“That’s– that’s what I want to talk to you about, man.”
“Your phone?”
“At the office as promised.”
Anthony pulled out a chair at the bar. I sipped from my glass as I watched him attempt to sit. He struggled to get his right leg on the cushion.
“Shit.”
“My computer and printer were giving me trouble the other day at the office. Your computer was my last resort. I logged in after an attempt or two. Can’t quite remember.”
“Wh– what– is– Jos–”
Disgusted by Anthony’s presence, I set my glass on the counter. I stepped closer, watching him struggle to sit. His efforts were in vain.
WHAM.
I drew back and then pushed forward with a closed fist. It landed between Anthony’s mouth and nose. Blood gushed from them both instantly. His body crashed to the ground like a sack of bricks.
“The– the fuck man?”
The concoction in his drink had weakened him. His limbs were useless. So was his life, in my opinion.
“Imagine my surprise once I clicked on the folders named after my fucking niece,” I gritted.
“Josiah. This is me. It’s– Man, it’s me.”
“Nigga, it could be God and he’ll still get it behind that one.”
“I can–” he slurred, hands in the air, “explain.”
“Ain’t shit you can tell me that’ll make this shit right. Ain’t shit you can tell me that’ll save your life.”
“I’m in debt.” He revealed. “Big debt.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with my niece?”
“I wouldn’t– I’d never– I love her. I just– I owe people.”
“Your problem. Not hers.”
“It’s not that sim– simple.”
“It’s always that simple, motherfucker.”
My loafer crashed into his face, causing further damage.
“Urgh. Fuck!”
“Did Janeese know?”
“What?” He groaned, tears cascading down his eyes.
I didn’t give a fuck. He wouldn’t be in pain for much longer. Soon, he wouldn’t feel a thing. And, as much as I wanted to put a bullet in his head and end his suffering, I considered how much suffering and discomfort Aubrey had experienced.
“Did she fucking know?”
“No!” He belted. “No. She’d– She’d hate me.”
