Page 184 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

“Only ‘cause, according to my calculations, the nigga was in the camps when you met her. That don’t make me feel better, ‘cause as much as you rag on me and my niggas, you, Fred, and Nut are way fuckin’ worse. You niggas always acted like you all shared a brain. Nigga would always remind me that you and Fred were his friends, ‘specially after you left.”

“He’s right,” I shrug. “Like yeah, we been in them trenches. But you wasn’t in Ms. Robinson’s class serving green crayons and bullying niggas in Heads Up Seven Up. You can’t compete with that, Casey.”

I roll away from him as he tries to hit me, standing up and stretching my sore muscles.

“For real, Rico… we good? Like actually good?”

I meet Set’s gaze, frowning at his tone. I’ll never get used to him sounding unsure. Set has never been unsure about anything. And I know I’m getting soft, because for the first time in a long time, I see the annoying ass lil’ nigga who was always following my ace around when we wanted to get into some shit.

“Yeah, nigga, damn,” I groan, holding my hand out. He takes it, curling his index finger and thumb around mine for the Birch handshake.

I grip his hand, and drive my other fist into his ribs. He grunts, curling over and stumbling away from me.

“Now we even. Twenty years later, but whatever.” I grin as he scowls at me, trying to straighten up.

“Bitch ass nigga,” he coughs.

“Nigga you lucky I don’t black yo eye like I want to.”

Nut bursts into the room, the others following him, but he only has eyes for Set.

“Who the fuck killed Kilo? And don’t tell me no bullshit. This nigga stumbling over his words and I’m trying not to lay him out.” He jabs his thumb at a sheepish Turk, who starts rubbing on that damn eyebrow like he finna get an ass whooping.

“How I’ma know if I was witchu that weekend? Turk said he the one who did it.” Set shrugs, rubbing his side while he takes a seat on the couch.

I roll my eyes, checking my phone for the time. I had plans tonight, and these niggas wanna kumbuya and wake up sleeping dogs and shit.

“Man, look. I’m only saying this once, ‘cause yo ass never let shit go. Then, we dead that shit, since everyone else involved is dead anyway, aight? Entiendes?”

Nut kisses his teeth, but Shad’s messy ass is poised on the other couch, eager for the great mystery of what caused us to take over the Birch.

“There was a series of unfortunate events that weekend... Haze ended up in the Birch, in a… delicate situation. Technically, she killed Kilo.”

“You lying!” Shad shouts. Reem reaches over and snatches his phone, glancing at whatever he was texting before shaking his head and deleting the text.

“Nigga. Mace ain’t gotta know everything,” he mutters to Shad.

“He was tryna take out multiple Alvarezes with one stone. I made the call to say Turk did it and I ain’t tell you why because the way you are, you’d have killed any and every nigga in the towers, and it wasn’t needed. Me, Turk, Fred, and Haze handled the immediate problem, and the transfer of power was seamless… enough. We don’t bring it up because… well you know Haze is off.”

“No she not–”

“Yes she is,” Set and Shad interrupt Turk’s lying ass. Nut’s lips twitch but he’s still trying to play mad so he deepens his scowl instead.

“You know what? Whatever. You and my cousin good? If not I got the shirt we use for when Denver and Lil Mama beefed out and that shit is full proof.”

“We good,” I grin, walking over to Set. He dodges my arms, shifting to his back to kick at me.

“Look, you bruised my ribs like I bruised yours. Leave me alone, Rico.”

I grin hearing my name, and I’ll admit to myself and Fred that it is a little… nice to clear the air.

Go ahead and do it, Rick.

My grin drops off my face. I don’t like being told what to do, even if it’s myself. But I still steel myself, and go around the room looking at my niggas.

“Um,” I say, clearing my throat. “Look.”

Their chatter stops, and they all look at me expectantly.