Page 130 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

The corner of my lips pull as I exit the room. “Perhaps.”

Wyn

I’m trying to keep a straight face, but it’s not working.

Especially when Red keeps starting over his slated single over and over to record different videos to promote it. His eyes are squinted, and he keeps licking his lips, trying to appear sexy.

Everyone got pulled into a meeting, and ordered us to stay here. The other artists scheduled for sessions got to go home, but not us. Maybe because we aren’t moonlighting as actual crips, but the way Red throws around “cuh” I think I may be mistaken. He won’t tell me either way. He’s serious about me knowing only good things about him, even if I’ve heard him speak what sounded like Russian on the phone earlier.

I glance over at his phone to see he’s now switched to Live, and grin. It’s finally my time to shine.

“Tronzel Levi Rhodes! Get yo ass off’a Live!” I bark. His phone goes unsteady in his hands, but he quickly recovers, turning off his phone before glaring at me.

“Who… the fuck gave you that classified info, cuz?!” He seethes, his chair gliding down the dashboard to me.

I shrug. “You shouldn’t leave your after summary papers lying around. Oh; how does one get a q-tip stuck in their ear, Tronzel?”

His face twists up more, and I can’t hold in my laughter.

“And how did your parents even come up with that?!”

He rolls his eyes like the child he is. “My mommy combined ‘the two most handsome men she knew’... my daddy and Denzel Washington.” He slaps the sides of his head before sighing. “C’mon, Twin. Don’t be like them girls who wanna always say somebody government. Nobody calls me that bullshit but my mommy. Even my pops calls me Red.”

“But Tripp calls you Tron.”

Red’s face softens. “He ever tell you about our fucked up family?”

“A little,” I mumble, trying hard as hell to conjure up something besides the fact I’m a ginger like Red and their deceased sister. The one conversation we did have is blocked out by watching him get shot right in front of me, and I feel a headache coming trying to remember.

“Aight, well, you can’t say shit. But, Tripp, you know, that usually means you the third. My pops is Tron Junior, so when Tripp’s mommy got pregnant–”

“Why do you keep saying mommy?” I giggle.

“Focus, Twin! It’s a habit. Anyway, Pops would always call him Tripp, ‘cause he’d be Tron the third. But, she wasn’t fuckin’ with leaving the First Nations, so they broke up. Tripp’s moms didn’t know Tripp was a nickname, so on the birth certificate, she just put Tripp. Pops was pissed, but he never changed it. So like, I think Tripp be calling me Tron and shit ‘cause we both Trons. He Tron the third, and I’m Tronzel.”

“Aww, brotherly love.” I lean over and pinch his cheek, jumping back when he snaps his teeth at my fingers.

“He aight… it’s funny though. My mommy hardbody as fuck. ‘Specially was with Trin. They butted heads so bad. She hard up with Pops, too. But any time Tripp came, she became soft as fuck. First time I seen it, I was shocked. Nigga ain’t even wanna be there, but whatever he wanted, Mommy bent over backwards to get it. You know how special you gotta be to get a six-two white lady who grew up in a trailer park to be nice?! Her foot damn near live in my ass! She the one who called up Tripp, but I ain’t gon’ lie, I been having the time of my life in exile.”

Red lugs his heavy shoes onto the dash and leans back, but his chair gives way and he falls. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard, and my lungs constrict from lack of air.

“What… is… wrong… with you,” I choke out. He doesn’t make it any better, rolling around the floor like he’s building a lawsuit.

My phone vibrates on the dashboard, finally giving me a reprieve. But when I see the name, the air leaves my lungs once again.

Auty and I never stay mad at each other for long. She calms down and cries and then she reiterates whatever she meant to say without cursing me out.

But I’ve never gone as hard as I did at Peanut’s house. And while finally putting words to how I’ve been feeling did feel good, I don’t like adding more onto the burden her selfish ass carries every day.

I finally grab my phone and swipe to read the message. Perplexed that she’s outside, my eyes roll when I remember I never stopped sharing my location with her.

She probably is outside of the building.

“Uh oh. What’s wrong Twin?”

“Our other twin is here to hash things out,” I sigh, standing up. “I’ma go get her and we’ll be in the conference room on the first floor. Text me if anyone hits you back.”

Red’s face twists. “Man, aight. But don’t let her talk to you all crazy, or she gon’ have to see me. I don’t play ‘bout my Twin.”