Page 145 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

Peso Durand. I shot out his back windows after Ty-Ty lost to him at one of their underground fights.

Ty-Ty leads some young girl toward Haze and Patience on the other side of the section, while Milli, a young nigga who Ty-Ty’s granny has damn near adopted, comes to dap me up. Feeling eyes on me, I glance at Ty-Ty again, and the mug on him is something serious. Thankfully, the girls occupy him, and I pour up another shot to take with Milli.

This isn’t a good idea. Me and Snow didn’t really talk about if she expected me to abstain. It was something I thought about on my own. I already don’t smoke, and I rarely drink. But I’m also rarely out of my element. Rarely in the unknown. Especially about my niggas.

I drop to my seat as soon as the DJ announces Shad and Wyn. One of the bottle girls comes over, and I order a bottled water and some fries to soak up the liquor that won’t settle in my stomach.

“Damn,” I mumble to myself, though I can’t hear it over Shad blaring his own lyrics. When I get my food and water, I use the last of my energy to raise myself up to the top of the velvet booth of the section, so I can at least see my woman shine while I try to get it together.

Like every performance she does, she lights up the entire stage. Long ass nail pointing into the crowd as they yell her lyrics back to her. Swinging her hair from one shoulder to the other, walking back and forth.

Snow stops in front of a nigga, squats all the way down, and raps a lewd ass lyric about eating ass as she cups his jaw. He’s ready to marry her by the time she raises up, but her attention is already elsewhere.

Somehow, she finds me, and that same playful twitch of her lips I’ll never get used to forms briefly before she winks and continues her performance.

After doing the adlibs on two of Shad’s songs, she and Mace lead the club in singing happy birthday to him. Mace has the DJ play an old audio clip of Sean telling him happy birthday, and the big buff nigga is in tears by the time they leave the stage.

Feeling more sober, I climb down the booth and meet Snow at our section. She’s flanked by security, and judging by the pendants they both have on, I know they’re First Nations.

As soon as I'm close to her, she leans into me, her hands going to the back of my neck. My hands itch to cup the globes of her ass, but I refrain. It’s hard, giving a fuck about other people’s feelings, even Snow’s. But I guess that comes with this year hiatus that’s feeling like bullshit the more time I spend with her.

“How’d I do?” she yells into my ear, smacking that damn gum.

“Killed that shit, like always.”

I feel her smile on my neck, and all too soon she’s giving me space, looking around in case someone was watching. They haven’t announced that she and Cochise aren’t together anymore. Something about some politics on his side, and the last thing she needs is muthafuckas calling her a ho on top of waiting to see if she’ll relapse. We'd already slipped up at Gaia Farrell's birthday party, but luckily nothing came of it.

“Text me when you land.”

She nods, giving me one more of my smiles before going to say goodbye to Haze.

I scan the club, lowkey ready to leave myself, when I see someone across the floor. With her pink hair, she stands out in the crowd in her section. Styled close to her face, but she’s turned around, so I see the outline of the tattoo on the back of her neck. Her shirt is a scarf, tied in a tight knot on her small back, showing off that surgically tapered waist. And that impossibly fat ass.

Her brothers have fought so many niggas over that fat ass, since she’s had one since she was in grade school. Them Italian and Black genes mixed something crazy, and I’m sure most bitches in her age group use her picture as a reference pic in the doctor’s office, especially since she went overseas and added a BBL to it.

Gianna Jackson. Even if G and Slime weren’t plugged, she’d still be in here for free, she’s that known. Fat ass with the thighs that match aside, she’s beautiful, outgoing, and knows enough about football to make a living on sports bets.

The average Kenton nigga’s dream, until they realize who her big brothers are.

She’s closer to G than Slime, but only because Slime is overprotective. Fredo once slid with him to press Gianna’s old high school boyfriend. Whatever he said or did had him transferring out the district.

As soon as Snow is out of the building, I leave the section, blending in with the crowd on the dance floor. The whole city came out for Shad, and I’m knowing there’s still a line out the door, even though it’s after midnight.

Snow mentioned in passing she seen Slime at Titan Farrell’s daughter’s birthday party. She treated it like it wasn’t shit, but I knew better. I thought he’d make his move in front of me, not wait until Roe pulled me away.

I don’t know what to make of it. Yeah, I been avoiding the Birch, but I can’t tell what he wants, if he’s waiting to calm down to reach out, or if he’s way past letting bygones be bygones. If he’s fucking with me, like Set, or if this some shit I really should be worried about. Let Nutty tell it, I need to rein the lil’ nigga in.

But Nutty is always gonna be on my side, wrong or right. And besides Ty-Ty, the only nigga I do feel like I owe an explanation to is him.

But then I think, shit, I wasn’t the one fucking him. His beef should be with Ju, not me.

I make it across the club. Gianna’s facing the crowd, bobbing her head to the music as she nurses a water bottle herself. I’m sure it’s molly water. Ty-Ty started linking with her, and anyone besides Reem who he hangs with is more than likely on some shit.

I pull on her scarf shirt to get her attention. She looks down, scowling under her big sunglasses before she takes them off, ready to cuss me out.

Her face morphs once she recognizes me, and in a flash she’s squealing and hopping into my arms.

“Luney! You’re back!”