Page 25

The leasing office at North Haven Heights Apartments was buzzing with activity. Phones rang, tenants filtered in with complaints and questions, and the faint scent of someone’s reheated leftovers drifted in from the break room.

Kenyatta was posted up in the corner, flipping through a stack of maintenance reports, when the front door swung open loud as hell.

“AYE!”

Kenyatta didn’t even have to look up; he already knew who it was.

Jay-1 strolled in like he owned the building, his gold grill flashing, his swagger turned all the way up, and an unnecessary toothpick hanging from his lips.

“Boy, I thought this was a damn leasing office, not the damn bank,” Jay-1 announced, looking around. “Y’all got money in here, huh?”

Kenyatta sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell you doing here, Jay-1?”

“Checking in on my dog, man,” Jay-1 grinned. “Making sure you ain’t too deep in this 9-to-5 shit.”

Before Kenyatta could respond, Jay-1’s attention locked onto one of the leasing agents: Shanelle.

She was sitting behind her desk, unimpressed, arms crossed, watching him like he was one step away from getting cussed out.

Jay-1 licked his lips, adjusting his chain. “Damn, you look like you date drug dealers.”

Shanelle deadpanned. “I don’t.”

Kenyatta burst out laughing, shaking his head.

Jay-1 held a hand over his heart. “Damn, so you just gon’ hurt my feelings like that?”

Shanelle went back to typing. “Boy, you don’t have no damn feelings.”

Kenyatta smirked, cutting his eyes at Jay-1. “Go ahead, bruh. Take that L and get on.”

Jay-1 sucked his teeth, unfazed. “Aye, lemme holla at you real quick.”

Kenyatta exhaled hard, nodding toward the back office.

The bullshit was coming, and as soon as the door shut, Jay-1’s whole demeanor shifted.

Jokes were over.

“Aye, bruh,” Jay-1 started, his voice lower than usual, that tone that always came before some bullshit. “We got a problem.”

Kenyatta leaned back against the desk, arms crossing over his chest. “Nah, nigga. You got a problem. Speak for your damn self.”

Jay-1 sucked his teeth, shaking his head. “See, that’s where you wrong. It’s a ‘ we’ thing, ‘cause this shit got your name stamped all over it.”

Kenyatta’s jaw ticked. Here we go.

Jay-1 sighed, rubbing the back of his neck like even he didn’t want to say it out loud. “Rico want his bread, Yatta.”

Just like that, the whole energy in the room shifted.

Kenyatta stared at him. “Rico?”

Jay-1 nodded. “Yeah. That Rico.”

Kenyatta dragged a hand down his face. “Man, that was seven years ago. I been locked down.”

“And now you out,” Jay-1 said, voice flat. “Which means, to him, that clock started ticking again.”

Kenyatta exhaled slow. He knew the game. You owe? You pay. Ain’t no extensions, ain’t no “my bad”, and damn sure ain’t no “let me hold a little more time”. The streets don’t do no favors, and the streets don’t forget.

He just needed time. Time to get his footing. Time to get his pockets right. Time to build before he had to deal with the weight of his past. But time wasn’t something Rico was in the business of giving.

“How much?” Kenyatta finally asked, even though he already knew whatever Jay-1 was about to say was going to be some bullshit.

Jay-1 blew out a slow breath. “Fifty.”

Kenyatta squinted. “Nigga… fifty ? What…Fifty!”

Jay-1 lifted a shoulder. “Interest, nigga. You know how this shit go.”

Kenyatta let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Man, he taxing like I borrowed that shit from a damn bank.”

“Look, bruh, ain’t no such thing as free money in Trinity,” Jay-1 said, voice serious. “You know that. Ain’t like you went in tryna set up no payment plan. That money been on ice for seven years. Rico ain’t the type to be forgetful.”

Jay-1 continued, “That’s what he said. And best believe? That nigga dead ass serious.”

Kenyatta was already shaking his head. “Nah. I ain’t in that life no more.”

Jay-1 let out a sharp laugh, pacing. “Yeah? Tell that to him . Rico don’t give a fuck about your lil’ fresh start story. He want his bread.”

Kenyatta flexed his hands, jaw locking up. He knew how this worked. Rico wasn’t coming for no sit-down talk. This wasn’t finna be no “let me get to it when I get to it” type of deal.

You owe. You pay. It didn’t matter if it had been seven years or seventy. And the way Jay-1 was looking at him; yeah, this wasn’t just a warning, this was a countdown.

Jay-1 leaned against the desk next to him.

“Look, I ain’t come here to stress you out,” Jay-1 said, voice lighter like he was about to present some brilliant solution.

Kenyatta already knew where this was headed. “A run,” he muttered.

Jay-1 nodded. “One run. Quick play. We get in, get out, hit a quick flip, break him off, and you straight.”

Kenyatta stared at him. “And if I say no?”

Jay-1 whistled low, rocking back on his heels. “Then you already know what’s gon’ happen.”

Kenyatta knew exactly what was going to happen.

Jay-1 studied him, smirking. “So, what’s up with you and Ms. Boss Lady?”

Kenyatta cut him a look. “What?”

Jay-1 leaned against the desk, grin widening. “You heard me. You hit that yet?”

Kenyatta exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Man, you need to chill.”

Jay-1 snorted. “Chill? Nigga, I see how she look at you. More importantly, I see how you look at her. You really tryna tell me you ain’t got a plan?”

Kenyatta stayed silent.

Jay-1 sucked his teeth. “You wild. A boss chick like that? The type who pay you just to stand around looking good? You could slide that Rico debt right across her desk and be done with it.”

Kenyatta’s jaw flexed. “Nah.”

Jay-1 arched a brow. “‘ Nah’ ? Nigga, you struggling to get that kind of money in two weeks, and you got a walking, talking cash-out option right in your damn face.”

Kenyatta shook his head. “She’s done enough.”

Jay-1 laughed. “‘ Done enough’ ? Bruh, if she really fuck with you like that, she won’t even trip. Might even respect you more for coming to her first.”

Kenyatta exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “I ain’t about to ask her for shit.”

Jay-1 tilted his head, watching him closely. “Damn…it’s like that?”

Kenyatta didn’t answer, but it indeed was like that .

He wasn’t about to go to Krys with his problems. Not this problem. Not when she had already done more than he could’ve expected. He wasn’t built like that.

If he was going to get out of this, he’d do it himself. He had a couple of weeks to figure it out.