Page 19 of Collateral Love
He blinked. “Talking?”
“To people you don’t need to be talking to.”
“That’s crazy,” he said quickly. “I don’t talk.”
This Nigga was still lying.
I moved fast.
I grabbed him by the collar, slammed him against the metal wall hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. He gasped, eyes wide, fear finally honest.
“I don’t need you to lie,” I said quietly. “I need you to understand.”
Xavier shifted behind me. Said nothing.
“I ain’t said nothing to nobody,” Martin choked.
I let him drop.
He slid down the wall, coughing, hands up.
“I swear, Z?—”
I crouched in front of him, eye level now.
“You want out?” I asked.
He nodded frantically. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m done. I’ll leave town.”
I studied him.
“You really done?” I pressed.
“Yes,” he whispered.
I believed him. But there was only one way out of my crew.
I started by breaking his fingers.
He made sharp animal sounds. I took my time with it. I fuckin hated snitches. Let him feel every mistake individually. Let each lie cost him something small before I took anything big.
“Please,” he kept saying. “Z—please.”
I hated when Niggas begged using familiarity. Like the name alone was supposed to soften what they’d already fucked up.
“You talked,” I said calmly.
“No,” he sobbed. “I swear?—”
I pressed harder.
Bone gave way with a sound like snapping chalk.
He screamed.
Xavier stood a few feet back, arms crossed, face pale but steady. He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t look away either. I noticedthat. He was learning whether he wanted this life or just its benefits.
Martin slid halfway out of the chair, piss soaking through his jeans, breath hitching in ugly little gasps.
