Page 5

After my silent hour, I get my appointment card for two days from now and zoom off to the studio right quick before the Foe Dub meeting. As long as I’m doing something, I don’t go too far into my mind. So of course, the hour I’m stagnant every other day, memories assault me and remind me that I’m defective.

Poor Granddad knew some shit was off. Even as a baby, I didn't play much. Didn’t do much of anything. Didn’t smile. Didn’t babble. I was just there.

And then one day Nana took me to work with her and I lit up and started touching the keyboard buttons of her computer and babbling my lil head off. And after that, I was always around one, my Nana’s at her job in an attorney’s office, the family one, and then my own laptop.

I’d shut down if I couldn’t play with one. All my toys were some type of electronic device. I’m sure Granddad blamed himself until his last breaths for making me all about tech.

I wasn’t bratty, even though I was an only child until I was fourteen. I didn’t get combative, not really. But I would get sad. I’d cry and cry, not wanting to get out of bed for days at a time. It would happen like once a year, until Charles Watson’s bitch ass started targeting me.

Then it was happening every month.

That’s why I beat his ass, recorded it, and posted it everywhere.

Including the new electronic sign at Peabody Car Lot.

But it wasn't enough. He needed to be punished still. So I did.

I ruined that nigga’s life.

And to be honest, I’d do it again.

If only to feel better for five more minutes.

Indica burns my nose as I enter Studio B in the 4W Recordings building. The lights are dimmed, and Doechii is playing low.

“If it isn’t Captain Shad himself.”

Wyn taps the built-in screen on the coffee table and turns off the music before going back to her composition book.

She’s sitting cross-legged, in a G$ oversized crewneck and her blonde wig up in a high ponytail. Even dressed down, she’s got on makeup that covers her freckles.

The extra tall styrofoam cup on the coffee table makes me grimace as I sit in the chair next to her.

“How was therapy?”

“Meh. Where everybody at?”

“Wayne is blowing up the bathroom, but it’s just us today. You gone bless me with a hook now that you and my nigga not beefing no more?”

She smirks at me and reaches for the cup, but I snatch it from her.

My nose wrinkles when I bring it to my face. This shit is straight tequila.

“I’m not doing shit until you stop drinking, Wyn.”

Her ears turn red as she reaches for the cup, but I pull it away from her.

That just makes her huff, before she smirks and licks her lips.

Wyn stands and straddles me. My free hand automatically goes to her waist as she hoods her eyes. Sweet perfume and alcohol invade my senses, and Lil Shad wakes up.

Wyn loves playing this game. Before she was Wynter Snow, before she was Set’s girl, she was still one of the baddest in the city. And she knows it.

“What you doing, Wyn?”

She leans in flush with my chest, and places those full lips of hers at my ear.

“Give me my shit, Rahshad,”

she purrs.

She snatches her cup from me and hops up like she’s on fire, cackling and settling back into her seat.

“Too fucking easy. I take it you and Sahara are still on the outs?”

She takes a gulp and raises her brows, while I rearrange my dick.

“Using the fact I’m just a man is low. What if someone walked in?”

She shrugs, and closes her comp book.

“Then they do. Everyone already thinks we fucking on the low… why do you think my first single is named Helen of Troy?”

I just shake my head and get up.

“I’m billing Sheisty for this session, so yo ass better have something for me… And slow down on the drinking, foreal, Wyn.”

“Just because you’re going to therapy doesn’t mean you’re showing up. Stay dangerous, Shaddy.”

Wyn turns the music back on as I walk out.

I don’t have time to think about whatever she’s talking about. I haven’t been called to a Foe Dub meeting in years, so whatever the reason for this, it’s big. I’ve been kind of avoiding everyone besides Nut since BirchFest, so I couldn’t reach out, and Nut’s as clueless as I am.

Reem and Ty have been handling everything while Set recuperates at home from being shot last November. He’s lucky to be alive, and with intense physical therapy, he gained full control of his arm again, but he doesn't have feeling in his ring and pinky fingers.

Thank God he’s left-handed.

But a Foe Dub meeting isn’t needed to announce he’s back in the field. So I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

I pull up to the Center, noting that almost everyone is here already. To keep the Feds away, Foe Dub is signed up as a basketball team in the adult league here, so any time we meet, it’s listed as a private practice. I make my way through the Center, saying hi to the old ladies milling about from the knitting class, until I get to the utility closet. There’s a hidden door there, and I take the stairs down to the large room where everyone’s waiting.

Set sees me first, and worry flashes for a second before he composes himself. I stand off to the side, away from everyone, and take the scene in.

Set’s standing with three others. The nigga in the middle is big, buffer than my ass, with a S-curl and a scowl on his face worse than Nut. The nigga next to him, off to the side, is his opposite in every way. Light where he’s dark, long hair where his is short, smiling where he’s scowling, skinny as fuck where he’s big. The only thing they got in common is that they’re both kinda tall.

The girl hanging off him is tall, too. Not as tall as them, but taller than Dal, especially in sky high heels. She looks so out of place for a meeting like this, wearing a pink head wrap that matches the pink coverup she has on, covering a white bikini. At least six different gold chains adorn her neck, covering most of it. She looks like she’s on her way to a day party, not a criminal organization meeting.

“Shorty bad as fuck. Too bad I’m locked down,”

Turk says as he and Nut join me on the wall.

“Double locked down. Why the fuck she here though?”

Ty, Reem, and Rico join us.

“What’s going on, Reem?”

He shrugs, his eyes never leaving the woman.

“Set called this meeting. Who are they?”

Rico’s eyes stretch and he pulls on one of his curls. “I think–”

“Aight,”

Set rasps, interrupting him. The other niggas settle down so he doesn’t have to project his voice too much.

“A nigga thought I was finna be up outta here. My girl finna drop my seeds any day now, so it’s the perfect time for me to take a step back. I’m always Foe Dub Foe Life, but as far as business, refer to Reem and Ty indefinitely.”

I’m not surprised. Set never wanted to be in the game forever out of respect for his mother.

I’m actually surprised he stayed on as long as he did before he got shot. As a silent investor in all our other shit, he has more than enough money to sustain him without being the head honcho, not even counting his city contracts with the Birch.

“Who are they?”

someone asks. The skinny nigga grins and takes a step forward before the woman places her hand on his chest.

I swear Reem’s jaw clenches at the sight.

Set glances behind him before smirking.

“These are the Triplets. Y’all got anything to say?”

He looks at the big nigga, who shakes his head once.

“Aight. Stay dangerous niggas.”

Set dismisses everyone else, but we stay put, especially when the four of them begin walking toward us.

Set doesn't speak again until the door closes all the way.

“This YC, YP, and YT. Y’all gone be with Ty and Reem, but this is Rico, Nut, Turk, and my brother Shad.”

“Oh, this Dal’s new nigga?”

The skinny one, YP, says. He sizes Nut up so boldly I barely hold in my laugh.

“And who the fuck is you, Foe?”

Nut’s face balls up as he reaches behind him.

“Nut, chill. These Brina’s peoples. Her cousins.”

“So? The fuck?”

Nut stops reaching for his piece, though.

The girl, YT, beams at him.

“Yeah, I see why she fucks witchu. Congrats on the engagement. Glad you guys made up after Mo’s memorial.”

She gently pushes YP into YC, and they start walking toward the door.

YT looks around, letting her eyes linger on Reem for half a second longer than the rest of us.

“Sorry we couldn’t come to the baby shower, but I’m looking forward to getting to know you all,”

she giggles, before focusing back on Nut.

“Tell Dal I’ll be seeing her soon. And when she gasps, mention how I hate waiting. See ya!”

She turns and skips out, catching up with the other two before they leave.

“Who the fuck are they?”

Ty scratches his head, still looking at the door they just went through.

“Man, they Brina’s cousins. Mekhi tried to act like he was sending them here to keep an eye on our shit, but I think he really just ain’t want them in Northupton. They make Rico and Nut look like nuns, I heard.”

“Mace mentioned them coming. I guess I didn’t picture YT being a woman.”

Rico rubs his chin and glances at Reem.

“You good?”

“Yeah. They gone be a problem, though.”

“Yeah, and we can’t even do nothing ‘cause they connected. You hear how that bitch threatened Choc like it was nothing?! Shad–”

“Already on it.”

They’re so off the chain, I’m sure their names ring bells. It’ll be nothing to get files compiled.

“I’ma need a computer though.”

I smirk at Nut, who grunts.

“Fine, come get that shit from storage. That bitch gives me a bad fucking feeling. Talkin’ bout she hate waiting.”

I think about YT. She’s gorgeous, with dark chocolate skin and full lips. But she gives me a bad feeling, too.

I shouldn’t feel familiarity when I think of her.