“Nobody said it was on purpose,” Bryce deadpanned, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “That’s what makes it worse.” He turned to me, a more serious note enteringhis voice. “But for real, Chess, if you ever want a break one day, I got you. YouknowI can cook.”
I smiled, giving him a small nod. “Thank you.”
Bryce continued laying down the rules, his tone firm and steady.
“Rule number four is a rule I have already mentioned, butI’ma say it louder for theslowones.No multiple device chargers at once. Actually, onlyonedevice per person gets charged per day. So y’all better choose between your phone, laptop, or whatever the hell else you brought.”
Isis yelled like someone had snatched her lashes off. “But I have three phones!”
“Then pick your favorite one, trap Barbie,” Bryce said.
Adrian ran a hand down his face. “Shid, I got two phones too, and I got people who need to reach me.”
“Two phones?” I repeated, my eyes narrowing in mock shock.
“Yeah. Chess, you know every dope boy gotat leasttwo phones—a personal one and one for work," he explained, the casualness in his tone suggesting it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Mm-hmm. That usually applies to kingpins, cartel cousins, neighborhood pharmacists, or niggas who think theythisclose to a Rico case… not part-time plug runners with a limp and overdue child support."
I leveled my gaze at him.
"And if you had half a brain, you’d give your baby mama, your boss, or your main connect the number you plan to keep charged. Then, when you get back to the city, swap the line, rotate the contacts, and keep it moving. Burners are for business. Smart niggas keep their real life clean. And if you need any moreunsolicitedadvice, don’t ever put a stash in the same car you drive to your mama’s house; that’s how indictments happen.”
Bryce looked like he wanted to laugh, Isis gawked like she was taking notes, and Adrian simply stared, a mix of respect and surprise written across his face.
I leaned back, calm as hell. “Oh, and if your trap is slow enough for you to be snowed in up here with us, maybe you need less phones and more hustle.”
Adrian’s brows lifted, clearly impressed, like he was seeing me for the first time. “Let me find out you was atrap queen turned tenure-track. Out here grading papers by day and cutting bricks at night.”
I smirked. “Let’s just say I studied more than psychology.”
“Aight,” Bryce intervened, visibly frustrated but still amused. “Phones will only be charged once a day… not two, three, anddamn sure not four. Once. Make it count. And I shouldn’t have to tell y’all what will happen if you fail to abide by the rules.”
Adrian dropped his head against the couch, his humor slipping back in. “Man, forget being in prison; this feels like a low-budget version of hell… with a snack drawer. We ain’t burning, but we definitely suffering. This ain’t no cabin, it’s Lucifer’s lodge. And this nigga,” he pointed at Bryce, “is the concierge with a clipboard and attitude.”
“If you’re done, pick your chore,” Bryce replied without even looking up, flipping a page in his notebook like he was reviewing some damnation schedules.
Adrian bolted upright. “Nah… I wasn’t complaining, dawg! I was just admiring your… leadership style. You know, firm, fear-inducing… real dictator-ish.”
“Admire it in silence. Rule number six, which specifically applies toIsis… since I’m sure this rule matters to her more than the rest of us."
He paused dramatically, letting the tension build, then added, “Absolutely no streaming.”
Isis blinked erratically, her mind clearly racing. “You mean, like… no Netflix?” The incredulity in her voice was unmistakable.
“None,” Bryce confirmed, his tone firm and unwavering. “No TV marathons, no binge-watching, and absolutely no ‘just one episode.’ That Wi-Fi router and TV pull more power than y’all think… especially when folks forget they're on all day, wasting energy that could keep us warm."
Isis stared at him, genuinely baffled. “This is absurd! So what are we supposed to do?! Stare at each other?! Read the Bible?! Knit?!” Her arms flailed dramatically, reflecting her agitation.
“Reading the Bible… or anything wouldn’t be such a bad suggestion for you,”Bryce fired back. "Might learn a thing or two about patience and humility. But if you get really bored, you can talk—” He hesitated, catching himself mid-mistake. “Actually, scratch that. Unless you talkin’ toyoself…quietly.”
Bryce walked over to the fireplace and added another log with casual menace.
“You can read, play cards, journal; hell, go outside and make snow angels in the nude, if you’re feeling particularly wild. And if all else fails, shid… go to sleep. Maybe you can dream about being somewhere warm… like a Motel 6 in Florida with roaches who don’t knock before they enter.”
“Sleep?!” Isis repeated, her hands flying up in despair. “Like I said, this is jail!”
“Nah, prison actually got more activities,” Adrian added his two cents. “At least they got yard time.”
