Page 123 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

Pooh snorts as we watch Nan screw up her face.

“Yeah, you my daughter all right. Never wanting a handout. Fine. Go and wash your teeth. Can smell the tart from here.”

I blow my breath at her and run off to my bathroom, my smile damn near permanent as I laugh.

Rico

A week and a half straight of arnica, icing my face, and some tea blend Miele swears by, and my black eyes are almost completely gone. The tea also cleaned out my entire digestive track, and I haven’t seen my Snow in just as many days because of it.

But this is what she wanted. Space and opportunity to chase her dreams. And here I am, trying to prove to her and myself that I’m mature enough to not keep her hidden away where only I have access to her. So I let her be, even if I’m the first person in her likes and comments, or the first person in her Lives. I don’t say shit when that young nigga with the locs be hanging onto her every word, or when nosy ass fans ask her about Cochise. I play it cool. I give her feedback on her songs. I laugh at her socially inappropriate jokes.

I even blocked every bitch who throws pussy at me within a hundred mile radius. It wasn’t so bad being abstinent. After my dick healed, the urges were gone.

Then I went and had sex with Snow.

And then, we kept fucking. Over and over again. And now I’m addicted. To her touch, her scent, her pussy. Her stupid jokes and her pure heart. My Snow is so pure. I can’t help but want to corrupt her, but I never succeed. That’s exactly why I need her close to me, so that no one else tries.

The thinnest line between love and hate exists between us. It’s too easy for all these overwhelming feelings to transform into the overwhelming need to snuff her out. She’s too good for this world. Too good for the people around her. Too good for me.

And yet, she chooses me anyway. Never asks where I am, even now that she knows what I’m capable of. Not even a shared location request. Just unreleased music, skits that somehow fit our story, and selfies of her wearing a chain that matches my mother’s, along with her bracelet gifted by Pooh.

I wonder how our story would have played out had I brought her home as a girlfriend. Would Ma had loved her? Would Snow had given her some will to live? Would she have taken her and Haze in?

Or would she have scared her away? She didn’t love me less than Fredo, not intentionally. I was just the oldest, the one set to take over the legacy Nan and Pooh built. It was no secret Ma despised Pooh’s occupation, so would she have tried to convince Snow to leave me? Would Snow have listened?

In the recesses of my mind, I can admit that was another reason on the list of why she was my best kept secret. It would have been just my luck that Nan and Ma rejected her, or convinced her she was better off without me. Kilo and them were plotting fasho, but family shit is always more insidious and complicated.

I’m inclined to believe that our timing is right in the present, even if almost everything else has blown up in my face. Yes, Snow has a year–eleven months now, to make some shit shake. But titles and arbitrary details like that don’t mean shit to me; Snow has been mine since I first saw her on MyRoom. But I understand where she’s coming from. The need to distinguish herself from all the labels she’s been given, that she’s given herself. It’s the same driving force that has me trying to put thoughts into words and say them. The same force that keeps me building a life without my other half, without also losing that part of my identity. I get it.

And while my Snow builds her life that she can be proud of, I can try and clean up the pile of bullshit we’ve both accumulated while we denied ourselves for over a decade.

I breeze into the executive boardroom at Park & Wyatt. It’s the top of the year, which means the Board of Directors for the Second Chance Foundation is meeting to discuss whose lives we save with all the illegal money we’ve all gained.

Rowan Wyatt’s little sister Tamera had been trying to stage a coup for the past year, and yet, it was when she tried to take the homie Reem from up under YT that she was foiled. Roe is just as known for being heartless as he is for being all about his family, so I’m curious to know what exactly he’ll do to her. She is his half-sister, after all, but whatever he decides, I doubt she’s still in the city.

He pulled me away from Snow at Titan Farrell’s daughter’s birthday party to update me, since he doesn’t believe in phones, and I’d been away. When I outright asked him about her fate, all he did was grin.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” I say, taking a seat by the back windows. I glance at Set, who is sitting on the opposite side of the table. “And ladies.”

“The fuck is going on with y’all?” Roe asks, looking between me and Set.

Set just smirks. “Niggas is weak and immature, Dub. The way he acting, you’d think I took his bitch.” He taps his chin like the bitch nigga is in thought, before pointing in the air. “Oh, wait!”

“Ay, meeting adjourned. Ingram and Randall, get the fuck out now,” Roe thunders. The other two board members scurry out, and as soon as the door closes, I’m out my seat.

“So what the fuck was said, bitch?” I ask, my gun loose at my waist. “Who got took?”

Roe bangs both fists on the table and shoots out of his seat. “I just know you niggas not beefing over pussy!”

“Nah, niggas in they feelings ‘cause I don’t braid his hair and cry with ‘em about what the fuck I got going on. Only reason you mad is ‘cause you had no idea a muthafucka could pull the wool over your eyes. Not me, and especially not Snow.”

“So, what? He took your bitch or something?”

“Neva that,” I say, taking my seat. “My bitch was on some get back and niggas just salty they got egg on they face.”

Set nods his head and turns to Roe. I push the chair so hard I fall over, rolling until I’m on my knees.

Barely missing the three shots Set tries to send into my chest.