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“I got his money.”

Levin held his hand out.

“Where?”

Xay sucked his teeth.

“Man, hold on. I got you.”

He headed upstairs.

I stared after him.

Twenty fucking thousand dollars.

I knew Xay gambled.

Everybody knew Xay gambled.

I’d argued with him about gambling more times than I could count.

But owing his brother twenty thousand fucking dollars?

“Unbelievable.”

I shook my head and walked back toward the kitchen.

I wasn’t getting in the middle of Xay’s bullshit.

That nigga was grown.

If he’d borrowed twenty thousand dollars from Levin to gamble, sell drugs, flip something, whatever dumb shit he had going on, he could explain it himself.

I picked my pen back up and stared at my Thanksgiving list.

Turkey.

Macaroni.

Greens.

Yams.

Stuffing.

Potato salad.

Liquor.

Definitely fucking liquor.

I felt somebody behind me.

“Thanksgiving planning?”

I looked over my shoulder.

Levin was standing in the kitchen doorway.