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That just makes me smile, “No, but I know mine. And I promise you, that’s not a road you want to go down. Now apologize to my wife. Or you won’t have to worry about making it to your attorney. Or even making it another day.”

The look in my eyes could’ve killed an entire community. He’s quaking with fear, realizing that his life now depends on my mood.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I really am,” he finally submits in a shaky voice. Not good enough. “Look her in the eyes and say it, bitch.”

This time, he clears his throat and focuses right in on her.

“I’m sorry!” he squeals with sincerity in his voice. I finally let him go, pushing him out of our way. He trips over his feet trying to get away, running back over to his phone before getting completely out of dodge.

“And change your cologne too!” I scream towards him, “The shit smells like toilet water!”

“Baby, come on here,” Morgan begs, hooking me by the arm, “Before you have us both in jail fucking around with these white people. You know the East doesn't play around.”

“Neither do I. Not when it comes to you.”

She spins around to stand right in front of me. Her hands roam my entire chest, something that’s always calmed me down in the past.

“Breathe, baby,” she pleads, kissing me on the neck, “You’re all riled up.”

“I’m cool, bae. I just hate when mothafuckas try you.”

“Well, you sure showed him, didn’t you?” Her tone is sarcastic, but she has a point. I’ve been trying to do better with controlling my temper. Most of the time, I’ve done good. But then there’s other times like this one where I realize I’m still a work in progress. Which is a start. I’d rather own up to it than deny it completely.

I take a second to actually calm down, inhaling and exhaling under Morgan’s command. Once I’m back to a chill state, we continue walking towards the food truck. The name of it becomes clearer as we grow closer. Skizzy’s Glizzy’s. The wildest name for a hot dog and brat spot I’ve ever heard. Considering who owns it, I’m not even surprised.

After our initial run-in, I decided to take Skizzy under my wing. First, I had him working as another one of my coffee runners. Handling my samples, unloading products from the delivery truck, shit like that. That’s where I first saw the potential in him. He has a brain on him. He’s quick on his feet, good with math and even better with sales. The little nigga just needed guidance. And to stay away from my sister for a while. Once he showed me said potential, we came up with a plan to get him out here with his own business. Working for me would only get him so far.

While I could’ve had him working for me in the shop like Destiny, it wasn’t enough. Especially considering how distracted he’d be around her. The true growth in a man comes with knowing how to handle himself out here. So, helping him gain ownership of his own food truck felt more effective. Selling hot dogs wasn’t my idea, though. Especially with that name. That’s all on him. But, he’s been killing it. Especially on the Eastside, where people spend most of the afternoon drunk, looking for a quick meal to subside their intoxication.

Needless to say, I’m still proud of him. He’s no longer just a punk kid slashing tires and causing trouble on the streets. He’s becoming a man now. More responsible. He stays busy. In some ways, he’s become the little brother I’ve been hoping Rayne would be.

Skizzy’s taking orders with his older sister Leah helping him maintain. She’s really the only family he has left. His mother has been deceased for two years due to Ovarian cancer. His father is an alcoholic. His uncles are in the streets. Neither of which are what you’d describe as role models. It’s like they were doomed from the start. At least they would've been, had fate not stepped in.

Despite their upbringing, the two of them together are a pretty dynamic duo. Keeping each other sane, alive and out of trouble. I make sure to look for them too, sending cash and resources when need be. While they share a resemblance in the face, personality wise, they’re completely opposite. Leah is a straight shooter, always serious, rarely smiling. She’s all about her business and her funds. Whereas Skizzy’s goofy ass is the typical class clown. Always with a joke while retaining a business mind.

He throws me a quick grin upon seeing us, throwing a finger up to further communicate. I nod in his direction, mouthing to him to take his time. We’re in no rush. As we wait, I scan over his rather...creative menu. Most of the names are wild at the least and fuckin’ insane at best.

Especially the one I actually have a taste for. The number five. A Glizzinator with extra Skizzy sauce. A very interesting way of describing a brat with chipotle ketchup and red peppers.

“We’ve got a number three here,” he shouts in reference to another customer, “A loaded Glizzy, thick with extra cream sauce.”

Morgan turns my way with her lips folded in, struggling not to crack up. I’m not exactly sure who came up with the meal names between him and big sis, but I assume it to be Leah. Skizzy repeats the order again, which finally makes our childish asses laugh out of view before moving up in the line, next to order. Skizzy immediately becomes animated once we’re close.

“What’s good, family,” he sings, stretching his arm out to dap both me and Morgan.

“What’s up, kid?”

“Shit, I can’t call it,” he leans on the window, “Just trying to maintain, really.”

“Word,” I quickly nod to Leah. She responds in kind before quickly and shyly disappearing further into the truck. She’s not exactly Whitley from A Different World personality wise. If Aja Wilson and Snoop from the Wire had a child, you’d have Leah. Pretty, wise and reserved. But will kick a grown man’s ass if need be. She’s still cool, nonetheless.

“How’s business?” Morgan interjects, leaning her head onto my shoulder.

“Ahh, business is business. We’ve had a few people here and there. It’s not too busy yet. But with these festivals starting up soon, we’re about to get crazy paid.”

“I feel that. You’re working Bastille days, right?”

“Correct, my surrogate brother and I expect to see you there too.”