Page 9

Chapter Eight

Lincoln ‘Buck’ Deluca

I pulled up to Linc’s to check the scene for myself.

Could’ve sent somebody, but I ain’t one of them lazy-ass bosses who sits back counting paper while shit crumbles under ’em.

I wanted eyes on the product, the people, and the atmosphere.

If energy was off, I’d feel it before anybody else did.

That’s why all my shit ran effortlessly.

The second I stepped out the truck, all eyes turned.

Workers froze up a little, regulars got low in their seats, and security gave that tight nod like they knew not to fuck up tonight.

That’s the effect I had. Tall, broad, tatted up, locs swinging like I walked outta somebody’s bad dream.

I didn’t move with a crew. I was the crew.

The last stop. The walking final warning.

Marc was already at the side entrance like I told him to be, taking in the crowd like he always did..

“Boss,” he nodded, straightening up like I caught him slipping.

I dapped him. “What’s up?”

He walked me through the usual. Sales were steady and no drama on the floor. Place looked good. Staff alert. Security checking in. Nobody lounging when they should be grinding.

“Got a new applicant today.”

I raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Bartender. Pretty one. Said she worked for you before. Her name was Armani.”

I stopped walking. Just stood there for a beat.

This bitch.

Ain’t heard that name in a minute. Last time I saw her was when I fired her dumb ass for fucking with Goldie.

“You interview her?”

Marc shook his head. “Nah, just took the app. She was talkin’ like she knew the spot was hers already. Said she used to work under old management, wanted back in now that things got real structured.”

“Structured, huh?” I clenched my jaw. That bitch had no business sliding back through like shit was sweet.

“Set up an interview,” I told him. “Not here, though. I’ll give you the location.”

Marc paused, brows knitting a little. “Got it. You want me there or…?”

“Nah. I’ll handle it.”

He didn’t ask any more questions. That’s what I liked about Marc. Solid nigga. He ain’t overstep. He didn’t need to know the past to follow the order.

“Cool. Anything else?” he asked, switching gears.

“New orders. Let me sign off so we don’t fall behind.”

I followed him into the back office, skimmed the list, crossed a few things off that weren’t moving fast enough, and stamped approval on the rest. Everything else looked solid.

Clean shifts and updated schedules,. That’s why Linc’s stayed profitable.

I kept my foot on every neck, whether I was in the building or not.

Before I left, I walked the floor. Let every muthafucka in there feel my presence. Let ’em know the boss ain’t just a name on the payroll.

When I hit the door again, Marc was back at his post.

“I’ll text you that location for Armani,” I said.

“Copy that.”

I was damn near at the truck when my phone buzzed. I smiled when I saw it was Goldie. I hit accept with a smirk. “Wassup, shorty?”

“You on the way home?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you were supposed to be done an hour ago, and your phone been dry like you forgot what communication looks like.”

I pulled the door open and slid in. “I was handling shit, Goldie. Had to double back on inventory, talk to Marc, clean up a lil’ bullshit. Damn, baby. Where the love at?”

She snorted. “At home, where you’re supposed to be.”

I leaned back in the seat, letting her voice settle me. “Benny been on one today?”

“What you think? He’s been on one since breakfast. Talking ’bout he wanna fight a bear. Where he even get that shit from?”

I laughed. “YouTube.”

“He’s three, Lincoln. If he squares up with a squirrel, he’s getting jumped.”

“Bullshit. I’ll shoot the fuck out that squirrel.”

She paused, voice softer. “You good?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just let the silence stretch.

“…Lincoln?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking. It’s been a long fuckin’ day.”

She let out a breath. “Alright. Come home, then. And don’t bring none of that heavy shit inside with you. You know I’ll get it up off you.”

I smirked. “Shit…I’m on the way.”

She hung up, and I sat for a second, eyes on the wheel, letting her words simmer. She didn’t always say a lot, but when she did, it landed. Home wasn’t just a house. It was her mouth, her heat, our wild-ass son, and that sharp tongue that kept me grounded.

I started the truck and pulled off. Time to take my ass home to all of that.

The second I stepped through the door, I heard chaos. Not TV. Not music. Benny.

***

“Daddy!” His little voice rang out like a damn fire alarm.

This wild-ass boy came running down the hallway full speed. Shirt half on, one sock on, and a cape made from one of Nic’s silk scarves tied around his neck.

“Benny, slow the hell—”

Too late. He crashed into my leg like a linebacker and grabbed hold.

“You fight bears today, Daddy?”

I looked down at his lil’ crazy-ass. “I thought you were the one fighting bears and shit?”

“Yeah, but I need backup. They too big.” He stretched his lil’ skinny ass arms wide to show how big the bear was.

“You got it, man.” I scooped him up, kissed the top of his wild curls, and walked toward the kitchen.

Goldie was at the counter in shorts and sports bra, stirring a pot. Her hair was tied up, skin glowing, lips pursed like she was deep in thought.

“Your son think he’s a gah damn Power Ranger,” I announced.

“I know. He’s been jumping off the furniture all damn day.” She didn’t even look surprised.

I put Benny down, and he ran to the fridge to grab a juice pouch like he paid bills here.

“I can’t help he got my energy.”

“Mhm. Don’t forget about that mouth.”

Goldie turned to face me, leaning back on the counter with a knowing look. I walked up behind her, slid my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck.

“You smell like outside,” she said flatly.

“Come clean me up.” I kissed her neck again.

She shrugged me off. “Go wash up. Dinner’s almost done.”

By the time I finished my shower, Goldie and Benny were already seated. Benny barely made it through prayer before digging into his plate like he hadn’t eaten all day. Goldie sat quietly across from me, just watching. I knew that look. She was about to be on some good bullshit.

“You been acting different,” she finally said.

“Here we go,” I muttered, chewing on a piece of grilled chicken.

“I’m serious. You’re moving like you got something to hide. Is it about Kilo?”

I paused, fork halfway to my mouth.

“What makes you say that?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Because when I asked you the other day, you got slick. And every time I bring him up, you get weird.”

“I always get weird when people ask me shit that ain’t got shit to do wit’ me.”

“You better not be lying for your brother, Lincoln.” She pointed her fork at me.

I looked at her dead in her face. “You calling me a liar?”

“I’m saying you better not be lying to me and covering some shit up that’s gone hurt my sister.”

Benny was humming to himself with mashed potatoes on his chin, completely oblivious to the tension.

“I don’t know what’s going on with Kilo,” I said calmly. “If I did, I’d say something. If the nigga don’t wanna talk, that’s on him.”

Goldie leaned forward on her elbows. “That’s your final answer?”

“For now.”

She stared at me a second longer, then pushed her plate forward. “If I find out you’re lying to protect that bald-headed nigga, I’m busting you in yo’ shit.”

“You ain’t gone do shit.” I challenged.

“You’ll see when you be sleeping on the couch.”

“I’ain sleepin’ nowhere but in my bed.”

“With no sex.”

I damn near choked on my food.

“You got me fucked up, Goldie.”

“And you’ll be horny.”

I leaned back and laughed, shaking my head. “You really got me fucked up thinking you gone punish me for some shit I’ain even do.”

Benny looked up. “Daddy, you horny?”

Goldie put her head down to hide her laugh.

“Man, get out grown people business and eat yo’ food. Lil’ nosy ass.”

After dinner, Nic rinsed dishes while I cleaned Benny’s sticky little face and hands. He was wiggling in the chair like he had a thousand volts running through his little ass body.

“Be still ’fore I put you in the dishwasher,” I warned.

He grinned. “Do it, Daddy.”

I couldn’t do shit but shake my head because this damn boy was bad as fuck. He laughed, then leaned forward and whispered, “Can we wrestle now?”

“Hell no. You just ate.”

“I can still fight. Watch,” he boasted.

Goldie turned around and wiped her hands on a towel. “Lincoln, take him and burn that energy off before he body slams himself off the couch again.”

“You heard ya, mama. Let’s go, champ.”

We moved to the living room, and he grabbed a pillow like it was a weapon. I dropped to my knees and gave him a chance.

“Aight, hit me with your best shot.”

He screamed and ran full speed, jumping into my chest. I caught him, rolled us onto the floor, and he shouted, “Daddy Down!”

“Aight, you got it.”

Goldie leaned on the wall, arms folded, watching us with that soft smirk she only gave when she thought we weren’t looking.

“You two done?” she asked.

“No!” Benny shouted. “One more round, please?”

I let him climb up on my back, and we did one more round of chaos before I finally pinned him down, tickling him until he screamed. By the time it was all said and done, he was limp on the couch, breathing heavy.

Goldie came over and stood him upright. “Come on, Benny Boo. Time for bed.”

He groaned but followed her, eyes half shut trailing behind. I followed, letting her run his bath water while I picked out his pajamas. Ten minutes later, we were done, and he was in the bed. After turning his nightlight on and tucked him in, he rubbed his eyes and reached for me.

“Daddy…”

“Wassup, man?”

“You gone fight the monsters while I sleep?”

I pulled the blanket tighter. “Gone fuck ’em up.”

He nodded, satisfied, before rolling over onto his side.

Goldie kissed his forehead. “Love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”