So Gone - By Jennifer Luckett Page 0,45

still belonged to me.

“Daddy, she was talkin’ ‘bout you,” Devin tattled comin’ out of the store pointing at Mo’.

I flipped to beast mode in less than a second.

“No, Baby. Don’t go there!” pleaded Mika as she made her way over to me, and blocked my path. “If I’m your woman, you’re going to have to let that go,” she said staring into my eyes.

“It ain’t even ‘bout that,” I grunted as I moved Mika out of the way wit’ my arm trying to downplay my jealousy.

Mo’ was sitting in another nigga's whip, like the shit was all good. I thought I had shown her my getdown when I punked the first lame she tried to go out with. I guess she needed a reminder that the niggas she hollered at couldn’t stand up to a beast.

“Bitch, bring yo’ ass over here! Don’t make me come get you!” I warned.

She rolled the car’s window down. “The bitch that you are referring to is the one that gave birth to your disrespectful ass,” she tossed back at me.

“Oh, you tough now, huh?” I started in her direction. “I’m ‘bout to show you that slick mouth bitches get beat like they're a nigga.”

I glanced over at her dude. “And this li'l pussy you wit’ bet' not say shit or I’ma dead his ass.” I pulled out my strap.

“No, Blunt!” Mika cried out.

“Devin, get in the car with your brother and don't get out!” I barked at my son. It was about to pop off and that was that!

The dude with Mo' stepped up like he was not afraid of a gun. “Blunt, I see you’re still thuggin’,” he said.

It had been a few years since I had seen him, but I recognized the big homie, Rocco, instantly. “Till I die,” I vowed.

“A man can rush his death,” he said.

I looked down by his side and saw the burner in his hand. I knew he was trained to go. Rocco was an OG who was a street legend in the ATL. We were from the same hood in Zone One. Being that he was six or seven years older than me, I had looked up to him when I was coming up. His swag was a trillion, and his gangsta was not to be tested. He was a leader of a click called The Millionaire Boys.

Back in the days, Rocco schooled me on every aspect of the game, from pumping work to the ski mask way, to money laundering to going legit. Which is what he had done before the feds started knocking off his whole click. By the time those alphabet boys showed up at Rocco’s door, he was as clean as a whistle. I respected the big homie, but he would have to respect me too.

“This is my woman, Fam. You taught me to go hard for mines, and that’s what I’m willing to do. I’ll kill or die over shawdy. What about you?” I issued a challenge.

“Blunt, if you murk me, you can’t live in this city no more. I’m outta the game, but the streets still ride for me. I’ll ride hard for myself. You kno’ that,” he said.

We stood face to face, burners ready to pop off. I didn't give a damn how far we went back, it was whatever wit' me. But Rocco didn't test my gun. He spoke softly and with respect.

“Man, looks like you have yourself a nice lady on your side and a coupla li’l seeds too. Be content wit’ that and don’t let jealousy take you out the game,” he advised.

Mika stood beside me nodding in agreeance.

“Only a clown tries to make a woman stay wit’ him. Real niggas don’t want what don’t want them.”

I returned my heater to my waist and acknowledged the wisdom. “You’re right, Big Homie,” I conceded.

We gave each other a gangsta hug.

“Slow down,” he warned before sliding behind the wheel of his whip.

As I watched Rocco drive off with Mo' in the passenger seat, I was salty inside. I stood there wondering how I would ever be able to mend her broken hear and win her back.

I didn't have the answer, but I knew that I would never let her go.

The Unpredicted Happens

Molaysia

So, there I was sitting on the front seat after I rolled the window up observing the action that was taking place between Blunt and Rocco. I was wondering why they had just given each other a brotherly hug. I could hear a few words that they