Graveyard Love by T.C. Littles

Author:T.C. Littles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Urban Books
Published: 2019-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

Rocko

“I swear that nigga has found his match in that one,” I spoke out loud while wiping sweat beads from my forehead. He and Tiff have been going head up for the last forty-five minutes straight; and from the sound of it, she wasn’t about to back down anytime soon. Whatever popped off between them, though, wasn’t my business, so I kept low in her basement getting stone-cold high. I didn’t have time to focus on the drama that Spade loved to dwell in. The deeper we got off into robbing cats, the more bodies I claimed under my belt. Shit was getting crazy. And even though I didn’t mind popping a cat, I detested not having control.

After I smoked the first blunt down to the nub and rolled another, I broke out one of the laundry bags of product, then dumped the contents onto the floor. Every piece of jewelry, crack, dollar bill, and pistol we robbed from them punks was well worth the blood on my hands; but Spade wilding out had me on another level. The plan was for us to empty the spot and flip the weight into more for us. We’d done just that, but Spade smoking 151s meant his turnup was about to be our downfall.

Instead of stuffing it all back in the bag and into the stash spot, I took a few stacks for myself, then snuck it out into the van. It was obvious that Spade couldn’t be trusted, so I wasn’t about to let him snort my come-up away. His new addiction wasn’t about to be my downfall. I knew my blood cousin better than his mother even did. We grew up like brothers, but him as a snorter was a stranger in my eyes. As bad as I wanted to be loyal, it was time for me to start separating into my own individuality.

“Aaah! Rocko! Come get this nigga up off me,” I heard Tiff yelling from two stories up.

I was hesitant to get into their drama, but she continuously kept yelling, and objects kept smashing into the wall. Because I didn’t want the cops to get called by a nosy neighbor, I sprang up and rushed toward the sound of their voices.

“I’ma have somebody do yo’ ass in, nigga. Get up out of my house.”

“Call who you wanna call. I ain’t leaving till you leaking. I know you snuck me, ho,” Spade shouted.

When I got to the top of the stairs, I froze, then fell out laughing. “Aye, y’all two are clowning.” As a grown-ass man, I didn’t follow reality shows, but the legendary Joseline and Stevie pregnancy scandal was the funniest gimmick on earth. And here right before my eyes was Tiff waving a piss test. If he knew like I knew, a wrath was coming if she didn’t get her way with that seed she claimed was brewing in her exposed belly.

“Don’t just stand there laughing,” she tried cutting into me. “Get your damn cousin to chill out or get him up out of my crib.

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