear about you buying the burger spot and not paying what you owe me?” Mama’s cigarette-torn voice rasped in his ear.

He frowned. Her voice was associated with the memory of her hot breath and the stench of Midnight.

Maximus scoffed in amusement. “Fuck you taxing me for? That’s for niggas who need protection.”

“You are a nigga that needs protection. Your brother needs protection, and your mother needs it. You rollin’ around my hood with my niece like y’all some nigga-version of Bonnie and Clyde. You know how that story ended. I need twenty-five a week.”

“Twenty-five hundred a week? You sure you not the one Augustus is shooting up with? You out your fuckin’ mind, Ma. You can handle Augustus however you want to handle him.”

“Look nigga, I ain’t going back and forth with yo ass. You can either pay the fuck up or I can head uptown and put your momma on the track. Figure it out.”

The call dropped, leaving Maximus looking at the screen as though she’d lost her mind. He couldn’t remember her ever taxing anyone in the past. If Mama was on his line about money, some shit was making her sweat.

“What the fuck was that?” Keon questioned, making his presence known.

Maximus signaled for him to be quiet as he waved him over. Keon closed in. “Mama tryin’ to tax me.”

Keon dragged a hand over his face slowly. “That paperwork was finalized for the restaurant. Fuck. How she gon’ tax us?”

“She’s not. I’m not giving her shit. Fuck her.”

“Woah, nigga,” Keon blew. “If it’s fuck Mama, it’s fuck the gang. I ain’t trying to make enemies out the niggas I used to stand next to.”

“You think I am? This shit is bigger than us. Look at who is standing next to us. The label already got me by the balls, I’m not about to be owned any fucking more.

Have Brody hire some more bodies. Shit simple.

I'm not giving that bitch two and a half bands a week. We standing on this shit and we ain’t rollin’ for not a nigga or a bitch like Mama. Heard me?”

“Heard you nigga, damn. I’ll have Brody put bodies on Eden and Staysha, too. You know how they like to roll around solo. Let’s wrap this up. You gettin’ bigger than the program.”

“I been bigger than the program. Trae Way is where we started, we not stopping there. Matter-of-fact, have Staysha look into the property Midnight is sitting on. If she needs my fuckin’ money, she in trouble. I’m finna help her with all that shit.”

“Be careful how you position yourself, niggas gon’ be looking at you for the road map.”

Maximus shrugged. “Maybe that’s what I'm here for, to lead these niggas to the lake or the top of the mountain. We ain’t meant to rot away in bondage.”

“That crown is about to get heavy.”

“Crown on my head weighed a ton the minute I came into the world. That’s just how that shit goes.”

Keon couldn’t help but to agree. Maximus had something special on him.

He’d always had it. The change of view, surroundings, and who he’d chosen to cover him made the difference in how he viewed himself.

No longer was he the nappy-headed boy from Trae Way.

He was going to be the one to lead them to something better, and that started by not bending to Mama and her demands. She'd starve before he ever fed her.

“Matter of fact, I want Midnight, the property it sits on, and everything around it. Twenty-five fuckin’ hundred a fuckin’ week. That fat ass bitch out her gotdamn mind. Got me fucked up.”

Keon nodded proudly, happy that Maximus was finally seeing what everyone else saw and tried to snuff out.

He knew who he was and Who he belonged to.

That pushed his shoulders back and poked his chest out.

Not only was he going to be Trae Way, but the one who controlled the tempo of how this was going to move moving forward.

“To the mountain top?”

“To the fuckin’ top. Anyone in my way is going to have to be moved.”