Page 25 of Gang of Roses: Dice

He paused for a second before shutting the Jeep door.

“Hunni, I can’t wait, ‘cause I done packed some of me and The Problem’s things. Soon as y’all finish knocking over that bank, we gone disappear for a little while.”

I smiled. Coca always acted dramatic before a job, but I knew it came from a place of love. Every time we geared up for a heist, he’d joke his way through the anxiety like laughing could keep bullets from finding us.

“I’m sure you have, but this job should be quick, and you can get a break.”

“Damn, you just couldn’t pick a regular job.”

He rolled his eyes.

“What’s the thrill in that? But I’m serious, we gonna take a break.”

“You said that last time.” He pointed a finger at me. “Now, if we ain’t here when you get back, some white man driving an eighteen-wheeler got us tied up in the truck bed. Nine outta ten, he’ll be wearing one of them checkered shirts, chewing tobacco, around six feet tall, and weighing over three hundred pounds.”

He stopped, thinking.

“Wait... come to think of it, it might be a skinny white man with black-rimmed glasses.”

I laughed.

“Yo’ ass watch too much TV.”

“Chile, boo, this comes from a man on TikTok. He teaches us ‘How to Spot a Killer.’"

“Seriously?”

“Yup!” Coca said, popping the P. “Sis, I refuse to be somebody’s documentary.”

I shook my head.

“Coca, what do you see when you look at me?” I asked, waiting for his answer.

He studied me from head to toe.

“Hmmm... a bougie diva.”

“I hate to break it to you, but the class not working.”

Coca laughed.

“I know exactly who you are. You the one about to risk her life again, and I’m the one stuck praying you bring yo’ hardheaded ass back home.”

For a split second, our eyes met.

“I will,” I said softly.

He nodded once, satisfied enough to let it go.

“Good. Now let’s go see what Pop Pop and them old fools over there got going on.”

Coca could joke through almost anything, but I knew him well enough to hear the fear hiding behind every punchline.

The men on the porch turned their heads as soon as they heard us going back and forth. Pop Pop followed their gaze, trying his best to see who it was. If he would just pull his glasses down that sat on top of his head, he could see. Let him tell it, they cramped his swag, as if over-squeezing his lids together was gonna work. Once he heard our voices, he spoke up.

“Well, hell... would you looka there. It’s Hips and Hoola Hoop. I know damn well my grandson betta be wit’ y’all.”

See? This was exactly what I was talking about; he had yet to spot Revv.