“What up? I was about to come in there and tell you I was out here, but I started getting bossed around by your wife.”
“Well, she is the boss around here.” He shrugged his shoulders.
"But I knew you were out here. Shid, I knew when you were on your way up the street.”
I shook the last bit of mulch onto the ground and folded up the empty bag, dropping it into the nearby trash bag. I walked toward Hov and slapped hands with him.
“Come inside, though, we got some shit to discuss. Baby, you good out here?”
“Yeah, I’m almost finished, and then I’ll be in there in a minute to start dinner.”
“Alright, love you, mama.”
“Love you too.”
Hov walked ahead of me toward the back room, and I followed him inside. As soon as I stepped through the doorway, I could tell the room wasn’t meant for sleeping anymore.
There was a regular office desk sitting against the wall, dark wood, clean top. A laptop sat in the middle, a notepad next to it, and a pen laid out like he actually used the shit. Two solid chairs were lined up in front of the desk, pushed in neat. Behind it was a basic office chair with wheels, the kind you sit in for hours.
Against the back wall was a tall bookshelf, empty as hell. No books, no papers, and just one globe sitting in the middle of the shelf. The walls were plain, no pictures, no decorations. The room looked like a workspace, straight up. Somewhere you come to sit down, talk business, and get shit done. No comfort, no personal touches, just furniture and space. I’d never been in here before. Didn’t even know this room exist.
“Who the fuck do you think you is? AlCapone nigga?”
“I think I’m a businessman, that’s who.”
Hov plopped down in his seat.
“Oh, I didn’t know you needed a desk and a bookshelf to sell drugs. What’s the globe for?”
“I’m trying to sell everything, and the globe is to remind me that I have way more than New York to take over.”
“Shit, I hear that. I need to find something besides the streets, too, especially with my son and little mama here now.”
“Your daughter is pretty as hell, bro. I’m missing her already, and she’s only my goddaughter. I wanted to block P ass in that room this morning, but Ciara told me I had to let her go.”
“Yeah, hopefully she can get her to come back over here, at least until I find us somewhere to go that’s safe, because I know she doesn’t think she’s good for too long in Castle Hill. And when I find somewhere, I don’t know if I’ll ever let anybody know where I stay. No deliveries, no visitors well, except y’all. I probably won’t even let my sisters know where I live. Quatar nem got my location too easy if you ask me.”
“Yeah, that’s still a mystery on how they did that shit. I’m trying to figure it out too. But I called you in here to talk about those niggas. You know, I had Scotty looking around town, trying to find us some type of collateral, right?”
“Yeah, and what did he come up with?”
“He didn’t find any closer spots to them yet, but he does know where Mecca’s granddaughter goes to day care. It’s a spot over in Harlem.”
“Oh yeah? You trying to go snatch up the little girl?” I chunked my chin back because Hov always said no kids involved in the past.
“Nah, he got word from a girl that used to work there that all of Mecca’s grandkids have asthma and get their asthma prescriptions filled at a small pharmacy close to the day care. I figure we go in there, raid their systems for addresses, and pay them an unexpected visit sometime soon.”
“How do you know that they have their correct address on file?”
“I don’t know, but at this point, I’m desperate for moves to be made. I don’t like that we're at a standstill with them niggas so far,” Hov leaned back in his chair.
“Yeah, me either. I'm itching to scratch them niggas.”
My phone chimed in my pocket, and from the ringtone alone, I knew it was my burner phone. The one Elijah thought belonged to No Money.
I pulled the phone out, seeing that it was one of very many niggas I needed to kill, even though he was a small fish in my sea of problems right now.
Elijah:I’m back in New York because they said my mama is sick with pneumonia, and it’s bad. I’m coming to see her. And if you want, we can link up and do that little hit on the Quatar family if your information is still good. I need to make enough money to disappear again and take care of my people, especially if my mama needs medicine, or worse a casket. So, get back with me back asap if you’re serious about setting that up.
