Page 25 of Love Sanctioned

“Foe’head.” One word out of my cousin’s mouth had me cut my eyes to him.

“Let him spit his business first,” I requested, knowing just how fast Killah gave it. Compared to Killah, I was an angel… He was funny as hell ninety-eight percent of the time, but that other two percent came around more murderously than one could ever imagine.

“Bet.”

I glanced around the poolhall, my eyes landing on a few members whose eyes were also on the new visitors. They stood near the table about thirty feet away, game halted and glaring. Eighty-Six was another Waterboy hangout, owned by one of the guys. Whoever this was had to know rolling through here wasn’t a good move. I threw my hand up for the fools by the pool table to continue their game because this was damn sure nothing to worry about. Even though I didn’t know what this visit was for or who it was from.

“Yo’ name Posydiann?” The fat one addressed me, eyes on Killah.

“Who the fuck asking?”

“Look I don’t come through on any disrespect. Shit, if anything I’m paying my respect and being respectful.” He licked his lips.

“Respectful? Where is that at? You came through here real disrespectfully, knowing damn well who I am because you pointed to me before you walked your slew foot ass over here. Now find your respect before I get disrespectful.”

He stood there for a moment, eyes scanning the room like he was attempting to choose either his words or his actions carefully.

“I came through to talk about the blocks past Hollis and Ninth. Rich Jordan’s old territory. North-Rider territory from Ninth to Fifteenth.”

“The fuck is a North-Rider? Ah naw, you from low end Briar. Damn near Marlowe.” Killah answered his own question then began laughing in the man’s face.

Fatass’s jaw tightened. “Yeah and we’re adding to our territory, taking over that area.”

My eyes narrowed at the audacity, and right when I was about to speak, Killah’s goofy ass busted up laughing.

“Yo, you new age ones really are on to something, huh? I’m convinced y’all be in the mirror practicing these pitches,” Killah responded, sitting up in his seat. Shit.

“I came in here resp⁠—”

“Stop saying that fucking word to me, as a matter of fact, you came in this motherfucker to tell me you think you got some claim to my territory? What the fuck you thought I was gonna say?”

“Uhh…” he started but then stopped speaking and shrugged his big ass shoulders.

“You don’t know, but you brought your dumb ass in here on some checking me shit? Talking about your gang; what gang? A bunch of unknowns with not a damn thing to stand for.” I shook my head.

“Get up outta here before you lose yourself. It ain’t the time to be dumb. Go ahead back to the low end and don’t come back this way because next time that shit is gonna get you touched.”

Fat Ass shook his head. “See, this ain’t no request.”

The moment he said that, I was on my feet with my piece to his forehead, and from the sound of one being put in the chamber behind me, Killah had aimed at the silent bodyguard.

“Who sent you in here to get killed?”

“I ain’t no snitch. I’m not built like that,” his lips said but he was afraid. It was all in his eyes.

“Aight, cool. Lemme go ahead and get you off this plane.”

The one standing behind Big Boy spoke. “Wait, wait, hell nah. I’m not about to lose my life for nobody. I have kids depending on me.”

“Aight, then who?”

“Fool named Dwight. His people own a laundromat in the old strip mall over there by the pawn shop. Laundromat is his grandmother’s though. Sweet old lady, she doesn't even know he’s running anything through her spot.”

“Pawnshop and a flower shop too?” Killah asked.

Ol’ boy nodded.

That narrowed it down easily for me. Not only did ol’ boy’s grandmother not know he was running whatever through her business neither did the owner of the strip mall. I knew that for a fact because Mr. Lee didn’t play that shit at all.