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“It’s been a week,” he said, checking the time on his phone. “Tim is on my ass about this wedding. He said you and Bay taking y’all precious time with the plans. That changes now.”

“I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you but…”

“You need to come home, Whiskee. Now.”

“No, you need to tell these big ass niggas to put that door back up. You been acting real brand new lately, and I don’t like this shit at all.”

“It don’t matter if you don’t like it; you gon’ respect it.” Scoffing, I crossed my arms over my chest as Mahogany wrapped her arm around my waist. “Now we can do this the easy way and you get your shit and come home willingly. Or we can do it the hard way and have them carry you out.”

“I’m not leaving.”

With one bob of his head, both men headed in my direction.

“Is he serious right now?” Mahogany yelled, tightening her grip on me.

It didn’t matter. While one of them dangled me over his shoulder like I was weightless, the other shoved Mahogany down the hall and demanded she show him where my things were. No matter how much I fought against him and yelled, I was no match for him physically. It took little effort for him to not only carry me out of the apartment but hold me in the back seat while the other goon drove.

“I hate it’s come to this,” Carlos said, his head buried in his phone. “The sooner you realize this is for the best, the better.”

“I’m not your property, Los. You can’t kidnap me and force me to do as you please. I don’t see why you don’t understand that.”

“I’m not kidnapping you; I’m bringing you back home where you belong.”

“I told you I needed some time. It’s bad enough you’re making me do this.”

“It’s not that big of a damn deal. We can get this shit worked out to where you don’t even have to live with the nigga. It can be a literal contract only. You might have to make a few appearances with him so their family will believe the marriage is legit and try not to challenge it, but that’s it. All that hiding out at Mahogany’s apartment is done, though. You making me look bad. If y’all ain’t married by the time I need my next shipment, Tim is going to cancel the contract. He threw some bullshit in the game talking about he doesn’t want to keep supplying me and you decide to back out. So instead of wanting to wait until the end of the year, he wants it to happen ASAP. I can’t let you play with my money, sis.”

“You're my brother... not my pimp. Did you forget that?”

“If I was your pimp, I'd be keeping the profit you make off this nigga. At least as your brother, the arrangement I'm making benefits us both. Be strong, Whiskee, and get out your feelings. This is business not personal. You’re my sister and I will always love you. I need you to prove the same.”

Resisting the urge to spit on him, I decided I didn’t want to act as disgustingly as my brother. All he had to do was give me space and time to process the bullshit ass plan he’d pulled me into, and he couldn’t even do that.

Now, I didn’t care that he was my brother. He was my enemy. And I would treat him as such.

“Whiskee,” he called. “I need to know you understand, and that we won’t have to have this conversation again.”

“I see what it is, brother. We won’t ever have to have this conversation again.”

The rest of the ride was silent. The goon wouldn’t even let me answer my phone as it repeatedly vibrated in my pocket. A cocky smile lifted the corners of my mouth. I knew it was Beethoven, and if he couldn’t get in touch with me, he was going to make my brother pay.

When we arrived home, it was even colder than usual. Carlos told me the goons would stay at my door and make sure I didn’t try to leave. He said I could leave after Tim was satisfied with the progress Beethoven and I had made. As soon as I was alone in my room, I took my phone out of my pocket and went through the missed calls and text messages. Sure enough, they were from Mahogany and Beethoven. The last text he sent said he was worried and if I didn’t respond he was going to track my location and pull up.

My smile returned as I plopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

Little did Carlos know… I’d be out of this room soon…

13

Beethoven

I was in the middle of a meeting when I texted Whiskee. Omari and I were meeting up with a connect that was from Rose Valley Hills, which was about three hours away from Memphis. He was open to the idea of supplying us if I detached myself from my father. No one in Memphis would work with me because it meant going against him. Having a supplier in Rose Valley Hills would allow me to be close enough to still supply the city, but far enough to not have to worry about their fear of him fucking up our business.

The other good thing about Ike was that he had an importing and exporting business. So if I didn’t want to sell directly to customers, I could buy from him and operate as a supplier anywhere throughout the United States. The options of working with someone new were seeming to be endless. The only hesitation I had was being from under my father’s protection. He had Memphis on lock, and that included law enforcement. We were able to get away with practically anything because of the men on his payroll and other political connections.

If I removed myself from his covering, it would truly be up to me and Omari to make sure what we built on our own would be just as impenetrable.

When Whiskee sent me that last text, I immediately knew something was wrong. I called and texted her and she didn’t answer. Since I’d told her that I needed to make sure she was safe at all times, I felt like she wouldn’t have randomly stopped texting me. For a while, I considered that she’d maybe fallen asleep. But that text really bothered me.

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