Page 108 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

I roll my eyes like she can see me. Brina and I have made great strides to be friends once she found out I wasn’t checking for Set. However, sometimes, like now, I’m reminded that she will always be Auty’s friend first.

Like everyone else.

“Why should I have had to say anything, Brina? Auty and I grew up in the same house, and even shared the same room for years. She’s a smart girl; a whole RN. Why couldn’t she connect the dots on why we were able to get away with so much stuff? Why, for months at a time, our parents were nowhere to be found? Why I was giving her lunch money, paying for her dance classes, her hair to be done, her phone bill? Instead of that envy in her heart thinking it’s because I had it like that, why couldn’t she look deeper into why, at fourteen, we had so much autonomy? I could have told her back then. To be honest, I should have. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Auty chooses what she wants to see, even back then. Even if Pops sat her down and told her I gave him her downpayment on her apartment, or Turkey told her I’m the one who gave him money to go to the auction to get their first cars, she wouldn’t even believe me. Like you don’t believe me now.

“When you talk to her today, and you tell her what I said, make sure you really listen to her replies, and you ask yourself again why I never said anything. Shad and YT are here; I’ll hit you later.”

“Okay, Wyn,” she says, sympathy drowning in her voice.

Hanging up my phone, I look up to see Shad and YT also looking at me with pity etched on their faces.

A dull ache spreads on the side of my head and I close my eyes.

“If you want me to stay sober, stop looking at me like that.”

“Oh, Wyn,” YT whines, rushing up to me. She grabs my hands and pulls me to the couch, making me sit down. “How are you? Really? I’d never seen Autumn that angry! Do you want me to talk some sense into her?” YT’s bottom lip wobbles as her thumbs massage the tops of my hands.

Shad sits in the adjacent armchair, laptop in his lap. “That’s not even one of the worst fights, YT. They’ll be back cool in a week.”

YT’s face scrunches, before she turns back to me. “Sisters shouldn’t speak to one another like that, Wyn,” she whispers. “I would cut out my own tongue if I ever spoke to Baby Girl that way! And sew her lips together if she ever called me a bitch!”

“Believe it or not, that was the first time I ever said anything back,” I chuckle, but she doesn’t laugh with me, and I feel even more pathetic.

Shad clears his throat. He knows Auty is a sore subject for me, especially after one of our blowouts.

“Before we begin discussing venues for your show, I have a few things to say.”

Knowing I won’t survive both of the Washington brothers being beefed out with me, I give him the floor.

Nodding, he continues. “My one and only priority, as your friend, is making sure you maintain your sobriety. I’ll give Rico credit where it’s due; he took you in and gave you the space and opportunity to get yourself together, so he will always have my respect for that. And if you say that… being with him makes you happy, and he’s not cheating on you, beating you up, or having you any types of messed up, or around any substances you can abuse, then I will support you and this bullshit ass relationship.”

“Shaddy,” YT admonishes, but Shad keeps his gaze on me.

“And, after speaking with Nutty and Reem at length last night, I see Rico’s perspective on how Fredo passed and the aftermath, and will even give him a pass on threatening my life. Multiple times.”

YT drops her face to her hands and shakes it slowly, groaning.

“But he gets one pass, Wyn. One. That’s my brother, and I love him to death. But if he does you wrong, or threatens my life again, I will beat him. To death. With my bare hands.”

“Shad–”

“And I put that on my Nana. Now, let’s talk venues.” He pulls out his glasses, wiping them with his shirt before putting them on and still squinting at his screen.

I share a glance at YT, but she just sits up and smiles. “Personally, I like seeing you and Rico together. I’d also be right there with Shaddy, caving his head in with my boots if he ever thought about hurting you.”

My hands give hers a gentle squeeze before I stand. “Yeah, I know. I’ma go brush my teeth.”

So apparently, I have a bit of a reputation.

Shad and YT try to censor it, but with each venue passing on me, and each pitying glance, I get the gist. I’m a junkie, a powderhead, a has-been, and no one wants to bet on a has-been that seems to not have the backing of their label.

We’ve been at it for six hours. All of us calling around, emailing, DMing–since that’s the new professional thing now–and either everyone is magically booked up, or they’re rude enough to flat out say no.

I’m on my third piece of menthol gum, courtesy of Shad. The urge to smoke is growing by the hour. What the fuck am I gonna do if I get dropped from my label? Sheisty loves me–they all do, but this is business, not personal. And there’s a reason he’s in charge and not Grime.

I chuck my phone across the plush carpet and cradle my head in my hands. “I’m fucking washed. I might as well go get a job at Fatboys.”

Shad begins to say something but heavy knocks sound off on the door, interrupting him. My head pops up; I don’t need a confrontation between Rico and Shad right now.