Her crying turned louder.
“You told him we robbed him!” I screamed. “That’s why his people started coming for us!”
“Koko, please—”
“No!” I barked. “We didn’t know none of that shit when you called us to Dallas crying and begging for help!” My chest heaved violently as the rest continued clicking together inside my head. “You played us.”
Giani folded herself into a ball.
“You had us out there blind. Booda and I were getting real fucking money! We didn’t give a damn about niggas moving to our hoods to hustle because we forced them to buy their dope from us, and we taxed.” My voice shook, rage and disbelief crashing together. “That whole fucking war started because of you.”
“I was scared!” she cried.
“Stop lying, bitch! Own up to your shit. I got shot because of you!” I screamed back.
The room went silent after that. Dead silent.
I stared at her while the memory replayed again in my head. The gunfire. The chaos. The pain ripping through my body. Then Rich was standing over me the same way I’d done to him.
“He shot me in the head because you told him where I would be.” I paused for a moment.
“Only you knew…” A tear slipped from my eye. “Because you set up the sale between me and your cousins from upstate. I believed you because we’d done business with them before, and I never thought you’d betray me.”
Giani’s face twisted violently as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen!” she screamed.
“You lying ass bitch!” I lunged for her again, but this time, Giani fought back.
Her hands flew into my face, nails scratching across my skin as we rolled into the coffee table together. The mirrored tray crashed to the floor, glass shattering while candles rolled across the carpet.
“Get off me!” she shrieked.
I grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard enough to drag a scream out of her throat.
“You ruined my fucking life!” I shouted.
“No!” she cried, thrashing wildly beneath me. “You ruined your own being greedy! You never deserved Booda or the life he provided for you,” she said, and before I knew what happened, something hard cracked the side of my head.
Pain exploded instantly, and I rolled off her, my vision blurring as I grabbed the side of my skull. A heavy decorative statue slipped from Giani’s trembling hand and hit the floor with a dull thud beside the broken glass.
“Fuck—” I groaned, the room tilting violently as Giani scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door.
“Giani!” I yelled as I slowly stood and stumbled after her.
Another sharp wave of pain slammed through my head as the front door flew open. By the time I reached it, she was halfway across the breezeway.
“Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help me!”
My breathing turned ragged as I braced myself against the doorway. The migraine building inside my skull felt vicious. Hot pressure spread behind my eyes while my balance threatened to give out completely.
Still, I lifted the gun. Aimed. And pulled the trigger.
The gunshot ripped through the complex, and Giani jerked forward violently before collapsing onto the concrete. Silence followed for half a second, then screams started somewhere below.
I staggered down the breezeway toward her, one hand pressed against my head while the other kept the gun aimed low at my side. My vision kept blurring in and out, but I forced myself to keep moving until I finally reached her.
Giani groaned weakly as blood spread beneath her, and I used my foot to roll her onto her back.
