“Please, man! Es mijo!” Dario shouted.

“You gon’ bury your motherfucking mijo if you don’t start talking,” Isa said. “Where’s my bitch?”

“I don’t know nothing about your girl being snatched, man. That wasn’t my call! Word is it was out-of-town plates, man! Nobody’s making moves on Crew territory, man! It wasn’t me.”

“What kind of plates?” Isa asked, changing his aim from son to father. Dario seemed to find some relief in that.

“D.C. plates. It wasn’t nobody from the city. That’s all I know. I swear on my kid,” Dario pleaded.

Isa heard the sniveling kid and nodded to Dario.

“Getcho ass up,” he ordered. “I heard you been flexing, steady with my name in your mouth, talking real big. Let’s see if you ’bout that shit you been spitting. Cuz me? I’ll blow yo’ fucking head off in front of your kid, no problems.” He tapped the barrel of the gun against the tip of the man’s nose condescendingly.

Isa was the type of monster that terrified grown men.

“It wasn’t like that, man. Just corner shit, just jokes, man! I don’t got no issues, man. Please, man. Please, Isa!” Dario begged.

“Get up, man,” Isa stated. He was in a foul mood. “I believe you. Let’s go for a ride so you can tell me what you know about these D.C. plates.”

Dario stood and pressed his son to his body, covering his ears as the young boy clenched his eyes closed. “Go down the street to Pepe’s, mijo. Stay there until I get back,” he instructed. “I love you. Go now. Run, mijo.”

The little boy ran full speed up the block as Isa tapped his chest lightheartedly. “Relax, man, let’s ride. Ayo’, Snoop, let me take your whip,” Isa ordered to one of his henchmen. The six-foot killer handed over the keys, and as he did, Isa stepped in close. “Turn the lights out on the kid,” he whispered. Isa didn’t leave loose ends. That same little boy would grow up with hate in his heart one day, and Isa eliminated all possibilities of a threat, both large and small.

It was the price for being the seed of a bitch-ass nigga who couldn’t reinforce the threats he made, and the result of Aria’s disappearance. Until he found her, nobody was safe.

“Isa, man, please,” Dario pleaded.

“Nigga, I said quit fucking groveling. You’re good. I just need information. Spin the block with me for a minute.”

Dario reluctantly entered the car, and Isa climbed behind the wheel, then pulled off.

“We ain’t never been stingy with these blocks. Always gave a fair price and let every nigga occupy they own, you know?” Isa asked as he hit the blunt that still burned between his fingertips. He passed it to Dario, who shook his head.