Page 109 of Tangled Hearts
He tried to shake it off as he pulled up to one of his trap spots but even here, he missed her presence.
When Knycole started college, she pulled back from cooking dope and being around the way. He wanted it that way because he needed her head in those books and not worrying about him. He would bring the money home, pay the bills, make sure she got everything she needed and wanted.
He parked and got out of the car, hiking his jeans up with each step.
A couple of his boys were posted up, nodding when they saw him.
“Yo, Hov, what’s good?” one of them called, sliding a bag across the table.
Hov scanned the room. “Y’all straight?”
Everything seemed to be running smoothly. Finally, he had some solid niggas running the block so he didn’t have to show his face too much. Christian was the supplier, but he’d taught Hov that being inaccessible was the goal. Told him to form a solid team and that way he could show up to PTA meetings with his son without worrying about money being made.
Everything Christian learned from his pops, he taught Hov, and Hov multiplied it.
“Yea, we good. Everything moving,” another one said, slapping hands with Hov. “You sliding to the park later? City gon’ be thick tonight.”
Hov smirked. “Yea, I’ll swing through. Keep shit light, though. Ain’t no room for stupid shit.”
They nodded, and he dapped them up before heading back out.
The evening air hit him differently when he stepped back outside. He stopped short when he noticed movement acrossthe street. An older Black woman was planting a realtor sign in the yard of a beat-down, abandoned house. The siding was peeling, windows boarded up, but she was smiling like she saw something no one else could.
Hov’s curiosity pulled him forward. “How much?” He called from across the street, looking both ways before crossing.
She looked up, a little startled at first, then her lips curved into a knowing smile. “You mean the house?”
He chucked, licking his lips at the curve of her hips. “Yea.”
“Depends,” she said, dusting her hands off. Her voice was smooth, carrying years of experience. “Why? You tryna buy it or you just asking?”
Hov shrugged, but his eyes stayed on the house. “I own a few already. But this one… this in my hood. So how much it cost?”
She studied him for a second, then tilted her head. “You ever think about buying the block instead of supplying it?”
Her words hit him hard. He chuckled, but it wasn’t out of humor. “You bold, ma’am.”
“I’ve been called worse,” she said. “Listen, young man?—”
“Quameek,” Hov gave his name.
“Sassy,” she introduced, smirking while holding her hand out for him to shake. He returned the gesture. “You clearly got money. That’s obvious.” She eyed the diamond grill in his mouth. “But money isn’t the same as power. Power is ownership.”
“How much?” Hov asked again, already tired of the back and forth.
She turned, one brow raised. “That depends. You really trying to buy it or just curious?”
He smirked. “Both.”
She brushed her hands together, then propped them on her hips. “You from around here?”
“Born and raised,” Hov said, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Why? You checking paperwork?”
Sassy laughed. “Baby, I don’t check paperwork. I check intentions. What would you even do with this place?”
“Fix it,” he said, like it was obvious. “Flip it, maybe keep it. I really don’t know.”
“Oh, so you dabble.” Her eyes skimmed him up and down, curious now. “That’s cute.”
