Of course, I clicked his contact and called him back because it could’ve been an emergency.
“Where are you, baby mama?” he asked as soon as he picked up.
“Just leaving the shop. What’s up?”
“Pull up on me.”
I laughed. “And why would I do that?”
He chuckled as well. “Because I asked nicely and it’s something important that I need to talk to you about.” At first, he sounded like he was in a joking mood, but the sudden seriousness in his tone made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I still cared about him, because at the end of the day we had Messiah, so of course I was naturally worried.
“I’m not pulling up on no block, Argus.”
“I already know that. Pull up to the pool hall on Mason. Park in the back. Big G should be right there waiting on you.”
“What the fuck is going on, Argus?”
“Please, lil’ one,” he begged. His stubborn ass didn’t do that often, so I knew something was up.
“Fine.” After I hung up with him, I pulled out of the parking lot and drove in the direction of where he wanted me to meet him. I also dialed my father and let him know that I’d be running late. He said that it was cool because my baby was knocked out anyway.
When I pulled up where he told me to pull up, I did as he asked, right before meeting G’s big ass at the door.
“You too bourgeois to be hanging out with the fam, lil’ Nard?” Big G always called me lil’ Nard because around these parts everybody knew my father. Just because he wasn’t in the streets anymore didn’t mean his legend didn’t ring bells.
“It isn’t even like that. I just work a lot.” I followed him further into the empty pool hall.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Immediately my eyes focused on Argus seated in the booth by himself under the dim light. When I rounded the area, I saw that he had a bottle of Jameson in front of him and a single cup. Something was wrong, but I was too afraid to ask. Instead, I slid into the booth across from him and just looked at him. He was a shell of himself, and it didn’t take for me to look him in his eyes to see that.
After a while he finally looked up at me. “Should’ve probably listened to you when Ssiah was born. Told you I ain’t want to live check to check or work for nobody and I meant that. Street shit gets addictive, then when it gets you right where it wants you everything goes wrong. Built me up and made me feel invincible but the game is rigged, and no nigga is meant to make it out alive unless they get out too soon and regret it. I got cocky and fu?—”
“Stop talking in riddles, Argus. What’s wrong?”
“I gotta fall on my sword, because I got too cocky out here.” We locked eyes and immediately I knew what he meant, but I still had to ask.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re going to take me to turn myself in right after I finish this bottle. You ain’t gonna cry, because you knew this shit was coming. In a few days you’ll receive some paperwork with all my investments and everything else.”
“Argus.” He was talking too fast, and my brain was no longer comprehending what he was saying.
“I always thought you was going to come back to me, but I fucked around and gotta leave before you can.” He shook his head.
“How long?”
“Two counts of life.” The moment that word came out of his mouth I felt my heart fall into my stomach.
Life.
“They only give life if yo?—”
“Deal went bad. It was a setup. I had to get out of there, so I popped them and didn’t think shit of it until I got picked up and those motherfuckers claim I killed two undercovers. I gotta fall on the sword, so I won't take my organization down with me.”
I shook my head, willing my tears to stay in my lids. “And you’re still protecting the very streets that are sending you away.”
“Nah. I'm sending me away. I know what I did.”
