Page 6 of Cove City, Volume II

I had been calling Tuesday nonstop since she’d walked away from me.

I begged, pleaded, and almost broke down trying to get her to answer the fucking phone, but nothing worked.

Quinton had ruined something that my soul told me was good for me.

This was the second time a woman had walked away from me, but this time I didn’t do anything wrong, or did I? I didn’t know if I was coming or going, but what I did know is that I was bleeding with love and no one could mend that but Tuesday.

After facing four blunts back-to-back I finally decided to get the fuck out of bed. I headed downstairs and noticed the aftermath of Quinton's and my fight.

I was going to find his ass and when I did it was going to be slow singing and flower bringing because I was by far done with him. I had only been downstairs a few minutes before I heard rattling music coming up my driveway. I knew it was Bishop, so I opened the door so he could walk right in.

I began cleaning up the mess when Bishop came through the door.

“Fuck happen in this bitch?”

As I picked up the shattered glass, my head eased his way.

“A fucked-up situation,.

“I mumbled.

“I see that.”

I lifted.

“That nigga Quinton man. The nigga,.

“I paused.

“The nigga attacked my shorty.”

The light chuckle that left Bishop agitated me.

He threw his hands up.

“I’m not laughing at him attacking Shorty because I would have beat his ass too.

However, I’m laughing because the nigga is a clown.

I know he’s your fam and all, but if you learned nothing else from me, you know sometimes family is just a name and they ain’t shit.”

I shook my head because, sadly, I had to agree.

I tried so hard to be there for my cousin, but the nigga played in my fucking face.

The nigga deceived me after all the shit I’ve done and been through with him.

When everyone left him out to dry and his basin' ass mother left him hungry, with nowhere to lay his head, it was me who stepped in.

Quinton was the definition of a person who bites the hand that feeds them.

As I finished cleaning, I wanted Bishop to get out whatever it was he had come here for because the only thought I had right now was finding my baby and bringing her back here so we could talk.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Bishop unbuttoned his suit jacket and then stuck his hand in his pocket.

“I want to find out who set that nigga’s shop on fire. I’m not in the business to lose business nor am I in the business of letting some loony tune ass biker nigga come in, fucking up my shit, and getting away with it.”

“Did you ask Keith? He saved a girl who was in the fucking building when the bitch was set on fire.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, nigga, really.”

“Who was the girl?”

I shrugged.

“Nigga I don’t know. Let me get cleaned up, and we can ride out.”

“Bet.”

***

We pulled up to what was left of Zaria’s Place. The shit looked bad, and I almost understood why Chevy acted the way he did. If it had been my barbershop, I would have done the same thing.

Bishop and I sat in the car, waiting for Bleek to pull up. We’d always moved as a team, which made us strong ass friends. Bishop lit a blunt in the car while we waited.

“You talk to her?”

I ran my hand over my head before I glanced at him.

“Nah. Shit is fucking with me too.”

Bishop’s eyes widened then he let out a goofy ass laugh. I could feel the wrinkles forming.

“Fuck you laughing for?”

“Nigga you in love with her.”

I didn’t know what made him say that, but I sure wanted to know.

“What you mean?”

“P, my nigga. As long as I’ve known you and I’ve been knowing your ass for over a decade, you have never taken those fucking grills out since getting them. She made you do it?”

I had forgotten all about them.

“Nah, it was my choice. I was kind of in the heat of the moment.”

“Ah, pussy so good had a nigga taking out his pride and joy; his muhfuckin golds!”

We both laughed until I stopped.

“Man, I thought Sasha was the one, but Tuesday. She is so fucking different, and I’m mad the shit didn’t work out.”

Bishop went to say something when the tap at the window caught our attention. I opened the door and stepped out.

“My nigga Bleek.”

“Sup nigga,.

“he smiled.

“Life, lifing.”

“Nigga you’re preaching to the choir. What’s the word?”

Bishop came around the car.

“The word is I want to know who the fuck did this shit.”

I began to think about the night the shit happened. I knew Chevy had to have some cameras in this place.

I walked past both of them and tried to see if I could spot a camera or something, but this place was air-fried.

When I reached the back of the building, I noticed a Molotov cocktail off to the side, leaning against a bush.

This shit was planned. It made me believe it was one of two people. Keith or Quinton and the thoughts of them doing something like this only made shit worse.

The sound of shoes crushing the debris made me turn around to see Bishop also looking at the cocktail.

“Nigga, we need to talk to Keith,.

“I said to him.

“If he didn’t do it, he knows who did.”

He glanced at me with the most serious face I’d ever seen. The fucked-up part of it all, Chevy had done something that there was no coming back from and even if we found out who had done this shit it meant nothing because Bishop was not going to back down.

Every day, we were uncovering something about this place we called home, down to how fucked up family was.