“Yes.” She beamed, hoping it meant that he was going to sit and stay awhile.

“Start cooking,” he said as he exited the room. “I’ll be back in ’bout two hours.”

“No, no, no,” Dee yelled, running past him and blocking the front door. “No, Mannie, you think you so slick. I not stupid; you leave you no come back.”

“I’ll be back, ma, that’s my word.” He pressed his body against hers and squeezed her butt. “I’m definitely coming back for some of this.” Mannie licked her ear and told her, “Dame un beso.”

Dee did kiss him as he requested. “I guess I’ll let you out, but if you don’t come back … I put all your things in the street.”

Mannie’s phone began vibrating as he fished it out of his pocket. He said, “Aight, Dee, open the door, this is probably Butta.”

Dee unlocked the three bolt locks and turned the knob. When she pulled the door back, she froze as she came face-to-face with a masked man. Mannie, focusing on his phone, looked up just in time to see the muzzle of the masked man’s chrome gun. Mannie reached for his own gun in the small of his back, but there wasn’t enough time. The masked man had the drop on him. Dee screamed as the heat of a bullet grazed her ear and slammed into Mannie’s throat. Blood sprayed from his neck as his body dropped to the floor. Dee continued to let out shrill screams. She thought she was in the middle of a nightmare.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” The man slammed Dee’s head against the wall, knocking her unconscious. Then he stood over Mannie, who was barely holding on. The man removed his mask to reveal his identity. Mannie’s eyes bulged wildly when he saw Trenton’s face. The man’s face was still scarred from the savage beating that he’d received from Shawn and Mannie months earlier. Trenton smiled evilly down at Mannie. “You told me the next time I had a message to bring it to you right. Here’s the message, faggot,” Trenton squeezed the lever pumping two bullets directly into Mannie’s face. He picked up Mannie’s keys and cell phone then fled the apartment.

Hurriedly, Butta filled the second of the two duffel bags with stacks of cash. He’d hoped to be done before Nichelle came home, but he wasn’t so lucky. Just as he dropped the last stack of cash into the bag, he heard the locks turning on the front door. Fuck, he thought as her stilettos clicked against the hardwood floor. Butta zipped the bags and headed out of the room with hopes that there would be no major confrontation.

Nichelle greeted Butta with an icy glare. Standing five feet nine, she had an ultraslim frame. Her flawless skin was the same color as rich chocolate, and her long brown hair flowed down the middle of her back. She looked like a life-sized black Barbie doll. Nichelle glanced at the bags that Butta held in each hand, “It’s like that?”