I swipe at my wet forehead with my gun and clutch the folder harder. “I don’t need no appointment to talk to you about shit.”
“So, what is it then? You got a minute to plead your case and get your black ass off my porch before I let this shotgun talk for me and do what Jamari should’ve done.”
I huff out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I laugh harder, wagging my gun towards his door. “You know, something I’ve learned about you over these past two months is that…you…you ain’t no killer, nigga.”
“Watch m?—”
I push my hand against the door, forcing it open while he cocks the shotgun and stumbles back into his foyer. It’s another opulently decorated foyer like the one Faye said he had on his ranch with knickknacks and family pictures hanging up of him, his wife, and kids in matching outfits.
He holds the shotgun like it weighs a thousand pounds while his robe hangs open and his hairy stomach pokes out over the waistband of his sweatpants. He doesn’t look like the Melo Barnes I saw pacing around at Lucky’s, right now he just looks like a regular ole’ nigga that has too much power and still wantstoo much control—a nigga that’s scared of me despite coming from the same place I came from.
“You need to get out my house. My wife and kids are upstairs?—”
I hold up the folder. “Two million. That’s what you wanted, right?”
I toss it at his feet. “It’s all there.”
His eyes graze the folder, and his eyebrows shoot up at the logo on the front of it. He squats down, flicking it open and eyeing the checks with his name on them.
“Consider it the Lovelaces’lastdonation to the Barnes campaign.”
“Where the fuck a nigga like you get two million dollars from?” he asks.
“Don’t worry about it. They ain’t gon’ bounce. I’m good for it.”
He picks up the checks, eyeing them, then eyeing me while I take a step back.
“What’s that you told me?” I ask. “Thisyourneighborhood?Yourship? You got parks around this bitch named after you?”
His nostrils flare as he crumples the checks in his hand.
“This place wasneveryours.” I chuckle. “Tell your Big Mama that her pussy-ass grandson was always the rotten root.”
~The End~
EPILOGUE
One Month Later
December 31, 2024
Las Vegas, Nevada
RICH
Senior saysI’m domesticated now.
He says he was the same way with Faye when they were younger, and I think I know what he means. I get excited for all the boring shit that happens when you’re in love—like going to bed and waking up with Slim, watching her put on makeup, and staring at her wander through racks of clothes in stores I’ve never even wanted to step foot in before. Now I can’t sleep unless her skin is touching mine. I know that foundation goes before concealer. I know what time Saks closes by heart, and I know the difference between a clutch and a shoulder bag.
I grab hold of the edge of our bed to shove my feet in the loafers Slim brought home for me yesterday while our building sways and my stomach fumbles.
“Up first at ten—looks like there’s trouble for newly elected District D councilman, Melo Barnes. Several members of the Bayou Crest community are accusing the councilman of heinous crimes, such as drug trafficking, assault, and some even say extortion. More after the break,” the newscaster drones from my phone that’s perched on top of our dresser.
Howling wind echoes through our apartment and makes my eyes dart toward the floor to ceiling windows in our bedroom.
