Page 163 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

“I-It’s okay, Richard,” Fiorella stammers, and tries to walk off, but I bring her back to me, and opt to walk her inside myself.

G glares at me as we slowly pass him. His eyes flit to where my hand is, his tongue passing over his teeth, but his feet stay rooted in the ground.

“I’ll see you soon and bring that for you,” I say, loud enough for G to hear, before I close her wooden and security door for her.

G’s on me before I can even turn, but I still reach out and grab his wrist. He freezes, his eyes comically wide as I cackle.

Leaning in, I whisper, “You know with a simple flick I can end all yo culinary dreams, Guiliano.”

“Why the fuck you got my mama, nigga? Huh?” He grits, his teeth clenched trying to stay as still as possible. He’s rumored to be on track to getting a Michelin star this year. A shattered wrist would certainly hinder that shit.

“You niggas sicced some Babies on me and my lady two weeks ago after Reem’s wedding. I just thought that meant it was no rules. I’on abide by them anyway, but it’s really on and cracking now.”

“Ain’t no one–”

I squeeze his wrist, just a little more, to kill the lie on his tongue. “You know what type of time I’m on, and you know how I get about liars. I’m the only muthafucka ‘round here who can lie about some shit. Now, I was gon’ send ya mama to where you was tryna send Snow, but I’ve had a change of heart… just like I won’t end your weak ass cooking career.”

My other hand grips his elbow, and I jerk him closer to me. He’s shaking, and I feed off his fear. G is as sadistic as his brother, and his sick ass mind is part of the reason Foe Dub has the rep we do.

But again, like Slime, while I would rather not make these niggas enemies, if they really ‘bout it, then it’s nothing for me. Niggas is bored anyway.

“Tell ya brother to stand the fuck down. That lady in there pray for her sons every day. Don’t make me show her them shits is in vain.”

He not listening to me, though. And my shoulder begins to throb, even though I wore a damn sling for the two weeks like they told me to.

Muthafuckas can’t even have a conversation like adults. Niggas ain’t even asked one question about the pussy Mars came out of. Niggas jumped straight into wanting to jump me, like damn. I wasn’t even out the Marines when a lot of this shit was happening. But common sense clearly isn’t common among my niggas.

Letting go of his wrist, I grab his upper arm instead. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I twist both my arms, and yank his shoulder out of its socket. He cries out, just as I push him to the grass.

“I mean it, G. Tell yo brother to stand down. I’m not finna spare yo mama twice.”

It’s tempting, but I don’t kick him as I step over him, and start a nice morning stroll to my whip, two blocks over. It really is a beautiful morning. Even my shoulder stops hurting, like all the pain transferred to G.

I’m feeling so good, I break out into a light jog.

Wyn

“I should cut my locs, huh Twin? Be on some grown man shit?” Red turns from the mirror to peer at me. He’s tied his tie around his head like a bandana, letting the tongue hang to the side. His dress shirt is unbuttoned all the way, showing off his tattoos, but somehow, his deconstructed suit look works for him, even the forces with GPE spraypainted in gold on the sides.

We’re in one of the back bathrooms in Gerinomo Land. The gallery is quickly filling with guests who came for Cochise’s album listening party. The dress code is black tie, even if we’re in the G$ clubhouse, and from what I saw on the cameras, more people adhered to it than I thought would.

The show hasn’t started yet. The guys are in the back, watching the cameras, ragging on Cochise about how uptight he’ll be once he marries his fiancée and takes over. Red needed to use the restroom, and for whatever reason, he needs me to help him. But I go, so that the guys can drink and smoke without feeling guilty or leaving. Besides, I’m starting to see Red as my twin, too.

“You can be a grown man with locs. My friend Turkey didn’t start growing his until after he was grown.”

“Yeah, but I been having mine. Mommy ain’t know what to do with nappy hair, so she locked mine and Trin’s shit up. She ended up cutting hers off and growing out her hair, but I kept mine. I can’t find no one to retwist them, and since ya nigga don’t want me getting in between ya legs–”

“Shut up,” I hiss, kicking at him. He dodges me, and turns back around to the mirror. “That’s incest!” I screech.

He grins at me through the mirror. “So you finally claiming me as ya brother, huh? Knew I’d wear you down. Is Luney cuz coming tonight? Grime had us all weak at how he showed up to yo photo shoot last week.”

My cheeks heat, and on impulse, I check to see the numbers on my new video.

While my first single, “Back Home” with Grime, is going up on the charts, I dropped a single with just me, “Feenin’.” I thought it was a cute play on words, and a way to showcase all my flows. We shot a video for it, and Dori held a casting call for my love interest. We picked one and all, just for Rico to trip out, then show up to the shoot to play the role.

All in the video, you see his LUNEY chain shining, even if the camera wasn’t focused on him. I’m sure my homegirl Reina did that on purpose when she filled in for the director, but either way, I’m at two million views and counting in just three days, and the public is officially hype for my album.

“So you can press him? No. I’ll see him after.”