Capri 3

3. Cappadonna

cappadonna

. . .

When I saw my boy look me in the face and tell me that I didn’t raise him, that shit hurt worse than getting shot. I knew I wasn’t there for him, and that was mainly because of his mama. Since finding out about him, I tried my hardest to teach him the way. Show him how a real man moved. As much as his aunt raised a good man, she wasn’t a man and couldn’t show him how to move in the streets he found himself in.

Capella told me he wanted to continue in the streets, and I respected it, knowing he didn’t need to work. The minute I found out about him, I made Capone open up a trust fund for him. Capella had more money than the average man his age, and he never had to put in work. He could retire and be a father to his son. He was like me, in the way that he wanted to earn his keep. He wanted to provide for his little family, and I respected that.

I’m not a perfect father and I know I may fall short of some things, but when it comes to my kids I’m always going to try. They never have to worry about love because I was there to show it to them. Aimee’s ol stupid ass was included in that, because I saw her like one of my kids. The little asshole had wormed her way into my heart since she became part of this family. I thought I did a good job at showing her that she could come to me, I showed her love like I did the rest of my kids. Hell, Promise was loved so much that she knew when I picked her up that I needed my kisses to start my day.

“Roy,” I turned to see my wife standing in the doorway of Promise’s bedroom. She was asleep peacefully in her crib, and I couldn’t take my eyes from her.

She was perfection.

I would do whatever I had to keep her protected, and never leave her. Promise Delgato would never have to visit me in a prison, and I wouldn’t be taken away from her or our family. Since finding out what Morgan had been up to, I would be lying if I said I was sleeping every night and life was going on like planned.

Having Baby Doll involved never made me feel at peace. She should have been enjoying her pregnancy, not making sure her brothers were kept out of prison.

“What’s going on, Joy?” I leaned in the doorway, towering over her as she looked up into my eyes.

“I’m never going to ask you not to do this because I know you have to.” She reached up and rubbed my face.

“My fucking grandson and Aimee, Joy…can’t ignore that.” As much as I wanted to snap Aimee’s fucking neck, I was trying real hard to keep my distance from her.

I warned her ass that I was a fucking dentist, and it was getting real hard not going to snatch her teeth out of her mouth while she choked on her own blood. Then I had the other side that wanted to just hug her because she was so fucking lost and confused, too. I could tell her that we were her family until I was blue in the face, but she had to believe that shit, too. Why the fuck she thought she could handle the situation was beyond me.

The father inside of me was fucking soft as shit. She had nobody and I couldn’t turn my back on her. “I know… she says she called you and you won’t speak with her.”

“Joy, the fuck I’m supposed to say to her? She could have got them both fucking killed moving like a dumb bitch.”

Joy winced at my choice of words when it came to Aimee. Since she had come into our lives, I had developed a soft spot for her. “How do we fix this with Capella and Aimee? Rory needs both of his parents.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what happens in their relationship.” I looked down into my wife’s eyes. “I made a promise to her father that I would always hold her down, and I don’t break promises… you should know.”

She gave me that smile that I loved so much. My fucking wife was beautiful, and every day that I got to see her was a blessing. I could never leave her behind and go behind a fucking wall again. Morgan was gonna end up in a fucking ditch before I would ever return back to prison.

“Never broke a promise to me once… Big Capp stands by his word,” she laughed, as she rubbed my beard.

“Big Capp would put something big in you if I didn’t have to handle shit.” I kissed her on the lips, and she gave me a hug, with one arm, and then revealed what was in her other hand.

“Be careful, Roy,” she handed me my Desert Eagle, and looked up at me with hopeful eyes. Soon as I left, I knew she was going to go pray.

I tucked it into my black hoodie and kissed her on the lips. “Always.”

Walking out the room, I held my hand behind me, and felt hers slip into mine as we walked downstairs. As we touched the bottom step, Capone and Erin came through the garage. From how tense Erin was, I could tell she gave him the same talk Alaia had given me.

We were supposed to be on a private island enjoying the baby moon I planned for my wife. Even though shit was still tense between me and Capo, it was our wives that were forcing us to fix the shit. It had been years since me and Capo tried to rip each other’s head off. The stress and pressure of not knowing how this shit could go had gotten the best of me, and I could admit I was wrong.

Capone rubbed his hands together, and then leaned down to fix his Timbs. When he stood up, I said, “If this shit goes left…”

He smirked, revealing his grills. “You already know we bringing this shit all the way back right…. Fuck you meaann,” he mocked Goon.

“You still fucked up, Capo,” I replied, holding his ass accountable, even though I understood the position he was in.

“And don’t I always fix my shit?”

“All the time.”

When Erin got in my ass, I realized I was too hard on my twin. He was the nigga holding shit down, and the reason we lived the life we lived today. Nigga was out deep in the streets making moves for our family.

I couldn’t sit and pretend like he didn’t have me in prison comfortable because of the sacrifices he made. Capone would always be number one when it came to me because he handled business and did that shit without me by his side. Everyone used to always underestimate him because he was quiet, and I was the mouthpiece. He proved that he didn’t need to make a lot of noise to get niggas to pay the fuck attention.

“Both of you make it home to us, do you hear me?” Erin looked at both of us, as Alaia stood next to her.

“I lowkey wanna come,” she shrugged.

Capone laughed. “Pipe down, Ms. Gunn.”

Watching Joy shake hands with the man who wanted me dead or behind bars was satisfying. Morgan had no clue that he was shaking hands with Mrs. Capp. I watched my wife and knew her faces, and my baby wanted to end that nigga right then and there. The little snide marks she made had made Morgan uncomfortable, but he played it off with a nervous laugh.

She did the gun movement. “Roy, can I co?—”

“Stop playing with me. It already took Capone and Quasim to keep me from running out there when that sick fuck kept eye fucking you,” I cut her ass off before she could even ask the question. Joy loved to bust her gun like the next person.

I wasn’t scared to take my wife with me because I knew she could handle shit. Sweet Joy knew how to spin some shit, and she enjoyed that shit.

“Where’s Capella?” Erin questioned.

Since Rory and Aimee had been discharged, she had been staying at my parent’s house. She didn’t want to be in the house alone, and my mother wanted Rory close. She had been taking care of both Aimee and Rory.

Capella had been back and forth to spend time with Rory. He was staying at his aunt’s house that Jasmine had taken over. She had continued the renovations, and was trying to get Kincaid to move in. Even though they were together with a whole ass son, the nigga didn’t want to move in, so he spent one week on and one week off there.

Why did I know this?

Because Kincaid never wasted time venting and asking my opinion on what I think he should do. I don’t know when I became Dr. fucking Capp, but I needed these niggas to get their shit together.

“Staying with Jasmine because his ass know he wrong for the fuck shit he said,” Capone replied.

Quasim had put me onto how Capone tried to flip my son on his neck for the fuck shit he said. Me and Capella hadn’t had a talk about it, and I didn’t want to have one until he realized what the fuck he said.

I wasn’t one who wanted fake ass apologies without any thought to them. Whenever he was ready to sit down and have a conversation, he knew I was there and would always be there for him. Capella never had to question how I was coming behind him, even when we were at odds with each other. It was the same with my twin, I could want to rip that nigga’s head off, but I was the only nigga who could.

Once someone’s ass tried, then we were both breaking their neck before going back to beefing with each other. You didn’t have to understand, but you were gonna respect how me and Capone showed up for one another.

This hole in the wall lounge/club on Pitkin Ave was known to have a bunch of crip niggas always around. Every fucking weekend this spot was on the news because someone got killed. The owner was told to shut down and even lost his liquor license, but that didn’t stop shit. His establishment was still opened, and he was still serving drinks.

The block was thick as shit as I pulled my truck onto the block with Capone in the passenger seat. IG’s covered both sides of my truck, as Quasim and Quameer took their spots in the front. We cruised Pitkin, as we looked for the little swap meet ass lounge they wanted to hang out at.

Apparently, Khalil needed protection on the inside and he decided to have some crip niggas look out for him while he was doing his time. Big mouth was talking about all this money he was coming home to, and those niggas wanted they money for the protection they provided.

When I was on the inside, I knew niggas from both sides, and even knowing them, I never got fucking down with them. It was all respect, so they knew how I was coming. I didn’t need their protection because I handled shit and all them niggas knew it.

Khalil was only fronting like he was about that shit until he got behind that wall, and he needed that protection to keep his ass from getting tossed up. I don’t give a fuck about them handling Khalil, my issue was them pulling a fucking gun and shooting inside of a car with a baby in it.

Not only a baby, my fucking grandson.

Aimee explained how they were coming at him as she screamed about her baby being in the car, and they still pulled they shit and shot the truck up. Now, I had to go and teach ‘em that was a mistake, and now somebody had to answer for the shit.

All I saw was a sea of fucking blue and looked at my twin. “I’m on whatever you on.”

The Maserati whipped in front of us, and I watched as Capella stepped out. Core went to pick him up, and from the look on his face, I could tell my seed wanted to handle this.

“Look like Capella about to handle this shit.” Me and my twin watched as he walked past all the men wondering who the fuck he was.

Like a magnetic force, I was out my whip and having his follow up. I don’t care what he had to say, I was always going to ride when it came to my son.

Soon as we got on the sidewalk, I could hear all the pussies mumbling under their breath. Naheim dapped me and Capone.

Quameer got off his bike and swaggered over toward us. “They get crazy, then we get crazier… feel me?”

“Already know.” I dapped him.

Meer looked at Naheim. “What up? You ain’t gotta avoid me.”

I laughed because Naheim stuck his middle finger up. “Fuck you, Meer… I lost my footing.” He made an excuse as to why he got his ass handed to him.

“Nigga, every dog loses a fight… not taking shit from you ‘cause I know how you get down… Meer just happened to give yo’ ass the business.” I laughed.

Naheim might have been a shitty ass husband and a thorn in my side, but he handled business when it came to it. I would never take that from him because I knew he handled his business. Meer happened to handle his ass that day he almost put him on his neck.

Quasim came over and dapped me while smiling at his phone. “We on whatever you on… let us know.”

“I promise I ain’t never saw this nigga smile since I met him,” Core laughed, as Sim was still in his phone.

I knew he was talking to Blair, because that was who had his attention the most these days. I was glad that someone had his damn attention because Joy told me she could pick up some Pride decorations on her next shopping trip.

“Naheim?” We all turned when we heard a woman yell this nigga’s name.

He was looking at the line that was waiting outside the lounge. “Janay? What up?” Naheim smirked.

“What the hell are you doing over here? I knew you were into something,” she blushed, as she flipped her hair to the back.

Naheim ignored her statement. “What the fuck you doing out here? Ms. Animal Crackers and Juice Box… next time my boy better be first to get one.”

I assumed she was a mom in the little music class he had NJ enrolled in. “Whatever, your boy better not hit mine again,” she giggled.

Naheim walked over toward her, lifting the rope. “I’m gonna get you in… come on.”

One of the two bouncers came over and touched Naheim. “Nigga, who the fuck died and made you the fucking boss?”

Naheim did this laugh that told me the bouncer had one more time and he was gonna set shit off on this block. “Yo, Janay, come on… your girls coming?”

One of her friends damn near broke her neck leaving the line. “And he got cute friends… look at them,” she strutted and walked toward me.

“Very much married, Mama,” Quameer shoved his ring into her face, causing her to back away. Damn girl almost tasted the damn gold on his wedding band with how fast and close he had it to her face.

Shorty looked at both me and Capone and had this silly ass grin on, and we held our hands up. “Damn, all y’all married?”

“And Mrs. Capp don’t play about me… might get yo’ ass sent to the morgue.” I winked and turned my attention to Capella talking to the bouncer. As I was about to say some smart shit to Core, we turned when we heard motorcycles.

“The fuck is Pops doing here?” Meer said as we watched both bikes pull up, my father on his and Papa on his.

Des Delgato had always loved bikes, that was where I got my love of bikes and cars from. He would always be reading the same car magazines that I now read when I got time to chill the fuck out. My goal was always to move my family out the hood and buy my father a bike. We were poor, so having a bike was crazy when you needed to feed your family.

I remember when Capone called and told me we were good when it came to money. He told me about all the accounts he opened for me and asked me what I wanted to buy. He knew I had some time ahead of me and I think he was just trying to get me to look forward to something. I told him I wanted to buy Pops a bike, like he always spoke about when he read his magazines. I didn’t give a fuck about a brand-new home, or anything with the money. I wanted my father to have his bike.

These days, his bike collected dust in the garage, and I hadn’t seen him on it since I been home. Ain’t gonna lie, when I saw him pull up I got excited as shit like a little boy seeing his father on a bike for the first time.

In a sense, I was a little boy witnessing my father on a bike for the first time. Since being home, there were a lot of moments I was witnessing for the first time that some people would have taken for granted.

Like walking across the street and sitting beside my pops while he watched boring ass bowling. It was something about taking in his scent, and his laugh that I missed. The nigga be in his own world, and I be sitting beside him just lost in the fact that this man was my father. Knowing the shit he went through now, the respect I had for him was fucking out this world.

Des Delgato was that nigga.

I watched as he and Papa climbed off their bike and dapped a few IG’s, who moved out the way for them to come through. “Old man Des out the fucking house… bowling not on, Pops?” Capone joked.

My father laughed while shoving him and reaching up and pinching Core’s chin. “They came at my great-grandbaby, and that’s a no in my book.”

Papa rubbed his hands together. “With another grandbaby on the way… a message needs to be sent. I don’t give a fuck if they were handling whatever with that cat that got done up… they gonna learn to open them fucking eyes before letting they hammer do the talking.”

While talking to my pops and Papa, we all saw Capella whip his gun out and put the shit to the nigga’s temple.

“Oh fuck… he has a gun,” I heard one of the chicks that was with Naheim’s friend whisper as she stepped down from the sidewalk and tried to hide behind my truck.

“Yeah, nigga… all that list shit is irrelevant when I put that steel to your dome, huh?” He smirked, amused that the bouncer was now sweating after talking crazy.

I already peeped one nigga, and he walked over toward Capella as I made my way to him. “Take that gun from his head, or your brain ‘bout to be all over this concrete,” he threatened.

I watched my son for a minute, and he was still relaxed, as if the gun wasn’t to his head. There was no fear in his eyes as he looked out the corner of his eye and saw me. As homie was about to say something, I snatched him up, and tossed his ass, watching him bounce across the pavement.

He jumped up and tried to cock his gun back, and Core grabbed him, taking his gun and walking his ass to the city trash bin that was on every corner in the city.

“Get the fuck in there.”

Homie looked at him confused and Core cocked it back and smiled. “What…what the fuck you mean?”

“I didn’t st…stutter, nigga. Get the fuck in that trash can, or I’m gonna put you in it… spoiler, you won’t be breathing when I do the shit.”

The nigga held the trash can and hopped inside, standing in it while looking at all of us staring at him. “Stay there and watch my whip… I’ll be back… oh yeah... good looks,” he held his hand out to dap him, and the nigga was so scared and confused, his hand shook as he dapped Core.

I turned my attention back to the bouncer. “Let me see the list… I used to be a bouncer, you know,” I snatched the list that ain’t have shit on it. “Nigga, you over here playing bouncer… ain’t one fucking name on this bitch… other than a few bitches’ numbers,” I barked, slapping him upside the head with the clipboard.

Capella punched the nigga in the face, and he stumbled back as he walked past him into the lounge. This shit was less lounge and more hole in the wall club because nobody was lounging. Everyone was turning up, and it was packed from wall to wall with people dancing.

“Smell like bounce that ass in this bitch,” Core said, as we made our way through the crowd, heading to the DJ booth, because wasn’t nothing joyful about the shit that was about to go down.

Capella shoved the fuck out the DJ and tossed all the equipment on the floor. The music stopped and everyone looked toward the DJ, who had left and didn’t give a fuck about his shit being on the floor.

“Where the fuck is Bishop?” Capella yelled throughout the club.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” we heard a voice before we saw a body. A skinny light skin man with locs came through the crowd. “You come into my shit, knocking shit over and think I’m giving you answers.” He continued to walk, and I moved back and allowed Capella to handle this.

“You Bishop?”

“Don’t fucking wor—” Capella whipped his gun out and backed that shit out on him, while the man stood tall, trying to be strong knowing he probably wanted to shit.

Capella laughed. “You see… niggas almost took my girl and baby the fuck out, and usually I’m on some cool shit, but tonight I might fucking pull this trigger and then proceed to stomping yo’ body out… so I’m gonna ask for the second time, and the answer better be right or I’m pulling this fucking trigger.”

“Fresh, tell him… don’t do this!” a chick hollered, as she held onto her man’s forearm while Capella held the gun to his head.

“Tell me fucking what?” With his free hand, he grabbed shorty up and she screamed. “Speak fast or I’m pulling the trigger, and then turning this shit on you.”

I guess the rest of the crew realized what was going on, and Capone lifted his hoodie. “Give me a fucking reason,” he told them.

Quameer walked over near them, sparking a spliff, while flinching at one nigga who damn near jumped out his skin. “The real niggas ain’t here… nigga look like he about to piss himself.” He paused. “Say something… I dare one of you.”

I may have fucked around with Quameer, but that nigga would always be good in my book. The way he loved my sister and held her down, I never had to worry about him.

“ Honey , where they at? I’m losing patience and when I lose that, I lose bullets at the same time,” Capella looked in shorty’s eyes.

I stood back like a proud father because that maniac in his voice was all me. “Linden houses… they over there on the block,” she blurted, and he dropped her to the floor like a deflated fucking balloon.

Capella slammed his gun into that nigga’s face, sending him to the floor before he stomped him out while yelling obscenities. Capone looked at me, and I nodded so he knew to leave him. When it came to my wife and children, I would do the same thing.

He wasn’t a baby.

Capella was a grown man with a family of his own. A fucking confused and broken family, but it was his family, nonetheless. “Ain’t no fucking talking… light the fucking block up,” my pops said, as he and Papa headed out the lounge.

“IG’s watch these niggas… don’t need nobody giving them a warning.” Quasim said.

He followed behind his father as the rest of us left out and headed to our whips. Kincaid was already outside on his dirt bike. Since that nigga recovered, you couldn’t tell him shit. Naheim pulled his gun and checked his bullets as he went and hopped in the car with Corleon.

Capella got in the back of my whip, and was checking his shit as we all got ready. I watched Papa talk to both his sons and then saluted them as my father pulled away behind him. As I whipped onto the street, the IG’s covered my whip.

Papa Inferno and Des fucking Delgato took the head while Quasim and Quameer took my side and Capone’s side as we headed down the blocks, thick as thieves. Kincaid was ahead as the lookout.

Quasim pulled his helmet’s glass down and looked at his brother, who did the same thing. Quameer saluted, as he pulled ahead of us, and our fathers. Soon as we turned onto Linden, we headed down the block for a minute before we hit Van Siclen Avenue.

As we turned the block, on one side there was a school and then the other side had stores. I saw Quasim push forward, and all the IG’s followed behind with his follow up. My pops whipped his bike with Papa, as they pulled their guns.

Before these niggas knew what was going down and tried to pull they shit, we already flooded the fucking block like it was bike week or some shit. I whipped through as Capone and Capella both aired that bitch out. Quameer turned his bike, his feet skidding on the floor and doubled back around with Kincaid having his follow up.

I watched my father’s arm extend at the same time as Papa, and I was certain they had the devil in their eyes. “Yo, fucking Pops!” Capone was like me, a little boy witnessing his father handle business. “Bet, we on it like that!”

My father had always carried himself like he didn’t just drive fucking cabs, but tonight, I was seeing why his ass was sitting behind bars and got deported. That energy had transferred into his sons. I spotted Naheim hanging out the window while Core whipped his whip while they all ducked for cover.

The amount of gun smoke, and smoke from the motorcycles had the block flooded with a cloud of smoke. “Spin this bitch again,” Capella said, as he reloaded, and I hit a U-turn in the middle of the intersection, and hit ‘em again, as I sped off the block, going to get ghost.

My pops saluted as he and Papa went down one block, and Core went down another way. Quameer and Quasim both sped in front of us.

“Make it home to my sister, nigga!” I yelled out the window.

He saluted. “Already know I’m heading to my Sug.” I watched as Quasim went right and Meer went left.

I don’t give a fuck how wrong Aimee was, she was family, and we all were gonna let it go for her and Rory. Shit, I wished she knew how much I would have protected her.

At least those niggas knew not to fucking move reckless again.