Page 58 of Gang of Roses: Rebel

Nico stared at me before shaking his head. “You trippin’.”

“Nah,” I said firmly. “What’s crazy is thinking I’m gonna stand by and watch y’all destroy each other when neither one of you got enough sense to walk away.”

Nico said, “My brother said you always been a flaky nigga.”

That was it. The second words left his mouth, every ounce of patience I had disappeared. He had crossed a line he had no business crossing. Mentioning his scary-ass brother, the same nigga who folded under pressure, ran his mouth to the police, and shaved years off his own sentence by putting my black ass behind bars for five years, wasn’t something I took lightly. My jaw tightened. For a moment, I just stared at him from across from my desk. Then I slowly leaned forward and rested my forearms on the desk.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Nico shifted in his chair but held my gaze.

“I said my brother always thought you was flaky.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“Your brother?”

I shook my head. “That’s the nigga you wanna quote?”

The office suddenly felt smaller. “The same nigga who told the police everything they wanted to hear to save his own ass? The same nigga who put me behind bars for five years?”

Nico’s expression hardened. “That’s still my brother.”

“And he’s still a rat.”

Silence filled the room as I leaned back in my chair and pointed at him.

“So, I really don’t give a fuck what your brother thinks about me. Now get out my shop, man.”

I stood up from the desk and headed toward my office, figuring I’d cool off and get back to work before things got any uglier. Instead of leaving like I told him to, the nigga followed behind me and talkin’ shit. The crazy part was he knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to get under my skin, to provoke me in front of everybody standing around the shop. The problem was, I wasn’t the type of nigga to let disrespect slide, blood or not.

Before I opened this shop, before I went legit, I was heavy in these streets. My name carried weight for a reason. Back then, disrespect got handled immediately. There wasn’t no back-and-forth arguing, no social media posts, and no warning shots. You either stood on what you said or dealt with the consequences. I got right in Nico’s face.

“Nigga, don’t ever compare me to your rat-ass brother.”

The smirk vanished. “Crow⁠—”

“Nah, let me finish.” I paused and then continued. “Five years. That’s what his scary ass cost me. Five years away from my family, my money, and my freedom because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. So, before you start talking reckless, remember who the fuck you’re talking to.”

The entire shop went silent, and every eye in the garage was locked on us, but Nico still couldn’t shut the fuck up. Even after everybody else had enough sense to mind their business, he kept running his mouth like he had something to prove. That was his mistake.

Before he could get another word out, I stepped into him and drove my right fist straight into his jaw. The crack echoed through the garage. His head snapped to the side. A split second later, I followed it with a left hook that caught him near the temple. Nico stumbled backward before crashing onto the concrete floor. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he stared up at the ceiling, looking more shocked than hurt. The shop remained dead quiet. Nobody moved or said a damn word. I stood over him for a second, my chest rising and falling as years of frustration simmered beneath my skin.

“Now maybe you’ll learn when to shut the fuck up.”

Without another glance, I turned and walked away. My boots echoed across the concrete as I headed back toward my office, leaving Nico on the floor to think about every stupid word that had come out of his mouth. As I passed the front desk, my eyes landed on my receptionist. She was sitting there wide-eyed, phone still clutched in her hand. Judging by the guilty look on her face, I already knew she’d called Rebel the second the argument started. The reason why is because she and I use to have a sexual relationship, and she assumed I called it off because of my friendship with Rebel.

I pointed at her. You.”

She immediately sat up straighter. “Yes.”

“Come here,” I demanded.

“C-Crow, I was just⁠—“

“Now.”

She swallowed hard and quickly stood from her chair. The second I stepped through the doorway, I held it open and motioned for her to come inside so I could discuss her playing games.