Page 52 of Heart Of A Goon II

I know at times she felt she failed.

Me going to prison and Khaos following down the same path. I knew she was disappointed in us. She had always been critical of the life Chef lived, so seeing her boys follow the same path had to have her feeling like she failed as a parent.

It was hard to sit back and punch a clock at a nine to five when I watched her struggle. My mother held a job and worked harder than most and she still could never get ahead. She never let us see the silent tears she cried, but I knew it was a struggle trying to put food on the table, while trying not to lose hope. Nothing was ever enough, because as soon as she felt like she was three steps ahead, life dragged her four steps back.

This may have not been the life she wanted for her sons, but at least I was able to rest knowing that my family was taken care of. I’d repent later. My mother and aunt had their bills paid and never had to work a day in their lives. If my mother wasn’t so damn stubborn, she would have had a brand-new home in the suburbs.

Inez should have had a soft life, too. Her choice in men is the reason she struggled. She could have lived a soft life but chose struggle instead. Instead of continuing to play basketball, going off to college and having a life away from the hood, she chose to be with a nigga who didn’t mean her any good. One who got her addicted to drugs and continued to pull her down the wrong path.

The crazy thing was that he didn’t even stick around to watch the destruction he caused. She experienced a great loss – alone. He wasn’t there to wipe her tears and help her mourn their son. I would never say this to her, but I blamed her for Melle’s death. Inez was so fucking stubborn and determined to struggle when she didn’t have to. If she would have moved back home and kept him from over that way, he would be here.

My heart was broken, and I don’t think it would ever heal. Melle was supposed to be here. Every time I saw Jaiden, I thought about my cousin. He loved playing ball, and that shit would have taken him far away from the hood.

When I heard from witnesses how he pleaded for his life. Begged a nothing ass nigga to spare his life like he was God. They left his body sprawled on that corner like he didn’t have a family.

A family who loved him.

One who would have done whatever to save his life. I would have given my own life to spare his, had I been given the chance. My little cousin was murdered in cold blood because of a beef that I had.

As much as I blamed Inez, I blamed myself more because none of this shit would have happened if I hadn’t been in the streets.

My main concern has always been to protect my family. Chef had instilled in me that a man protects his family. As much as he was always in and out, he made sure he protected us. As I became older, it was up to me to take the lead, and when Melle was murdered, I failed.

That was my burden to carry.

I was behind bars when my cousin was murdered. There wasn’t shit I could do from behind that wall, and they knew it. My heart broke into a million pieces watching the news of Inez scrubbing the blood from the pavement, screaming and begging for someone to bring her baby back.

I couldn’t do shit.

It was the main reason that I couldn’t give up on her. No matter how much I disapproved of her lifestyle, I could never turn my back.

Inez had done things that I should have cut her off for and allowed her to fend for herself. Each time she looked up at me with those eyes, the same eyes she and her son once shared, I saw the girl who needed her older cousin. The one who would call me when the boys in the park picked on her. I had always been her protector and as much as I wanted to leave her ass out to dry, allow her to figure shit out on her own, I couldn’t do it.

Khaos looked at me as I hit bypass on the alarm system.

We were too good at getting in and out of places we were never supposed to be in. The white detached single family home in Ozone Park was no exception to that. The security sensor that would have alerted the homeowner someone had entered their home was disabled. We were able to slip in quietly, almost like we owned this bitch, stuck the key into the lock and were granted access.

I should have kicked my boots off in this bitch and checked the fridge like I was home. Knowing me, if I saw pork in the fridge, everybody in this bitch was catching bullets.

It was the early hours of the morning, the best time to handle business. The morning, before the sun rose, was the best time to get into places. More than likely, you had gone to take your last piss before the sun came up. The house was always still, and you were more focused on getting that last wink of sleep before the alarm went off.

The hardwood floors creaked underneath my Timbs, as I observed the home. It smelled clean, like a woman’s touch clean, not a fat nasty fuck clean. The linen curtains were perfectly draped over the circular windows, showcasing the front of the home. My eyes followed the color scheme into the kitchen. The cream-colored cabinets and hanging pendant lights over the kitchen island looked expensive. The gold on the cabinet’s hardware glistened off the streetlight that came in through the kitchen’s window. The wine rack built into the wooden island sat stocked with different kinds of wines.

Shit looked expensive, too.

Everything looked expensive and had its place. Like someone took pride in where they laid their heads. I could tell this wasn’t a man’s touch, though. Only a woman would have paid close attention to details like switching out the outlet plates, and a cookbook on the side of the stove, giving it a cozy touch.

This made it worse for him.

I moved deeper into the home, careful not to knock into or touch anything. My big ass was so stealth that eventually my Timberlands were barely making noise against the floor. Khaos moved around the oversized couch that sat directly in front of the window. The burnt orange pillows mixed in with the beige sat neatly on the couch with a fresh chop in the center. The fashion magazines were stacked neatly on the coffee table for show.

They were for show, not to be touched and damn sure not to be read. Ollie’s fat ass wasn’t reading fashion magazines.

My jaw tightened.

He had a regular life, meanwhile he decided to invoke chaos on my baby’s life. His woman was put up very securely while he put another woman’s life in jeopardy. Instead of doing what he was paid to do, he decided to go against the grain. I knew Menace could get him taken care of, but this was my problem to handle.

I had to teach this nigga a lesson about fucking with mine.