We’d been properly introduced at the hospital, and I could see now that every single Cuppacio was attractive, regardless of the race of their mother. Many of us lucked up because our mothers were even more beautiful than the Italian motherfuckers.
“What da fuck is dis shit, Scarlett? Don ass tryna kill me?”
Wet clothes clung to my body as I stood on the sleek deck. She’d said she wasn’t here, but I was still looking for her. There were steps that led to the undercarriage or probably the living quarters, but I stayed my ass planted right where I was. I needed to see where I was going.
“This is your induction into the Rinaldi Mob.”
“I thought marriage was the induction?”
There was a white towel on a padded bench behind me, so I snatched it and dried my face, trying to get the water out of my ears.
“Marriage was merely a requirement, but in order to fully become a member, there are a series of survival courses that you must complete.”
“I did the one in Egypt.”
“Making a blind man see challenge. Yes, that was only one. You are behind on a few more, so you will complete them all today.”
“By myself?”
“Yes. But no worries, cousin. I’ll be here with you in spirit, guiding you, sort of like you did with Shio in the pyramid.”
Deciding to sit on the bench, I placed my head in my hands and groaned.
How was it that the other niggas had a chance to space their shit out, but I had to do all of mine in one day and without a fucking team? That shit wasn’t fair. Don must’ve thought I was fucking Captain America.
The boat rumbled and began to surge in the water. Just like in the copter, I saw no one driving the yacht as the room where the captain was supposed to be was empty.
“Dis shit ain't even worth it, on God.”
“You’ll do fine, Tunan. It's all a game of instinct. You use your God-given tools to get through this, and you’ll come out a victor.”
The yacht sliced through the water, a graceful dance of power and tranquility. A gentle hum vibrated through the hull as the engine purred, propelling the boat forward through the crashing waves. A refreshing spray kissed my face as the bow cut through the water. As good as the ride felt, I was aggravated. I couldn’t appreciate it for thinking about what was to come.
“In approximately ten minutes, the boat will come to a stop. You’ll then start the swinging challenge.”
“Swinging?” My head popped up.
The only swinging I knew of was from the Don Rio nigga that Nel and Vello had told me about. I’d met him at the gender reveal, and the hanging dicks still had me side-eying his ass. I didn’t know what type of shit Don thought this was, but that was where I drew the line. I’d seen enough dicks and ballsinvoluntarily to last a lifetime while knocked during shower time. The only one I was interested in seeing now was my own. I wasn’t swinging for no amount of fucking money.
“Scarlett, dey just gone have to kill me. I ain't doing no swinging.”
“It’s not as hard as it seems, cousin. You just have to hold your breath and let your body work for you.”
“Mane, what da fuck type of shit do da niggas in the mob got goin’ on? My brother be with dis shit?”
“Shio has completed all missions successfully. He is indeed with the shits. Four minutes.”
Looking ahead, heart racing, I began to look for an out. All I saw ahead were trees, and there was no way this big-ass boat could go through the trees. When Shio told me about joining the mob, he didn’t say shit about giving up your manhood. I was down for killing a motherfucker, robbing niggas who deserved to get jacked, and as of a few minutes ago, jumping from a fucking plane. But swinging? Yeah, no. My mama ’nem may as well get their black clothes ready.
The boat slowed to a stop, and I cussed under my breath. There were so many trees stretched across the strip of land that it was all I could see: trees and water. Various vines hung from the trees, but you couldn’t see beyond that or even through it.
“Scarlett… I ain’t with no gay shit. I’m ’bout to just jump back in da water. Tell my sister and nephew, I love ’em?—”
“Wait, Tunan. What type of swinging do you think I’m talking about?”
“Shid, gay shit.”
“Tunan, absolutely not.”
