Osh Snow

Astor’s momma told me to work for her if I wanted her. She said that shit when I was 6, honest to God. And I took it to heart. You’ll never see a little boy study as hard as I did, learn as much as I did, and fight as hard as I did. I can wrap a mathematical equation around your face and then follow it with a mean fist. Know that. My dad died early and my mom, well, foul shit happens sometimes. And I got my prize. Astor is the only constant in my life. I did the whole boy genius thing, even in foster care, and I made sure she couldn’t choose anybody else. I keep a clean cut. I keep my family fed, I keep Astor in all that luxurious shit she likes, on and on. But it stings. I know there are things my wife knows that I can’t handle. I get that. You don’t get a Momma like hers and live a happy, carefree life. There are people after my wife that I can’t even look directly at, let alone protect her from. Every now and then she asks my best friend for help