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d talk shit and think she can’t get got. Fuck that bitch! That bitch about to get got!”
“Eshon, relax and talk to me. What happened between y’all?”
Kid moved closer to her. Hearing Jessica’s name made him nervous. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.
Kid asked her, “What happened to Jessica?”
“Yo, don’t ask me about that bitch! Fuck her! I’m gonna kill that nasty fuckin’ bitch.”
“Baby, just calm down and talk to me,” Kip said evenly.
Eshon took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Only Kip could relax her. She took a seat on his couch and started to open up about the incident with Jessica, and then informing the brothers how she’d met a new man. Since she’d met him, she had changed into a bitch.
This was intriguing information for Kip but painful news for Kid. She was the love of his life.
“Hold up, what nigga she dealing wit’?” Kip asked.
“I don’t know. We never saw or met him. But I know he got money because he got Jessica stuntin’ in nice clothes, jewelry, money, and shoes.”
“Wait, wait. Jessica got herself some baller nigga like that, and she ain’t put me on to him to have him robbed? What the fuck, Eshon!” Kip frowned. “Yo, who is this nigga?”
“I don’t know, Kip. We never met him before. She’s keeping him a secret for some reason.”
“Why the fuck she keepin’ this nigga a secret?”
Eshon didn’t have an answer for him. She continued talking; telling them more about the fight and what was said. Eshon wanted to lean on his shoulder and be hugged and consoled. But Kip soon became bored with her story and upset with Jessica for holding out on him. He planned on talking to her. He needed the money.
“I need a gun, Kip . . . please,” Eshon begged.
Kip sucked his teeth. There was no way he was about to give her a gun to shoot Jessica. It wasn’t happening. “Yo, y’all just need to kiss and make up. Y’all friends.”
“What?”
“Eshon, you ain’t gonna kill her. You ain’t no killer. You’re just highly upset right now, emotional and shit. And Jessica’s still cool peoples. It’s just jealousy shit between y’all, and I bet y’all gonna be friends again before the summer starts,” he said with confidence. “I’m not giving you no gun.”
Eshon didn’t like what she was hearing. He was supposed to have her back. Why was he defending Jessica after everything she had told him? She became even angrier. Everything out of Kip’s mouth was wrong and more hurtful.
“You know what, Kip? Fuck you too!” She spun around and stormed out of his apartment, tears trickling down her face.
Kip shrugged his shoulders and closed his door, muttering, “Fuckin’ dramatic bitches.”
Twenty-Two
Kip sat in his Nissan Quest smoking a Black & Mild. He was parked on West 133rd Street, across the street from the Manhattanville projects. It was a busy night in the ghetto. He watched the residents move easily on the block, enjoying their spring. He had to think and get his mind right, though. With a civil war between Jessica, Eshon, and Brandy, his dynamic trio was put on hold.
He kept his gun close, his eyes open, and his head swiveling. He was always on alert—no matter where—either sitting in his hood or on foreign territory. A man had to keep his focus and he had to keep his momentum. Trouble had no boundaries.
Kip took another pull from the small cigar, listening to the radio, having his moment of solitude on the Harlem block. Get niggas and get money was on his mind. He was itching for another taste of cash flow.
Reclined and unwound for the moment, he soon noticed Papa John coming up the block. His friend looked troubled about something. He approached the minivan and climbed into the passenger seat.
“What’s good, nigga?” Kip greeted him with dap.
Papa John looked like he had something on his mind. He wasn’t his good-humored and perverted self like usual.
Kip noticed a few cuts and bruises on his hands. “What happened?”
“I’m good, nigga,” Papa John replied gruffly.
