Xoey looked down at the phone with her face full of confusion. She reared back, even though he couldn’t see her, then shook her head. “I think the fuck not,” she said, then hung up. She dropped the phone back into her bag, and it started ringing, but she didn’t pick it up. Instead, she pulled a gun from the bag, zipped it closed, then put it on her back. “Option number two.”
“Which is?” I said, watching her.
“Ring the doorbell and be invited in,” she said, then slammed the door.
“Umm, what the fuck was that about?” I asked my brothers.
“We don’t question Plus Twelve’s methods,” Pyrite answered as he opened his door. He grabbed the pizza off the dashboard and then closed the door.
I followed behind him and Citrine as Xoey led the way. The entire time she was walking up the driveway, she mumbled under her breath, something about ungrateful niggas and how she was going to have to go upside his head a few times.
“Ay, hold up,” I called out, and they turned to look at me. “Plus Twelve, you sure you want to be here for this?” I asked. “I mean, the last shit with Ta’lon and all. I want to make sure you are in the mindset to deal with this nigga.”
“I’m good,” she said, nodding. “I haven’t been on my meds in a few days, though, so you never know what you’re going to get.”
She turned back around, lifted her hand, and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the locks disengaged, and Quincy opened the door.
“Took you fucking long enough.” He was on his phone, so he wasn’t paying attention to us. I used that as an opportunity and pushed past Xoey. My fist connected to his jaw, and the sound echoed through the house. Quincy stumbled back, but my hits didn’t stop. He fell to the ground, and I kicked him in the stomach.
“I've been looking for your ass for six fucking months,” I said in between kicks. “Six fucking months and you were right here the entire fucking time!” With one final kick that lifted him off the ground, I stepped back. Quincy dropped to the ground, and I grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him further into the house to get him out of the way, and someone closed the door behind us. I put my foot on the back of his neck and pushed down. “I should snap your fucking neck.”
“Do it,” he groaned, then coughed. “Fuck nigga, do it!”
I moved my foot, then flipped him onto his back. “I got plans for you first,” I said, then punched him in the face, knocking him out. I looked up to my brothers and Xoey. “Check the house to make sure no one is here.”
While Xoey and my brothers checked the house, I got Quincy up and into a chair and tied him up. The entire time, his head bobbed back and forth, but he never woke up. I didn’t expect anyone else to be here, but it was a safety precaution.
“Nobody else is here,” Xoey said, coming back. She looked disappointed, and I shook my head. “I really was expecting at least a bitch or something.” She dropped onto the couch and crossed her arms. “I just knew it was going to be someone.”
“Who were you expecting?”
“I was hoping for Lavender or Tank,” she answered with a shrug. “Krude can’t find them.”
“They’ll show up,” I said, nodding. I didn’t care who found Tank as long as they were found. Krude was out searching, so I knew they would eventually be tracked down. My concern was with Quincy. I turned my attention back to Quincy, then looked over at my brothers, who were watching me closely.
“This is your show,” Pyrite said, then gave me a singular nod. “How you move is how you move. We aren’t going to judge.”
“I might,” Xoey interjected. I glared at her, and she smiled. “I’m just saying. If this isn’t nasty, then I’m going to judge because it’s been a long ass time coming.”
Instead of going back and forth with her, I walked out of the house and went back to the car to grab my bag. Once I had it, I went back inside and dropped it on the floor next to Quincy. Inside, I had all the tools I wanted to work with, plus a few more to play around with.
I popped the smelling salt, waved it under his nose, then dropped it back in the bag. While I waited for Quincy to wake up, I pulled up a chair and sat across from him. Quincy’s head started bobbing, and I knew that he was beginning to come around.
“Wake up, bitch boy,” I said, smacking his face. “Wake the fuck up.” Quincy slowly lifted his head, and when his eyes met mine, I smiled. “There you go, nigga.” He pulled at the cuffs on his wrist, and I shook my head. “You’re locked in. No reason to panic, though. We won’t be here long.”
“Ain’t no panicking, nigga,” he groaned and stopped pulling at the restraints. “You knew you had to lock my ass down or I’d kill you.”
“It’s never been a day in my life when I thought that,” I replied.
Quincy smiled, then licked his busted lips. “Your bitch does, though,” he laughed. “Scared out of her fucking mind of me, and you know it.”
“Nah.” I leaned forward so he could see my eyes and know how serious I was. “First off, Yale is never and will never be a bitch, understand that. Second, you tricked her, used that adrenaline rush she was on as a bait and switch tactic.” I leaned back and shrugged. “I can’t front, I gotta give props when they are due. You played that shit perfectly. From the beginning, you knew how you were going to move. Right?”
“Right,” he nodded. “I knew a fuck nigga and a dumb bitch when I saw one. Y’all fell right for the shit.”
“Tell me this, Quincy, was Grant in on it the entire time?” I asked him. There were pieces of the puzzle I was missing, and the only way I could figure them out was to ask questions. “I can’t see that nigga not being a part of this, but I want to make sure.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Baby brother went after Yale for a reason.”
