“That’s because you ain’t never been stopped with it,” Spooky pointed out. “Jah, how many muthafuckas you done shot with that?”

“A few.” He retucked the gun.

Spooky shook his head. “You carrying that hot-ass piece like we ain’t got more iron.” Spooky reached under his bed and slid out a wooden box. Inside the box there were two handguns and some clips. Snatching a Glock from the box and checking the clip, he handed it to Jah. “Try that. It’s about the same weight, and brand new. Take that hot-ass forty and toss it in the fucking river.”

Jah examined the gun from butt to barrel. Balancing the Glock in one hand and the .40 in the other, he noticed that the Glock was slightly heavier and had a slightly longer barrel. Though it wasn’t as pretty or as proven as his .40, it would put a generous-size hole in something.

“It’s a’ight,” Jah said, tucking the Glock in the back of his pants and putting the .40 back in his belt holster. “Yo, I gotta go take care of something right quick, but I’ll hit you in a little while.”

“Fuck is you going? We gotta plan our counterattack,” Spooky said.

“We’ll handle that later. Let me go do this thing right quick and I’ll be back.”

“Jah, I know you ain’t putting off a rider mission for no pussy?”

“Come on, Spook, you should know me better than that. Would I put splitting a nigga’s shit on the back burner for some pussy?”

“Hard to tell these days,” Spooky mumbled. “Do what you gotta do and hit me back. Make sure you’re careful out there.”

“All day.” Jah gave Spooky a pound and left.

When he made it outside Spooky’s building, he felt as if a weight had been lifted. Spooky was without a shadow of a doubt Jah’s best friend and crime partner, but there were some things that Jah wouldn’t ever share with him. He had been trying to shake his comrade all day to handle more pressing business. Punching in a number on his cell, Jah placed the phone to his ear and waited. He had been thinking about making the call all day, but hadn’t yet found the time. Between Spooky’s shit talking and the walking dead men who tried to hit him up, his day had been pretty full. Still, the thought lingered in his mind. Even during the shootout he kept thinking that if he died he’d never be able to tell her how he really felt.

After about five rings it went to voicemail. Jah started to hang up, but figured if he did he would’nt be able to build the courage to make the call again. Sucking it up, he left a voicemail.