Page 50 of Heart Of A Goon II

He looked from his wife to the woman. “You right, Ma. I’m sorry, Anjo. You know I don’t think you’re helpless.”

“I know, Simmy. Just like Meer allows his wife to do her and doesn’t try to get in the way, I need you to do the same. Know that every Inferno God and Goddess is looking out for me.”

“Foxy Brown over there wouldn’t have listened if I told her to sit down. She was hanging out of windows and shit before I locked her down,” the pyromaniac muttered.

I looked at the lovely exchange. “Ah, parentals… my mother was murdered.” I looked between both of them. His mother looked at me like I was some kind of freak.

“You happy about it?” she replied, nonchalantly.

I shrugged. “Some days it feels like a curse and then others a disguised blessing. Torn between it, honestly.”

She gave me her full attention. “Grief does that to a person. A tricky little mental vice grip that you can’t avoid, no matter how shitty a person was to you.”

“They were good parents… I think,” Don added.

“Good for you then.”

“Mina,” she tossed her name my way, never leaving from where she stood. The old broad was tough as shit.

“Menace.”

“And my name is Corleon. Now that we got the names squared away… let’s handle this. I miss my wives and daughter.” Bruster came into the room with his laptop in his hand. “Blair, I should be concerned with how fast you got this nigga eating out the palm of your hands.”

She laughed. “Well, they called me Blair Under⁠—”

“Go ahead, Anjo… share with the class.” Quasim walked over towards his wife, as she and Capri high-fived while laughing.

“Care to clue me in on what is going on?” I questioned.

“Care to let us know how long we’re all going to be in the dark?” Capri questioned, as she sat on the edge of my couch.

This had to be some sort of torture, because they were dropping bullets and sitting on the edge of my expensive ass couches. “Focus, Mens.”

Bruster brought me back to reality.

“The invite system to get in switched, so we’re not able to find the location to the gala, ball, what the fuck ever.”

“And?”

“Blair has been so gracious enough to take one for the team.”

Quasim nearly snapped his neck, as if this was new information to him, too. “What?”

She crossed her legs. “He invited me to the society ball as his guest.”

His hand remained laced within his wife’s, as he listened. “You comfortable with this, Anjo?”

“Yes, Simmy. I’m fine… he’s a square, and very respectful,” she assured him. “The minute I don’t feel comfortable, you coming, right?”

“Before you ever have to say a word.” He kissed her nose.

Corleon clapped his hands. “We done?”

“Fuck up,” Quasim laughed.

“Now that Kang is pleased, let’s continue.” Capri busted out laughing while holding her stomach.

I wasn’t sure what was so funny.