“You what?! Britain, are you out of your damn mind?!”
“Exactly what the fuck I said. Mind you, I told her hardheaded ass I would get around to putting the pictures up.” Priest sighed deeply.
I shook my head. This was the usual. Priest and Jazzlyn were always on her case because she was always getting into something. “You’re tripping, sis. You need to sit your ass down somewhere,” I told her.
“Not you jumping in on their side, Ahk! It was just a little tumble. I landed on my ass.”
“A hard head makes a soft ass. Be on bullshit again, and I’m gone show you,” Priest threatened.
Jazzlyn laughed at their back and forth. “Seriously, Brit, sit your ass down. We need a spa day.”
“Yes!” Britain cheered.
“No!” Priest and I shut their idea down.
Jazzlyn screwed her face up at me. “Y’all link up and blow racks for no fucking reason. Be coming home with the dumbest shit,” Priest scoffed, and I agreed with him.
My wife smacked her lips. “Fuck what they’re talking about, Brit. Spa day this weekend.”
We accepted our defeat, and the ladies wrapped up their phone call. Jazzlyn turned around to face me. “Liked your surprise today?”
The little smirk on her face earned her a kiss on her nose then her lips. “Loved that shit, Lovey. You handled it exactly how you was supposed to.”
“He’s been putting his hands on Icey for a minute now.”
“Yeah, he did that shit to stroke his ego ‘cause he a bitch. She don’t got shit to worry about no more.”
She pushed up on her tippy toes and kissed me. “Thank you, Pa.”
“Nothing is too much for you.”
She reached behind her on the counter and grabbed an envelope. “Got served today at the club.”
“By fucking who? It better not be Brooke’s ass.” I took the envelope from her and opened it.
“It’s not Brooke.”
I was a little relieved to hear that. I didn’t really like being the bad guy when it came to my son’s mother. I just didn’t like being played with.
I read the cover page of the lawsuit, and my mouth hung a little. “Damn. So, your people really did have another kid?”
That was a shock. I witnessed the way Jazzy and Priest handled Sylvia’s and Terrance’s deaths. They acted one way in front of the public, then were completely fine in private. Neither of them gave a fuck about their parents because of the foul shit they endured during their childhood. Them having another kid and not telling anyone about it further proved how fucking twisted they were.
I remembered trying to make my wife grieve properly when news first struck about her parents being dead. Once she let me in on some of the shit they put her through, I quickly realized they weren’t shit and did my baby a favor by spitting on their graves. We were under the impression that this shit was behind us, but here it went resurfacing again. Even from the grave, her people were messy as fuck.
“Yeah. Shit is crazy. Me and PJ made sense of it all. After we got evicted from the projects Nymir’s grandmother stays in, my mom sent me to her sister’s house and left PJ to pretty much fend for himself. He ended up staying with J’Ru and months later came and got me. We didn’t hear from them until the end of the year. We damn near forgot about them. During that time, she was pregnant and gave birth to Giselle.”
I could tell she was pissed just by the way her nose flared. She always carried how much she hated her parents so openly while Priest concealed it. My wife was a straight shooter and couldn’t fake the funk unless it was necessary.
“That’s fucked up, Lovey. I’m sorry you going through that. You looked into her yet?”
She nodded while quickly typing away on her phone. “Found her on Facebook.”
She flipped the phone so I could see, and I did a double take. My eyes shifted between the phone, then to my wife. She and Giselle were practically twins! They were full-blooded siblings opposed to Priest, who was just their half sibling, and that shit showed.
“Lovey, she looks just like you.” I stressed with my eyes wide.
They looked just like Sylvia. The honey golden skin tone, tall model like frame, and even the long jet black hair was the same. The only visible difference was in the dimples Giselle had in her cheeks.
