Sky's The Limit

xxiii

twenty three | ishaan

I was with Autumn.

It'd been a hectic month, but one thing remained, and that was my shorty.

I was currently being weighed down by the last four grams of weed I had stashed. Although I preferred puffing smoke with my boys, if not alone, I didn't want to share the remains of the best pack I'd ever had with anyone other than Primrose.

Besides, with midterms behind us, and school ramping up for finals, I thought we could use a little break before hitting our last stride until Christmas.

What's the 411? was looping in my stereo, specifically the latest rendition of our favorite song— "Sweet Thing." Autumn was humming along softly with her head propped against my back.

We were supposed to be relaxing, but shorty was getting ahead on assignments that wouldn't be due for another week or so. She was the first person I'd seen working efficiently under the influence of herb.

"A woman's work is never done," she told me after I'd spent nearly ten minutes distracting her from her paperwork.

So, now, we lay in silence. I figured I'd jot some rhymes, sketch something just to keep myself busy, but I was too comfortable to reach for any utensils.

Besides, I didn't want to disturb Autumn's position. So, I just lied there, my arms folded under my head and over my pillow.

That was until there was a knock at the door. I sighed deeply while my girlfriend lifted herself off of me. Slowly, I rolled off my bed and approached the front door.

Through the peephole, I witnessed Will's presence. He loved showin' up to my crib unannounced.

"Yo, what's up?" I greeted, our hands clasping and our shoulders bumping.

"What's up?" he responded.

It'd been a while since I last saw him. Between keeping up with school work, accompanying Cris to cyphers and battles, helping Cris keep her pen sharp, and maintaining my relationship with Autumn— I was a busy man.

I didn't know any details of Will's promotion in the ranks, but the whispers I caught in the streets were of things that took a lot of time (and ruthlessness) to handle. There was no doubt that he was a busy man too.

The last time we'd really been in the same space was when we went hunting for Maceo. The plan was to get to him before Tony did.

As far as we could tell, we accomplished our goal.

We caught him just as he was coming out of a restaurant in Harlem. Words were exchanged, blame was placed, denial was had, and just as quickly as Will and I had ambushed him, we were parting ways.

Nothing was solved. Nothing else was done or said.

The only thing that followed was a phone call from Nova, saying that I.V. would have to operate as a trio for a while.

What the fuck was a while?

Since then, things have cooled off a bit— nah, fuck that. Things didn't just cool down. Shit was great!

I didn't realize it until Tony was gone, but there was a certain intensity that loomed when he was around. It was great for I.V.— for our imagery, for our presence as MC's— but personally, I didn't know if I wanted too much of that energy with me as I moved around.

I guess my mother's paranoia was starting to bleed into me.

The thought of Tony returning gave me relief— although there'd be no telling when that relief would be had— but with the feds getting more intense in their pursuit to take down drug dealers, I didn't know if I was ready to disturb the peace that I'd been revelling in, amidst the mayhem.