Page 165 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

I place my phone on my stomach and eye Patience, who looks sheepish at least from being nosey.

“Sorry. Just… trying to change the subject. You guys are intense. And, uh, don’t tell Auty, but, I think you’re right.”

My arms fold, since my interest is piqued. While Rico taking up for me gets my panties wet, it’s a fine line between defending me and throwing Auty under the bus, which would actually get the First Nation Princess cussed out.

“I mean about her and Rico,” she corrects, reading my body language. “Royce thinks she’s sad about you guys’ parents, but I think she misses him.”

“Well, Pay, she’s doing that to herself. And yes… that was us in Belize.”

She grins, her cold hands wrapping around my bicep like her wife just did before.

“I’m really happy for you, Wynter. The way he knocked out Mr. Shaw! Girl. That was so hot! To be loved like that…” Patience interlocks her fingers by her head and wistfully looks away, making me snort.

“Once upon a time, your brother did the same thing for me,” I divulge.

That snaps Patience back to reality. She scrunches her face, unable to picture her overgrown brother being anything but a sweet angel baby.

“Cheese?! Punched someone out for you?! I refuse to believe it.”

I lean in and wink. “Believe it, Buttercup. Your brother has a lil’ temper on him, and has a thing about respect. I heard his fiancée is giving him a run for his money. I thought she’d be here.”

Patience’s eyes brighten. “What else have you heard?! Cheese won’t tell me anything, and all Daddy does is grumble under his breath. The guys haven’t met her. I thought she’d be here by now.” We look around us, but no one sticks out. I lock eyes with Dori, who is glued to Sheisty’s side. Her eyes turn pleading, but before I can even take a step toward her, Sheisty bends down and says something in her ear. He snaps for security, and they lead a reluctant Dori to the back, just as the lights dim, and the lead single from Cochise’s new album begins to play over the speakers.

I’m so proud of him. Cochise has always had his own unique flow, different from PC or the usual California sound in rap. His mixtapes have always gone viral, with some even used in movies and games, but this is his first and only cohesive album. The crowd is hype as he performs song after song, even though they don’t know the words of most of them. Patience is the loudest in VIP, cheering him on for an hour straight, while he slowly comes up out of his suit jacket, bow tie, and shirt.

His cane is nowhere in sight. There was a time doctors told him he’d be lucky to even be able to stand without assistance, and now he’s gliding across the stage, shining under the overhead lights and the praise of his people. It’s no industry people here. Friends and family only were invited, and Turkey, Auty, and I are the only people in attendance who aren’t East Kentonians.

Cochise shouts me out before our song “Bonded” plays. It was his idea, just like it was mine to decline performing with him. An intricate story about our lifelong bond from our accident, he pays homage to his friend Donny who was driving that night, as well as proclaiming that we’ll always be bonded, no matter what. The song alludes to us being broken up, and the blogs were supposed to report that he was engaged, but now it’s the last song on his album, a remix of his first ever single “First Nation Prince,” featuring Grime and PC, and the future Mrs. Beverly still isn’t here.

My phone vibrates, and my lips quirk reading Rico’s text. He’s outside, ready whenever I am, but my nosey ass wants to see who locked the prince down.

After Cochise is done, the DJ throws on one of my songs, and everyone begins to dance. Auty sidles up to me, holding out her hand.

Shaking my head, I can’t fight my smile as I grab it and let her bring me into a two-step.

“Aw shit,” I hear Turkey bellow. I hate dancing, and Auty knows that. Yet and still, every party we go to except one, I end up dancing with her.

She twirls me around then brings me back, just as my song blends into the Snoop Dogg song it sampled. Even in her heels, she G slides as she hypes me up.

“Da Coldest bitch foreal!” she hollers, before bringing me to her. Usually, I would feel calmer. Our spat hasn’t lasted, and she’s not mad anymore.

But I’m still worried. My heart is still beating fast. And my head begins to hurt as I think back on all the times Auty’s mood has gone up and down. All the times she’s lashed out, some memories incomplete, some so visceral, it’s like it’s happening again.

I lean back and try to search her eyes as the colored lights bounce around the room, but I can’t see anything different. I don’t even know what the hell I’m supposed to be looking for.

“Are you okay, Auty?” I ask. My voice is so low, I can’t even hear myself over the music, can’t feel the vibration of my voice over my heartbeat.

Auty reads my lips perfectly, still. Just for half a second, her mask slips. Fear I’ve never seen before, mixed with the usual melancholy, flashes, before it’s gone, and she grins, showing all of her teeth.

“I’m okay, Wynnie.”

“Ty coming in. I’on know why, nigga missed the whole show.”

Auty’s head whips toward the front doors, done with the conversation. I clench my fist to keep from getting another piece of gum out of my clutch. It’ll be just my luck my jaw is too sore to suck some dick tonight.

Slowly, the crowd begins to part. Security by the VIP ropes are the last to move, revealing a beautiful woman. She has long jet black hair, curled and swooped into an updo in the front, down and flipped in the back. Her gown is blood red, and when she walks into the section, slits in her dress make themselves known, going all the way up her thighs. Her right one has a red bandana tattooed on it, and I know exactly who she is.

“Oh my God,” Patience screams over the music. The woman–Cochise’s fiancée, spares Patience a glance before meeting my gaze.