Page 195 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

And apparently, I’m the only muthafucka who actually adheres to what he would want.

I blow him a kiss, but quickly decide that’s not enough, so I push myself off the wall, grab my big ass check, and stroll right up to him.

Fiorella beams at me before finishing Slime’s tie. “Is my little red planet here today?”

“Ma, how you know Mars?”

“We went to Mass the past Sunday and Mars got to meet his Nonna,” I grin, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“He has such good manners, Gio. I know you’re busy with your campaign, but you really should make time.” She lightly chastises him, before patting his chest gently. “I’m gonna go find your brother.”

As soon as she leaves, Slime takes a step closer. “You clearly ain’t learned shit from putting my mama in yo line of fire.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at this nigga. “Is my nephew yo son or not? If you wasn’t on bunk you could have been the one to take him to meet the fam. Now I gotta be the good son Fiorella needs. Gianna’s a lil’ sad we can’t be siblings who kiss, but I promised to put her on the lil’ homies–ah ah ah.” I plant my fist on his chest and look around, cheeks hurting from smiling. “You wouldn’t want all these good people to know the nigga wanting to be mayor may dress it up, but he’s still only a low down thug from the projects. You know, yo anger scares Fiorella, Giovanni. You ain’t helping yo case to be around my nephew right now.”

Slime swipes my fist off him, clenching his jaw. “You think you hot shit because you got Pooh to pull some strings. Yo day is coming, Luney. Sooner than you think. And I hope to God you made it right with Him or you prolly never gon’ see Fred again.”

I chuckle once, shaking my head. “You so blinded by yo anger, you gon’ end up doing some shit you can’t come back from. Just like I know you Ford tough, you know my get down. So ask yourself; why the fuck I aint end this shit a long time ago? Why have I spared you over and over and over again? ‘Cause I’m a good person?” I tilt my head to the left. “‘Cause I feel guilty for lying to you?” My head tilts to the right. “‘Cause I haven’t had the space, time, and opportunity to truly make you wish you were dead? No, dumbass. Get a clue, nigga. And get the fuck over it. Everyone else has.”

This nigga ain’t mature enough to be my mayor. I’m fasho voting for whoever runs against him.

Even as the press conference drones on, and I’m on stage, I’m over this shit. I’m only here as a representative for the Second Chance Foundation as a favor to Roe. Technically, I’m Vice Chairman of the Board, so I’m not out of place. I just didn’t want to leave Snow’s bed this morning.

And she knows it, too, the way she arches her back in an unprovoked nude I have to turn the brightness down on my phone to see and admire.

She knows exactly what she’s doing. Her new mirror came last night, and instead of waiting for me to set it up, this is how she shows me the position of it in her room.

I’m in the middle of telling her all the shit I’m gonna do to her facing the mirror when the mistress of ceremonies announces my cue. I put my phone away and walk up to the podium, scanning the room before leaning in.

It’s mostly community members, very little BBs which means very little security. It’s not that odd, since we’re at the home plate, but still… ain’t politicians supposed to be secured?

I lean into the mic as my speech plays on the teleprompter. “The Second Chance Foundation is committed to providing equity to all marginalized groups, but particularly, citizens south of Zelkova Street. As someone with close ties to the Birch Housing Projects, I’ve spent many afternoons in this very gym, utilizing the different programs of the South Kenton Community Center to stay out of trouble, from the late Ms. Bea’s daycare as a baby, to helping to deliver meals to our elderly residents every week as a teen. So it’s an honor to give back in such a monumental way, to an institution that has helped shape me, and a man who continues to…”

My eyes lock on the nigga dumb enough to walk in here with a black mask on, like he won’t stick out. He balls up his lips, visible even from behind his mask, and lifts his gun as he advances through the crowd.

Time slows down as I glance to my right.

Slime has this smug ass look on his face, trying to look everywhere but the gunman coming right at us. Coming right at me.

This nigga.

Amateur.

I snatch the nigga up, pulling him until he’s right in front of me, just as the first bullet whizzes through the air. It strikes him in his shoulder. Not even a quarter of a second later, a second and third bullet strike him on his chest, and his other shoulder. A fourth strikes his abdomen.

The impact drops both of us on the stage. Screams erupt, and everyone begins to run out of the gym. Slime cries out, twitching off of me. My eyes balloon as bloody circles begin to spread all over his upper body.

“GIO!”

The gunman hops onto the stage, ripping off his mask as he falls to his knees in front of him.

Intense ringing fills my ears. The look on G’s face is indescribable, as his eyes bounce from one gunshot wound to the other.

“I’m so… fuck, bro,” he whispers, each hand switching as more blood pours from Slime’s mouth down the sides of his head.

Sirens snap me out of this horror movie, and I’m able to stumble onto my feet and grab G and his gun.

“Come on, we gotta go.” I start pulling him toward the hallway, but he’s resisting.