Page 20 of June: When Gangstas Collide

After leaving Indigo, I decided to visit Naheem. When I pulled up to Naheem’s, I saw his car in the driveway and another car I hadn’t recognized. I parked and walked up to the door. As I was stepping in, Clark Mercier and Bobbie Laureaux were coming out. They both stared at me as if they had done some fucked up shit. I moved quickly inside because I didn’t want them to take out Naheem before I had a chance to get my hands on him. My mother had already been taken from me, and although I know she deserved her demise, a part of me was hoping to get some acceptance from her before she did.

Since I was young, I’ve been doing my mother’s odd dirty deeds all to hear words I would never get the chance to hear: ‘I’m proud of you.’ I figured maybe, as time went on, she would see me for who I was, her son. I waited and waited in hopes that one day I could get it, but Naheem took it from me, and now I will never know.

As I stepped into the house, the smell of a freshly lit cigar filled the air. I followed the smell, which led to Naheem’s office. He pulled the cigar from his lips and he squinted beyond the smoke. “Son,”

he called out.

“Naheem.”

“I’m surprised you remembered where I lived. What the fuck do you have on?”

I glanced down at my clothes before looking at him. I had become accustomed to wearing suits, so regular clothes weren’t only new for me but also for people who were used to seeing me all the time. I ignored what Naheem said as I sat in the chair in front of him. My gun sat on my waist as my fingers itched to snatch it and put a bullet straight through his head. However, I wanted to know what Clark and Bobbie were doing here. I pointed behind me, “What was that? Matter of fact, what was all that shit, the Prestige? Nigga you aren’t Prestigious.”

Naheem laughed.

“See, son, that’s where you’re wrong. I am. The Averys have a long history, one that you will soon get to see.”

I shook my head.

“Fuck the Averys.”

His fists hit his desk.

“No! Fuck the Princes. You are an Avery. Whether you want to accept it or not nigga you came from these balls. So you better start respecting the game and me.”

I laughed because Naheem was talking a lot of bullshit.

“I’m not scared of you. I told you that. See, Naheem, that’s the problem, you think I’m Anthony, but I’m not. You fucked up right along with my mother. Both of you dropped the ball, and I’m not falling for your bullshit. So yes, you took part in making me, but nigga you never made me.”

He ashed the cigar before he stood and sat at the edge of the desk.

“What? I’m supposed to feel bad because you don’t like me? I tried apologizing, but it wasn’t enough, just like Angela, nothing is ever the fuck enough. You love the bitch—”

Whap! Whap!

I hit his ass, making him drop to the floor.

“Fuck you, nigga!” I barked

Whap!

“You’ve been begging for this ass whooping. The pot calling the fucking kettle black.”

I went to hit his ass again when I felt my arm being pulled back. “Stop!”

a female’s voice screamed.

I snatched my arm as I turned around to look to see a woman I’d never seen before.

“Another one on your roster, you better run and run fast, lady.”

Naheem lifted from the floor and wiped his mouth. He waved at her, “Give us a minute, I’m ok.”

She eyed me evilly as she backed out of his office, closing the door. Naheem flexed his jaw before he glared at me.

“Make that your last time. I know you dislike me, and as I mentioned before, I will accept it, but we have business to attend to. You are to take on the Avery’s legacy. That muhfucka Clark owes a lot of money to this family, and until he pays what he owes, you son will own every single property that Calloway boy owns.”

“I don’t want his shit. I want him to stay on his fucking side of town.”

“Why, when you can own his side. I could do it, but that’s not how this works. Same reason he would have to take on the Merciers’ debt.”

I shook my head.

“You’re lucky you got company. I owe you one.”

I had come to talk about my mother, but somehow got wrapped up in some elite scheme of bullshit.

However, knowing I was about to own all of Chevy’s property did make a nigga a little happy because now that the so-called king was about to be at the mercy of a Prince.

I had been in the house for hours since coming back with Clark and his friends.

To see the amount of support he had was amazing.

I didn’t realize the number of people he had standing behind him until I went to his house to get Zaria, and they all rode out the way they did.

Clark was a true king, and it began to make sense why Bishop felt the way he did.

Although he had a team behind him and a city that supported him, it was a different level altogether.

Clark and I were slowly getting somewhere, and that made me happy.

I wish there was a way the two could get along.

I grabbed a few snacks out of the fridge and walked through my parents’ empty house to the living room.

I thought about going over to Zaria’s to check on her, but I’m sure she and Clark needed this alone time.

I found a comfy spot on the oversized couch and turned on the TV.

I glanced at my phone, expecting Bishop to call me or something, but I got nothing.

I started to miss London.

She had become more of a support animal for me, and without her, I felt sick.

Trying to fight the urge to use was becoming harder by the day. At least once, I was on the moon, nothing or no one mattered, not even loneliness.

A knock at the door startled me because if it were my sister, she would have walked in without knocking.

I got up from the couch and walked over to the door.

I peeked out of the window, and I didn’t see anyone.

I unlocked the door and poked my head out.

I was tempted to close the door back until a familiar panting alerted me.

London sat there looking up at me.

A bright smile appeared on my face because she truly made my heart smile.

I opened the door, reached down, and picked her up.

I took another look around, hoping Bishop was somewhere around, but I didn’t see him or his car.

Him dropping London off was nice. It was small things like that which made me miss him.

I stepped back inside with London in my arms and went to close the door when I heard his voice behind me.

“So, you're willing to accept London but not me?”

My eyes closed slowly because the feeling was going through me deep down, and I knew I needed him. Bishop wrapped his arms around my waist as he came closer to me, stepping inside the house. I slowly turned around to him, gazing at me. My eyes surveyed his face, “I-I’m happy you’re here,”

I said honestly.

“You changed clothes. I liked the casual look.”

I giggled.

He reached out and stroked my cheek.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,”

he muttered before he raised a brow.

“I thought you liked my suits. Besides, I wanted to come to you correct this time.”

He winked.

Bishop leaned forward and kissed my lips softly. His lips were so comforting and what I needed. I lay my head on his chest to take him in for a second. I set London down and allowed her to run through the house.

“I was about to watch a movie. You want to join me?”

“Whatever you want to do, baby. I’m happy you’re letting a nigga be around, that’s all.”

I took his hand, leading him into the living room.

“Oh, you were really getting comfortable without me?”

he smiled.

“Maybe.”

Bishop took off his suit jacket and neatly placed it over the arm of the couch. I climbed underneath the blanket and patted the spot next to me. He came over and sat down. I curled up under him while he wrapped his arms around me.

“Are you sad about your mom?” I asked.

I know I hadn’t said too much about his mother since finding out she had passed. I felt him take in a deep breath, “I don’t know. A part of me is sad, but a part of me feels free.”

“I understand. If it matters, I’m sorry.”

He squeezed me tightly.

“It’s not your fault, baby. How are you doing, though?”

I didn’t know how honest I wanted to be with him. I didn’t want him to lose it if I told him I wanted to use. It was so easy for everyone to tell me what not to do, but nobody was in my shoes. I didn’t want him to judge my urges. So I lied.

“I’m good.”

He scooted down further into the couch until his phone vibrated. He reached over and grabbed it out of his jacket, then answered on speakerphone, “P waddup?”

“Nigga, I’ve been calling yo brick head ass all day.”

“I’ve been busy. What’s good?”

“Naheem is a dirty nigga, the muhfucka been fucking my moms and the nigga is Quinton’s brother.”

Bishop sat up, pushing me backwards, “The fuck?”

“That’s what I said. Mom has these letters, and she and Naheem are going back and forth. I mean, I handled Quinton, but the nigga is an Avery. I don’t know what the fuck that nigga Naheem has up his sleeve, but the nigga is dirty. I know he killed your mom, and I hate to say it, but the nigga probably handled Ishmael too.”

Bishop’s hand ran down the front of his face.

“A’ight. Let me get back to you. As a matter of fact, meet me at the club, I’ll text Bleek.”

“Bet.”

Bishop hung up the phone and dropped his head.

“Bishop, I’m—”

“I’ve got to go. I will be back,”

he said as he got up.

“But Bishop I—”

“I said I will be back. I will leave London here.”

He leaned down to kiss me and I turned my head. I didn’t want to be alone, and he was about to leave. He snatched his jacket and left. All I could do was cry because the more I tried to find a piece of happiness, it was taken from me. I felt like the only person I had was my fucking dog.

I began to settle myself back into the zone I was in before Bishop had come over for a match, when the sound of the door opening again caused me to look back. Had Bishop changed his mind? I got from the couch to meet him in the foyer where I was met by my grandfather. He didn’t bother to speak as he glanced at me quickly before walking into my mother’s office and closing the door.

It had always been something about him that never sat right with me. Instead of asking a question, I veered off back to where I was, but a part of me wanted to bust into the office room to see what the hell he was doing.