GRIT (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 2) by Tiana Laveen Page A

raggedy piece of shit…always trying to look hard and cool when there’s a crowd around, but if it was just me and you standing here, you’d piss on yourself if I ran up on you.”
    “I’m not scared of you, Zenith. You think ’cause you big, got tats and a few muscles, I’m supposed to be scared, huh?” The little dude muscled up, like he wanted a sample, see what he was made of.
    “I’ll fuck you up, little boy, and not even get winded. Don’t believe me? Tell these mothafuckas to give us just two minutes alone; hell, just sixty seconds would do. They’d come back and you’d need a body bag, or in your case, a small sandwich Ziploc would suffice and there’d still be room left over.”
    “Stop this shit!” Javier hollered out, raising his hand in the air.
    “No, Javier! Somebody needs to tell this son of a bitch what we’ve all been sayin’ behind his back,” Miguel barked, then got back on Zenith. “You got this chance you’d probably never have gotten without us, and fucked up what we had in the process. I ain’t your friend, but Javier is… and he’s my blood, so you mess him over, you mess me over, too. You kept missing practice to go and fuck Silver. You act like you ain’t never had no damn pussy before! You let a female come between you and the band, punk ass bitch!”
    Zenith made a mad dash towards the bastard, lunging, reaching out, grabbing at air. The little twerp was a mere few feet away before Flip and Javier seized him, dragging him away. The little punk sneered.
    “Yeah, do something, Tomahawk… I dare you.”
    “Miguel, shut the hell up! I’m not going for that shit,” Javier yelled out, struggling to keep Zenith away.
    “Let me go!” Zenith spat out, kicking and punching about. “I’m about to fuck his ass up!” Flip and Javier must have used all of their strength to keep him at bay, away from the guppy in front of him.
    “Get his arm, Flip! Mike, get off your ass and help us, goddamn it!” Mike set his phone down and leisurely walked up, then did absolutely nothing but stand there, watch, and shake his head.
    “Yeah, let him go.” Miguel laughed as he slumped down in a seat. “Give a man a little attention, and he loses his damn mind…shit done went to his head,” he mumbled under his breath.
    “Shut up, Miguel. You’ve said enough! Zenith, I’m letting you go… but don’t do anything!” Flip said, releasing Zenith’s arm. Flip rarely yelled, let alone got into any beef. The calm, cool, collected member of the group had had enough, too. His eyes, semi glazed and reddened like a slice of watermelon, gave him a sinister air. He leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles. “What the hell is going on here? We should be happy for Zenith instead of doing this. We all knew he was just as qualified as the rest of us, if not more so, and honestly, we got some of the venues we got because the promoters liked him, okay?”
    “Oh, bullshit!” Miguel retorted.
    “The people either came for Javier or Zenith, sometimes both. It’s you two right here that kept the flame lit.” He pointed at both men. “We all have known it. The women scream all of our names, but ‘Javier’ and ‘Zenith’ the loudest! We always said if one of us made it, we all would make it. What’s wrong with you all? This is what needed to happen!”
    Everyone was quiet for a while.
    “And I’m tired of this. We’re in our thirties now…” Flip removed his sunglasses from the top of his head and laid them down gently on a nearby table. “This is what we wanted. Yeah, playing gigs is fun, but we always wanted more, to do more. I don’t believe this is bad. This is a good thing.” He looked over at Zenith with a sad smile. “He’s not replaceable… but this is a chance of a lifetime. He won’t forget us; he’s our friend. This is his big break, and he’s cracked the door open.”
    “…And I’m bringing you guys in with me as soon as I get a chance,” Zenith stated