Page 150 of Anything Necessary for Her
ONE WEEK LATER . . .
Since Wyatt had beenon his shit, I wanted to reward him. He hadn’t been giving me too many issues out of the ordinary, and he’d been going to his shifts at the diner like clockwork.
He was at the women’s center today, spending his Saturday helping out, so I wanted to scoop him up and give him the rest of the day off.
Pulling up to the front, I expected to see him out there but didn’t. Figuring he had been given duties inside today, I hopped out the whip, saying what’s up to a few of the niggas guarding the door that knew me.
“You seen Wyatt?” I queried one nigga named Cash.
When he looked at his homie as if he didn’t know what to say, I immediately saw red.
“He—”
“Nah, I askedyoua question, nigga.” I intercepted his homie’s statement.
“Behind the building,” he replied instantly, realizing how stupid it was to protect Wyatt’s ass.
Storming down the block and around the corner, I saw it was an alley that I heard voices flowing from.
As soon as I ventured down in it, I spotted Wyatt squatted to the floor with a bunch of other niggas, jacking his hand before shooting the dice out onto the gravelly alleyway.
“Fuck is wrong with you, niggas!” I barked, making everybody jump to their feet and race off. Wyatt tried to as well, but I snatched his ass back by the collar.
“That bitch ass nigga stole all the cash ’cause of you!” He snapped on me as I slammed him into the wall.
“Shut up!” I roared in his face. “Fuck is you doing? Back here fucking gambling! Not only that, this Sif’s wife’s shit! That nigga find out and you fucked!”
“Fuck you and bitch ass Sif!” Wyatt spat, and I couldn’t hold back.
I folded his ass in half with a knee to the stomach, then delivered two solid ass uppercuts, making him collapse to the ground. Before he was even down good, I sent my shoe into his stomach, causing him to gag and yowl.
“Fuck who?” I asked, going across his face back-to-back as a crowd started to form. “Who? Young punk!”
“Aight!” He cried, coughing, moaning, and groaning.
“Get yo’ ass up!” I yoked him to his feet, dragging him around the corner and then another corner to toss his ass into the passenger side of my whip. “What the fuck is wrong with you, nigga? Real shit,” I questioned as soon as I got into the car.
I didn’t understand niggas like Wyatt who wanted to do shit they didn’t have to. This lifestyle wasn’t pretty, fun, or none of that shit; yet, muthafuckas whose families resided in Beverly Hills always migrated this way in effort to be down.
Granted, Wyatt wasn’t as privileged, but he was still attempting to dip his foot into some shit that he didn’t have to.
Sighing, he grabbed a napkin from my glove compartment to wipe his bleeding mouth.
“The diner money ain’t much ’cause I got minor hours, and this shit here is for free.” He gestured toward the women’s center we were still parked in front of. “I need my own money but more of it. It’s shit I wanna do, and them little ass checks from the diner is barely enough for me to take a bitch to the movies and handle business like driving school and some other shit. In order to do what I gotta do, I need to either sell or gamble.”
“Nah, you ain’t gotta do shit. I make you work to keep yo’ ass occupied, not ’cause it’s an issue breaking you off when necessary. You not grown, Wyatt, so when you need shit that cost money, that’s where I come in. Just speak the fuck up.”
“I want my own money.”
“Yougotyo’ownmoney coming from the diner, little nigga. Everything else is for me to handle. You only wanna do this stupid shit ’cause you think it’s a cooler look than clocking in somewhere or making honest money.” I stared at him, but he wouldn’t look my way, lowering his head as he fidgeted. “I’m gon’ show you some shit.” I started my whip, yielded, then pulled off from the curb.
After a while of driving with the absence of conversation and only music, we ended up at Inglewood Cemetery. The construction was crazy, so I had to find the best parking spot in order to hit all the areas I planned to.
“Why we here?” Wyatt frowned, and I ignored him, climbing out of the car.
He watched me for a moment before following my lead and then trailing me onto the grassy area filled with plots and headstones.
We meandered a bit, me mainly trying to remember where everybody was since, although they were in the same location, they were spread the fuck out. We may have been family through the streets, but it wasn’t by blood, and therefore, none of the old homies were buried near one another.
