“I don’t want your money! I’m here for you, young boy.” Shawn told him through gritted teeth, then hit him in the face with the butt of his gun.

“So you like delivering messages?” Mannie questioned Trenton as he stood in front of him. “Deliver this then.” He lifted his foot and stomped on Trenton’s dick. The pain was so excruciating the man nearly blacked out. His brown skin was covered in blood and bruises. “We run those blocks, nigga. Next time you got a message, come see me!” Mannie punched him with the back of a gloved fist, knocking him and the chair over.

Shawn picked up a brick and slammed it into Trenton’s face. His jaw split, and he instantly lost consciousness. Mannie looked at Shawn. “What the fuck, man? We not supposed to kill him.” They had been beating the living shit out of him for more than two hours.

“That nigga is not dead,” Shawn laughed. “Throw some of that pig piss on him, he’ll come around.”

“Man, you tripping. I’m not touching that shit! We done beat his ass enough anyway. He fucked up bad,” Mannie said, looking at the blood running from the side of Trenton’s face.

Shawn agreed. “Untie his bitch ass, and let’s go. I’m starving.”

Girl, where have you been?” Tasha questioned, opening her apartment door to let Arnessa in.

“Laying low,” Arnessa replied.

“Nessa, I haven’t seen you in over three weeks! Wait a minute—pause. Are you actually wearing something that shows your figure, and are you carrying a purse?” Tasha asked, examining the pale yellow Juicy sweatsuit that Arnessa had on and the brown leather Gucci bag in her hand. “And your hair is hanging. You look so pretty. What the fuck is going on, bitch?”

“Cut it out, Tash.” Arnessa followed Tasha down the hall into the kitchen, where Tasha was cooking. “What’s that? It smells good,” Arnessa said, taking a seat at the glass dining table.

“I got turkey wings, cabbage, and macaroni and cheese. I know you want a plate.”

“Sure do.” Arnessa smiled. She loved Tasha’s cooking. Without a doubt, the girl could throw down.

“Nessa, how come you don’t bring me the B-more package no more? And why them dudes take the trips wit’ me and Janine now?”

Arnessa sighed. “You still getting money, right?”

“Yeah,” Tasha said, turning to face her.

“Aight then, that’s all that matters.”

Tasha twisted her lips, “I see laying low ain’t changed that slick-ass mouth.”

Arnessa knew Tasha had a right to ask those questions, seeing as how Tasha was the one stuffing heroin into her vagina three times a week then transporting it down to Baltimore. “My bad, Tash. I’m stepping back from handling the packages personally right now. And those dudes going with y’all in case one of them niggas down there try some fly shit.”

Tasha prepared Arnessa’s plate and set it in front of her with a glass of her homemade sweet tea, which Arnessa loved. After grabbing a plate for herself, Tasha sat across from Arnessa. “So, bitch, what’s going on? You done just up and disappeared.”