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Saint chuckled and shook his head, keeping his attention on the task at hand. He was in the hood with Antonne, Aiyden, and Damien. They were in the middle of a dice game with a few other men before the loudmouth started talking shit in an attempt to gain Saint’s attention.
It never failed—when a person became famous, they received the most hate from their hometown. In Memphis, a rapper or athlete had more of a chance to be gunned down by people from their past than an enemy. All across the country, Saint rarely had guards. The only time he employed them was when he would be in large crowds or unfamiliar territory. Back home in Memphis, Saint either kept a few of his guys with him or two guards to be safe.
Though he carried and could defend himself, Memphis had a spirit of hate consuming it that couldn’t be ignored. Even if he didn’t die young, Saint had a bigger chance of getting into fights and shootouts because of enemies than anywhere else.
“You want me to handle that?” Antonne asked with no hesitation.
That was how they operated, very rarely did they have to handle their own issues when they were together. The holy hoodlums rode for each other tough. If Saint wanted the man silenced, he could make it happen with a mere bob of his head.
“Nah, let ’em talk,” Saint replied, tossing his dice.
Waco was known for being a troublemaker. He was the same way back in high school. Back in that day, Waco called himself being a rapper too. The city didn’t take to his music as well as they did Saint’s, and Waco’s jealousy created conflict every time the two were in the same room. Most times, Saint let Waco say whatever he wanted to say. In his mind, he’d won, so there was no need for him to go back and forth with anyone.
“Yeah, ’cause he know what I’m saying is true,” Waco replied, squatting down and making himself eye level with Saint. “Everybody comes back home in a box or after a fall from grace. Since you’re still alive, for now, I assume you a broke ass nigga now. Is that the case?”
Saint chuckled. “I know you got a lot of hate in yo’ heart, so I’ma let you have that. Say one more thing, though, and I’ma knock your ass out.”
At the sound of his threats, several phones began to go up. Saint was known for a lot of things, and tolerating disrespect wasnoton the list. Though he was enjoying himself, he hated coming to the hood before going to the friendsgiving dinner Kahlil and Honey were having. He should have gone to see his grandparents to avoid getting into trouble instead. Sadly, Waco wouldn’t be the first person to try and test or disrespect Saint now that he was back home, and it was a stark reminder of how much he had changed over the years. He had more to lose than anyone else in that room, even with the state of his career, but Saint’s pride wouldn’t allow him to leave without making an example out of Waco if necessary.
“Let me handle this, mane,” Antonne repeated, this time with a bit more bite in his request.
He wouldn’t ask a third time before he took matters into his own hands. Saint’s exhale was heavy and smile bitter as heaviness filled his body.
“It’s a shame a man can’t come to the old hood and enjoy a dice game without a hating ass nigga tryna fuck shit up.”
Saint heard the flick of the knife before he saw it. The moment Waco launched in his direction with the knife, Saint had him by the wrist, twisting his arm back until it popped out of its socket. Waco cried out as Saint pressed his chest into the floor on top of the dice and several bills of cash.
“Did you really just try to slice me?” Saint confirmed through gritted teeth, punching Waco in the back of his head. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to cause pain and make him rethink his actions as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“We kill for less,” Antonne announced, pulling his piece.
“Nah, let it ride,” Saint ordered as he stood. “It’s way too many eyes and phones out right now. We good.”
Antonne’s eyes were locked on Waco as he wreathed on the ground in pain.
“Let’s go,” Saint demanded, pulling the Hi-Point C-9mm from his hand.
As Antonne and Damien followed Saint outside, he tried to shake the feeling of disgust that consumed him.
“I should’ve stayed my ass in Cali,” Saint grumbled, getting a chuckle out of both Aiyden and Damien. Antonne was in his own world and would be until he calmed down. Though Saint was prepared to deal with haters and enemies, he hadn’t expected to face that so soon. This was supposed to be the start of a normal, peaceful life, and it seemed like that would be impossible already.
ChapterSeventeen
Harmony
“He’s really gone,”Harmony muttered, closing the drawer.
She’d checked the guest room first, and Keith had removed every one of his possessions. He’d also cleared out the master bedroom and bathroom too.
“Listen, I know this hurts, but this is for the best,” Angel assured, squeezing Harmony’s shoulder and hugging her from the side.
“Take all the time you need to mourn and grieve the ending of this relationship, but trust that Keith did right by you with this,” her mother added.
Harmony’s nostrils flared as she blinked back her tears.
“And look at it this way, with how things were between y’all for the last few months, you’ve kind of been preparing to be without him anyway.”
That was true. No sex, very few dates, strained conversations, anddaysof silence. As lonely as Harmony was, it was as if Keith had prepared her for this moment. Had that been intentional? It didn’t matter. He was gone, and now, Harmony would only have to focus on herself.
