Page 156 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

By the time the aspirin kicks in, Red is high as hell, and tells me I’m laying a verse on his new single immediately. Escaping into the booth to flee from that loud weed smell mixed with cologne, I oblige him, and try to push Set and his idle threats to the back of my mind.

Rico

Snow is beautiful. Not even just the outside, but the goodness inside of her radiates, making her that much more… just everything.

She’s on the dance floor, hyping up YT as she grinds on Reem. YT isn’t drinking, so she and Wyn have been joined at the hip since she concluded her father-daughter dance with Tre Young. Brina was YT’s matron of honor, but Wyn was her maid of honor, something I didn't realize until the rehearsal dinner yesterday.

Brina and YT are a far cry from the other homegirls Snow has had over the years. I doubt Wyn hung with some real killers, women who belong on a list. But they love her fiercely. Protect her as well. No drinks have been around her, and she hasn’t been near one of the open bars. In fact, she’s been on the dance floor for most of the reception, unable to get a breather, though I think she’s grateful for it.

I’m glad for her. Of course, a part of me feels like I should be her everything, but that’s not feasible. Snow needs homegirls to talk to when I’m annoying her, or when she wants to lament about how much she misses the friendship of niggas she’s fucked before.

I should have never promised Fredo that bullshit. Cochise is a nonfactor. But that gray-eyed nigga two stepping with Lala needs to be dealt with.

You so bullshit, Rick. I wish y’all would fight it out already.

I take a swig of my apple cider and scan the room again. Slime and G are here, sequestered on another part of the dance floor. We’ve steered clear of each other, except when I caught him glaring at me as YT walked down the aisle with her father.

This wedding is huge. Hundreds of Tre Young’s associates, their big ass family, and a who’s who of Northupton elite are here on YT’s side. Reem invited a who’s who of Kenton on his side. It’s a Black society wedding for real, so it’s been easy to avoid this nigga.

I guess watching Snow finally find the community she probably doesn’t even know she craved is getting to me. My bitch couldn’t be average on her worst day, and for so long, she was surrounded by bitches who could never compare nor compete. Even as she found a place in East Kenton, the only woman on her level happened to be a fellow junkie.

Now they’re both clean. And now, she’s been accepted by women who would never be intimidated by her light. Women who have shit going for themselves, who are also a little odd, so they get her. And even though me and Haze are in a weird place, seeing her join their lil’ circle, and the sisters act sisterly, got me standing up and downing my cider.

“Mars?”

My nephew looks up from Pooh’s phone. My niggas opted to leave their kids at home, but Reem all but told me that wasn’t an option with Mars. He wanted him in every photo, and he’s either been with Nan, Pam, or Katrina this whole time.

“Yes?”

“Come with me. I want you to meet someone.”

He nods and hands the phone back to Pooh before standing up. Pooh straightens up his dress shirt before trying to pinch him, getting a laugh out of him before he skips to me and puts his hand in mine.

He wanted plaits for the wedding, so after Snow dyed a few strands blond, she braided him up. It’s eerie sometimes, like looking into the past. And I bet Slime will feel the same way, so I decide I will enjoy this.

He’s at his designated table, on his phone. But I’ll give it to him, he turns his head sharply when I’m about ten feet from him. His scowl is murderous, and he’s on his feet in seconds.

Until his gaze drops, and he freezes on that spot.

Slime is certifiable, but underneath all the sadism is a nigga who used to be afraid of his own shadow. His pops never beat the kids, but he beat they mama so bad that when he turned up dead, I heard she wept tears of joy. The way they be acting, I don’t even think they know what went on in their own home.

He inherited that rage, though. I’m sure the only reason he hasn’t snapped my neck is because he’s making a run for mayor. Or maybe, like Set, politics has changed him, and he’s finally learned to enjoy the chase of the kill more than the actual act.

“I’d like you to meet a very special friend of your father, Mars.” I pull my nephew so that he’s standing in front of me. His head tilts all the way up, and I see his goofy smile from here. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure he’s about ready to pass out.

“You knew my Daddy?”

This nigga Slime is so stuck, all he can do is give a jerky nod. Mouth ajar. Eyes bloodshot. He’s prolly finna burst into tears right here.

Mars turns to me, concern filling his features. “Ricky, I think something’s wrong with him.”

“I told you, you look just like your dad, and sometimes that knocks people a little silly. What I tell you to do when that happens?”

Mars’s eyes light with excitement. He turns back to Slime, comically raises his foot, and stomps as hard as he can on Slime’s shoe. Slime grunts, and goes for Mars, but he runs off, cackling all the way back to Pooh.

“Now why the fuck would you tell him to do some shit like that?!” he grits, falling into his chair. I chuckle, taking the seat next to him.

“He was supposed to say a catch phrase but I think he forgot.”