“Listen, I wanna apologize.”
“Fuck you, Ahkeem! You damn near choked me out in front of our son!”
“That shit wasn’t right, Brooke. I talked to Blue about it and held myself accountable. I don’t want him thinking it’s cool for me to put my hands on his mother. You gave him life, so I need to have that respect for you.” Truth was, I was tired of fighting with her. I just wanted my son to be happy.
“I just want my son. I could have lost him at that fucking funeral, and you didn’t tell me shit about it. That’s fucked up, Ahk.”
I sighed deeply. “I know, and I heard an earful from my wife about it. I’ll keep you more informed about shit like that. But I want you to know I ain’t gone let shit happen to my son, Brooke.I love that little boy with everything in me. I just need us to be cool.”
“As long as my son is good, we won’t have no problems.”
“Heard’ju. But I got my security looking out for you and Blue from now on.”
She let out a heavy groan. “I’m not with that secret service shit.”
“Too bad, Brooke. Shit is getting hot out here. I can’t have you defenseless with my kid.”
She muttered some slick shit under her breath before smacking her lips. “I think we should adjust the terms of our custody agreement. Temporarily, at least. You have a lot going on.”
Here she went with her bullshit. I knew this phone call was going too well to be true. It was always something with Brooke. It was like she always wanted to let her nuts hang on a nigga. Because she couldn’t have the family she envisioned in her mind, she had to always have some sense of control of the situation. Whether it was the money she was damn near extorting me out of, or her constant threats to file for sole custody, she always had to stress a nigga the fuck out.
“It aint never too much going on for me to be a father to my son. We good how we are. If you take it upon yourself to get the courts involved again, that’s on you, but that retainer money gone dry up quicker than your fucking pussy.”
“Fuck you, Ahkeem!” was the last thing I heard her say before I banged my line on her.
Peacemaking with Brooke would always be like pulling fucking teeth.
I dimmed my headlights as I set my car in Park at the curb. After grabbing the box from my passenger seat, I hopped out, and myJordans hit the ground. The block was quiet, not much activity. It was a nice neighborhood, not overly gaudy, but the houses looked like they were worth some paper. It was a cookie cutter neighborhood that had been gentrified. Each of the two-story houses had the same paint wash and the same three front steps at the porch. I found the one marked with the numbers 247.
With my hood over my head, I dipped through the shadows with the box tucked under my arm. I walked up the three steps, set the box down on the welcome mat, then rang the doorbell.
I trudged back to my car, got back in, and watched from the window. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open. Silas’ mother popped her head out, looking around to see if she could catch who rang her doorbell. Ms. Nancy birthed a bitch-ass nigga, and now she was suffering the consequences for that shit. She looked down, finally noticing the box on the welcome mat.
I did a shitty job of sealing the box, and I didn’t bother to tape it. As she picked it up, the flaps opened. Horror flashed in her eyes as she dropped it and let it hit the ground with a thud. A piercing scream screeched out of her before her hand flew over her mouth.
A smirk pulled onto my face as Knox’s head rolled out onto the porch. Jersey did a clean cut and was even kind enough to keep it on ice before I came and picked it up. Knox let me know Silas’ next move was on Brooke, so now Ms. Nancy’s comfortable little life needed to be disrupted.
From Knox’s phone, I hit Silas’ number. It rang for a little bit before he answered. “What you got for me, Knox?”
My sinister chuckle greeted his ears before my words. “Special fucking delivery, bitch-ass nigga. I’m getting really tired of playing this cat and mouse game wit’chu. Stop ducking smoke and get at me. I can start with stiff-ass Ant, or I can touch Ms. Nancy’s funny-looking ass with her crooked-ass wig. Choice is fucking yours, bitch. When I get my fucking hands on you, justknow I’m gone show yo bitch ass why the fuck they crowned me king.”
“You touch my people, and your son gone have to bury his mother,” Silas gritted.
This time, the laugh that fled out of me was damn near uncontrollable. This nigga was comical at this point. “247 West Juniper Ave… right?” Once I recited his mother’s address, I could hear his phone beeping, indicating that he had an incoming call on the other line. “Ms. Nancy calling. Tell her that package was delivered with love, motherfucka.”
I banged the line on him as I pulled off from Ms. Nancy’s block.
I walked in on Jazzlyn wiping down the kitchen counters with her phone on speaker while Saphir was watching a movie. I dropped a kiss on top of Saphir’s head before making my way to the kitchen.
“Britain, you can’t come to the white party, sis. You’re about to pop.”
“Exactly! Think of it as my last lit night out before I have your niece. Your brother has been so strict lately.”
I came up behind her and peppered kisses along her jawline. “Tell her what you did, Gioia,” Priest piped into the conversation.
“Oh Lord, sis. What did you do?”
Britain smacked her lips, and knowing her, I knew she gave Priest a nasty eye roll for outing her. “I fell while trying to hang up some pictures.”
