Once at the door, I didn’t knock. I opened it and walked in. Rah’s head swung towards the door, and he looked surprised to see me.
 
 “Moses, what’s up?” As I closed the door, he stood and had the nerve to extend his hand to shake mine, acting as if things were completely normal between us.
 
 I hocked spit right at his outstretched hand. “Fuck your hand, nigga.”
 
 Rah’s eyebrow curled as he stepped back, staring at the rage in my eyes.
 
 “Where the fuck is the money you took from Carlos?” I spat. “That’s all I came for, nigga.”
 
 “I don’t have it.”
 
 I knew he would pull this shit. So, I reached for my burner and up’d it on him. Pointing it straight at his head, I started making my demands. “I strongly advise you not to play with me. You damn near got me killed, and I’m an accessory to murder because of your dumb ass. So, I need half that money. So, I’mma ask you one more time before I kill yo’ ass. Where the fuck is the money?”
 
 “I don’t–”
 
 I cocked the pistol, causing Rah’s eyes to buck. He immediately raised his hands and stepped back.
 
 “Don’t fucking play with me!” I barked.
 
 “I swear to God, Moses. Aaliyah ran off with that shit,” he hurriedly told me. “I’m popped. You think if I had that bread that I would be here, after that shit I did to Carlos?”
 
 Rah was a lying ass bitch, but he was right about that. I had assumed that once he got out of the hospital that he would be in California or somewhere further by now. I looked him over. A clown like him would have had on labels and been iced out if he still had that kind of bread. I noticed the desperation in his eyes. I knew he was telling the truth.
 
 Once I lowered my pistol, he stepped towards me.
 
 “Look, I know you feeling some type of way about what I did to Carlos,” he said. “But I did that forus.”
 
 I shook my head as I returned my pistol to my waist. “You did that foryourself. Fuck you.”
 
 “I can make this shit right,” Rah tried to assure me. “Me and you gotta focus on this music shit. We almost there.”
 
 “Oh, word?” I glared at him, fighting the urge to go against my promises and kill this punk ass bitch. “The meeting with Interscope, right?”
 
 “Hell yeah,” he swore with so much sincerity. “I talked to them earlier. We just need one banging single and we in there.”
 
 I had to laugh. But the chuckle was possessed with fury. “Word?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
 
 “Word.”
 
 “You a bitch ass nigga.”
 
 Rah’s pleading eyes suddenly turned cold and full of rage.Therewas the conniving motherfucker I knew. I shook my head,realizing that he was already ready to put on an act, but the real Rah was standing up.
 
 I spat, “I ain’t fucking with you no more.”
 
 His nostrils flared. “How you gonna make it then, lil’ nigga? I own you.”
 
 My rage boiled over to the point that Rah’s smirk weakened. Before I knew it, I had the gun aimed at his head. I squeezed the trigger, ready to end this shit once and for all…
 
 Click.
 
 But the gun jammed.
 
 Rah’s eyes went wide, but not with fear. It was more like shock blended with relief that I hadn’t just blown his brains all over his office. He didn’t even move. He just stood there, chest rising and falling, as if he knew he’d just been saved by a miracle.
 
 I bolted out of his office. Patrons froze, staring at me like I was out of my mind. Security’s eyes trailed me, mouths half-open, but they were slow to react, too stunned to put the pieces together. All I could think was getting out before Rah shook off his shock and pulled his own piece.
 
 I bolted out of the exit and kept running towards my ride. I knew I had just put myself on Rah’s hit list.