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I already knew.
“Nigga, you gambling again?”
Xay looked away.
“Xavier.”
“Sam—”
“You gambling again?”
“It ain’t even like that.”
I laughed.
“Oh my fucking God.”
“It ain’t.”
“Don’t tell me it ain’t like that! We had to fucking move before because niggas was looking for your ass over money you owed!”
“That was years ago.”
“And apparently you ain’t learn shit!”
“Lower your voice.”
“Fuck you. The kids ain’t fuckin’ listening.”
“Sam.”
“You owe your fucking brother twenty thousand dollars. TWENTY. And I had to find out because he came knocking on our door for his money!”
“I handled it.”
“You handled seventeen! You still owe him three!”
“I’ll get it.”
“From fucking where?”
Silence.
I stepped closer.
“That’s what I’m asking you. Where did seventeen thousand dollars come from, Xay?”
“I had some money put up.”
“We have money put up. You’re my fucking husband. Ain’t no secret seventeen thousand dollars supposed to exist while I’m sitting here thinking we’re saving together.”
His jaw tightened.
“I said I’m handling it.”
“And I’m telling you that’s not good enough.”
He rubbed his hand down his face.
