Page 81 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

I meet his gaze after I drain all emotions from my face. But to my surprise, he’s not upset. Or even hurt.

This nigga is grinning.

“You know, you haven’t called her Snow since–”

“I will kill us both, on my mama.”

Thankfully, the nigga shuts up, though his grin doesn’t leave. Once we’re next to the yacht, I hand him the suction rounds NiNi gave me, while I take out one of my machetes from my backpack and place the handle in my mouth.

Shad’s eyes round, and he balks when I wink at him.

I know he’s wishing he stayed with the others, but that’s his fault for trying to press me about some shit that has nothing to do with him.

Tightening the straps on my pack, I lock one of the suction rounds onto the side of the mini yacht, before locking the other. Slowly, I pull myself up the side, only glancing down once to make sure Shad is behind me. Because I’m trying to be quiet, it takes me about ten minutes to make it to the stern pulpit. Taking a peek over the railing, I see one nigga asleep, which means the other person is probably below deck.

A laugh bubbles up, but I hold it in. I guess this nigga coming isn’t so bad.

Taking a deep breath, I exhale and climb into the cockpit. I open my mouth, letting the machete handle drop into my hand as I creep up, and plunge the blade deep into the nigga’s neck just as his eyes burst open.

Pulling it out, blood spatters before I grab his hair and swing the machete all the way through his neck.

“Shit!”

I turn at the hoarse whisper, delighted at Shad’s gagging.

“Catch!” I throw the newly decapitated head, grinning as he plays hot potato before hitting it overboard.

“You bet’ not throw up either, mark.”

I gesture for him to go below deck, and he ambles off, trying to choke down the dinner threatening to come back up. The keys are still in the ignition, so I turn the engine over and begin plotting the course back to Muelle Fiscal, the dock in Chetumal.

Two gunshots break the sound of waves, and just as I begin to steer the mini yacht, Shad comes back, gagging as he begins to kick the other nigga toward the water.

“You know you could have shot that nigga,” he croaks after the body hits the water.

I just shrug, turning to him as he plops down on the seat behind me.

“You know I love knives. Bring up our previous conversation, and I’ll use them on you.”

He lifts his hands in surrender. “You got it, my boy. My lips are sealed… for now.”

“Forever.”

“Yeah, aight.”

You owe him an explanation, Rick. Just like everyone else.

I turn back toward the wheel. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Damn nigga. The fuck you so mean for? I said I wasn’t gonna say shit,” Shad spits, but I let him think I was talking to him and not the ghost now standing next to me, smirking as always.

I know this is just the beginning. The other part of claiming Snow, is hearing all the feedback from it. And while none of the homies’ opinions would ever change how I’m coming behind her, I still don’t wanna hear none of that shit.

But when the time comes where I can’t escape it, I’ll listen to niggas bitch and moan and complain, because at least if I’m hearing all that, it means I still have Snow.

Rico

When we’re fifteen minutes from the hotel, I call Snow before I can even think better of it. After Shad and I made it back to the dock, niggas had to play Captain Save-a-Ho to too many big ass niggas.