In Love With a Southern King by K.L. Hall

Author:K.L. Hall [HALL, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sullivan Group Publishing, LLC

21

Saint

He had done his share of thinking over the remainder of the week on the way he used to treat women. There were plenty of numbers in his phone that he could dial. He could have a female lined up for every hour on the clock, ready to give it up to him if he wanted. He knew that anything worth having never came easy, so instead of entertaining a random female for some easy pussy, he decided to catch up with his boy, Lucky. He had been so busy trying to maintain a successful life and work balance that he rarely got the time to kick it with him, and leave the business to the side.

Saint pulled into the parking spot of a bar downtown, and shut the engine off. He walked in and sat by the bar, waiting for his boy Lucky to arrive. Before he knew it, Lucky was walking over to meet him.

“What’s up?” Saint asked, dapping him up.

“Ain’t shit,” Lucky said as he took a seat beside him.

“What’s been going on?”

“Shit, just making this money. You know how that goes.”

Saint nodded. “Yeah, I feel you.”

After the two of them ordered a couple drinks and wings, Lucky spoke up.

“Yo, you remember Trigga, right?” he asked.

“From high school?”

“Yeah, you know when he got set up all those years ago?”

“How could I forget that? The nigga went to go sell a couple pounds of coke alone, and got stabbed in the face.”

“And robbed,” Lucky added.

“Shit still gives me chills,” Saint said. Just like his boy, Saint knew what being a drug dealer entailed. It was a 50/50 gamble with no easy way out. Someone could either make it big, or pay with their lives.

Saint took a sip of his drink and continued. “We’ve been in this game a long time.”

“Hell yeah,” Lucky nodded.

“You ever think about getting out? We’ve been doing this since we were teenagers with no hem-ups. We’ve been real blessed, and you know I’m not even big on religion like that.”

“Lucky is more like it. But I can’t leave the game. It needs me just as much as I need it.”

Saint nodded. “I feel that. I guess there ain’t no sense in turning back now. Yo, I remember when we used to sell like four or five pounds of weed a week in high school. We were always paranoid when they brought the dogs in. I was always on edge,” he chuckled.

Lucky laughed.

“You? Nigga, I don’t know if it was the rush or what, but I swear that every time I saw a cop, my heart would fall straight out of my chest. I wasn’t worried about shit else back then but the money. My grades were shit and everything and I didn’t even care, but we did good for ourselves, man. You got the club, and we’re making the type of money we never would’ve even dreamed about.”

“Hell yeah. We started out getting weed on fronts and had no clue what the hell we were doing, and now we can buy damn near anything we want.

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