Page 7

ADIR

After Pretty went inside, I took a deep breath and exhaled it into the muggy night air.

Summer hadn’t started, and already, the weather wasn’t kind.

Still, there was something in the air.

It was thick, heady, and tugging at me in places buried under a lifetime of being in the trenches.

Aside from my family and my boys, there wasn’t another soul who stirred that place inside of me.

Glancing back at the mansion I’d built several years ago, my eyes fell on the dimly lit room that belonged to Pretty.

I’d told her to rest, knowing I wouldn’t be getting any rest for the next couple of days.

At least not until everything was in stone.

Once everything was in stone, Pretty and Quilo were as good as kept.

I took another deep breath and left that to the wind, too.

Backtracking, I went inside the house, stopped inside the kitchen for a quick drink, then headed up the stairs to make sure Pretty was settling in without any problems. As I approached her door, Quilo’s booming voice slowed my step.

Stepping to the door, I listened.

“You not marrying that nigga, Coco! And fuck him tryna adopt me. I don’t need that nigga protecting me.”

“We don’t have a choice, Quilo. Where are we gon’ go? We’ll always be looking over our shoulders. You heard what they said. If Adir is offering us protection, we need to take it. You could be in jail right now.”

“Fuck that! You’on even know that nigga.”

“Do you understand how much trouble you’re in?”

“I don’t fuckin’ care, Coco! Them niggas wasn’t about to fuck wit’ you! I stand by what the fuck I did.”

“Quilo… I love you, okay. You’re all I have out here.”

Pretty choking up had me ready to barge into her room and snatch that lil’ nigga up.

She sounded exasperated and at her wits end.

“Please, for me… I will do anything for you. I need you to trust me.”

For a second, the room fell silent.

“We need another way, Coco.”

“There is no other way.”

The finality in Pretty’s tone touched a place in me that was only reserved for the people I loved.

That shit had me clutching my chest. Moving from the room door, I went down the hall to Humble’s room.

He was sitting on his bed, with his books open.

Although it was summer, he was knee-deep in classes.

He was eager to finish his degree so that he could graduate early and enlist in the army.

It was his decision, one that I didn’t dissuade him from.

“You good?”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m good. So, what’re you gon’ do?”

Just like Humble.

Straight to the point.

Leaning against the door jamb, I sighed deeply to which he laughed.

“I’m not even mad, Pops. Actually, I’m happy for you.”

I tilted my head at him.

“Let’s be for real. You put ya whole life on hold for us. Don’t think we don’t sit around hoping you wake up and realize we’re getting older and so are you. The streets love you for what you can do for it. What about a woman loving you for you and not what you can give her?”

Humble got his name because he was just that.

Even as a young teen, his words had always been measured, and he spoke like a man standing behind a pulpit.

His mind was sharp as fuck, too.

“This isn’t about love. I’m offering them protection.”

With a snicker, he waved me off.

“If I can see through it, she will eventually see through it. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to offer your protection to other women. She’s different and so is that hardheaded ass brother of hers.”

I chuckled then.

“Are you saying I should back out?”

“Nah, Pops. What I’m sayin’ is I’ll do everything in my power to see to it that Quilo thrives here just like we’ve thrived. You worry about Pretty. ”

I had no doubt that Humble could keep Quilo in line.

My oldest son was a machine of sorts.

Although love was in his heart for me and his brothers, that muthafucka was cold as hell when it came to anybody else.

I left Humble’s room, then went next door to check on Peace.

Like Humble, he was taking summer classes.

The two of them pushed each other and kept each other on the straight and narrow.

“How you feeling?” I asked him.

He was stretched out across his bed, watching television.

“I’m cool, Pops.” After Humble, he was the next oldest. Peace was most likely to handle a situation without his hands.

That wasn’t because he couldn’t handle himself.

He just preferred to stay as peaceful as he could.

“You mind having company in here?”

He shook his head.

“Not at all. I got you.”

I left Peace’s room and made my last stop at Kalm’s room, where I knew I’d find his twin Bragg, too.

Their room was connected by a door that usually stayed open.

Most times, they crashed in each other’s rooms. Before being reunited to an adoptive mother, they were separated and living in separate foster care homes.

I refused to force them out of the separation anxiety they developed because of it; their closeness was paramount to me.

Bragg saw me first and grinned.

“Soon as I saw her, I knew they were staying.” He and Kalm burst out laughing.

They were at that stage in life where girls were the only thing on their minds.

“I think you just called me shallow,” I joked.

“Nah, never that, Pops,” Kalm stated.

“We just saw how you looked at her is all.”

Again, I found myself tilting my head.

“Don’t worry. She looked at you the same way,” Bragg added.

As if that was explanation enough, they dismissed me and went back to the game.

It was late. However, since it was summer, I didn’t mind them staying up as long as they wanted to.

They kept their rooms clean and handled chores when necessary.

My boys were well-mannered and well-behaved.

For that, I gave them plenty of room to just be them.

Quilo emerged from Pretty’s room with a scowl covering his face.

Leaving the twins’ doorway, I sauntered down the hall and blocked Quilo’s path.

I gave him the same expression that he gave me.

He wasn’t much shorter than me and reminded me a lot of myself when I was his age.

However, he couldn’t beat my ass if my hands were tied behind my back.

“Everything cool?” I asked.

“You know it’s not,” he spat back.

“I’on like this shit.”

I grit my back teeth.

Surely, Humble and Peace cussed every now and then.

That, I didn’t mind.

However, Quilo’s mouth was reckless.

“Allat negative energy you got is fuckin’ up the vibe of the house.”

“So, let me leave,” he shot back.

“And let the streets kill you?”

He poked his chest out and squared his shoulders.

“If that’s how you feel, you can’t give a fuck about ya sister, which I know isn’t the case.”

“I love my fuckin’ sister. Which is why I don’t want her fuckin’ wit’ a nigga like you.” He pointed out the expensive paintings lining the hallway and the equally expensive chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

“You hide behind that fuckin’ doctor title but clearly, you more than that.”

Humble’s door opened.

I held my hand up to keep him from coming into the hall.

Disrespecting me was surely to have Humble putting his hands on Quilo, and we couldn’t have that.

“The fuck you gon’ do?” Quilo blasted.

Peace’s door opened next, followed by Pretty’s door.

The concern on her face fucked with me.

“Humble. Peace. I got this. Pretty, rest like I asked you to, lil’ baby. He’s good.” Although I was a stranger, she had to learn to trust me if this shit was going to be anything outside of unorthodox.

Once the doors were closed, I advanced on Quilo until his back hit the wall behind him.

Defiance seeped from his pores.

Lowly, I said, “I’m big dog ‘round this muthafucka. I can understand that you don’t like that, but you gon’ respect me in this bitch. Most importantly, you gon’ do what the fuck I say. If not for ya ungrateful ass, you gon’ do it for ya sister who’s sacrificing her own fuckin’ life to save you, lil’ nigga.”

He glanced off, avoiding eye contact.

“I fuck with the fact that you think you love ya sister. However, you gon’ watch how you talk to her, too. Lower yo’ fuckin’ tone and talk to her like the responsible fuckin’ adult that she is. Does she have to marry me? No, the fuck she doesn’t. Is she doing it to save yo’ life? Yes, the fuck she is. As a fuckin’ man, you should honor the fact that she’s willing to lay aside whatever life she had to see to it that you can live yours. Do you understand me?”

He responded with, “Whateva, bruh.”

I’d take that.

For now. If I didn’t get him out of my face, I’d yoke his ass up.

“For now, you’ll share Peace’s room. We’ll get ya room together tomorrow.”

He curtly nodded.

I knocked on Peace’s door, then waited for Quilo to enter.

I glanced at Peace, who ducked his head in acknowledgement before closing the door.

Sighing, my shoulders finally relaxed until a door cracked open.

“Dr. Bell… Adir, I mean.”

My shoulders tensed again.

This time for another reason.

“Yes, Pretty.”

She tiptoed my way.

Only then did I realize that she was freshly showered, and wearing one of the lounge sets from the walk-in closet.

Her hair was slightly damp at the tips and brushed her forehead.

I gulped hard as fuck when her scent made it to my nose.

“As beautiful and luxurious as it is, I’m not sure if I can sleep in that big ass room alone,” she whispered.

Her cheeks darkened as her slightly puffy eyes lowered to the floor.

She’d been crying again.

“I promise you’re safe here.”

“I know… I just…” Her words trailed off as she twiddled her thumbs.

“Grab what you need and come with me.”

She pivoted on her pretty feet and hurried back to the room.

Seconds later, she came back out with a single pillow.

Leading her down the stairs, we walked through the living room and kitchen and down the hall leading to my bedroom.

Her eyes widened when she walked inside my bedroom.

“This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

I smirked.

My bedroom was something I took pride in.

After a long day or night of working, all I wanted to do was come in here and crash.

My bed was large enough for me and whatever woman shared it with me, which was few and far between.

I didn’t want my boys seeing me bringing in women left and right, so I went out of my way to make sure no woman came here.

The last woman to step foot in this house was still begging to get back in.

“What’s up those stairs?”

The lighted staircase led to an upper deck.

“My closet and bathroom.”

She gaped, then let her eyes roam over the rest of the room.

Besides my bed, there was a full seating area against the floor-to-ceiling wall window encompassing the wall to our left.

Outside, the night was in full swing.

The stars were so bright, it was as if I could reach out and pluck one down for her.

It pleased me that she didn’t look nervous standing in here.

“The bed has clean linens on it. Make ya’self comfortable.”

She shook her head.

“That’s asking too much. Just give me a blanket. I’ll crash on the couch or the floor.”

“Never inside these four walls will you sleep on anything other than a bed, baby. I’ll take the couch. You get in the bed.”

“Okay,” she lowly replied.

Once she was tucked in under the covers, I turned the television on something she wanted to watch.

Retreating upstairs to my bathroom, I stood in the mirror wondering who the hell this man was staring back at me.

When my day started, I never thought it would end with me falling in love.

The proof laid in my bed.

When I emerged from upstairs, showered, moisturized, and fully dressed, Pretty glanced at me with her big brown eyes questioning me without her saying a word.

“I’m about to go meet with my family.” Inwardly, I chuckled at me telling her my moves.

I was already soft on her.

“Oh,” she simply replied.

“Is it okay if I make a call? I wasn’t sure, so I… I turned both phones off. But my friends will worry if they don’t hear from me.”

Understanding, I handed her my cell.

I rattled off the code and said, “We’ll make sure you and Quilo have new phones tomorrow.”

She took my phone and inspected the picture on the screen.

The picture was of me and my sons.

Questions swarmed in her eyes.

“I’ll answer all the questions you have, shawty. However, tonight, I need you to rest. Tomorrow’s gon’ be busy as hell.”

Conceding, she nodded and focused on the phone.

A few short minutes later inside my home conference room, the gazes of my father, my mama, uncles, a few of my cousins, and my closest security team sat quietly, waiting for me to say something.

The fire I’d tried to abet inside the shower had yet to die down.

Seeing those guns pointed at Pretty had me restless and my hands ready to do damage.

I hadn’t felt this homicidal in a very long time.

“As head of this family, I need to make a few things very clear.”

My cousins’ ears perked up.

The tone in my voice had them on edge.

They hated dealing with this side of Adir.

This side of me saw nothing but bloodshed—straight red.

“I’ll be getting married in the next few days.”

“Married?”

“The fuck, Cuzzo?” Noa and Duval, my eldest cousins, spoke at the same time.

“Hush and listen,” my father grumbled as he pulled from the cigar dangling between his tattooed fingers.

My mother sat in his lap, curiously smiling as I debriefed them on the situation.

“I need each of you to put the word out. Pretty and Quilo are off limits.”

“Giving a woman our name for protection purposes is dangerous, Nephew. You have no idea who she is or what stock she comes from.”

That was my uncle, Duval Sr. He was next to oldest after my father.

“Questioning my son is absurd,” my father said.

I held my hand up to put a halt to the argument his words were about to spark.

“Her stock is not to ever be questioned. I better not ever hear anyone bring that shit up again. Understood?” I respected my uncles.

However, I was the boss of this shit.

They followed my orders and not the other way around.

“What do you wanna do about Hakeem’s crew?” Duval asked.

“You really think that nigga gon’ let this shit go?”

“I’m giving him the chance to,” I replied.

Duval scoffed.

“You got an issue?” I asked.

“Of course, not. It’s just, when have you ever offered muhfuckas a chance?”

Duval’s question caused a stir.

However, I didn’t take issue with his question.

“There’s already a war in the streets. Our family has been quietly maintaining our line. We’ll continue to do so unless that line is crossed.”

He didn’t like my answer, and it showed.

“I hate to say this, but a non-reaction can be considered weak as fuck, Cuzzo. You really want to have that nigga thinkin’ you want peace with him and his people?”

Peace.

That was fairytale shit in the life we lived.

Peace was more like the eye of a hurricane.

At some point, it passed and brought hell behind it.

“Long as he keeps his fuckin’ hands off what’s mine, all will be well.”

“Fair enough,” Duval finally said.

“Pops, get with Hicks first thing in the morning. We need papers drawn up, ASAP. I need papers drawn up for Quilo as well. Their mother is deceased. Be sure their father is non-existent.”

“Consider it done.” The admiration in my father’s voice superseded any doubt in my cousin’s voice.

Although he was third-in-command, Duval had a lot of ironing out to do.

I loved him, but my cousin was hotheaded and lacked emotional control.

He’d grown in recent years, however, that shit still irked me sometimes.

Just before midnight, I called the meeting to a close.

Once everyone left, I armed my house, checked on the boys one last time, then retreated to my room where Pretty was fast asleep in my bed.

Or so I thought. Her brown eyes stapled to me the minute I stepped into the room.

Chuckling, I said, “Go to sleep, Pretty.”

Sighing, she replied, “I’ll try.”

By the time I got myself together and laid across the couch, she was out like a light.

She just needed me close .

The thought brought a small smile to my face.

Unfolding my large body from the couch, I sat up and stared at the woman lying in my bed.

Pretty was fast asleep now, lightly snoring and shit like she hadn’t experienced a near death situation last night.

The antique clock mounted to the wall directly in front of me read a little after three in the morning.

Bowing my head, I said a prayer.

Three o’clock seemed to be the time my spirit was commissioning me to do so.

Few and far between did I sleep a whole night through without rolling over and taking note of the time.

Usually, after I prayed, I’d fall back asleep.

Tonight, I was too amped.

Standing from the couch, I stretched, then silently eased out of my bedroom.

As I walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, I heard the water running.

Coming around the corner, I wasn’t surprised to see Quilo at the sink.

He rinsed out a cup he’d used, dried it off, then placed it back in the cupboard where he’d found it.

He glanced at me entering the kitchen and immediately his shoulders tensed.

“Need to talk?” I asked him.

“No,” was his quick and snappy reply.

“Well, too bad. Have a seat.”

His shoulders tensed even more, and he looked like he wanted to take a bat to my head.

Ignoring the defiance in his eyes, I went to the refrigerator and retrieved a pitcher of lemonade my mama had prepared.

After pouring myself a glass, I put the pitcher back in the refrigerator, then took a seat on one of the high back barstools situated around the kitchen island.

Realizing I wasn’t taking no for an answer, Quilo plopped himself into a seat.

I took a sip of the lemonade and waited for him to say something.

Irritated, he sighed heavily.

“You want me to sit here and watch you drink?”

“Nah… I want you to tell me what’s on ya mind.”

He clicked his teeth and glanced off at nothing in particular.

His head was hard as hell, and his defiance was almost sickening.

Yet, the heaviness in his young eyes caused me to have compassion for him.

“Tell me something about ya’self, Quilo.”

“Ain’t it a lil’ too late for that?” he snapped.

My fingers gripped the glass of lemonade a little tighter to keep from reaching across the counter and busting him in his lip.

“It’s not,” I mumbled.

“Look, I’on know you, aight. And I’on feel comfortable talkin’ to you about shit.”

“Aight,” I conceded.

“Since you don’t wanna talk, you gon’ listen.”

With an attitude, he stood from the chair, and uttered, “Fuck this shit, bruh.”

“Sit yo’ ass down!” I lowly but sternly barked.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bruh!” His voice escalated.

“I talk to you any fuckin’ way I want to. You gon’ sit yo’ ass down and listen to what the fuck I gotta say to yo’ ass.”

He mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t catch.

However, his feet didn’t move from the spot he stood in.

“Sit. Down. If I repeat myself again, we gon’ have problems.”

Reluctantly, he propped himself against the edge of the chair.

“Do you pray?” I asked him.

“What?” His face reflected the confusion he felt.

“If you can what you heard me just fine.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Answer the question.”

He shook his head, and I could tell he was trying to recall the last time he’d prayed.

“You want me to pray wit’ you?”

Although he shook his head, the way he looked at the floor as he did so told me what I needed to know.

“You sure?” I questioned just to give him another opportunity.

This time his response wasn’t so quick.

I took another sip of lemonade, then placed the glass on the countertop.

While Quilo did anything but make eye contact with me, I prayed a simple prayer.

It was one that I prayed over my sons every single day.

From day one, I knew I couldn’t raise them on my own.

So, I kept them covered as best as I knew how.

Once I was finished, I said to Quilo, “Taking a life isn’t easy. However, I stand by everything I did tonight. And I stand by you, aight?”

A few seconds passed before he nodded.

“Now, go back to bed. Close ya eyes and go to sleep. You did the right thing.”

His nod was a little more confident as he stood to leave the kitchen.

I wasn’t expecting a thank you from him.

I didn’t need one. Over time he would learn that he could come to me.

Establishing an open door was paramount with Quilo.

He had a chip on his shoulder, and a body under his belt didn’t help it.