Page 81 of Stay Dangerous

“On my daddy’s side. He couldn’t convince my mom to stop working for the Nabahis, so he left her, got married, and had two more kids, including Trinity. She liked dumb ass niggas, too. Only, they ain’t have her in clinics; they had her in cars she had no business being in. Some slobs sprayed her boyfriend’s car, and she died last year.” He took out his phone and pressed the screen a few times, before turning it over to show me.

The picture was a little older. Trippy’s hairline was fuller. And the girl next to him, that barely went to his chest, was beautiful. They both had the same big smile, but that was the only thing they had in common.

She was a ginger, like me.

Not as many freckles, and hers were more faint, but she was bright, and her hair was the color of mud.

“Knowing you, now I know that ginger shit fasho means you more stubborn. But all that means if I’ma go harder protecting you, like I should have protected her. I’ma always come whenyou call, but I shouldn’t be the only one here, Wyn. Where the fuck is that nigga that was calling you Lady Luney?”

My face pinched more as I shrugged my shoulders. I really couldn’t answer his question, and that made me feel lower than low.

Pathetic, actually.

“Hear me, as a young nigga, Wyn. Young niggas don’t give a shit about nothing but themselves. At sixteen, all I gave a fuck about was Geronimo Street and getting pussy. It’s the same shit at twenty-three, only now I give a fuck about money, too. Niggas are selfish until they hit like thirty-five, cuz. That nigga out doing whatever he doing and you here, fucked up. It shouldn’t sit right witchu. You got too much going for you to be like them bitches you was with when I first met you, but I’m glad you had the right mind to get rid of the baby instead of having it.”

I licked my lips and nodded. That must have been how it would have felt to have an older brother. Someone to tell you the real unapologetically, so I absorbed everything he said.

A knock sounded on the door; my time was up. Gingerly, I got out of the bed, and Trippy helped steady me, before we slowly walked out of the room. He’d already picked up pain medication, and the nurse already told me they’d call with my results in a week, to make sure I was cleared.

I was ready to go home.

“I’m letting you know now, Pic is in the car. I told him not to say shit though.”

I nodded as I held onto him. PC and Trippy were a package deal, but at least he had enough decency to stay in the car.

I couldn’t handle them both looking disappointed at me.

Thankfully, the protesters were gone when we got onto the street.

“Could you take me to get some ice cream, too?” I squeaked, looking up at him.

He finally cracked a smile as he nodded. “Yeah, cuz. We can get–”

POP! POP! POP-POP! POP!

Trippy shook as red began to bloom in the middle of his white tee. A scream wrenched out of me as we both fell onto the sidewalk. Distantly, I heard tires screech and glass shatter, but I couldn’t look away from Trippy.

His eyes were unseeing. Blood coughed out of his mouth, droplets landing in his beard. I pushed onto the lone bullet wound, but blood just poured around my fingers.

A car pulled onto the sidewalk, and PC hopped out of the driver’s seat, opening the back.

“Get him in!” he yelled, his voice scratching.

Trippy was so big. Bigger than both of us, but we managed to get him in the back seat. I climbed on top of him to keep pressure, and PC drove off.

“What the fuck happened?!” he roared.

“I-I-I dunno! We were just walking and–”

“And niggas just decided to shoot up the abortion clinic?! Do that fuckin’ make sense, cuz?!”

There were protesters that morning, sure. But in California, they were more harmless than anything. Right?

It felt like it had been hours, but it probably was only ten minutes before we pulled into a warehouse in East Kenton.

A team of doctors opened the back doors, and put Trippy onto a gurney. I started with them, but PC grabbed my arm and pushed me into the door, crowding me.

“Let me beveryclear, Ice Princess. My nigga dies, and I kill you. My nigga don’t make a full recovery, then whatever’s wrong with him, will be wrong with you, too. And if I find out them niggas was aiming for you, then I’ma aim for you, too.” He leaned in, bearing his teeth. “And hit someone else.”