Page 55 of Just Like Summer

The empty barbershop was on purpose. Sal’s was another place in the hood him and Fredo used to move product and money. Since Tiny took it upon himself to mimic the sauce and get caught up, Cairo knew he wasn’t going to stay quiet. If anything, the next couple weeks were going to be critical. Staying ahead of the game was how Cairo managed to fly under the radar for now.

“We need to unload?” Sal questioned.

“Everything. Give them to Tres. Let him flood the streets. He needs something to do other than drink, fuck, and talk shit,” Cairo spoke. “I’ve already set it up.”

“Update on the niggas that went up with Tiny?” Sal asked.

“Mountain Lions picking at them. Should’ve chose the right side,” Cairo muttered.

“Damn, you didn’t let none of ‘em come back down?” Sal blew.

Cairo opened his eyes and looked at Sal. The chilling look in Cairo’s eyes reminded him that even through Cairo’s newfound lightheartedness, he was still forged in the fire by killers. Tiny survived off the strength he’d been too close to Cairo. He could also slip out of whatever Tiny thought he was going to set up for him. The other niggas he left with would run their mouths and create a mountain of issues he’d spend more time than he wanted cleaning up.

“Aight,” Sal stated, understanding every word Cairo didn’t speak. “Got you.”

Sal finished up the haircut, took the money from Cairo, and headed to the back of the shop to start making moves to get everything stashed to Tres.

“You sure you want Tres to have all this work?” Nate asked.

Cairo avoided the mirror. He wanted the first time he saw himself after letting go of the trauma he wore to be through her eyes. Checking his phone for the two texts he requested from Kamilla, he gave Nate his attention.

“Absolutely. We call that el karma. His wickedness returned. We all got our shit coming back to us. This is his,” Cairo spoke, heading toward the door. “We gotta be at the club by eleven. I’m not trying to be out all night.”

“You did say you were getting that nigga back one way or another,” Nate spoke with a chuckle.

“I told you. That bitch almost burnt down my granny’s house,” Cairo grumbled, the mere thought of his ex, caused his jaw to clench.

Nate shook his head. “You got a thing for crossing the blocks to get your women.”

“First of all nigga, fuck you. She was frontin’, can’t blame me that my vice is someone pretty with soft features these niggas ain’t ran through. Second, she got off light. I kept Sapphire off her ass for real. She knew once the fire started to get her ass the fuck on. But Tres, for every dollar he paid her to try to take me out, I owe him back ten times over,” Cairo shared. “Apparently, blowing up his fuckin’ Impala with that ratty ass dog in it wasn’t enough. That’s cool, though. Give him the work, have a bitch drop it off. Since he can’t think without his dick in his hand.”

Thinking about the past always seemed to put him in a mood that made felonious thoughts run rabid without restraint. What smothered the flame of aggravation was knowing that Kamilla was in his house waiting on him.

“Where you headed now?” Nate posed. “You not about to blow something else up, are you?”

“K’s hungry. She’s been working all day. I’m going to handle that. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Nigga, you in love?” Nate asked, knowing the answer.

Cairo didn’t offer him an answer, instead he walked out of the barbershop, got in his car and headed to the Chinese spot. After picking up the order she called in, Cairo pulled up to his house eager to get inside.

“Mariposa,” he called out, his raspy voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

From the small living room, he could see bedroom door open. Securing the door behind him and placing the food down on the space table, he moved down the hall, finding her studying herself in the foggy mirror.

“Damn,” he blew at her petite body clad in a form-fitting blue dress. She stood on her tiptoes as if she were talking herself out of wearing it.

Kamilla’s eyes found his and immediately, the worry melted away.

“Damn yourself.” She nipped her lip as her eyes lit up. “Wow.”

“Oh, come on, a nigga wasn’t beastly,” he grumbled, fighting the smile she could see in its fullness.

Kamilla closed the space between them and reached up to touch his face. Automatically, his hands rested on her waist and his neck craned so she could inspect his newness with ease. Everything that was motivating him was for her ease.

“No,” Kamilla spoke, just above a whisper. “Never beastly. Weighted, protected, healing. But this…damn.”

“You like it?” he mused.