Page 8 of Gang of Roses: Dice

“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Monroe.”

This was unbelievable. The last thing I thought would happen tonight was to be propositioned.

Fuck it. I was down for the ride.

Chapter 1

Ritz “Radar” Monroe

This dusty negro had me out here in this damn heat, but once I was notified about his whereabouts, I made my move.

I was too busy of a man to be hunting down a muthafucka over money he already knew he owed me.

Was I mad? Nope. I was pissed the fuck off.

But there was one thing a true gambler couldn’t resist…gambling. Even when it could cost them their life. For gamblers who had no wins, their addiction was just as powerful as a drug addict fighting that monkey on their back. If I’m being honest, it was one of the main reasons I chose this business. The money was good; it literally worked for you while you slept.

The odds of winning big were few, but the chances you would continue to feed the never-full monster were extremely high, and that was like counting dollar signs in my sleep. Monroe’s Casino was the only one in Magnolia Valley, making it a lucrative establishment.

But just like the player, the house has to pay out every now and again; that was the business. But gambling with my money and running off is when the house stepped out in human form to find your ass.

“Please, Radar, man. I’ma get yo’ money.” Kodak’s words brought my murderous thoughts back into the room.

“The time to pay me back has passed, Kodak.”

“S-Shit just got sticky, but listen—listen, man. If you can just give me more time, I swear you gon’ get yo’ money. That’s on my mama, Radar. I promise you, man, that’s on Ma’Dukes,” he stammered.

“On yo’ mama, huh?” I questioned with a blank stare.

“Man, I swear on my mama. You got my word,” he said, while dragging his hand from his forehead to his chest, then from one shoulder to the next, making a cross. My jaw tightened.

I guess this was his bullshit attempt to make this sound more believable.

“Hmm.”

That was about all I could give at the moment. I didn’t like chasing down no man; the thought alone had me tense. I hated stepping out of my present to visit my past, but everywhere I was having to remind a nigga I was still Radar in these streets when I needed to be.

I walked around the room, taking my time as I looked at the pictures covering the wall. Everyone was quiet, waiting to see the verdict. Kodak’s breathing was damn near louder than my footsteps.

I stopped in front of a portrait.

Grabbing the picture, there stood his beautiful mother, Denise. If she could speak from the grave, I would have loved to see her smack fire from his ass for choosing to gamble her life, knowing damn well that if given the chance, he would be back in this position again.

“R-Radar, just a little bit more t-time. That’s all I need.”

He begged.

“Kodak, you know…I hate a stuttering ass nigga, it makes you look weak.”

He just nodded his head.

“Kodak, you had time, and as much as I hate to do this to you, you knew the minute I had to step from behind my desk and hunt you down in this heat, it was gonna be a problem. I can’t let you slide this time. You let a muthafucka keep sliding. They gon’ fuck around and think yo’ ass a waterpark.”

“That’s not me, Radar, and you know that man. Ritz dawg, we grew up together.”

He thought calling out my government was going to change the outcome. That shit pissed me off because if the muthafucka could remember we grew up on the same block, then he had the same memories I had when a bitch nigga called themselves crossing me.

“Then you should know I don’t play bout my fuckin’ money. I never have and I never will. Kodak, your habit is nasty. It was my fault for trusting your word. It’s your fault for not standing on your word. All a man has at the end of the day, regardless of his tax bracket, is his word. And you prove your word is not bond…that’s your fault. Unfortunately, your fault cost you your life.” I looked over to the guys waiting for my command.