“Shit you know I’m in” Boogie said a bit too eagerly. He wasn’t one of my day one niggas but he had put in a lot of work, even catching a couple of bodies for me over the years to earn his spot as second in command. He was a few years younger than us so there was some ways that he moved that I didn’t like, but he still had time in.

The brothers, Emmanuel, known as God on the streets and Damien, known as Diablo looked at each other having a conversation with their eyes. Over the years I had learned that any decision they made they made together. Neither of them were big in the drug game. Emmanuel dealt mostly in guns but he did have a few trap houses in Orlando. He got his work from me so I knew he made 40-50 stacks a week off of them. Damien didn’t really fuck with drugs at all, he stuck to the wetworks. His ass was deadly as fuck. He got paid big money for laying niggas down. I was surprised to see he was back in town. Last I heard he was on the west coast on some cartel shit.

Lastly I looked at Pop who had a stone cold look on his face. He was the only call that I wish I hadn’t had to make. At 33, Pop was the oldest one of us. I couldn’t count the times that he and his wife had taken me in when my mom put me out. He was the first one to put me on and I felt like I owed everything to him. I knew when he stepped out the life when Marjorie got sick that was the best decision for him. Here I go fucking it up.

“Damn my nigga, I knew you wanted me back in the game but you ain’t had to set it out like that. I better brush up on my Espagnol” he laughed, dapping me up. As he sat back down I could see him thinking really hard but if he said he was in his word was bond.