Page 46 of His Favorite Felon

CHAPTER 18

Chance

MAY 4TH

I didn’t want to leave Justice, but since she had plans, and I didn’t want to be that nigga following his girl everywhere. So, what do I do? Played it off like I had plans of my own. My birthday was tomorrow, and I hadn’t even mentioned it to her. I didn’t celebrate my birthday in the ways most people did, so I wasn’t tripping off her knowing or not.

I decided to visit my grandparents a day early. I would normally spend my birthday with them, but since I was with Justice now, I wanted to spend the day with her. She might decide that she ain’t want to kick it with me no more since I was going to tell her the truth about Chase and me. I ain’t want to bring her around my grandparents until after I told her.

But before stopping at my grandparents, I decided to stop through the hood to check on my trap house. I was supposed to make my round a few days ago, but I’d been wrapped up with Justice. Instead, I had Relly, the head of operations for the Southeast house, go collect from the other houses, and I told him I would pull up on him to collect.

Relly was my right hand growing up. Originally from West Philly, he moved here to live with his grandparents the summer before ninth grade. He came up just like me. He grew up with his grandparents, so I understood him better than most. After high school, we parted ways. I started hustling on the streets thanks to my g-pop. He was expected to make it to the NFL, but a neck injury in his second year ended that, as they didn’t want to risk paralysis. A few years ago, he reached out and said he was back in town. He mentioned living at his grandparents’ house, which his mom inherited after his grandparents passed away. He sounded defeated from being stuck in the basement and depressed. Being the real nigga I was, I cheered him on as he worked towards the NFL; when that failed, I cheered his ass up and got him out of his folks’ basement. So, I set him up so he could get his own shit. He been holding shit down ever since.

His ass been knocking niggas left and right, especially when he finally got used to this street life. If I wanted a nigga to suffer, I’d call Rell, but if I was pissed off and tired of looking at a nigga then I’d shoot that nigga. I wasn’t one to draw shit out, but I knew why he liked to torture niggas. It was because he still had a lot of anger built up in him from dealing with his medical condition. I never brought it up, so I let the nigga deal with shit the best way he could.

When I pulled up to my trap in Lenchmob, a bunch of young niggas were on the porch when I parked. When I got out, a few of them looked my direction, and one walked towards me.

“Wassup, Link.” He reached his hand out. I dapped him up.

“You loud and hot as fuck, lil nigga. How you know I wanted folks to know I was out here?”

He nodded his head. “Damn, you right, big bro. My bad.”

“Yeah, cut that hot shit out.”

“You got it,” he said.

He turned and walked with me toward the trap house. He told the other niggas who were playing dice on the covered stoop to clear out. They all mumbled shit under their breath, picked up the dice and their winnings, and headed towards the court across the street. When we got to the front door, this little nigga gon’ tell me he’ll be on standby. When I entered and turned around, this nigga was posted up like he was really security.

“Yoooo!” I yelled as I entered.

Looking around, I noticed that everything was spotless.

“Rell! Where the fuck you at, nigga?”

I heard him before I saw him. “Damn, nigga, can I walk down the stairs? I was only upstairs getting your money out the safe.”

When he rounded the corner, I saw him carrying four duffle bags. He threw them on the table, then walked over to dap me up.

“My bad, nigga. I was trying to make sure you wasn’t sleeping on the job or no shit.”

“Man, fuck up.”

“Naw, I’m making sure you ain’t slipping since you’re letting them young niggas hang out in front of the spot. When did we start allowing that hot as shit?” I questioned.

“Boul, you talkin’ ‘bout them young jawns? Man, they ain’t on shit, but I hear you. I’ll talk to Debo about that shit.”

I nodded toward the screen door. “That’s Debo?” I asked.

“Yeah. He’s been stepping up, trying to get in on the inside. He’s been my eyes and ears.”

“Heard. I’ma look into that lil nigga’s parents,” I admitted.

“Already did. I told his bad ass to stay in school and stay out of trouble. He lives with his grandmother.”

Silence passed between us; we both already understood what didn’t need explaining.

“So, what’s been going on? You got updates from the others?” I asked.