Page 122 of Stay Dangerous

It’s one thing to see and hear about Wynter and the company she kept. It was quite another to know my day one was pushing up on her.

And she was encouraging it.

Fredo sighed. “You never told Set. You know he wouldn’t fuck with her if he knew y’all had history. You too prideful, but I think–”

“Don’t tell him shit about my business, Fred. She wanna be a flip, let her. He’ll find out on his own.”

“See, you say that, but I know you. I was in the car with you when you put a hot one in Trippy’s chest. So I wanna tell my nigga who she used to fuck with in case you learn some more skills down in Basic Training and get some ideas.”

My lips spread into a sinister smile, spreading more when Fredo met my gaze head on.

The only person in the world who got me. Because he was me, and I was him.

“Set’s our day one.”

“That don’t mean shit to you, and you know it. Promise me. Promise you won’t hurt him, nor anyone he loves, nor his blood or chosen family, Rick. No matter what. For the rest of your life.”

I blinked twice before I said, “Fine.”

“Put it on Ma.”

“Damn,” I chuckled. “I said fine, nigga. But okay. I put it on Ma, I won’t harm Set, nor anyone he loves or claims. Physically, nor mentally. Now, put it on Ma you nor Ty-Ty will ever bring up anything to do with me and that ice cold bitch.”

Fredo waved me off. “Ty-Ty don’t know shit besides y’all lil’ kiss that one time, and I’ll keep my mouth closed. Wyn needs someone looking out for her. Them west side niggas are one second away from doing football numbers. Maybe Set will be good for her.”

“Yeah, right. I’m going out.” I stood and saluted him.

“Don’t hurt her either, Rick!” he called out from his bed.

I stopped and turned, winking at my brother. “I can’t promise that.”

Wynter didn’t even know peace in her sleep. Her eyebrows were pinched, and she hugged her pillow tightly, her hands balled into fists.

Her room was much of the same, just that her sheets were leopard and black now. More clothes were everywhere, and bags of cash were poorly hidden underneath her bed and in the closet.

On her nightstand was weed and coke. A few empty bottles of Hennessy were lined up next to it.

Guess money wasn’t the only thing them niggas on the west side put her on.

When I shifted my gaze back to her, her eyes were open. Slowly, she sat up, keeping her gaze on me as she scooted as far as she could away from me.

We hadn’t been this close, with each other’s undivided attention, in years. Not since she told me she aborted my baby, and that she knew I’d fucked someone else.

I came here to threaten her. I came here to spew as much vitriol as I could, so she could feel like shit. She could be as low as she was for even thinking of entertaining my bro.

It didn’t matter if I told him about us or not. She knew, and yet she was all on this nigga. And she’d fuck him too, because that’s the type of bitch Wynter Snow was.

Her hand felt under her other pillow before she aimed a gun at me. Both hands, to steady it, as she rose to her knees.

“Get out.”

I took measured steps deeper into her room, watching her eyes fill with tears before they spilled over.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you, too,” I replied, placing a knee onto her bed.

“You’veruinedme,” she croaked, gasping when my chest touched the barrel of the gun.