“Are you serious?” Jovanis gawked, not believing those words had come out of his mouth. “I’ve thought about Irish more than she’s thought about herself. You don't know shit!”
Zayd groaned. “Bruh, y’all really letting a woman come between y’all.”
“We ain't never been friends!” Noble made that clear. “He only a nigga that I do business with.”
“A’ight, listen,” Rio interjected. “We got an organization to keep afloat. Zayd is right. Y’all can’t let this situation fuck up the business. It’s fucked-up, Van, so don't take this as if I’m dismissing that Noble wrong as fuck but nothing comes before TLM.”
“Man, fuck that nigga!” Jovanis seethed with so much conviction the room went silent.
Noble took his hat off then rubbed his palm down his wavy fade. “Let’s put all this shit out on the table, Van. We don't need to leave no stone unturned.”
Suddenly, Jovanis’ chest ached with anticipation as his mouth watered. Saliva alerted him that vomit would soon arrive. Noble knew his secret. He held it over his head like an umbrella, threatening to snatch it away and drown him in embarrassment.
“What you mean by that?” Wilde asked, confused.
“Tell them, Van,” Noble goaded him. “Go ‘head and tell everybody why Irish ain't happy. Tell them why she ran to me and why she ain't fucking with you right now. Go ‘head, my guy. This is a safe space.”
Again, all gazes centered on Jovanis, making him instantly regret bringing up this conversation at the meeting. He was filled with rage and no ability to control his emotions. Pain was the theme in his life. He’d always felt it, but this time was unbearable.
“We waiting!” Noble bellowed. “Niggas mute now but you was talking cash shit a minute ago. You wanna know why I will never respect you, Jovanis? Because you're selfish as fuck! You only think about what you want. You don't give a fuck if somebody give up years of their life for you. Your ass will stillkeep taking and taking. Plus, you a scared nigga. You can’t even walk in your own fucking shoes without feeling shame.”
Unexpectedly, Jovanis stood, pulling his .45 out of his waistband. He aimed it at Noble but hadn’t realized his Glock was aimed at him.
“Bro, what the fuck,” Rio complained. “Put the guns down.”
When Jovanis looked to his right, he noticed Zayd and Wilde had pulled their guns out and were aiming at him. There was three against one. Jovanis was at a disadvantage, forgetting that these two were Noble’s brothers.
“You know I don't ever pull my bitch out unless I’m about to shoot,” Noble warned in a sinister tone that could chill a sauna.
“Aye, this is not the answer,” Nuke stated with urgency. “It don't need to come to this. All this gon’ do is create more fucking drama that we don't need. Think about this shit.”
“So, this how it is, Wilde and Zayd?” Jovanis snorted.
“When it comes to my brother, hell yeah!” Wilde snapped.
“Don't be stupid, Van,” Zayd warned.
Jovanis couldn’t think clearly. He hadn’t had a sensible thought since Tuck broke his heart. He could go out, guns blazing with his pride leading him. Or he could dead this situation and take his L on the chin. However, when he thought about Irish and their bond, nothing topped it. If he had to shoot Noble just to prove to her how much he loved her, he wouldn’t give it a second thought.
Fuck it…
The decision had been made just that fast. Jovanis wanted Noble out the picture, permanently, so he and Irish could get back on the right track. They were two peas in a pod. It had always been them with no interference from outside people. Somehow, Irish had allowed herself to get lost in Noble. The jealousy Jovanis possessed was as violent as a California wildfire. Irish was his. She belonged to him. He had invested so much into her that allowing her to gallop into another man’s arms was a visual that couldn’t happen.
Jovanis’ finger pressed against the trigger, preparing to pull it before the gun was snatched from his hand. He looked at Rio, who grilled him with flaring nostrils.
“Not here,” he griped, cutting his eyes to Noble, who still had his gun pointed at Jovanis. “Aye, let this shit go.”
“I’ll let it go when this nigga dead.”
Hesitantly, Zayd and Wilde lowered their guns.
“Aye, bro, let him live,” Zayd advised.
Noble continued glaring at Jovanis until he smiled. Everyone seemed to release the breath they’d been holding when he put his pistol away.
“When this bitch-ass nigga end up dead, I want y’all to know it was me.”
Noble’s declaration kept everyone in silence as he walked out the warehouse. Jovanis immediately sat, rubbing his hand down his face. He felt crazed, almost like he couldn’t find his common sense. Noble had almost outed him but spared him once again. Jovanis should've been grateful for that, yet he couldn’t extend grace to Noble. He had something that used to belong to him. Since Irish was still in Noble’s possession, Jovanis would forever hate him.
