“You’re really staying,” Messiah answered as he glanced at Iman.

“Yes!”

Saviour jumped for joy and ran up to Bleu. “Thanks, Mom!” he shouted as he gave her a quick hug before rushing back into the house.

Messiah didn’t stay. He knew Bleu had business to tend to. He pulled out his keys and got back into his car before pulling off.

16

“We need Messiah on this, man. We owe this nigga Hak too much money. We got to do this shit the old way. Two sets of hands ain’t enough,” Isa said as he wrapped a rubber band around a thick wad of money and tossed it into the pile that was building in the center of the table. “You niggas need to get out your fucking feelings so we can hop in this bag. Mo with her gangster boo ass got you niggas acting real fucking sensitive. That shit is getting in the way of the money.”

Ahmeek was silent. The quiet was answer enough. He didn’t even acknowledge that Isa was talking as he flipped through the bills in front of him. He was more precise than any teller, quicker than any money machine. He had been counting up thousand-dollar stacks since he was a young boy. “You fuck up my count and that’s ya ass,” Ahmeek stated.

“Fuck yo’ count, nigga,” Isa said, jumbling up the bills in front of Ahmeek. Ahmeek blew out a sharp breath and turned stern eyes to Isa. Isa stuck up a middle finger while pulling on the blunt he smoked. He blew smoke into the air and passed it to Ahmeek.

Meek exhaled sharply. “Fuck it.”

“Ain’t our shit; make that nigga Hak count it,” Isa said. “It’s all there. I ain’t with this shit, though, bruh. Hustling day and night to deliver the shit back to him. Right now, I’m ready to scream, ‘Fuck that debt and fuck Hak too.’ We can do the shit the hard way and get at him real proper. Send him to get fitted for them wings, real shit.”

“We aren’t there yet,” Ahmeek stated.

“You not there yet. I’m right there, my G,” Isa replied.

“Don’t misunderstand me, Isa. It’s not an option. That’s not the move. I’ve done the digging on Hak. He’s connected. We could put him down. My murder game is always proper, so yeah, we could, but we do that and that’s war, and I ain’t talking no corner-boy-turf shit. We play the game smart, we move fair, in the end, we’ll walk away with our respect, a couple Ms, and our life.”

“I ain’t seeing no Ms paying back this debt,” Isa griped.