Page 7 of Weddings on the West: Vol. I Brick & Destiny

Much to my dismay, the next seven hours flew the fuck by. Before I knew it, I was pulling up to a huge, two-story house with a ridiculously manicured lawn complete with a ginormous fountain with baby angels and shit.

“Where the fuck does this lady have me?” I mumbled to myself as I climbed out of my new Bugatti. I had just got her, and she was my pride and joy. I locked up and noticed Ma’s black Maybach pull up next to me. Main quickly parked and hopped out to open the door for her before turning to greet me.

“What’s good lil’ nigga?” he teased.

“Not shit. How you doin’ old nigga?” I joked back. Main was the closest thing we had to a father figure and helped Ma raise us. He was the one who taught us how to piss standing up, shoot, and all the other shit that turned lil’ boys into niggas. He taught us everything but how to fight—Ma taught us that. We exchanged niceties before I turned and stepped over to greet my mother.

“So, what’s this about?” I asked.

“Remember our deal?” she asked with a sickly sweet smile on her face.

“What deal?” I frowned up, genuinely trying to remember which deal with the devil that I needed to pay up on this time.

“I have a venue set for your wedding in six weeks, Brick. Will there be a bride present?”

“Ma,” I huffed. “That’s what this is about? No, there won’t be one.”

“Perfect,” she chided. “Follow me.” She didn’t say another word as she turned and swished her way to the front door. I swore that woman always had a built-in Beyoncé fan because it wasn’t even windy, so there was no reason for her hair to be blowing like it was.

“The fuck is she talkin’ bout?” I asked Main, who gave me a nonchalant shrug as we walked up the steps—ten steps to be exact, with a different commandment engraved on each one. If that wasn’t enough, the huge double front doors had big stained-glass windows with “Blessed are all that enter,” etched on top.

“Nigga, is this a cult?” I whispered to Main with wide eyes. Again, he chuckled and looked off. I knew Ma was crazy as fuck, but if she tried to make me repay my debts by selling me to some weirdos, somebody was getting shot. Main assumed his position in front and rang the doorbell as I took up the rear.

“Good evening,” a voice boomed as the door swung open. “Welcome to my home.” We walked into the foyer and were greeted by an older couple, both dressed in their Sunday’s Best at 6 p.m. on a gotdamn Tuesday.

“Coop,” Ma greeted as she looked him up and down in disgust. The woman next to him looked like she wanted to say something but knew better. “This is my oldest, Brick… and you know Main,” she said, nodding her head back as Main stood there like top flight security. He would joke with us in private, but around anyone else, it was strictly business.

“Reverend Isaac William Cooper II of Endless Prosperity Church of God in Christ, and this is my wife, Sarah,” he said, treating his wife like an afterthought. Hell, she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there anyways, so I guess it made sense.

What the fuck kinda name is that for a church? Sounds more like a fuckin’ MLM company.

“Brick,” I said, shaking his hand awkwardly. “So, you go by Coop?”

“I absolutely do not,” he shot back, giving Ma an ugly glare that she completely ignored.

“Aight then, Coop. So, can I ask what this is about?” I blurted out, unable to stand the suspense anymore.

“Your mother didn’t tell you?”

“All she told me was that I needed to meet her here.”

“Well… Your mother and I are business partners,” he started. I knew the nigga was shady. All the flashy religion had to be a front, because anyone in business with my Mama had to be straight from hell.

“He owes me money. His church is one of the businesses that I use to wash, and the motherfucker has been skimming off the top for the past year. Unluckily for him, I came to collect,” Ma corrected, looking down at her nails like we were boring her.

“You knew?” he asked, cutting his eyes at her. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“She was waiting on the shit to add up,” I said with a shrug. “Like when Walmart lets you keep comin’ in to steal until you hit that certain threshold. Consider this your felony.” Common sense, she gave the nigga enough rope to hang himself, and he did just that. I looked at them to continue because I still couldn’t figure out how I fit in this equation.

“A-and… In order to keep our business relationship solid, we struck up a deal. She told me about your situation.”

“My situation?” I frowned.

“How you need a wife in order to carry on the family business.”

I just stared at him blankly. I must have looked intimidating as fuck because he started sweating and stumbling over words and shit.

“I-I have a daughter, and I think she would be perfect for the arrangement,” he said.