Page 34 of Love Sanctioned

She looked from me to Iso, then nodded. “You know my motto, so please be smart.”

“I need at least an hour, Killa,” he responded.

I chuckled immediately, remembering what she told his ass that night in the warehouse. Thirty minutes and she’d have the spot cleaned up.

“Is it that easy?” I asked, cutting my eyes between him and the road.

“What do you mean?”

“To leave the streets alone and go on to greener pastures.”

He laughed. “Easy, hell nah, but think about it. I took bullets for the peace I have right now, so if we’re just considering that, then hell yeah it was easier to turn my back. I almost died in these streets, Psy. There was no coming back from that for me.”

I nodded.

“What, you thinking about leaving them in your rearview?”

I shrugged. “Not fully but I feel like there isn’t anything out there for me anymore. Feels like I’m always looking over the transgressions of others. Niggas coming out of the woodworks trying to claim territory that doesn’t belong to them. Shit is getting aggy, because I don’t have the energy for all of this. Been in the streets too long, I’m tryna see a way out to raise my fucking son, man.”

“Then leave. You did your time. You don’t owe them young niggas shit and you can’t save them all.”

“I ain’t really trying to, but it’s like I feel guilty.”

“Ain’t nothing to feel guilty about. You made your name and carried this shit on your shoulder long enough. Think about what’s next for you, bro?”

When I pulled up to the little hangout spot, I glanced over at Iso. “You got it on you?”

He sucked his teeth. “Nigga, I don’t even take rides with my wife without it on me. You think I’ma hop in the car with you without it?”

I chuckled.

We got out of the car headed toward the small group near the picnic tables. I walked up to the group and stood there for a moment.

“Which one of y’all is Dwight?” I asked, eyes traveling between the bodies and bikes.

“Who’s asking?” a tall lanky form leaned against the truck with a cigar to his lips asked.

I shook my head. This was how we always got off on the wrong fucking foot.

“You know who's asking. Same nigga you sent your boys to come see to let off a message right?”

Ol’ boy laughed. “You right, God. Lemme spit with you right quick, if that’s aight. Y’all bail right quick.” As soon as he said that, everybody who wasn’t him was on their feet moving toward anywhere but here.

Iso stayed at my side, never moving.

When his posse was clear and out of earshot, he moved from where he was standing against the food truck and walked over to the picnic table. A quick glance around and he was seated, eyes moving from Iso to me.

“I never wanted your blocks nor did I need them. It’s always been enough money out here for all of us and I still believe it is.”

“So what was sending niggas to my spot gonna do?”

“Draw you out. Have you or your boys do some young, reckless shit. I got paid to send them there. Expendable bodies that don’t make or break my collective.”

“So, I was supposed to kill them?”

“In theory. Your problem ain’t with me. I’ll admit that was some bitch shit, but it was too much money to pass up. Had I not, some other fool would have done it, but on some dirty shit. I don’t know who killed your uncle, but I know you have problems in Uptown, not with me.”

“And that means?”