“He asked me about Hyphen.”
“And what you tell ‘em?”
“I told him where he could find her.”
“Where she lives?”
“Her street. I don’t know the address.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Cause he said he was your brother.”
Her words caught me by the throat, but I managed to shake loose.
“Nigga not no kin to me.”
I turned, waving my gun in the air.
“Felicia, come whoop this hoe,” I yelled.
“Flocco, man. You said if I talked then y–”
“You talked too fucking much, Hot Dog.”
As Felicia approached, I peeled a twenty from my wad. Fuck ten. I wanted her to put some work in.
“Make sure she has to drink out of a straw for the next six months.”
“Got it, Boss.”
Felicia took the money from my hand and used the wrapper on her wrist to tie the few pieces of hair on her head into a ponytail. By the time she finished, Hot Dog had taken off in the other direction.
Felicia prepared to hawk her ass down. I made my way to the middle of the square. I climbed onto the hood of my car, pistol still by my side.
“Public service fucking announcement,” I yelled, garnering everyone’s attention. Sully shut off the stereo.
“From this day forward, any motherfucker looking for, looking at, or thinking ‘bout Hyph is a dead man. I put that on my Pops. If they looking for her, send them my way! Any nigga. Any bitch. I’m not discriminating.
“And the next motherfucker open their mouths to tell anyone where she lays her head, prepare to lay down. Ain’t no getting back up, doe. Play a foolish game and get a bullet to your brain.”
I hopped onto the cement.
“I’m out this bitch, Sully.”
“Understood.”
I got in my whip and started the engine. I bent one corner after the other until I was at my crib. With a seamless entrance, I managed to get into my bedroom within seconds of pulling into my driveway. On the edge of my bed, I pulled open the drawer that contained a core memory. The one most important to me.
The cell was dead. I dug through the drawer to find a charger but couldn’t. The next drawer didn’t have one either. Neither did the third one. I left the nightstand, heading for the kitchen.
Fuck.
I pulled the junk drawer open. Wasn’t shit in that motherfucker useful at the moment. Instead of wasting more time, I exited the house and hopped back in my ride. At the corner store, I leaped out, not bothering to open the door.
Reminders of the last day I saw Hyphen was all over the front end of my car. It was only a matter of time before a new grill was delivered. It would be the first piece I assembled in my new shop. My father’s shop. I was a week away from closing. After going back and forth in negotiations, we settled on a price thatI was comfortable with. The paperwork was getting pushed. The time was near.
“What’s up, Flocco?”
