Maino frowned, disbelief written all over his face.
“Nigga, are we talking about the same Nivéa? The one who rode with you through all those bids? Put money on your books? Went against her mama for your black ass? Cooked, ironed, held you down every fuckin’ day like y’all were married or some shit?” He shook his head. “For real?”
“Aight, you don’t believe me.”
Boe reached inside his pocket and pulled out Nivéa’s phone. After powering it on, he pressed in the code he had watched her use and scrolled to her photos. Then he handed it to Maino, who whistled in disbelief.
“Damn, who she laid up with? This nigga looks familiar.” He asked, brows furrowing.
“I said the same shit, but I can’t put my finger on it, cuz.”
Maino rubbed his beard as he stared at Crown for a while, then noticed something, a hint of the horse on Crown’s chest. “Aye, this the nigga over the Knights. He the president. Can’t remember his fuckin’ name, though. You know it’s been a minute since I been in the Hills.”
“Crown.” Boe finally pieced the rest of the puzzle together as he snapped his fingers.
Now it all made sense. The nigga at the market. He couldn’t tell Maino that part without revealing the whole truth, so he kept the part about Danger to himself. But he finally connected the dots. Danger was the vice president, and he remembered them both coming to Preach’s club to meet up.
Preach owned a nightclub and often conducted business in the underground of the building. While Boe wasn’t big enough to be part of the actual meetings, Preach would request more soldiers to be present upstairs as muscle…more eyes, more ears. This position had worked to Boe’s favor because it was one of the reasons he knew how to tell the detective about some of Preach’s buyers. The other intel he got about Preach came from the inside.
“Damn, that sho is him.” Maino bobbed his head. “But why you got her phone?”
“A nigga was so heated I ended up walking out with that bitch.” Boe shrugged, telling one lie after another.
Maino chuckled, handing him the phone back.
“Whatever you do, don’t get too heated that you go back and involve yourself in her new relationship. Just let that shit go and focus on yourself. Them niggas in that bike shit crazy. The shit’s just as bad as the dope game, you feel me? You know I ain’t never been no scary ass nigga, but you gotta know when somethin’ just ain’t worth the trouble. With everything you got going on right now, you don’t need that kind of heat on you.”
“Man, it is what it is. Told you, she's on some foul shit now. She couldn’t handle the time I was facing, and instead of being real and telling me that, she just switched up on me.”
“Damn, I really hate that for y’all, especially since she just had Ny. You on the run and shit. How you even gon’ see your baby now?”
Boe shrugged as he cut off Nivéa’s phone and put it back in his pocket. “I’mma figure it out. Fuck her mama, though. I’mover that.” Another lie slid off his tongue easily. He wasn’t over it. It stung like a bitch, but what more could he do?
Maino took the blunt back, exhaling slowly. “Shit happens, cuz. You just gotta keep your head up and keep pushin’. And you know if you ain’t got nobody else, you got me. Maybe once things cool down between y’all, this could be a spot where you link up and see the baby.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully out of respect.
“Maybe shit ain’t work out ‘cause, honestly, it ain’t good for Nyla to be out here like that on the run wit’ you. A baby needs stability.”
“I hear you, and meeting here sounds good. A nigga would love that. I miss her already. I’ll let you know. I got to get settled first.”
Boe played like he cared about having a bond with his child, but he knew he’d fucked that all the way up, beyond repair, and he’d likely never see her again.
“I feel you.”
“First things first, I gotta get rid of this whip I’m in. I got a lil’ bread to get me something cash until I can afford something better.” Boe was worried that Nivea had reported her car stolen.
“Nah, don’t even worry about that. Once you get rid of it, I got one for you out back. Drive that until you get your bread up, then cop you something. Don’t waste no money right now. Nigga, you need to be stackin’ and fast.” Maino told him.
“Good lookin’, cuz.”
The men sat and caught up for a few hours before Maino had to head back out on business. Boe stayed behind and chilled, or at least that’s what he told Maino. Instead, he reached for the issued phone and called the detective back, lying to buy himself more time.
∞∞∞
It was seven thirty-six p.m., and Crown was locked inside his home office, focused on the high-rise office his firm had been hired to design. His business world didn’t give a fuck about his personal problems. Work still had to get done, and moves still had to be made. With another meeting coming up soon, he needed to be sharp.
The client wanted to see progress, updated renderings, layout revisions, and the latest notes from a site walk-through. Crown refused to disappoint. His reputation meant everything. He’d been in the game long enough to know that word of mouth was powerful. Treat the right people well, and they’d send everyone they knew his way. Over the years, he’d lost count of the referrals he’d received.
