After an hour drive, Kross arrived back in Miami and made a call for Noonie to meet him at the body shop.
“Man, what the fuck you get into?!” Noonie stressed once he saw all the bullet holes that were nestled in the body and bullet proof windows of Kross’ newly purchased Maybach.
Kross hopped out of the car and offered Noonie a nonchalant shrug. “I introduced myself to them Zone 7 niggas. I don’t think we hit it off,” he said as he shook his head, his words followed by a deep chuckle.
Noonie, whose eyes widened at Kross, was unable to wrap his head around the fact that he pulled a stunt like this solo. “Yo, K, what the fuck you on right now?! What made you think it was a good idea to roll up on them niggas by yourself?!”
Again, a nonchalant shrug rolled off Kross’ shoulders. “‘Cause I felt like it,” he said in response to his cousin with an emotionless expression etched on his face.
Kross wasn’t about to get lectured on how what he did could have gone left. He knew that, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He had his time to grieve and deal with the loss of Cassie, and now that Aniyis was officially off the ventilator, he knew his son had a strong chance of surviving. He wasn’t about to let another day go by without him getting his get back. Whether thatconsisted of him rolling solo or with his crew was up to how he was feeling.
Noonie followed him into the body shop, still wanting to get on his ass about how fucking careless and stupid he was being, but he opted to save that for later.
“What’s up? Serge in today?” Kross asked the guy at the front desk. It had been years since he got his car serviced at 305 Auto, but he knew the owner Serge would always look out for him.
The guy at the front desk nodded and went to go retrieve Serge. Moments later, he emerged from the back with a towel in hand to wipe away some of the paint that managed to get on him while working. Once he noticed it was Kross and Noonie who were summoning him, a smile casted onto his face, showcasing his permanent gold grills.
“Nigga, when the fuck you get out?!” He made his way around the counter to dap Kross up.
“A month ago, man. I just been laying low,” Kross enlightened him as they shared a hug.
“Man, I heard about what happened to your baby mama. My condolences, fam.”
At the mention of Cassie, Kross’ jaw clenched before he let out a breath. “‘Preciate that, Serge. I need you to do some work on my whip for me. I need it done by the end of the week.”
He scratched the back of his head, debating on whether he could handle working on Kross’ car on top of the cars he already had in the shop. “Man, you know if I could, I would, but I’m backed up right now.”
Kross shifted his gaze from Serge to look over his shoulder at Noonie. An amused smirk etched Noonie’s face since he knew Kross wasn’t about to take no for an answer.
“Make it happen, Serge. Remember, we’re keeping this spot untouched. Shit could go left if you can’t uphold your part of the deal,” Kross reminded him.
“I know, but I pay y’all for that,” Serge responded in a hushed tone so his employees wouldn’t hear the nature of the conversation.
Kross sat his hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Not enough, nigga,” he gritted in a cold and menacing tone. “I need my car done by the end of the week. Make it happen.”
He dangled the keys in front of Serge’s face so he could take them. Feeling as though he was backed into a corner, Serge took the keys from Kross and handed them over to one of his employees so they could pull it into the garage.
A content smirk graced Kross’ face. He was glad that Serge didn’t make him step out of character. After discussing a few more details regarding his car, Kross led the way out of the body shop with Noonie hot on his trail.
“Fam, what the fuck happened out there in Pompano?” Noonie grilled him as they got into his car.
“I closed the deal on those apartments. I should have at least two of the units up and running in a few weeks so we can set up shop,” he enlightened Noonie, knowing he didn’t give a damn about that. What he really wanted to know was why bullets went spraying.
As expected, Noonie smacked his lips and cut his eyes at his cousin. “Look, K. I get it. You out for blood because of how they did Cassie and Aniyis, but you can’t be out here acting like a fucking crashout. You just got out of a seven-year bid. Sliding on some niggas solo is wild.”
“Nah, what’s wild is y’all knowing them niggas sprayed down Cassie’s car with my jit in it and y’all waited a whole month to put me up on game,” he snarled with a shake of his head. “If it had been y’all’s baby mama and jit in that car, I would’ve spun on them niggas before y’all even stepped out of them FDC gates. You feel me? I move however the fuck I wanna move. If y’allniggas can’t understand that, then fall the fuck back ‘cause I can wipe these niggas out with or without y’all. Believe that.”
“When have you ever needed me to slide on some niggas and I ain’t pull through? This shit not gone happen overnight, and I need you to get that shit through your thick-ass skull, Kross. You full of anger and seeing red, but if you make one wrong move, it could cost you your fucking life, cuz. I’m riding with you through whatever, but I’m not crashing out with your ass.”
“A’ight, man.”
Noonie was hoping he actually got through to his cousin and he just wasn’t playing it off to get him to shut the fuck up. With Kross, you never really knew until it was too late. With these Zone 7 niggas, who were ballsy enough to pull the trigger on an innocent female and child, Noonie didn’t want shit to hit the fan and Kross make the wrong move off emotion. He needed him to think smart and move strategically. He decided to cut Kross some slack and let the conversion die.
“Aye, slide through to Sunny’s. It’s time to collect,” Kross instructed him.
Noonie shook his head. “Nah, bruh. Ezekiel pushed collection day back to the middle of the month.”
“The fuck?” He turned his lip up at the change his little brother made. “Man, that don’t got shit to do with me. I’m back now, so collection day is whenever the fuck I say it is.”
