Page 43 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

Nan and I spent two years building the hotel after Fredo died. We mapped out everything while I was here, then when I had to go back in the field, she made sure our vision came to life. Everything, from the Kallista sink fixtures in each bathroom, to the Statuario marble floors in the front lobby were researched and picked carefully. I wanted something that would last, scream luxury, and make this spot a premiere resort that can keep my family eating long after I'm gone.

I was impressed when I first saw everything. Now, though, I’m looking with fresh eyes, and I find myself scanning Snow’s face, making sure she sees everything, too.

Years ago, we were planning a future together, like kids do when they’re in love. What the fuck were we gonna do after we graduated school? I’d confided in Snow that Fredo and I were thinking of going to the Marines, and she supported me. Even if it meant we’d be separated. She believed in anything that made me more than the shit I was into.

“So, what do you think?” I ask as I key in the code to the door that separates the hotel from the main courtyard connecting my family’s villas. Nan and her cousins had been sending back to Belize for decades. There are compounds further south, too, in Placencia, Dagringa, and even one in San Pedro.

When Snow doesn’t respond right away, I open the door and glance over my shoulder.

Once again, she’s already staring at me, with that same look.

We stand there in the doorway. On the outside, we probably look stupid as hell.

But I need to know what she thinks.

I tell her as much when I buck my eyes at her, regretting it immediately when my stitches pull.

Snow’s lips quirk at my hiss and she shakes her head as she goes through the door ahead of me.

She speaks up more as cousins pass by and introduce themselves. A few of them are fans, and I have to take their phones and regulate so they don’t take any pictures of her. Miele tries to take her away, but I shut it down, compromising with her on letting Snow visit her later this week.

I know she’s most excited about having another woman around her age here. She’s obsessed with female rappers, and has been begging to spend time with Snow ever since Reno told her she was here.

But she’s not going anywhere until she answers my questions.

I answer hers to give her a hint. As the day goes on, and we walk the entirety of what my family owns, I talk more than I have my entire life. I leave no stone unturned, droning on like a fucking tour guide. We cover my Nan’s cousins, then their children, and finally, my third cousins who I’m closest to. How Reno is head of my security, and I even get a snort when I dodge revealing NiNi’s real name.

I still can’t decipher the look in her eyes.

By the time we separate to wash up for dinner, the sun is going down, and my fists won’t stop clenching.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I give a fuck if Snow is proud of me or not?

I know if any of my bros would come, they’d be impressed. Nutty would damn near wanna build his own shit here.

You can always ask her straight up.

I cut my eyes to Fredo as I throw on some sweats and a white tee. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Fredo chuckles, before sitting up straight on the edge of my bed. “Yeah; a pussy nigga.”

My upper lip curls as I face him fully. “Yo ass talk so reckless to be pushing up daisies.”

Fredo’s smile just broadens. “Rather be dead than a pussy. Snow’s opinion carries weight. Yet, you treat her like shit. Why you give a fuck whether or not she thinks you’re successful?”

“We treat each other like shit, Fred,” I counter, but it’s weak, and we both know it.

“Never took you for the type of nigga who let the lady set the tone. Like I said… pussy.” He shrugs, and it takes everything in me not to square up with this nigga.

The air is stifling in the dining room. It’s just me, Nan, Snow, and Mars, and no one so much as sighs because of my attitude. I know it’s because of me, but I can’t get myself out of it, and I’m all talked out.

Not for the first time, I wish everyone could just read my mind.

But that would be too easy.

So instead, I excuse myself early, and try not to think about the breath of relief everyone probably takes in my absence.

My muscles ache with each step I take, but I’d rather have that than the restlessness from before.