Turning Point by Edd McNair

Author:Edd McNair
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Urban Books
Published: 2012-10-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Flight followed Precious into the house. She was moving slow, eyes red and puffy from crying. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her into the place they called home. She went and sat down. Flight went over and poured her a cranberry and Grey Goose. He walked over and handed her the drink. He then twisted the top to the forty he’d pulled from the refrigerator. “You gonna be all right, baby?”

“Yeah, without my brothers I just don’t feel safe. It’s just hard to feel safe.”

“But I’m here, Precious. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I know you will try, but will you love me unconditionally? My brothers loved me and would give their life for me. Now Caddy gone and all Russ can do is bob his head. He all fucked up,” she screamed out, crying again.

He walked out over the table and pulled the brick out that Vic had given him right after the funeral at the church. He broke it down and weighed it out. Thirty-six ounces. This nigga on point.

There was a knock at the door.

“Get that. Should be Moe,” Flight said, knowing none of her peoples or his, except for Moe, knew where they lived.

Moe hugged Precious. “Shit gonna be a’ight.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Don’t hug my baby no more. We might have to walk behind your ass,” Flight said.

“Shit!”

“That shit ain’t funny,” Precious said.

“You talk to Herb, nigga?”

“Naw. He lost his privileges again.”

“That nigga be fuckin’ up,” Flight said.

“Naw. He was standing up for his. Herb just can’t walk away.”

“He’ll learn, or they’ll teach him,” Flight added.

“Actually, last time he called, he said he’d changed his life to Christ. He said he’ll be home in a couple months and he was gonna live a completely different life.”

“I feel him. I need God, church, something. I feel like I’m about to lose my mind.” Precious sipped on her “crangoose.”

“Niggas always get religious when they locked the fuck up,” Flight said.

“I talked to him. He seem for real, but you know Herb, religious or street, he ain’t nobody to try,” Moe said.

Flight went to the room and changed his clothes, kissed Precious, and burst. Him and Moe were pulling in the Park thirty minutes later with a brick of hard, ready for distribution. He gave nine ounces to two of the young’uns out the park, who him and Moe decided were next to take their place. Then they gave nine to two cats from Diggs Park across the street.

Flight gave four and a half to some young’un from Broadlawn that he carried across the bridge.

Then he had Money, thanks to Moe. This was Moe’s partner that he’d met through his brother, Herb. Money would buy the rest of the hard. Thirteen and a half ounces gone and looking for more, Money was a selling nigga. Everybody knew him as loud and friendly, but they knew he was prepared for jail and would never tell. His grand-pops was fifty-eight and still hustling weed and liquor.

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