SAVAGE

16

June 

The weather grew slightly warmer, which caused the residents of Manhattan to shed out of their thick coats and trade them in for hoodies and thin jackets. However, the temperature would drop at night, but the New Yorkers didn't seem to mind.

Jersey padded down the sidewalk as she held on to her bag tightly. She tried her best to stay calm, but the nervousness and excitement overwhelmed her. Her heart drummed expeditiously as she bit down on her bottom lip.

Instead of going on home, she decided to reward herself with a treat. Jersey walked inside this small greasy spoon and took a seat at one of the empty booths, located by the window.

She sat there and looked around, capturing her surroundings. The greasy spoon was like any other diner. The place had affordable prices, booths, tables with chairs, and it was overly decorated. The diner held the smell of fried food, which wasn't too bad.

Jersey sunk into her booth while covering her face with the large, laminated menu. She was trying to decide on what would be good for her to eat. However, she had to be cautious since she almost had a closed throat from eating at Patruno's Pizzeria.

Today was a great day for Jersey, surprisingly. After suffering from her period and spending most of her time lounging around the apartment, she decided to get out and get some fresh air.

Jersey contemplated heavily on her decision to enroll in college. She wanted to obtain a degree while young, but she had her doubts. The twenty-two-year old woman wasn't exactly financially sufficient, so she didn't want to be buried in student loans. However, she figured she could at least setup a payment plan after graduating college.

Instead of enrolling in a four-year college, Jersey decided to settle for a two-year community college. She made sure to Google some colleges nearby and examine each and every one thoroughly. After narrowing down her search, she picked one community college that stood out to her—Manhattan Community College. It was affordable, had great reviews, and many programs to choose from.

Before enrolling, Jersey scheduled a campus tour. She wanted to make sure the college was right for her. She was filled with excitement because she knew that this would be a big step for her. She planned on enrolling in legal studies and pursing her dream of becoming a paralegal.

After registering for the college tour, Jersey took a quick shower, threw on some clothes, moisturized her hair, and grabbed her bag that contained her phone, money, and keys. She jumped on the next available bus and stayed on until she was at her stop. Jersey spent most of her time walking around and window shopping. Eventually, she stopped at the nearest diner for a bite to eat.

"Can't decide on what you want?"

Jersey frowned in suspense as her fingers tighten around the edges of the menu. The strange person interrupted her thoughts. Slowly, she pulled it down and peered over at the person before her.

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she parted her lips to speak. Before she could say anything, the waitress stopped by and asked to take both of their orders.

"I'll have a coke with the turkey bacon omelet—extra crispy with cheese."

Jersey frowned at the stranger but quickly straighten up when the waitress placed the attention on her.

"Uh—I'll have a root beer float with the steak and eggs meal. Can you make sure my steak is well done? I also want my eggs sunny side up—if that's not too much."

"Gotcha." The waitress chirped as she scribbled down the order.

"D-does the root beer come with cinnamon?"

The waitress placed her eyes on Jersey and couldn't help but to lift an eyebrow. She figured Jersey was one of those picky consumers.

"Ma'am, it's a root beer float. Root beer floats don't come with cinnamon." She assured Jersey, trying to plaster on a fake smile.

"Oh, well...great." Jersey replied naively and awkwardly. "I just wanted to make sure. I'm allergic to cinnamon and nuts."

"Be back with your orders." The waitress commented while marching away from the table. She made sure to roll her eyes hard as she stomped over to turn the orders in.

Jersey swallowed the lump in her throat as she tried to relax herself. Unfortunately, that was hard to do. She placed her eyes on the man that sat across from her.

He carried a sinister smirk on his face as he leaned back, one of his long arms hugged the top of the booth. His caramel skin was smooth and delectable. Still, he managed to rock those same baby locks. His beard was trimmed nicely, showing off his suck-able lips.

"You allergic to cinnamon and nuts, huh?" He questioned her nosily while leaning over. His question didn't sound concerning at all. In fact, it sounded too intimidating.

Jersey cleared her throat while sitting up straight. Instead of answering his question, she decided to ask him one. "Wh-what do you want?"

It took him a minute answer since he was too busy checking her out. He leaned back and said, "I was around and... I spotted you. I've been waiting to catch you alone so we can talk."

"We have something to talk about?" She asked him, surprised.

"Yeah, we do."

Before they could finish their debate, the waitress walked over and set down their beverages. Quickly, Jersey surveyed the root beer float. It was settled in a tall, mug with root beer soda and ice cream. The mug was overflowing since some of the liquid could been visibly seen cascading down the sides.

"Your orders should be finished soon." The waitress announced as she walked away once again.

Jersey okayed her softly and placed her attention on the man before her. He was busy sipping some of his coke. After wetting his throat, he looked over at Jersey and scoffed.

She narrowed her eyes at him and couldn't help but to clear her throat as she adjusted her body in the booth. Jersey parted her lips before speaking. "D-does uh, Malcolm know that you're stalking me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and said, "I'm not stalking you at all."

"Then what do you call this, Micah? So, you really expect me to believe that you just so happen to be in the Upper East?"

Micah bit down on his bottom lip as he looked outside of the large window. The sidewalks were busy with bustling people who had places to go. He looked over at her, but he didn't speak right off.

"Why the f**k are you still around?" He interrogated her, getting to the point.

Jersey was taken aback by his question.

"And what do you mean by that?"

The waitress moseyed over with their hot meals. Their conversation seized when they noticed her and that lazed voice.

"A turkey bacon omelet—extra crispy with cheese. And I have the steak and eggs meal—well down and sunny side up." She settled both plates down and walked off to serve more customers.

The smell of their pleasant food lingered and danced around their nostrils. Jersey took in her steak and her mouth instantly saturated. The peppery-seasoned steak looked juicy. Her eggs were sunny side up and served with some toast and packaged jam.

"What do I mean by that?" Micah mimicked Jersey while pushing his plate to the side. "What I mean is that you got all the help you need. The debt is paid off, people are resting, and you're still frolicking in the apartment. Why are you still lingering around here?"

Jersey grew defensive as she eyed the handsome man before her. Her nose flared as her fingers tighten around the fork. "Malcolm said I could stay there until I get on my feet. It's really none of your business."

"Cool..." Micah replied simply while nodding his head. "Until you get on your feet. What about your friend?"

Jersey examined him carefully. She didn't understand why he was so worried about her business.

"Her too..." She trailed off.

"I'mma be honest, I don't like you." Micah blurted out while grabbing his plate. He broke into the omelet and took a bite of the tasty meal.

Jersey's mouth gaped. She didn't like the way Micah talked to women—her specifically. He was way too blunt and disrespectful.

"Malcolm is my best friend I don't want him to end up hurt by you."  He continued.

"Wait, I'm lost. Why would I hurt him?" Jersey asked, leaning over for a response.

"You're a crackhead." He answered smoothly. "And he's going out the way to help you and s**t. Eventually, you'll end up turning on him."

Jersey's chest stuttered as she dropped her fork in her plate. She looked around for any ear hustlers as she placed her attention back on Micah. He held a smug on his face as he nibbled on his omelet.

Words couldn't express how angry, embarrassed, and frustrated Jersey was. She couldn't believe that Micah had the audacity to call her a crackhead. She wasn't no crackhead at all. In fact, she was clean and had been for three years.

She pushed her plate away; her appetite was gone.

"I'm not a crackhead—my past is behind me and I don't plan on going back to that lifestyle." Jersey admitted honestly. "And I'm not going to turn on Malcolm, I never planned on doing that."

"I don't trust you." Micah stated clearly while pointing his fork at her. Pieces of his omelet was on the fork. "You're phony and sneaky."

"I don't care that you don't trust me. Hell, I don't trust you either." She retorted back smartly.

"You shaved all of your hair off, thinking that would keep people from remembering you." Micah stated. "Ryder and I peeped you out though and told Malcolm. That's when he admitted to f*****g you."

"I didn't trick him...at all." Jersey stressed out. "He never asked about my past, so I didn't tell him."

"I know your kind..." He trailed off with a head nod. "I f*****g know your kind."

Micah wiped his mouth with a napkin. He reached inside his wallet and pulled out just enough money to cover his meal. He tossed it on the table and peered over at Jersey with hatred in his eyes. He didn't like her, and he wanted her to know that.

"You and your friend need to pack y'all s**t and get out of that apartment." He warned her while sucking his teeth. "Your situation is over—you have no reason to live there now. Enjoy your dry ass steak."

Jersey just sat there feeling embarrassed. She burned with humiliation and anger as she replayed the conversation with Micah over in her head. Instead of staying inside the diner any longer, she reached inside her bag and tossed her money on the table. She wasted no time leaving out and walking halfway down the street to the nearest bus stop.

_____________________________

The bar was very busy since it was happy hour time. People bustled inside for half-priced drinks and to catch the latest game that was displayed on the television screens. Malcolm showed up and decided to help the others with the stocking.

"Malcolm, some guy wants to see you. He says his name is Lorenzo or something like that." Sarai spoke, as she watched the men stock up the back room with alcohol.

Malcolm looked up and placed his brownish eyes on Sarai. He showed no emotion as he made his way to the front. Both Dean and Dock looked over in suspicion. Dock heard about Lorenzo through his sister, Frida, but he didn't know him personally. Dean, on the other hand, didn't know about the man at all.

Malcolm made his way to the front. His heart pumped quickly as his mind raced. He didn't know who he was going to face. It had been years since he laid eyes or even socialized with Lorenzo.

He bypassed the threshold and made his way into the bar area where his customers socialized with one another and grew drunk…drink by drink.

Malcolm stopped dead in his tracks, looking for the kid who had grown into a man. He didn't know what to expect, so he looked around for him. Suddenly, he laid eyes on Lorenzo.

He knew it was him. The birthmark that laid on his cheek gave it away. It was brown, medium-sized, and shaped oddly. Lorenzo was leaning on the counter, talking to some Asian woman who was trying to drink her cocktail. However, Lorenzo was all up on her, trying to get her number.

"You live around here?" Lorenzo questioned her. His high-pitched voice had transitioned into a deep voice.

The Asian woman surveyed him as she tossed her dyed, blonde hair back. Lorenzo was dressed in black t-shirt and sweatpants. He needed a deep treatment and haircut bad since his line was a little crooked and his coiled hair was dry and tangled. In her opinion, he was a bum.

"Leave me alone, please." She begged, wrinkling her wide nose.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that." Lorenzo pleaded as he expertly chewed on his gum. "You don't have to be all bougie and s**t with me. What? You don't like niggas?"

"Lorenzo." Malcolm called out while darting his eyebrows. He didn't like the way the guy was pestering his customer.

Lorenzo looked over at Malcolm with a hardened look. His facial expression soften when he noticed Malcolm. It took him a minute to recognize him, but he smiled when he did.

"It's been a long time, man." Lorenzo spoke as he stood up straight.

"I know." Malcolm replied while looking over at the Asian who kept her eyebrows furrowed. "Come have a seat with me and stop badgering my customer, man."

"I was just trying to get to know her, that's all." Lorenzo spoke as he followed behind Malcolm. "You know how it is when you're locked up for so long."

"No, I don't." Malcolm replied as he took a seat in one of his booths. Lorenzo took a seat across from him, he paid no attention to Malcolm's remark.

"You're a successful man..." Lorenzo trailed off as he looked around the bar. It was well-established and organized. The place was beautifully decorated and clean. "How did you do it?"

Malcolm and Lorenzo hung out a lot when they were younger. Malcolm didn't let him know about his goals. In fact, he didn't know what he wanted to do at the time.

"I worked...for all of this." Malcolm informed him as he rested his right arm on top of the booth.

"Must be nice to own your own business..." Lorenzo commented.

"Very nice." Malcolm replied while causally looking around. "How did you find my place?"

"I have my ways." He replied while shrugging his shoulders. "And plus, I heard you serve nothing but the best."

"I do." Malcolm concurred nonchalantly. "Let me get you something to drink. What would you like?"

"I don't know, man." Lorenzo shrugged his shoulders. "You decide for me."

Malcolm had to remind himself that Lorenzo had been locked up for many years. He didn't know s**t about alcohol.

"I got you." Malcolm called for Sarai, who was busy wiping tables. She looked over at him and immediately walked over.

"Well, damn." Lorenzo cursed as he eyed Sarai lustfully. He noticed how pretty and thin she was. Her long hair was pulled into a ponytail.

"My employees are off limits as well, Renzo." Malcolm warned him while shaking his head. He didn't want him trying Sarai. She didn't need to be involved with Lorenzo and all of his craziness.

"Respect."

Sarai rolled her eyes and said, "What you need, Malcolm?"

"A Moscow and a Scotch." He replied with ease. Sarai obediently walked over and turned their orders in to Dean who was behind the counter, fixing drinks.

"It's good to see you after all of these years, man." Lorenzo spoke. "You know I've been locked up for quite a while. I spent half of my time in a mental institution, but I'm good now. I'm out."

Lorenzo didn't look too good. He was younger than Malcolm—maybe twenty-three, but he looked older. Guilt took over him and tortured him every night. He couldn't stop thinking about the night he murdered his brother with a butcher's knife.

The craziness was visible in his eyes and Malcolm couldn't help but to notice the old, brown scars that decorated his slender arms.

"Where you staying?" Malcolm asked him.

"With my pops and his new wife." Lorenzo answered while shaking his head. "He said I can stay with them as long as I continue to work at the church. I'm not trying to do that s**t for long, though."

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows at the young guy. He couldn't believe that Lorenzo didn't want to work at the church. He assumed the job wasn't too tough.

"What you mean, man?"

"His new wife don't care that much for me. That's why I'm coming to you. I'm tryna get my own s**t, you know."

Malcolm leaned back, he figured Lorenzo was looking for a favor.

"Coming to me? For what?"

"I need work."

"Work?" Malcolm reiterated.

"Yeah, I need you to help me get on my feet. You're a businessman now. I know you can pull a few strings for me. Get me a job here."

Malcolm shook his head no. He didn't have any work for Lorenzo. He couldn't deliver anything unless he participated in the six-week class. Serving drinks was definitely out of the option box. Malcolm didn't want Lorenzo nowhere near the customer's drinks.

"I don't have any work here for you." Malcolm replied casually as he watched Sarai set down their drinks. She excused herself and got back to work.

"What?" Lorenzo held a disappointed look on his face as he grabbed his drink. "Come on, man. You know me—Renzo. I'm good for it."

"Most of the positions here have certain requirements. Everyone here is certified." Malcolm replied honestly. "But I can help you get a job somewhere else."

"I'll really appreciate it. You know...it's not easy trying to get a job. Especially with a record like mine."

Malcolm sat there in silence, replaying that terrible night over in his head. Lorenzo's clothes were drenched in his baby brother's blood. The officers wasted no time hauling him out.

Lorenzo's face twisted as he tried his best to handle the alcohol. Instead of complaining about it, he took another gulp.

"My mom told me that you stopped by..." Malcolm trailed off.

"Yeah, I got her address from my dad." Lorenzo replied with a head nod. He sat there with an almost empty glass that was filled with ice.

"Don't do that s**t again." Malcolm insisted while shaking his head, catching Lorenzo by surprise. "I don't like everybody knowing where my mom lays her head at. You understand?"

It took Lorenzo a second to answer, but he did nod his head. "I understand. No more pop-ups."

_____________________________

Words don't mean s**t. They're pointless. However, Micah's words offended Jersey. They were more than just words. In her opinion, they dehumanized her. She tried her best ignore him, but it was hard. Micah had his way with words.

Jersey allowed the hot water from the shower to saturate her hair and body. She closed her eyes and ran her slender fingers through her scalp, gently massaging it. Tears poured down her face as she sniffled.

No matter how much she tried to do better, her past always seemed to haunt her. Being an ex-drug addict was hard for her. She felt like she could never bury it. People were always bringing it up and using it as a weapon against her.

She opened her eyes and jumped when she noticed her mom's figure through the translucent shower curtain. She slipped due to the soapy tub and tried catching the curtains. Unfortunately, she ended up hitting the side of her head on the tile.

Both the curtain pole and curtain set on top of Jersey. She laid in the tub with her eyes closed. She tried her best to take the pain that ran through her head.

"Aww..." She moaned while wrinkling her nose. Jersey ran her hand over her head and felt some liquid. She assumed it was water, but when she opened her eyes, she noticed blood on her fingers.

"Oh no!" Jersey yelped out while stepping out of the slippery tub. She tipped over in her nudeness and examined her head in the mirror. Everything was fine—except for the small gash that set on the right side of her temple. It was small, but she was still upset. She didn't want any scars on her face.

"Look at my face." She whined while opening the cabinet and searching for some Band-Aids. She ended up with a first aid kit. Jersey wasted no time cleaning her wound and bandaging it.

She leaned over on the sink. Deeply, she inhaled and exhaled. Jersey had to get herself together before walking out. It had been a minute since she took her medication.

Now she was hallucinating again. Seeing her mother's corpse through the shower curtain. She rubbed her eyes while walking over to fix the curtain. After fixing the curtain, she grabbed her towel off the floor and left out of the bathroom. The cool wind hit her body as she trailed to her room.

Jersey wasted no time taking her medicine. In order to prevent nightmares and hallucinations, she would have to take it faithfully. It was the only way her mind could stay leveled.

After putting her clothes on, she dropped down on the bed and laid there in silence. There was no television in the room, so she was stuck with no entertainment.

She laid there for a while, thinking about what had happened at the diner. Micah was stalking her; she didn't doubt that. For some reason, he assumed Jersey was nothing but a phony bum who was trying to live off Malcolm. But what he failed to realize is that she wasn't that type of woman at all.

In fact, she never bothered Malcolm for favors—only for Rudy and that was it. Other than that, he volunteered to help out.

What angered her the most was the fact that Ryder sold her out to Malcolm. She liked him and felt like he was a good fit for her friend. Also, she liked the way he treated her. However, she figured he was just another two-faced nigga. It wasn't his place to tell Malcolm about her past. Jersey felt betrayed by his treacherous move.

Tick...tock...tick...tock

The clock was bothering her again. She peered over at it, tightening her first in annoyance. Jersey doubled her lips as she stood up and snatched the clock off the wall. The young woman tossed the clock on the ground and smashed it with her foot. The glass broke instantly, which scraped the bottom of her left foot. Blood dropped from the heel of her foot, but she didn't realize it. She was too angry to pay attention to it.

Feeling pumped, Jersey stomped over and snatched her phone off the charger. She searched for Malcolm's name and tapped on it, calling him. The phone rang repeatedly until he picked up.

"Yeah..." He spoke dryly.

"We need to talk." Jersey blurted out with her lips doubled.

Malcolm didn't say anything right off; Jersey could hear him talking to someone in the background.

"...I'm busy right now." He replied coolly.

"Well, I don't care. Tell your crazy ass friend, Micah to stay the f**k away from me!" She raised her voice. "I don't need him clocking my every move! And if you put him up to this then fine! I'll fine somewhere else to go. I don't need to stay in your apartment!"

Jersey ended the call and tossed her phone on the bed. She stomped over to the closet and pulled her bags out. The young woman wasted no time stuffing her clothes inside the bags. She pulled her stuff out of the drawers and sloppily tossed them in her bag. She ran upon her missing EpiPen and made sure to pack them.

After putting most of her things in the bag, she grew tired. She stumbled over to the bed and dropped down on it, pulling the blanket over her body. Her eyes shut as she fell into a deep sleep.

_____________________________

"Is there anything else you would like for me to do?" Candace questioned her boss as she sat across from him. She was Malcolm's assistance. He called her in earlier to handle a few business calls for him.

She looked over at him and noticed the frustration stitched across his handsome face. Malcolm sat across from her; his manly fingers rubbed against his beard as he sat in deep thought.

Malcolm was a little upset and thrown off by Jersey's sudden call. He didn't understand why Micah was f*****g with her. Her accusations pissed him off to the bone. He didn't like being accused of doing s**t, so that really got to him. He was going to handle everything.

He sighed before speaking, parting his thick, brown lips. "I'm going to give you my phone. I want you to handle everything until tomorrow. If the contractors call, make sure to schedule a meeting with them."

He pulled out his BlackBerry—his business phone and Candace wasted no time grabbing it. She was pretty dedicated to her job and would surely do whatever Malcolm wanted her to do.

"Alright, considered it already handled."

"Arthur's number is in there. Call him and tell him to bring my car around."

"Okay." Candace replied as she got right on it.

Malcolm excused himself and made his way out of his office. He found himself in the back room where Dock was busy talking to Morgan.

"Well, maybe you should ask him and see. I really need the money, daddy."

Dock raised his eyebrows and tucked his hands into his pockets. He looked over at his nephew and said, "Ask him yourself."

"Ask me what?" Malcolm voiced with a frown on his face. He wasn't in the mood for Morgan's bullshit. Jersey had already beat her there.

He leaned his head to the side and waited for a response. Morgan looked over at her dad and he nodded his head, which meant go ahead.

"I need my job back." Morgan announced as she placed her hands on her thick hips. She had traded in her long weave for a long, straight ponytail.

His nose flared in aggravation as he stood there mentally contemplating. Malcolm ended up firing Morgan off after the fight she had with Jersey. He didn't want it to lead to that, but she started throwing insults his way. Before he could think, he told her to pack her s**t and get the f**k out of his bar. Yes, Dock was feeling some type of way. Hence his reason for checking Jersey. 

"I'll think about it." He replied simply.

Dock drew his eyebrows together, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't tell Malcolm what to do since he did own the bar. However, he didn't like how his nephew was going about it.

"Wait a minute." Morgan halted him from leaving. She stuck her dark hand out, pointing her long, gorgeous nails in his face. "You fired me, but you didn't fire that bald-headed b***h and now when I come to you, asking for my job back, you tell me that you're going to think about it. What the f**k, Malcolm?"

"I'm not in the mood for none of this s**t. Like I said—I'll think about it."

Malcolm continued to walk away. While crossing over the threshold, he couldn't help but to hear his cousin and her smart remarks. Instead of taking the bait, he left her to argue by herself.

Candace left, which was a good thing. Malcolm locked up his office and proceeded to leave the bar. When he walked out, he noticed that Arthur was on the driver's side of his Jag. He opened the passenger door and hopped right in.

"Take me to Manhattan." Malcolm replied simply as he buckled up. He was savage nigga, but he made sure he followed the safety rules. His life mattered more.

_____________________________

Malcolm walked inside the apartment and examined everything. He knew that Kelli was gone since her car wasn't in the parking lot. What he didn't know is that she worked in a salon—her sister's salon in Brooklyn.

"Wait right here." He told Arthur, leaving him in the living room. Arthur nodded his head as he took a seat on the couch.

Malcolm traveled inside the clean—yet quiet apartment until he stood in front of Jersey's door. It was halfway open, but he could see her clearly. She was laid in her bed with her comforter wrapped around her body.

Malcolm pushed the door open as he silently surveyed everything. Bags were sitting beside the dresser with clothes hanging out of them sloppily. He assumed she had started packing since she claimed to be leaving on the phone.

He frowned when noticed blood on the carpet. It wasn't a lot, but it still stained his fresh carpet. He didn't like that at all. His eyes trailed over to the clock that was now on the floor and covered in blood as well.

"She broke my f*****g clock." Malcolm cursed, doubling his lips.

He neared her, checking her out as well. Jersey's foot dangled from the bed. It had dried up blood and it was kind of crusty from her not moisturizing her feet after showering. Malcolm frowned up as he put the pieces together. She broke his clock with her foot.

"Yo, get up." He ordered while leaning over to tap her.

Jersey moved around, stirring in her sleep. She never tried to open her eyes at all. She was still being controlled by her sleepiness.

"I said, wake the f**k up." Malcolm repeated as he raised his voice.

Jersey's eyes fluttered as she moved around on the bed. She didn't stop until she laid on her back. When her eyes opened, she noticed that Malcolm was standing over her.

Suddenly, butterflies grew in the pit of her stomach as she watched him and his handsomeness. His tall and muscular physique was a sight to see. Malcolm's haircut was fresh, and he sported those deep, defined waves. His beard—thick and healthy. That brown complexion of his was glowing, which was surprising since he consumed a lot of alcohol. Those eyes...those rare eyes always did something to Jersey. Those honey-colored eyes had green specks in them. Hypnotizing specks that made her wet. Real wet.

"What's going on?" She questioned him with a frown on her beautiful face.

"You tell me..." Malcolm trailed off as he stood there looking good in his hoodie and jeans. The Jordan 1's looked nice and fresh on his feet. There were no visible signs of any creases. He wore a simple chain on his neck and a non-luxury looking watch that sat on his right wrist. That same pinky ring sat on his finger. He always kept it there. The only time he did remove it was when he took showers.

"You leaving now?" He replied with a question while throwing his hand up, pointing towards the bags.

Jersey darted her eyes over at her bag and placed her eyes back on Malcolm. "Yeah, I'm leaving."

Malcolm wasn't about to play with Jersey. He was too old to be dealing with her childish behavior.

"There's no reason for me to stay here." Jersey continued in her groggily voice. "You and your friend...your pesky friend. You two are weird. If you wanted me out of your apartment, you should have told me no when I asked to stay here. You didn't have to send the message through Micah."

Malcolm drew his eyes together as he watched her. She laid on the bed, perched up with the help of her elbows. Suddenly, she felt frightened by his expression. He looked as if he wanted to snatch her up and choke the life out of her.

He could do it. He was able to get away with it. His physique and reputation would definitely let him slide with her murder.

She looked over at his large hands, they were balled into a tight fist. Jersey slowly gulped her spit, the little she had in her mouth since it was dry from sleeping.

"I know how to tell you to get the f**k out of my crib if I wanted you out." Malcolm started as he tucked both of his hands into his pocket. He stood there wearing a scowl, pissed off from the accusation.

"I didn't tell Micah to send a message—he did that himself." He continued while leaning over to get eye contact. Jersey tried to look away, she didn't like looking at his eyes whenever he was upset.

"Don't you ever accuse me of shit." He lectured her while pointing his finger. "I hate that s**t. The next time you do it, I won't be so nice."

Jersey grimaced as she tried to stand up. "What the fuc—" she stopped in her tracks when she noticed that her crusty foot was covered in dried up blood. A large gash was visible and it pretty much hurt.

"Yeah, your dense ass broke my clock. I expect you to pay for another one." He replied, examining the bandage she wore on the side of her face.

Jersey rolled her eyes and said, "It was driving me crazy."

"Damn, you that mental you can't stand a clock?"

She rolled her eyes while slowing getting out of the bed. Her tank top rolled up, showing off her small breast. Malcolm got a quick glance and couldn't help but to look elsewhere. She had perfect breasts. They were perky, small, with large, brown n*****s.

Quickly, she pulled it down and cleared her throat. She noticed that he had looked away from her slight nudeness.

"I still think your friends are treacherous." Jersey continued. "Ryder...he—he told you about me and Micah put the icing on the cake. Then you, told them that we had s*x. Why did you even say anything?"

"Look, the s**t is old, so don't bring it back up." Malcolm dictated while c*****g his head to the side. He didn't want to hear about what happened between them again.

"But Micah brought it up to me. He's practically stalking me! Telling me that Kelli and I need to pack our stuff and leave." She argued back while limping on her leg. "Tell your friend to leave me the f**k alone!"

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at the woman for a moment. She felt uncomfortable, so she touched her forearm. Her chest heaved from the adrenaline pumping through her body.

"Lower your f*****g voice when you talk to me. I've told that you once before." He remarked, eyeing her intensively. "I'll talk to Micah and straighten him out. In the meantime, clean up this mess, bandage your crusty ass foot."

Jersey gaped her mouth as she watched him leave out. She looked down at her feet and noticed that they needed to be soaked and scrubbed. She didn't have ugly feet at all, they just needed a little care.

Instead of dwelling over Malcolm's witty remark, she decided to clean up her foot.

_____________________________

"I don't understand why you're doing this." Frida told her son as she watched the Caucasian man install a security camera near her front door.

"I'm doing it to protect you and June." He replied simply. "With Lorenzo out and up my ass, I don't know what to expect."

"Come on." Frida coaxed while c*****g her head to the side. A smirk appeared on her face as she surveyed her son. "You really think he's going to come over here and bother me?"

He frowned at his mom; he didn't like how she was acting all playful with him. "I'm taking this s**t serious. Hell yeah, I think he would come over and bother you. Let's not forget that he killed his brother—out of jealousy."

Frida's smirk decreased and she soon nodded her head. "Well, when you put it that way. That night was so...horrible. All of that blood and...and hearing Sadie scream like that. I'm just glad that you didn't take that path."

Malcolm followed his mom as they went into the kitchen. June was inside trying to fix herself something to eat. She stood there dressed in some casual clothes—a t-shirt with some shorts that hugged her small behind. Her hair was braided neatly.

"Lorenzo has a mental issue." Malcolm called out.

"You do too." Frida replied quickly. "You were diagnosed with a bipolar disorder at age eleven."

Malcolm shook his head out of aggravation. His mom was right—he was bipolar. He had been like that as long as he could remember.

"You were different from other kids. Always so damn serious...I don't know why." Frida recalled while surveying her handsome son. "And you still are, but you still stayed on the right path. Although I don't agree with your second life, but you're surviving, and I am proud of you."

"Cool..." Malcolm commented in a low tone.

"But you need to change your lifestyle. I feel like it's time, son." She interjected. "You're about to be twenty-six. Lay off the alcohol and find you a girlfriend."

 Malcolm drawled while leaning on the counter. "I'm not really the dating type—you know that."

"Malcolm likes to juggle multiple women, mama." June reminded her mom as she held a plate in her hand.  "He doesn't know how to settle down."

"Well, that is getting played out." Frida spoke while looking over at her son. "You never brought a woman over for me to meet. I'm not telling you to get married and have me some grand babies because I'm not ready for all of that yet. I'm too damn young. I just...want you to have a companion."

"No thanks, I'm good." He rejected while grabbing a bottle water out of the fridge.

His mom shook her head and said, "Just like your damn daddy. Too damn prideful and whorish to settle down. You'll learn though. Sooner or later you're going to run into a woman who's going to change all of that s**t. Just watch."

"Don't even bring that clown up." Malcolm chided as he thought about his dad. His jumpy dad. Like some other fathers, Malcolm and June's dad was...in and out of their lives.

Mack Anderson was the father of both Malcolm and June. He didn't come around much, but they did know him. Mack owned two gravel pits in the Brooklyn area. He was pretty much successful, but he sucked in the father department; Mack didn't seem too serious about his relationship with Frida. He was an in and out kind of guy.

After Frida gave birth to Malcolm, he left her for another woman. Eventually, he did come back and that's when she became pregnant with June. Around that time, he was basically going back and forth. The cycle stopped when Frida grew tired of his game. When he got cut off from being with her, he stopped the visitation and money altogether. Mack felt like there wasn't no need to even come around if Frida wasn't trying to be with him.

At the time, Mack wasn't really doing too much at that time, so Frida was only able to receive a small amount of child support from him. He didn't gain his gravel pit business(s) until later, but Mack still made an effort to ensure Frida didn't receive a lot of money.

"Well, it's the truth."

"I'm nothing like him." Malcolm disputed as he gulped down his water.

"Don't be comparing my brother to him." June argued back, with a snarl. She didn't care for her father that much either.

"I'm just saying." Frida voiced while holding her hands out. "You're more supportive than him, but you did get your whorish ways from him. You don't know how to settle down. You're scared of commitment."

"He doesn’t have s**t to do with me being me." Malcolm cursed while shaking his head. "I'm not settling down because I'm young and I don't want to have no responsibilities like that. So, just leave it alone."

"You're also stubborn like him." Frida continued with her antics. Malcolm gave her a look that made her want to slap him. "But I'll leave you alone."

"Good...I'm about to leave. Make sure you send me the information to the codes once they're done."

"Wait, you still didn't tell me what you're doing for your birthday."

"Right, because I need to know too. I plan on leaving for Florida soon." June announced. "I want to at least be here to help you celebrate your twenty-sixth birthday."

"I'm not doing anything, I got too much stuff to handle." He replied while shaking his head.

"Boy, at least take a break and do something for you special day. You work too much, I don't want you to miss out on your twenties."

Malcolm sighed in frustration; he was tired of everybody saying that s**t to him. Instead of arguing with his mom, he just nodded his head and said, "I'll see and let me know if Lorenzo shows his face around here again."

"Didn't you have a talk with him?" Frida questioned him.

"I did, but I don't think it was effective. I'm trying to be nice to him, but if he oversteps his boundary, I will deal with him."

Without saying anything else, he left with the quickness. He was driving his own ride today since Arthur was handling some business with his fiancée.

He sat back in his Jaguar, enjoying the cool air that blew out of his air conditioning. Before he could pull off, he noticed an incoming call on his iPhone. It buzzed crazily and he frowned when he noticed T as the caller ID.

What the f**k did Tilly want?

_____________________________

Jersey spent most of her day touring the community college with her appointed advisor. The school was huge and even roomier when inside. She spent about thirty minutes there and was given a list of options and directions on how to apply for the upcoming classes. Afterwards, she hopped on the train and headed for Brooklyn.

"She must live here." Jersey said to herself as she strolled towards the stairs of the building. It was just like any other building in Brooklyn. Chips of paint was rotting and falling off. Graffiti covered most of it, which made everything even tackier.

She hurried up the stairs with a limp and made her way inside. Graffiti covered the walls inside, and Jersey jumped when she noticed a bloody rat on the floor. It looked as if it had been stomped to death—hence the bloody footprints.

"Who would be that cruel?" She commented while going up the stairs. After climbing those many flights of stairs, she was faced with the specific door.

Jersey raised her arm and balled her hand into a fist. Her social anxiety made her want to run, but she cursed it out mentally to leave her the f**k alone. She had to do this, it needed to be done.

Knock, knock, knock

She stood there after three knocks and waited on a response. Suddenly, she heard cursing and clenched her bag cautiously.

"Hell no! I have to work tonight!" A deep, yet grouchy voice fussed. "I told y'all not to have no f*****g friends over!"

The door swung open swiftly, causing Jersey to get a whiff of the cigarette fume that permanently lingered throughout the apartment. A tall, bald headed man stood there with grumpiness written all over his face.

He looked tired with his bloodshot, baggy eyes and permanent wrinkle line that was stitched across his face.

"What you want?" The tired man interrogated angrily as he placed his palm on the archway. He had an accent which made Jersey assume he was Jamaican.

"I—Uh..."

"I—Uh—what? Why are you here? To sell something. Look, I ain't got no money to waste little girl. Take your Girl Scout cookies somewhere else."

He tried closing the door, but Jersey stopped him with her hand.

"No, no, no..." She objected. "I just wanted to speak with Ashanti."

He eyed her for a minute before speaking, "Ashanti, huh? What you want my daughter?"

Jersey's eyes darted everywhere nervously as she tried to come up with an illegitimate answer. She sighed and said, "Just to talk. I want to ask her a few questions."

"You must be from her school?"

"Yes, yes sir."

"Ashanti!" The old man yelled. "You got company."

Jersey stood there and waited on the girl to come out. She didn't dare go in since the old man didn't invite her. He flopped down on the couch and eyed his daughter who had made her way inside.

"You tell your friend not to knock on my damn door again." He chastised her. "I have to get up and go to work tonight. I need my f*****g rest, Shunti."

"Alright." She breathed out while making her way to the door. She waddled a little as she neared the door. Her eyes surveyed Jersey quickly and went into a frown.

"The weird girl from the funeral..." She said in a low voice. Her father didn't hear her since he was laid out on the couch, trying to sleep. "Why are you here?"

Weird girl?

"I—um...I wanted to talk to you—"

"How did you even find out where I live?" Ashanti badgered as she stood there wearing a shirt that looked tight around her even bigger belly. Her long dreads were wrapped into a neat bun.

"I found the letters you wrote to Rudy and I wanted to talk to you about him." Jersey replied honestly.

"I don't know anything." She blurted out while stepping back into the apartment to close the door. Jersey placed her hand on the door to keep her from closing it.

"I just want to talk to you; Rudy was my cousin. I'm not here to hurt you or anything."

"I don't believe you now move!" She raised her voice, which caused her dad to look over at them.

"She's pestering you?" He asked. "You want me to handle it."

Quickly Jersey moved her hand away from the door. She didn't want to get into anything with Ashanti's dad. He looked like a cold killer or something.

"No, dad." Ashanti replied while giving Jersey a look. "I'm sure she gets it now."

The door slammed in her face. Jersey stood there for a minute and listened in on the conversation Ashanti was having with her dad. He was basically asking her if she really knew Jersey and she said no. Instead of waiting around, she decided to leave.

"All I was trying to do was help her." Jersey said to herself as she limped out of the building. She made her way to Brooklyn with an injured foot for nothing.

Jersey wanted to help Ashanti because she knew that the baby was for Rudy. She wanted to at least be around her so she could know the baby. Ashanti, however, was too stubborn to realize that. Instead of dwelling over it, Jersey just decided to go back home.

_____________________________

When she finally made it to the apartment, she noticed that Kelli had company. Their friend, Vena was over with Natalie. She rolled her eyes while locking the door behind her.

"There goes my baby. Where you been?" Vena questioned her nosily while chewing on her gum.

"Hey, Jay." Natalie greeted her. She sat there looking pretty and clearly taking advantage of the warm weather. Her hair was curly and parted down the middle. She wore a sleeveless shirt with some shorts that looked great against her honey-colored skin.

"Hey...I've been out."

"Out where? I've been calling you." Kelli added, looking over with a slight frown.

Jersey held her phone in her hand and said, "This phone has terrible signal. I didn't get any of your calls."

"Well, where did you go?"

"I went out to tour that school and then I went and grabbed lunch at the diner—you know, Bennie's. Plus, I had to make a quick run to Walmart."

"I could've drove you around." Kelli voiced.

"I didn't want to worry you. Besides, you said you couldn't take me anywhere." Jersey replied dryly as she leaned against the couch.

Kelli c****d her head to the side and said, "Well, that was before the issue was dissolved. And where's your driver, Sawyer? He's supposed to be driving you around."

Jersey sighed and said, "I really don't want to be around him, so I decided to go by myself. I'm not a kid—I can get around on my own."

"I know but that's what he's getting paid for...to chauffeur you around." Kelli argued.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm about to change my clothes."

"Wait a minute, I have to tell you something." Kelli halted as she stood up, tapping away on her phone.

"What is it?" Jersey replied tiredly. She limped over, feeling the pain from her foot.

"Ryder is throwing Malcolm a little party at this lounge. He wants to invite you as well, it's gonna be nice."

Jersey shook her head no. She didn't want to be around Ryder at all. She was still upset with him for telling Malcolm her business. It wasn't his place to say anything.

"I'm not going."

"Why not?" Vena quizzed her with a frown. "Come on, mamita. We're going and it's not going to be the same without you."

"I don't want to be around Ryder because of what he did." Jersey snapped. "He told Malcolm my business."

"What business?" Vena wondered nosily.

Kelli looked over at her with concerned stitched across her face.

Jersey sighed while shaking her head. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

Instead of listening to their objections, she made her way inside her room and closed the door behind her. Jersey slipped into something more comfortable and sat on the bed. She reached for her bag and grabbed the envelope. When she flipped it around, she noticed the name: Laurence Johnson written on the front. It took her a while to read the letter, but she had to make sure she was mentally prepared to do so. She removed the letter from the envelope and started reading it.

Dear Jersey,

I hope everything is alright with you. I've been contacting you for a while now and still no response. I think we've been doing this letter stuff for too long. Lol. We're acting like we're in the nineties or something. I'm going to write my number on this paper, please call me soon. I'll be in New York next month in July. I was hoping you could help me find somewhere to crash for a few days. I'm thinking about living on-campus at the school I'm attending. Call me soon, I love you.

678-123-4567

Preach

Jersey folded up the paper slowly and sighed with relief. From the letter, she assumed her brother was fine and that's what she wanted for him. He was her only family and she was going to try her best to hold on to him.

"My baby brother." She commented while slowly smiling to herself.

Jersey limped over to her dresser and pulled her notepad and ink pen out of her last drawer. She leaned over the dresser and pressed her pen to the paper.

Dear Laurence,

I can't wait to see your face. I can only imagine how much you've changed over the years. I'm sorry about not contacting you, I've been dealing with so much lately. Rudy was shot and killed about a month ago and...that put me in a funky mood. I tried to help steer him in the right direction, but it didn't work. I just wanted the best for him. Anyway, I don't want to worry you. I'm doing fine and my life is...okay. I'm in a better living situation. I moved from Brooklyn to Manhattan. This is my new address. Can't wait to see you.

Jay

She shook her head and closed her notepad. Instead of sending him the letter, she decided to call him later. It wouldn't be right now because she wasn't mentally prepared to hear her baby brother's voice.

Instead of dwelling over the situation, Jersey limped over to the Walmart bag and pulled out a box. She used her scissors to cut it open and pulled out a brand-new clock. It didn't tick as loud as the old one, but it would definitely work. After setting it, she walked over and hung it in the same spot as the old one.

____________________________

"You trying to buy this or what?"

"I don't know..." Malcolm trailed off as he examined the inside of the vacant building. It was definitely up to his standards, but he wasn't too sure yet. Opening another bar so soon would only bury him in more work.

However, he wanted this. He wanted another bar to manage. This time, his new bar would be different from the old one. This bar would be more of an upscale hotspot for the rich and famous. He wanted to attract more people who were willing to pay big money just to host events there. The building was big enough for it and Malcolm planned on turning everything out. He could see it now—lavish, luxury, and hard to get in.

"It's a good choice, especially for the kind of bar you plan on opening. You can fit more people in here and add more s**t. I think you should buy it." Ryder opined.

Malcolm breathed in and nodded his head in agreement. Candace stood beside him looking around with Malcolm's phone in her hand. It was her duty to keep track of who called his business phone. Her job wasn't easy at all since she had to be alert for every single ring.

"What do you think?" Malcolm questioned his personal assistant, looking over at Candace who held a small smirk on her face.

"Perfect." She cheesed while running her fingers through her relaxed her. "It's in the right neighborhood and the rich tourists are always on this side."

"Call Foreman and have him draw up the contract. Don't tell him it's a deal yet. I also want you to call Raymond, he's a lawyer and he's also saved in my contact list. He'll be able to read the fine print before I make a deal."

Malcolm didn't care that much for Raymond, but he was his grandmother's boyfriend. Raymond was a motormouth, but he was in the right career. He used his talkative skills to win many cases as a lawyer.

"Got it." Candace replied quickly as she absorbed in his orders like a robot.

"You can leave now since we're heading out." He instructed her coolly.

When both Malcolm and Ryder left the building, they hopped in Ryder's vehicle. He sported a Ram that was definitely within his tax bracket. It was his pride and joy, so he made sure to take good care of it.

Malcolm tried to relax by sitting back and listening to the music Ryder had turned up. He didn't have it blasting since he liked being alert, but it was loud enough.

Out of nowhere, Ryder leaned over and turned the music down. Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything.

"So, look...I want you to come out to Panthers and celebrate a little."

"s**t, when? You know I'm busy this week. My schedule is full."

"Nigga your schedule is always full. You gone take off on your birthday though. At least do something bro."

Malcolm just silently shook his head. He wasn't trying to hear that s**t. Working was all he knew, and he wasn't going to stop. He had to continue to get his bag—no matter what.

"Come on man..." Ryder coaxed. "I'm talkin' about an exclusive party—just for you."

"I might swing by..." Malcolm trailed off.

"Do that then. I hope you coming by since the party is for you."

Before the conversation continued, a buzzing noise caught their attention. Ryder glanced over and noticed the letter T on his boy's screen.

He shook his head and said, "Still dealing with the ops, huh? I told you to leave that b***h alone. I don't trust her ass—at all."

"Let me handle this s**t my way."

"You've always been a hardheaded nigga. You hate listening to people." Ryder pointed out. "What—you caught feelings for her or something?"

"f**k feelings, I don't catch them." Malcolm cursed. "Why you worried about me? You need to be cutting your so-called relationship off with Kelli. If Hope finds out you’re cheating, she gone leave your ass this time."

"Hope gone stay in her place." Ryder replied casually. He was confident with his statement. He knew that Hope wasn't going anywhere.

_____________________________

A local library was near the apartment building Jersey lived in. Instead of bothering people to take her, she walked. As soon as she made it inside the library, she obtained a visitor's pass. The library in Manhattan was huge and breathtaking. There were millions of bookshelves filled with books of different genres. There were stairs that led to another floor.

Elders sat around reading books while middle-aged, shushing adults roamed the library with hyperactive eight-year-olds. College students sat at the table, trying their best to turn in their almost due homework with the help of the library's free WIFI.

Jersey found herself at a computer. She logged in with the information given and went straight for Google Chrome. Going back to school was one of her priorities and she was going to accomplish it. Instead of lying in bed all day, she decided to register for school at the library. She had no choice but to do just that since there was no WIFI or compatible device(s) at the apartment.

She spent most of her time filling out the application. Thanks to the school's discount, she didn't have to pay for the application fee at all. The twenty dollars had been waived for a short amount of time. After finishing her application and turning in her old test scores, she proceeded to a random bookshelf.

Jersey roamed the quiet place, pulling books by the spine and inspecting them gracefully. She loved reading, but she felt bad since she hadn't touched a book in years. She wanted to start her reading journey again. She used to love indulging in historical romance, African American literature, and crime fiction books. Instead of dwelling over the situation, she decided to go to the front and apply for a library card.

A young, brown woman sat behind the desk flipping through some papers. She wore a hijab around her head, so Jersey assumed she was a Muslim. She couldn't help but to notice how beautiful the woman was. She had natural features like a large forehead with a pointy nose and thick lips. She wore makeup that made her look glamorous. Her long, ballerina nails were white and nice too.

"Excuse me." Jersey softly whispered while clearing her throat as she leaned over the counter. The woman looked over as she poked out her tan colored lips. When she noticed Jersey, she smiled.

"Yes?"

"I need to apply for a library card. Do I need to apply online or..."

"Well, you can. But since you're here, you can just fill out the form."

Jersey just nodded her head and watched as the woman stood up. She was dressed in a Nike sweater with some jeans. She watched as the woman rummaged through the papers on her desk. She needed to straighten up, but Jersey wasn't going to say anything. She just watched as the woman dropped her head in aggravation.

"I'll be right back; I have to go and get you a form from the back."

"That's fine." Jersey nodded her head and waited for her to come back. She looked around and spotted something eye catching on the window of the office.

Help Wanted

Just what Jersey needed. A job.

But why would I work here? She asked herself while contemplating.

Jersey's money was running very low. She spent most of it on necessities and toiletries since Kelli wasn't trying to contribute. Most of her money went on herself.

When the young woman appeared at her desk, Jersey watched as she slid the form in front of her. She peered over at the girl and worked up enough courage to ask her about the Help Wanted sign.

_____________________________

Bzzz...bzzz...bzzz

Malcolm laid in his canopy-styled bed. Fast asleep, which was surprising. He didn't get much sleep since he dealt with a busy schedule. With the help of his assistant, he was able to free some of his time in order to get some much-needed sleep.

Candace was now fully in charge of his personal calls and many other errands. She knew exactly what to do since Malcolm gave her specific instructions.

He was busy snoring the paint off the walls when he felt something wet against his jaw. The buzzing movement also grabbed his attention. He frowned in irritation, not wanting to wake up and find out what was bothering him.

Malcolm could feel the wetness again. His eyes flew open and he was looking right at Ivy. His Pitbull. She was sitting right on his bed, trying to let him know that his phone was making a weird noise.

He took a deep breath while reaching out to scratch and rub the side of her head. She leaned her head to the side, enjoying the rub.

"What's up, girl?" He questioned her groggily and she couldn't help but to stand up and wag her tail eagerly. Her ears moved in excitement as she watched Malcolm.

"Nah, chill out. Sit." He commanded in an authoritative tone that made Ivy do exactly as he said. He didn't like it when she tried to walk all over his bed.

The phone stopped buzzing for a brief moment, but Malcolm didn't seem to care. He laid out in his bed and flexed his muscles, trying to stretch. He was in bed with no shirt on, just his boxers and some socks. A du-rag was tied around his head to keep his waves intact.

"Ready to eat?" He questioned his dog as he grabbed his personal phone, checking the time. It was around twelve in the afternoon. Malcolm couldn't believe that he had slept that long. He felt bad for oversleeping since he usually got up early to feed Ivy and take her for a quick, morning walk.

Ivy jumped up again since she could understand the word, eat. Her tail wagged as she jumped out of the bed and ran towards the door. When she realized Malcolm was busy unplugging his phones, she made a snort sound with her nose and watched attentively with her ears raised.

Buzz...buzz...buzz

It was his burner. Something was wrong.

"Who the fuck..." Malcolm cut his words short as he walked towards the front of his apartment. He noticed that Micah's name had appeared on the front of his screen.

"Yo." He greeted Micah while reaching inside the fridge for Ivy's food. He had her on a raw meat diet and made sure to order her food specifically for her.

"I need you to meet me. A lot of s**t is going down, man."

"Give me a minute. I need to make sure Ivy is straight before I leave."

"You don't have time for that. You and that f*****g dog, man. Just meet me at the diner."

"f**k you." Malcolm ended the call and quickly used his personal to call Candace. He needed her to walk Ivy and take her to the groomers for a bath.

_____________________________

Malcolm stepped out of his Jaguar and noticed a pacing Micah who was busy pulling from a roach. Malcolm gave him a look as he neared him.

"What's going on man?"

Micah placed his attention on his friend while flicking the roach on the ground. He blew out the remaining smoke and shook his head while looking around. Clearly, he was paranoid, and that s**t didn't sit well with Malcolm.

"Man, what the f**k is wrong with you?" Malcolm grilled him while plastering a hardened expression on his face. "You’re pacing around, smoking on that small ass roach. You’re looking real suspect, bro."

"f**k that." Micah interjected hastily while walking up on Malcolm. He looked around before speaking again. "Look, niggas are dropping like flies and s**t man. I don't know what the f**k is going on but you’re losing men out here, dawg."

Malcolm pull back from Micah and eyed him sternly. He waited for Micah to start laughing, but he didn't. In fact, he wore a look of seriousness that said: HE WASN'T PLAYING.

"Like who?" He questioned with so much concern. He didn't like it when his workers ended up losing their life.

"s**t, they got Ricardo, Q, Jalen, and Troy." Micah replied, naming all of the people who were now dead.

Malcolm couldn't help but to drop his head. He was speechless.

"All four of them got caught up...at the spot."

"f**k!" Malcolm cursed while clenching his jaws in anger.

"And that ain't all..." Micah trailed off. "Ryder ended up shot as well."

"Is he alright?" Malcolm asked, clearly, he was worried about his best friend.

"That nigga straight, he's at the hospital now. Hope is with him."

Malcolm gazed off in suspicion as he thought about the many possibilities. He looked over at Micah and shook his head.

"I don't know what the f**k is going on, but all I know is that somebody's watching us." Micah stated honestly.