Page 78 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio

“Don’t answer her, Doom. That’s my little sister.” I left off the part where Blayke was actually my little sister’s best friend because I didn’t feel like explaining all of that to him.

“I’m nineteen goin’ on ninety, baby. At least dat’s what my grannie say.”

He handed me back the phone, where the low battery alert flashed across the screen. Instead of charging my phone with the portable charger, I ended the live. When Tunan saw me stuffing my phone and equipment back in my purse, he spoke up. “You done?”

“Yeah. I was on the live long enough.”

“Dat hoe was jumpin’, but I’m glad you ended it. Now, lemme tell you what happened after I heard da bih makin’ plans with her nigga.”

“Doom, you talmbout her nigga? Last I checked… that girl was married.”

“Married, but ona young nigga dick bad. Mane, fuck dat fake-ass marriage. Da nigga can have that slaw ass hoe. So, listen… I told her I was straight and went out wit’ my niggas. She waspissed, but she thought a nigga had let her ass off da hook. WRONG!” He motioned his hand as if he was pulling a ski mask down his face. “We kicked the fuckin’ doe in and made the whole house come clean. You know she got two babies, the youngest was ona bottle, and I snatched that shit up too! Fuck you talmbout. Gimme all dat shit! Her square-ass husband had all types of Rolexes and compurrters and shit.”

Memphis people tended to add an “R” to the most random words. His pronunciation of computers was hilarious, and I didn’t even try to hide my giggles.

“Damn, you still got da watches? I’m bare as fuck out here.” Tunan held up his wrist.

“Mane, hell nawl! Me and my niggas busted that shit down. It was one for every one of us.” Doom showed his wrist, and sure enough, a gold Rolex sat there.

“Yeah, y’all did good, my boy,” Tunan praised the watch as he inspected it.

“I do got sum’n you can get doe.” Doom reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a stack of money. A few twenties fell to the ground, but he didn’t stop digging. He pulled out a blue velvet box, picked up his money, and handed the box to Tunan. “I was on my way to da HH to see what I could get for dis. But if you want it, you can give me ten bands for it. P’s shiesty ass ’bout ain’t gone give me nun but selm (seven), and I know for a fact dat boy a fifty ball. I can’t take it to the pawn shop ‘cuz I know dey white ass got insurance on it.”

Flipping the box open, a built-in light shone on the ring, and Tunan looked in the box before turning to Doom, who was still going on.

“Dat bih so icy, Tune. I got da paperwork back at da crib, but it’s a three carat H with VVS1. Dat’s basically excellent grade.”

Holding the ring out for me to see, Tunan asked, “You like it?”

A circular diamond sat in the middle of a thin silver band. The ring was simple but beautiful. I’d always thought I’d want a cluster ring, but the solitaire setting was perfect and dainty. The rock radiated under the porch lights, and I was dazzled by the size. Chuckling, I looked at Doom. This boy had really robbed his sneaky link and her husband.

Did I like the three-carat diamond ring? I loved it, but this was a stolen damn ring! I looked from the ring back to Tunan, then back to the ring before shifting my eyes back to Tunan.

He snapped the box closed, shoved the box in my hand, and reached into his pocket. “Damn, Doom! You taxin’ the fuck outta a nigga.”

“Nigga, you gettin’ a steal. Plus, her and Snow ’bout da same size and shit. I know she can fit it.”

“Try it on, my baby,” Tunan encouraged as he counted out the money to pay Doom.

“Wait, her name is Snow?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Doom smiled. “Nah, dat’s just what I call her.”

Tunan handed him the money while I sat idle, staring at the ring.

“Yeah, dat bih got by, but she won’t get away. Aye, I’m ’bout to hit up the dice at the sto’. I’ll be back through here to give Ma a gift and get a plate.”

They slapped hands again.

“Bye, Miss Lady. Enjoy dat ring.”

Doom was gone like he’d never come, with only the ring as a reminder that he’d been here.

“You like it?” Tunan asked again, hovering over me as I opened the ring box.

“I mean… I like it, but what I’ma do with a ring, Tunan?”

“Shid! Whatchu mean? We getting married and shit, ain’t it?”