Page 9 of Gang of Roses: Dice

“Give him two to the dome and burn this shit down.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the young bulls called out. I didn’t even look to see who. I honestly didn’t care, but off the strength of our youth, I granted his ass a quick death. I wasn’t about to sit here going back and forth with this nigga like I was his bitch. I wasn’t a heartless ass nigga, but I didn’t have a lot of patience for a wannabe man. When you get something from me, I give you a deadline. The first missed payment was a warning. The second warning was a limb or clearing of your accounts. If I had to look for your ass, that was execution. Folks knew the rules before coming to fuck with me and my money.

Walking back to the car, I could hear footsteps behind me, and I knew exactly who they belonged to.

“Radar, we headed?” Bronco asked.

I stopped in my tracks and ran my hand down my beard.

Bronco was my younger brother, and the nigga was a head case. Between him and Anera, my on-again, off-again playmate, I didn’t know who stressed my ass out the most.

“Why?”

“Damn, nigga I was just asking. Bruh, why you always trippin’ witcho mean ass?”

“I’ma pretend like you didn’t just cuss in a conversation with me. But, if you must know, I’m headed to the airport to pick Anera’s aggy-ass up, wassup?”

“I wish you would stop pulling rank. Ritz, I’m twenty-six.”

“And I raised you like my fuckin’ son. So, if you gon’ speak, some respect betta be behind that shit. What you want? Because claiming you just asking, nah, you want something,” I said, as I continued my walk to the car, with him hot on my trail. Grown or not, he was gonna show respect in my presence. I wasn’t one of his little pissy-ass homeboys.

“Well, if you gon’ drag it out of me.”

This was the shit I was talking about. How in the hell was I dragging it out of him? Bronco knew just how to get under my skin.

“Let me get a penthouse tonight, I got a bad ass… I meant I got this bad shawty coming in from town.”

The mention of him wanting to bring a girl to one of the penthouses brought me back to that night. The answer was yes, the majority of the time, when it came to my siblings. He kept telling me about the girl, but I zoned his ass out.

That night came to me outta nowhere. I stood there in deep thought while my mind left Bronco behind and drifted back to the night I would never forget with G-baby.

Two years ago…

Once we reached an agreement, I called the casino cage right then and there and had the marker removed from Ms. Global Jamerson’s account. Knowing the type of woman she was, I also instructed them to print the updated balance.

“Someone should be bringing it up in a minute.”

“You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Yeah, I did. Yo’ ass was gonna wanna see that balance at zero.”

She laughed.

“I’m witchu when ya right.”

“I thought so.”

Global was drop-dead gorgeous, and her curves only made that woman finer. The confidence shawty carried was on a whole different level. I always hated it when a woman couldn’t see her own worth. If a nigga already admired what he saw, why the fuck would you start talking yourself down? Confidence was sexy as hell, no matter your size, but I wasn’t in the business of boosting the unboosted. Either you knew who the fuck you were... or you didn’t.

Ladies, this is Blaq Byrd. If you’re reading this, find your own damn lane and build your own damn confidence. If you lose weight and the man ain’t feeling it, go find the nigga who loves you at that weight. If you gain a few pounds and his only complaint ain’t got shit to do with your health, tell his ass to leave his questions and concerns during normal business hours, then go find the muthafucka who’ll love every pound on you.

But don’t ever sit around letting somebody convince you they ain’t attracted to you no more over some superficial shit. The moment that happens, tell his ass to look the fuck down.

When he does, hit him with what my granddaddy used to tell me:

“You must be a tambourine-ass nigga. ’Cause no real man with a pair gives a fuck about no fly shit like that.”

Now...