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“Well, M—oh. Shit.” “Not right now, Kleu.” “I’m not thinking about you anymore,” she divulged. “I’m more concerned with this damsel in distress. Who do I need to beat up, babe? I fight niggas, too. Well, my man does. But still.”
“You went and stole somebody’s wife, Mercer? What the hell?” “Shit, in my defense, if that nigga was at the house when I came through to get my paper, his wife wouldn’t have been taken.”
Chem was well-calculated and cautious until it came down to the people he loved. Then, all bets were off. He’d show up on any block, ready to make believers out of motherfuckers, no matter what their credentials were.
His direction changed, and he began heading in my direction instead of toward the aisles. “Don’t step to me, nigga, or it’ll be the last fucking step you make,” I warned.
