Page 31 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
Only her and Marcella did that, and it pissed me off!
I didn’t hate Jordan. She had a few good qualities.
I believe she did love my brother on some level.
In my eyes, she just didn’t fit with Ivo.
With the kind of mother we all grew up with, a bitch had to have tough skin and be assertive.
She couldn’t cry when we yelled or raised our voice or said some unhinged shit that scared her.
Jordan didn’t seem to feed the other parts of my brother I also knew were there.
The nigga was an artist at heart, but over the years, that took a back seat, and he focused on business instead.
I’d seen his work though, and the nigga had real talent.
He used to talk about creating his own black comics and becoming a graphic designer.
I thought it was dope because he was creative as fuck.
Jordan didn’t nurture that part of him. I wasn’t even sure she knew it existed.
“Whoever this girl is, the viewers are tuned in.”
“Fuck that.” I followed her outside just as my phone went off in my pocket.
Jordan locked up, and I swiped to answer for Armon while strolling to the top of the porch steps. The wind whipped around us, causing the shadows of the trees moving to cloak the estate. From Ivo’s porch I could see the light from the main house, and I took in a deep breath of fresh air.
“What’s up?” I spotted Staten and Ivo on a golf cart a couple of steps ahead on the dirt road.
Justus purchased a fleet of these things when we got this property decades ago. I don’t remember riding on one since I was a little kid and Staten was steering. Tonight brought me back. Watching him grip the wheel and puff on the last of the blunt, I peeped Ivo in back twisting up a new spliff.
“We need to strategize tomorrow. Can you get a face-to-face with this chick from Rossi’s lodge?” Armon cut into my thoughts.
“Nigga, what? I ain’t doing that?”
“Brick, I’m telling you… this shit is gold.
I got muhfuckas messaging me back-to-back.
Look, have her slide in and act like one of the other girls.
We need a one-on-one with you and her for the public, and we need you to eat that shit up.
I’m telling you. We doing dummy numbers right now.
I got an interview slotted for y’all on Twitch when this shit really blow up.
Let her know this ain’t just for you either.
She damn sure got some benefits. Sell that shit! ”
“Bye, Mon.” Annoyed, I hung up in his face.
Just like I expected, his punk ass sent me a text.
Mon: Get on that!
I planned on ignoring his ass for the rest of the night.
I didn’t even want to entertain this girl let alone put her on.
Her attitude was fucked up. She was acting like I was the muhfucka that rearranged her fucking face, and for some reason, I was taking her hostility personal.
I was usually an easy-going nigga and got along with damn near everybody.
It was always some fuck nigga trying to test me that got that bully shit.
Pocketing my cell phone, I jumped into the empty seat beside Staten and snatched what was left of the blunt from his lips.
“Y’all and these damn carts,” Jordan huffed, jumping on beside Ivo, who broke down weed on an old ass golf magazine.
Jordan immediately grabbed the bar above her to hold on, all prissy in her bodycon dress with the ruffled bottom and three-inch heels. She huffed and puffed, settling in her seat with her bag on her lap, scrolling through her phone.
“I’m pulling up at my shit. Somebody gotta take over the wheel on this one and grab one with two of the kids,” Staten interjected.
“Ah, hell nah,” I griped, trying to enjoy my buzz.
“Cambrie’s coming too.”
“With her fine ass,” I groaned, remembering her thick ass frame and shaking my head.
“Who is Cambrie?” Jordan asked, leaning forward as bro hit the gas and cruised along the dirt road to his house.
“The nanny I hired for my kids,” Staten replied.
Staten’s house was about a half a mile ahead, and by the time we rolled up, I heard them kids long before I saw them.
I don’t know how bro still had his sanity.
The front door burst open, and my nephew, Rogue, raced out in charcoal-gray jeans, a white t- shirt with a gray button-up jacket, and white Retro 7s.
I think this was the first time I’d seen him and his hair wasn’t all over his damn head.
Neat cornrows had him fresh as hell. He’d been looking like a little Tarzan the whole time.
Tavi and Saga, my oldest niece and nephew, trotted down the hill next, both wearing them pre-teen frowns that made you want to slap ’em.
His locs were styled though, and she had two fresh ass feed-ins going down her back.
“Piaget, let’s go, Miss! Just bring the Bluetooth speaker at this point!” Cambrie called from the front door.
I could see her cakes from where I sat a few yards away.
She was keeping it modest in a soft pink, satin, floral, spaghetti-strapped, mermaid-style midi dress, but them curves were ridiculous.
Gold heels accented her feet, and she tugged on my youngest niece’s wrist, pulling her through the front door before locking it.
It wasn’t an aggressive tug, more like ‘don’t make me fuck you up’ in a mama kind of way.
I jumped out so Cambrie could hop in the passenger seat beside Staten while Rogue twitched behind his pops and Piaget climbed in next to him, bumping Tevin Campbell’s “Can We Talk,” no fucking lie.
“How the fuck she know that song?”
“You do not want to go there,” Cambrie insisted, cutting her eyes at me sharply. “We don’t even have time for the rabbit hole of the ’90s she fell down.” Waving me off, she jumped into the seat next to Staten.
Tavi and Saga joined Ivo and Jordan on their cart, so I hung off the side with Staten and the crew when he pulled off. They had me fucked up if they thought the young prince was walking.
“You didn’t have to get them dressed up,” I heard bro say to Cambrie.
“Excuse me? I met your mother. Once. She can sear you with one look. I ain’t taking no chances. These kids ’bout to be casket sharp around here.”
I found myself chortling, and even Staten let go of a little snicker.
Rogue’s ass didn’t want to sit down for shit, and I could tell it was making Cambrie antsy.
It didn’t help that Staten was whipping us around like we wouldn’t all fall out of this shit if he hit the wrong bump.
At one point, I reached for my nephew and held him in place since he refused to sit down.
By the time we arrived in Rossi’s driveway minutes later, I had worked up a fucking appetite.
Before Staten could even park, I hopped the hell off.
“My feet hurt,” Piaget complained.
“I told you beauty is pain.” Cambrie stepped forward and knelt. “You the one wanted to wear heels because Tavi was. Now take those socks off.”
Piaget did as she was told but was still pouting. She took off her socks and Cambrie stuffed them in her purse.
“Put your shoes back on.”
“Here. Hop on my back.” I squatted so that she could jump on me once her shoes were secure on her feet.
The door was about five steps ahead. My niece was relieved though, hanging on for dear life.
While we were approaching the door, my phone was going crazy.
Shaking my head, I knew I was going to have to shut this thang down during dinner.
Rossi was gon’ have my head if I responded to any of this shit at her dinner table.
When the door opened, Marcella peered out at us all together, speechless.
“Somebody take a picture. This the first time I ever seen her without words,” I whispered.
“I’m on it.” Ivo had his iPhone up and ready, snapping a shot of her with her mouth wide open.
“Get y’all stupid asses in here. Dinner is ready, and you know your mama is at the table ready to cuss every last one of you out.”
“But… it’s 5:58 p.m.” I held up my wrist to show her my watch.
“Breccan, I really don’t have time for you and all this tonight.” She motioned to me impatiently.
“Whatever. I’m hungry.” I lowered myself to the ground so that Piaget could plant her feet on the ground.
“Me too. Where the food?” Rogue said, ready to rush past me.
“Lord, somehow Staten sired another version of you.” Marcella wagged her finger at me.
“Cella, you love me. I don’t know why you always capping when everybody else around though.” I leaned in to kiss her cheek before trailing Rogue inside.
The two of us arrived in the kitchen together.
Rogue rushed to my mama near the island in her kitchen and stopped at her side.
A rare smile fell over her lips, and I realized it was different because of Rogue.
I was her son, but that grandma love was something else.
When Pops died, I could tell she was really struggling, but the minute Staten showed up with the kids, it seemed to rejuvenate her. It was nice to see.
“You look so handsome, Rogue. Those braids are nice.” She ran her hand over the top of his head.
“Cambrie did it for me today. She said I couldn’t come up in here looking like a heathen.”
“Well, she’s right about that,” Ma snickered. “You were looking a little rough.”
“Ma, I need a snack,” I said, rubbing my stomach.
“Brick, you better not touch that refrigerator. The table is set, take Rogue and go to the dining room. Where is everybody else?”
“Piling in as we speak. Come on, neph. Might be some rolls on the table.” I scooped Rogue up and carried him past the kitchen into the large dining room.