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“You just said you gave police information that helped put him in prison.”
“It wasn’t like—”
“That’s literally snitching.”
“Whatever the fuck you wanna call it.”
I stared at him.
Seven years.
Levin lost seven years.
And Xay had something to do with it.
“Does Levin know?”
“Yeah.”
My stomach dropped.
“How long?”
“I found out today that he knew.”
Today.
The same day Levin told Xay about us.
I folded my arms.
“And?”
“And you don’t think that’s fucking funny?”
“What?”
“That this nigga knows I helped send him away and somehow ends up fucking my wife?”
I stared at him.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Stand here and start making shit up because you’re mad.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask him.”
I didn’t say anything.
Xay stepped closer.
“Ask your new nigga how long he knew what I did.”
