Page 115 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

I turn my head and try to blink back the pressure building in my eyes. My chest expands as I take the biggest breath I can.

“X wasn’t your pops; he was your brother. His own pops raped Trina with two of his friends, including the nigga Khaliq killed. X and his girl killed him and the other nigga. X and Trina was never like that, but I guess X claimed you so you and Trina would be straight while he was on the inside, and Trina went with it so you’d think he was your pops and you wouldn’t ask questions, but mostly everyone who knew the real is dead anyway…” The words rush out, low and fast, before tapering off. I almost can’t believe that came from my mouth.

It’s quiet for a while. I don’t even hear my bro breathing.

I turn toward him, and he’s staring at his lap, fists clenched.

“Reem–”

“I’m straight. I get why you ain’t say shit.” He exits the car, the door closing too soft for how stiff he walks away from my whip.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” I punch my steering wheel over and over, but the fire in my chest keeps growing in tandem with the dread in my gut.

Pulling out my phone, I go to my text thread with Wyn. Her excitement is bleeding through the messages; my baby has a show tonight. Briefly, I think about calling Haze and Turk, but those bridges are burned to a crisp. Besides, they wouldn’t understand. They’d do what anyone else would do; ask me what I know about them. Ask me to open the floodgates even more, and pour out the secrets that would tear apart their already fragile reality and force them to confront all the shit they’ve been running from.

The reckoning is coming, and yet, I can’t bring myself to do any more damage than I already have. I can’t force them in front of a mirror.

You know who you should call.

I look up, and Fredo’s smirking in the front seat.

“Would you have said it? Of course you would have. You never lied foreal,” I spit in anger, though Fred’s not offended at all.

“I’ve lied,” he shrugs. “I’ve lied a lot. Everyone lies, Rick. Most of the time they lie for themselves. You be lying to protect other people. Maybe that’s where you’re going wrong. Seems like you the only one shit be going wrong for.”

My shoulders drop as my thumb scrolls to a contact I never thought I’d use again. But lowkey, it’s his fault, so I dial him up so he could maybe do what the fuck he’s supposed to as my father.

“This a butt dial?” his smoky voice cracks into the receiver. It catches me off guard, so I laugh a couple times, and I can practically hear him grinning.

My mouth straightens as I remember why I even called him in the first place, and I clear my throat. “I told Reem… about who his real dad is.”

“Okay,” he drawls, after a moment of silence.

“Well, nigga?” I snap, frustration shooting through my chest. “Was I wrong to do that? That ain’t some shit you come back from.”

“Well, hijo. Why did you choose tonight of all nights to tell him?” he replies, calm and even as fuck.

I swipe the bar in my tongue across my lip. “He asked. He got all philosophical about secrets and asked me if there was anything I knew that he should know.”

“And you felt he should know that?”

“Yes! The fuck?! Reem has hated X all his life based off a lie. A lie that right now, makes no fuckin’ sense. It don’t matter how he came about, that nigga is the most solid nigga, and would cut off his hands before he’d ever hurt a woman. Don’t even know why you’d trust me to keep some shit like that to myself–”

“I didn’t do that, hijo.”

“Then why the fuck did you even tell me?!” I pinch my tear ducts to reign in my temper. One of my few weaknesses is how calm this nigga can be with me. Just once, I wish he’d fly off the handle like I do.

“Rick… X trusted me to keep that secret, for Trina. Trina trusted me to keep that secret because she never wanted Reem to hate himself for something he had no control over. I trusted you with that secret because you are flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. I expected you to do what you felt was right, whether it was keeping it, or telling Reem. X and Trina aren’t your brothers–Reem is. He asked you, and you preserved y’alls trust by disclosing. It’s a lot to digest, but he will digest it, and will be better for it.”

A choppy breath leaves my mouth as I absorb his words. My voice is small when I ask, “I wasn’t wrong?”

“No,” he sighs, figuring out what I need to hear. “You weren’t wrong, hijo.”

The passenger side door opens and a young nigga I’ve seen around climbs into my whip. I say my goodbyes with Pooh and stare at this nigga, my hand resting on my shit that’s between my seat at the door.

“Waddup, Luney?” He grins, his chipped front tooth shining under the streetlamp.

“Waddup.” I’m so fucked up, I ain’t even lock the doors. Though, I never needed to in the Birch. But the way he’s grinning, I’m thinking I was wrong in assuming that.