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“Nah. You know he didn’t.”

I sighed.

Already aggravated.

Twenty thousand dollars.

And this nigga still hadn’t brought me shit.

Tyler shook his head.

“Sound like that nigga like keeping you a problem, my nigga.”

I chuckled.

“Trust me. I’ma be a bigger problem in a minute.”

I pulled my phone out.

Funny thing about me?

I ain’t even like Sam like that.

She was gorgeous. Thick. Pretty as fuck. Had a nice body even after four kids. Smart. Funny when she wasn’t getting on somebody nerves.

But I’d never looked at her outside of being Xay’s wife.

Never.

That was my little brother’s bitch.

So when I first started fucking with her, that shit was solely to get under that nigga skin.

He took seven fucking years from me.

Then visited me.

Put money on my books.

Called me his brother.

Sat across from me knowing damn well he helped put me behind that wall.

So yeah.

I wanted something that would hurt.

And fucking his wife?

That would hurt.

I opened Sam’s messages.

Me: That nigga home?

She texted right back.

Sam: Yeah.