Page 46 of Gang of Roses: Dice

The dude wasn't no damn pushover because before I knew it, this fruity ass nigga had a Glock trained on us. The gun must've been by the door because it damn sure wasn't in his hand when he first opened it.

I smirked.

He had heart.

“Would you look at here, Radar,” Oats teased, lifting his tool. “I was praying fo' some action.”

I knew his pistol was coming out the minute we bulldozed our way inside. What I didn't expect was for the gay guy to pull one too.

“Y'all gotta go.”

“Look, I don't know yo' name, and I hate guessing what damn pronoun y'all like to be called only for your ass to get mad because I called what the hell I saw. But you gon' need to put that down. Although you being brave, this nigga right here trigger-happy and protective. Thank God he ain't killed your ass for pulling, 'cause I would've rode all this way for nothing.”

His stance was solid, but his arm had just enough shake to tell me he wasn't looking for a gunfight.

He was only protecting himself, and letting a shot ring out was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Look, Rit⁠—”

He started before cutting himself off. You could see the exact moment he mentally cursed himself.

“So, like I thought... you know exactly who I am, so lower yo’ weapon. We not trying to hurt you.”

“Fuck a hurt. More like kill if he don’t tuck that shit back where the hell he found it.”

Oats mugged like he was utterly disgusted that he had to use the word tuck, wondering where the gun had even appeared.

I just shook my head.

We’d both lay his ass down if it came to that, but this fool didn’t ask questions. It was action and reaction with him. Me? I needed a second to process my next move. Oats saw what the hell he wanted to see. I observed everything. He hated my approach, and I for damn sure hated his, but both had their place depending on the situation. However, this wasn’t one of them.

I was about to reason with him one more time when a noise echoed from deeper inside the cabin. Without taking his eyes off us, the dude reached up and placed the Glock on a nearby shelf.

At the same time, Oats shifted his strap from the guy to the hallway.

“Coca... Coca... Coca...”

A whiny little voice echoed through the cabin as padded feet hurried down the hallway.

“What the fuck is that?” Oats asked, completely unaware that this was one of the main reasons we were standing in this cabin.

The dude mugged Oats.

“Put that away.”

“Absolutely the fuck not, Twister. If you hiding kids in this muthafucka you gon be one dead bitch today.”

I stood there like I was at a damn gender reveal.

“In here, Revv!” the dude yelled.

Revv?

The little feet got closer.

My mind started running through everything Tom had uncovered on Ms. Global Jamerson.

No questions had really been asked that night.