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“What you been doing to him?” I asked Asif as I followed him down into the dungeon of his warehouse.

“You gon’ see,” he replied, walking down a long hall before we ventured into another fucking room.

“Nigga, I ain’t trying to get lost in this bitch. Shit is like a fucking haunted house,” I said, nodding my head up to Free who was doing some task Asif had him fucking with off to the side.

AJ came into view, and I saw he was strung up over a large oval bucket of some type of liquid.

“How you doing, cuz?” Asif asked, leaning on the edge of the table in here that Free was working on the other end of.

“Man, get me down!” AJ cried out, dressed in some Gucci track suit and sweating bullets.

“Aight.” Asif said and lowered him until his foot hit the liquid. I quickly learned it was acid or some shit, as it burned and sizzled on his foot, causing AJ to scream out like a bitch.

Asif and Free laughed a little bit, and once I could process what just happened, so did I.

AJ’s maimed foot was basically no longer as Asif brought him back up. He cried, eyes wide as he looked for his foot.

“Nique, talk to this crazy nigga, man!” He pleaded with me.

“No can do. Gave yo’ ugly ass chance after fucking chance, and you thought shit was a game.” I shook my head. “You fucked up dropping that bullshit ass interview ’bout my wife.”

As AJ tried to explain himself, Asif said, “I got whatever you want.” He gestured to the table beside him full of torture tools.

“Nigga, you got a bow and arrow? Who got time for that shit?”

“It’s a silent shot.” Asif picked it up, aimed it AJ, who began shaking his head and pleading, before Asif let off the arrow. It pierced AJ’s thigh, causing him to howl like a muthafucka. “The weapon is silent, not the target. I left the good organs and spots for you.” He handed it to me.

“Nah, I’m good. I ain’t no fucking Viking,” I said, making Free chuckle.

I decided to use the metal bat on that nigga. It was quick, I could get my anger out, it hurt like fuck, and it wouldn’t kill the nigga immediately, so he could feel the torture. And every time he said some smart shit, Asif lowered him into the acid to burn him. At this point, his bottom half was corroded like fuck.

“Nique, I swear to God I won’t say shit else,” AJ begged, drooling, bleeding, and looking like a fucking zombie or some shit.

“I know you won’t.” I nodded to Asif who let the rope drop completely, submerging AJ into the liquid as he burned alive.

Once his screams had subsided, Asif stood and said, “How shit is gon’ go is his wife is gon’ go down for his murder and disappearance. Her showing strife between ’em on social media actually worked in our favor. He too famous for him to just disappear for no reason. We gon’ have what’s left of this nigga buried in the backyard, and it’ll be done. Everything else is in place.”

“Aight. Cool.” I nodded, shaking my head at what was left of AJ’s corpse. Shit didn’t have to get this far, but he asked for it. “So this how you do niggas in the streets?”

“If I can. Wanted it for Cedric’s big knock-kneed, shrimp-postured ass, but you know how that shit went.” He shrugged as Free and I guffawed.

“Aye, nigga, watch out! He up!” Free hollered, making me bolt to the door. I could feel how wide my eyes were. I didn’t even wanna look behind me, so I just ran. When I noticed he and Asif doubled over in laughter, I got pissed off. “Nigga thought it was Thriller in this bitch.”

Free began singing Michael Jackson’s song as Asif tried and failed not to laugh at my fucking expense.

“Yeah, y’all think shit is funny in this haunted ass muthafucka until some shit roll up on you! I’m out!” I pushed through the door, hearing Asif tell Free that was fucked up but still laughing at a nigga.

* * *

Today was the day that Devante and his wife would be coming over to the St. Thomas residence, and I was anxious as fuck.

I didn’t know how shit was going to go, and I just prayed the nigga didn’t make me wanna haul off and knock his ass out.

Everyone was now seated in the den since it was the biggest room in the house and could therefore accommodate everybody without being too close. There needed to be clear space between us and them, especially when you had niggas with tempers like Khari and Cemone.

Banks was with Asif for the moment. Just in case shit got hot, she wouldn’t be in attendance.

“Hello.” Sharon greeted the room as she walked in, arm in arm with Devante, being led by Prime. In a sense, he was the middleman, so we felt it best he go answer the door when them niggas pulled up.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Sharon?” My mama smiled, and she nodded.

“Yes, Sharon.”

“Y’all can have a seat right there. We’ll stay over here for right now,” Prime explained, and the couple descended onto the big ass love seat.

“For starters, Kyle told me the truth about everything and confirmed what you guys said at the church.” Sharon simpered as if that were a good thing, and I guess it was. “Um, we’ve decided to stay together, and he will continue to go to counseling for his… struggles.” She tightened her grip on his arm.

If it were a different circumstance, I would’ve laughed at the way Prime’s brows hiked at that announcement.

“So why now? ’Cause just a couple years ago, you was active,” Shakur said.

“That was a onetime incident after years of not doing anything. Just like with your mother. I was faithful to Lisara for the better part of our marriage. I didn’t start to stray until shortly before she… caught me,” he replied, and by Shakur’s facial expression, he didn’t believe the shit. “And we hadn’t been intimate, really, because you couldn’t get pregnant—or so we thought—and we agreed there was no need.” He focused his attention on my mama, who only nodded very slightly.

“Go on, honey.” Sharon nudged him.

Devante peered down at the floor for a beat then picked his head up to look at us all, saying, “I want to apologize for what I caused and what I did. I got it in my head that I wasn’t needed anymore and that I needed to disassociate from my former life in order to make a living and be successful. So that’s what I did.” He chuckled mirthlessly, adding, “And you all hated me, especially Khari. I felt like it was better for the both of us, especially since you had Mr. St. Thomas.”

“Having me don’t mean you ain’t supposed to be a father. I was to be supplemental, not take ya place, nigga,” Prime stated.

“That’s true.” Devante agreed, nodding. “I was in survival mode then and had tunnel vision on getting back into preaching and having that family image that’s needed to be successful.”

“You mean you was only in survival mode for ya self because a real man in survival mode is making sure his kids is good. It don’t matter how sad, downtrodden, or broke that nigga is.” Khari spoke up.

We all commented to agree while nodding.

“You’re right, Khari.” Devante exhaled. “My goal here is to hopefully have some relationship with all of you boys. I don’t expect to be looked at as a father, but just something.”

“Mighty convenient.” Cemone laughed. “Now that we don’t need shit from you, you ready to make amends, huh?” He stood up, shaking his head. “I don’t even know why I came to this shit.”

“Baby, sit down,” Mama said, wearing a worried look.

“I’m good.” Cemone bent down to kiss her cheek, slapped hands with us, then Prime, before leaving.

It got quiet due to how awkward this shit was, but Shakur soon rose to his feet as well.

“Yeah, I’m out too. Wasn’t too long ago you felt what you did was cool, so I ain’t going for this shit right here.” Shakur left the den as Cemone had done.

“Well, aight.” Khari stood, then so did Lequay and Bashar, kissing our mama, slapping hands with me, and heading for the mouth of the den to exit.

“And that’s why even though Khari was the only one who voiced his disdain for me, I didn’t even try with the rest of you. You guys have always let him brainwash you,” Devante threw out, clearly irritated that nobody was going for his shit.

“Nah, nigga, only person brainwashed is the woman sitting next to you.” Looking to Sharon and softening his features, Bashar said, “No offense, love, but you gotta see through the bullshit.”

“Figures you don’t know shit about us, which is crazy ’cause you was in a nigga’s life daily for fifteen years.” Lequay shook his head. “But how shit has been, we gon’ keep it that way.”

Nobody had a rebuttal as my brothers left the room. Now it was only me, my mama, Prime, then Devante and Sharon.

My paternal grandparents, Devante’s parents, opted not to come since when they tried to contact him recently, he’d made it clear he wasn’t fucking with them still.

After letting the silence linger for a bit, everybody clearly speechless, I said, “It’s not about being brainwashed, my nigga. It’s about everybody recognizing when a person is on bullshit. If us all agreeing that you only trying to be cool to convince ya wife that you a good nigga so you can keep ya preaching career is following, then so be it.” Looking to Sharon, I said, “I hope this shit works out for you, love, I do. But he selfish. Any man that would put you and my mother then his nine children in this situation don’t give a fuck about nobody.”

I kissed my mother, hugged Prime, and then stepped out of the den. Hearing my mama’s voice made me stay nearby though.

“I get you want forgiveness, Dev—Kyle, but it’s going to take more than you showing up almost two decades later asking. If you want a relationship with them, truly, you’re going to have to put in the work. You’re also going to have to take whatever they decide to give you.”

“Exactly. And ya sons are close as fuck, which I’m sure you can remember. It may seem like some follow the leader shit, but it’s not. Just when it come to certain shit, they have similar morals and thoughts. No point in repeating the same shit their brother has already said. Khari felt like this was pointless and wanted to leave. So did Lequay and Bashar. It’s simple. Getting mad, though, ain’t gon’ help. And they not little boys no more; them is grown ass men, so I would chill out on the disrespect.”

Shit, Khari had beat that nigga’s ass before he was a grown man.

Devante folded like he always did for Prime, and I just walked off, not interested in hearing his explanations and excuses.

About two hours later, everyone was gone except me, so I went to find my mama in her woman equivalent of a man cave.

“I didn’t know you were still here.” She smiled softly as she watched me come sit beside her.

“I am.”

“How are you? I know that was a lot.”

“It was.” I nodded. “You believe him?”

She looked off for a moment, then said, “I don’t know. He doesn’t have the greatest track record, and I think he only wants to mend the fences because she wants him to.”

“Same.” I sighed. “Something else I want to tell you though.”

“Kabrina is pregnant?” She grinned.

“Nah, not yet. At least I don’t think so. I’m hoping to have a real wedding, honeymoon, and all that shit before she gets pregnant. But I wouldn’t be mad.”

“That’s sweet.” She kissed my face. “All of you are sweet. I’m proud of you guys and the fact that I don’t have any fuck boy sons.”

“Was worried about Khari for a bit though, huh?” I half joked, and she snickered.

“Surprisingly… no. I always knew he would pull it together; I just wanted him to do it before someone killed him or he went to prison. But Khari was my first baby. We spent a lot of time together and kind of grew up together, so I know who he is at the core, and he was always sweet, loving, and protective like the big brother he is.”

“That’s true.” I affirmed. “But nah, you remember the show runner Tamira?”

“Not really.”

“Older lady you met when you visited me on set couple seasons ago.” I searched her face as she scrunched it, trying to remember.

“Oh, okay, yes. What happened to her? I saw what she said about you, and I was caught off guard because she was acting like she was a teacher and you were her favorite student when we met.”

“Yeah.” I looked off momentarily. “That’s because we were sleeping together.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Nah, not like that. She gave me my role on Dough Boyz in exchange for sex. And over the years, we continued to have sex so she wouldn’t blackball me or take me off the show or worse.”

I watched my mother’s face switch to one of anger.

“You wait until I see that bitch.”

“You won’t see her, Ma.” I chuckled, hugging her into my side. “But I wanted you to know we found others she did it to, a nigga as young as fifteen, and we ’bout to tell the world about her since she tried to maim my character.”

“Good. But I still think I can find her and beat her ass.”

“Maybe so, but choose the right time. I don’t need you fighting while I’m accepting an Oscar or nothing like that.”

She laughed as she lay on my chest as we rested on the couch.

“I will do my best.”

“I just want you to relax and enjoy ya life with yo’ husband. You deserve it,” I expressed, and she nodded, the side of her face brushing my chest as she did it. “I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too.” She picked her head up to kiss my face before lying back down on my chest.

* * *

Two weeks later…

“Updates, huh?” I took a deep breath as I sat across from Audrey.

My claims about Tamira, accompanied by the other actors we’d found, had gone out about a week ago. It blew up like we expected, and, of course, Tamira responded claiming the shit was a lie. That wasn’t the best idea, though, because muthafuckas started dropping receipts, and the biggest bombshell of all was her own husband talking shit.

I guess the nigga thought he was special, so when he found out Tamira not only had a habit of fucking on younger men but was still doing the shit, he decided to speak out. Now, her ass was on mute, and the weather forecast for her career was a fucking storm for sure.

“Updates.” Audrey bobbed her head to confirm. “So due to the stuff with Tamira and the murder suicide of AJ and Zosia, the network doesn’t even want the season you guys have just filmed.”

“Worked for nothing.” I feigned sadness. I mean, I was fucked up about Dough Boyz since that was my first real experience of being a for real actor. But the shit had become too toxic, and I was ready to move on from that shit.

And as promised, Asif made it look like Zosia went crazy and took her husband out. I wasn’t sure how he got shit to look the way he did, but that was why it was on him to take care of the shit. As for their son, from what I knew, AJ’s estranged parents had taken him in and would in a sense share custody with Zosia’s mother.

The latter was advocating for her daughter, claiming this wasn’t something she would do, but Zosia’s constant lives with her ass looking unhinged as fuck as more time went on didn’t help her mother’s case one fucking bit.

“Worked for nothing,” she repeated. “But the good thing is your character is no longer in question because the heat is on Tamira. You start filming as Wraith next week, so get excited.”

“I am. I just hate that I gotta work out so fucking much and gotta eat healthy when I cut,” I huffed. To play Wraith in the Night Walker series, I needed to bulk up then cut so I could be extra fucking chiseled. It wasn’t how I preferred to look, but I had to get paid.

“I know.” Audrey laughed. “But just don’t buy the bad shit, Unique.”

“I try not to, but my wife is making a point to cook every fucking thing in my sister-in-law’s cookbook, and it’s hard to resist.” I stood.

Audrey tossed her head back to guffaw before she rose to her feet to hug me.

On the drive home, I kept thinking about the way Dough Boyz had ended. The story wasn’t complete at all, and I knew the fans of the show would be disappointed.

The shit was still heavy on my mind as I showered, ate dinner with my baby, and even lay in the bed with her.

“I was thinking of trying to buy the rights to Dough Boyz and wrapping shit up in a movie,” I said randomly as Kabrina and I watched TV in our bedroom.

Looking up at me, she said, “That’s a great idea, but you don’t have AJ or Ramonté.”

“I know. I’d need to hire a good ass scriptwriter to pull the shit off. I just don’t wanna leave muthafuckas hanging.”

“I get it. Well, since I now have experience doing on-set makeup, I would be willing to do that for free.”

I smiled, pressing my chin to my chest to look down into her hazel eyes. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” She reached up to caress my face and beard.

“I’m happy as fuck cupid shot my ass. I’d been running from that nigga for a minute.”

Kabrina kissed me as she giggled. “Now look at you, happier than you’ve ever been.”

“I am.” I bobbed my head. “I am.”