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“He’s not that kid anymore, Rayne. And you’re deflecting. Focus on the topic at hand. We’re talking about you right now. That’s what we’re here for, right?”

“Man, whatever. You know what I’m saying. I get all of this flak from you, from Pops, from Ma, from everybody. Only for you to make it so easy to help some other little nigga win. Food trucks and shit. That’s how you’ve always moved with me, Dame. I’m only your little brother in blood. But it’s always fuck me in the end.”

“You know what, Rayne? I don’t have time for the victim routine right now. Hit me back up when you’re ready to grow up. I have things to do.”

I start to walk away, completely over the entire thing. If he wants to keep looking for sympathy, he won’t get it here. I’ve tried time and time again to help little bro. He clearly wants an enabler. And I’m nobody’s enabler. He’s going down the wrong path and I won’t push him in that direction any further. I only take a step forward before he reaches out to grab my arm, roughly.

“Aye, nigga, don’t turn away from me.”

Reflex immediately kicks in. I turn back towards him in a swift motion, jacking him up against one of the bridge walls. My hands are close to his throat, shaking with anger. If I were to do anything further, he’d be in the water. Sinking straight to the bottom, likely, since his ass can’t swim anyway. This has been a long time coming. So many times in the past, I’ve wanted to put my hands on him. Only to be held back. Well, the volcano has finally erupted and with no witnesses, he’s in a dire situation.

“Go ahead, do it, nigga. End my life!” he yells, almost begging to be put out of his misery. It’s taking a lot in me not to fulfill his request.

“If you were anybody else, Rayne, I would’ve already done it.”

Suddenly memories flash of us as kids, playing the Nintendo 64 together. I then think back to watching him graduate high school. Helping him fight off bullies in the neighborhood. Driving him to his prom. What the fuck am I doing? Realizing what’s happening, I quickly let him go, leaving his shirt balled up and wrinkled. He places a hand against his throat in shock as he stares me down, hatred filling his eyes.

“You’re a lost cause, Rayne,” I grumble, straightening my Rolex, “The whole family knows it. Whatever happens to you next, is all on you.”

“Fuck you, nigga.”

“Exactly. Get your life together. Before it’s too late.”

I’m practically in tears walking away from him. I can’t believe it’s come to this with my own little brother. But, as Morgan said before, sometimes blood can get infected. Rayne is one infected mothafucka. Infected by greed. By selfishness. By enablers. And if he wants to drown, I won’t be the anchor around his ankles. Life goes on for me. Whether he’s in it or not. All I can really do is hope he finds his way. But if he can’t, well, God will have the final say.

I get back into the car, completely pissed off. Heading back to the coffee shop feels like an escape at this point. My tires can barely withstand the speed, I’m driving so fast. I get there within five minutes tops, pulling into my designated spot. I briefly consider using the back entrance to avoid being seen, but choose to go through the front instead anyway. Unlike the day before, we’re almost completely empty. Outside of three individual guests sitting off to the side.

Destiny is in the front, cleaning out one of the coffee machines. I put on a fake smile, attempting not to show any signs of distress. The last thing I need is for her to worry or start asking questions. Especially with regards to Rayne. I’d rather keep her out of the situation going forward. She’s already been in it enough for my liking. She hears me walking up and quickly stops what she’s doing. We both greet each other with welcoming looks.

“Sup, bro?” she says, approaching me.

“What’s up, little sis. Is everything cool here?”

“Cool as a fan. Not too busy, yet. So, I’m just doing maintenance. I’ve got the other girls on break.”

“Aight, cool, cool. I’ll be in the office for a while.”

“Okay but hey before you go. There’s someone here that’s been waiting for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. Says she’s a friend of yours.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

Destiny points over to a woman sitting alone to the far left of the cafe. She’s wearing a black shirt and black jeans, seemingly in uniform. I walk closer to her, realizing that it's Syren. Syren turns to me, wearing the smile of a lottery winner. She stands to her feet, eyes full of lust. I’m a bit confused because I don’t recall telling her about my shop. Nor did Morgan. So, I put up a front, retaining an uncomfortable smile.

“Ahh, yes. That friend,” I say to Destiny.

“Hello again, Damien,” she says, holding a coffee cup in her left hand.

“What’s up Syren. Come with me.”

“Sure,” she says behind me, “I’d love to come with you.”

I walk ahead of her, leading her towards my office. Once we make it, I allow her in first before closing the door behind me. I’m still unsure as to why she’s actually here. This wasn’t planned by any means. Syren walks around the entire office, studying the scene like she’s taking notes in her head. She’s studied right back in return.

“This is a cute office,” she speaks first, standing seductively, “Morgan never told me you were such an esteemed business man.”