Chapter 1
ONE
Three months later
Pulling from the blunt in my hand a final time, I passed it to Trent. Relieving my lungs, I pushed out the heavy cloud of smoke I’d inhaled, careful not to choke.
“The realtor needs to talk some sense into them motherfuckers.”
“Or, I could,” I offered.
“I’m not trying to strong-arm them out of their building, homie. Chill.”
“Nigga, you want the spot or not?”
“Yeah, but?—”
“Then stop acting like a hoe. It doesn’t matter how they get out of that bitch as long as they come out of it. It’s time to expand. Fuck the bullshit.”
“True. True. I guess we could stop by if they ain’t hearing the latest offer.”
“Pull down on ’em and they won’t have shit but what we offer them at that moment. With a Glock in their face, they’ll give you a hell of a discount.”
“Makai, you pushing it, nigga.”
“Nah, I’m ready for you to stop bitching and handle your business.”
“Trying to do shit the legit way.”
“Where is that getting you, homie?”
“I’m with you when you’re right.”
As he put the blunt to his mouth again, a phone began to ring. Because it was right beside me, I assumed it was mine. However, the red hearts gathered on the screen deterred my plans to answer. Trent picked up the phone between us, instead. The smile that tugged at his lips caused my top lip to rise slightly.
“This nigga in love like a motherfucker,” I hissed. “Showing all ya fucking teeth. Put them big shits up.”
“You ain’t never been a hating ass nigga. What’s up with you?” he asked, answering the call.
Saving my comments, I lowered the volume on the stereo so that he could hear his lady.
“What’s good, baby?”
His entire demeanor switched up. I watched as his hardened exterior softened.
Pussy ass , I joked inwardly.
Accepting the blunt he offered, I kept busy as the short conversation continued. Within a minute, it was ending and the music was up again.
“Take me to my whip. I’m calling it a night. Got to stop by the store and get Ava a few of her favorites.”
Nodding, I pressed the gas, disagreeing with the red light that demanded I stay put. Burning the rubber of my tires, I made the illegal U-turn and pulled up to the gas station.
“This nigga here,” Trent sighed. “If I don’t make it home to my girl, she’s going to be pissed. Stop all that dumb-ass driving.”
Disregarding his offensive comments toward my driving, I hopped out of the car the second the wheels stopped rolling and it was parked. Deading the engine didn’t cross my mind because I dared a motherfucker to even step too close to my shit and I was airing their shit out.
Without haste, I strolled down every aisle, loading my arm with whatever snacks my current appetite found appealing. I puffed on the blunt that I’d brought inside with me, blowing the smoke into the air, imagining how I was about to smash everything in my hand.
“Sir, no sm?—”
“Ahmad, don’t act like you ain’t see me come in this bitch.”
“Makai, my guy. What’s up?”
“I’m not ya guy, my nigga. I told you, get you some fucking drip with all this money you making in this bitch and then I’ll consider it. Get rid of them bifocals and get you some 20/20 vision. Stop wearing them boring ass khakis—matter of fact, forget it. Ain’t no hope for ya, dog.”
“Man, you know I got swag. Stop trying to play me.”
“Nah, in fact, you don’t. Niggas with it ain’t got to announce it. That’s rule number one. Rule number two, stop getting ya fucking shoes so big before you trip over ’em.”
“You know what they say about big fee–”
“Don’t ever say that shit to another man. Make that rule number three.” Scoffing with a shake of my head, I started for the door.
“Aye, man. You going to pay for that?”
“Rule number four, stop checking my pockets. Consider this payment for the game I just gave you.”
By the time Trent made his way back to the whip, I was working on opening the Jolly Rancher wrappers. When he slid in, I scooted my stockpile over to give him room.
“Really, nigga?”
Shrugging, I reversed out of the parking lot, bobbing my head to the beat that 21 Savage was spitting on. I gripped the wheel, popping a piece of candy into my mouth. With my brain buzzing with thoughts, I zoned out and increased my speed to get Trent to his destination.
“Aye,” Trent interrupted after a few minutes.
“What, nigga?”
“You good? You quiet as shit over there.”
“Yeah. I’m good. Just high as fuck right now.”
“Is that why you went on a shopping spree in the store back there?” He laughed.
“That and this long ass flight.”
“Flight? You headed out?”
“Yeah.”
“Since when, nigga?”
“Since about fifteen minutes ago.”
“With ya people?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah? Is that all you can say?”
Tossing my head back in laughter, I shrugged. “I told you I’m high. Fuck you want to hold hands and have a conversation for right now?”
“I don’t. Just trying to see what’s going on in that big ass head of yours. You be shutting down suddenly and shit. I’m trying to make sure you’re good.”
I appreciated Trent. The nigga kept my head above water many days. However, this wasn’t one of those days.
“I’m good. I promise, dog.”
“All right. You better be.”
“You check on me, then threaten me? Trent, I’ll shoot the shit out of you, then drop your ass off at the hospital.”
“Damn, you not gon’ stay?”
“Nah. I hate seeing niggas in them little gowns with they ass out. Shit trifling.”
“Nigga, is that all you think about when niggas in there hurting?”
“Yeah. That’s why you won’t catch me visiting niggas in the hospital.”
“They should’ve never let you leave the building as a baby. You have some missing screws.”
“Get out of my shit,” I instructed as I pulled up beside his car.
“Let me know when you touch down.”
“Bet.”
As I peeled out of the parking lot of Trent’s shop, I placed a call to Malachi. He answered on the second ring.
“Yeah?” he barked into the phone. Besides Mercer, he was the grumpiest nigga God had ever created.
“I’m coming.”
“I don’t understand. What are you saying?” He fought to hear me. There was chatter in the background that quieted after he asked the question.
“I’m coming to the island. I’m joining you niggas on the trip.”
“Oh yeah? Good. Wheels up at eleven. Be ready. Meet us on the tarmac, nigga.”
The call ended, leaving me alone with my thoughts again. A million thoughts scattered in my brain, a few leading the ship and sending shockwaves straight to my chest where my lifeless heart rested. Moments like so, I was reminded that I had one. It laid dormant for so many years at a time that it wasn’t the easiest organ to awaken.
I rubbed the left side, warming it slightly while continuing toward my crib. Using the text-to-speech feature, I left instructions with Pops to shut the shop down at six every day until I returned. While away, he and Mercer would make sure that shit ran smoothly. Though neither of them was part of the day-to-day operations, they understood the ins and outs.
As the city’s lights cascaded down on me, I fired up another blunt. The fire on the end of the blunt was the pathway to my contentment. Feelings . Them motherfuckers belonged in the trash and not in my chest. I peaked the sound on my stereo, hoping to drown them out. My efforts were in vain.
Thirty-five minutes later, the gates of my home welcomed me with openness. Engulfed in comfort, I entered and rode the length of my driveway while settling my rampant thoughts. A checklist of things that needed to happen within the next hour replaced most of them. Malachi and his promptness would spare not even a minute. If I wasn’t on the tarmac at eleven, the wheels would be up without me and I’d be forced to find the nearest missile to shoot the fucking plane out of the air.
The fence that bordered the left side of my house rattled, loudly and nonstop. Two large, well-fed Cane Corsos sent obvious warnings before their thunderous barking began. Proud of my boys, I stepped out of my whip and whistled, demanding they settled while simultaneously confirming it was me who’d arrived. Immediately, they opted for silence.
With a few taps of the keypad, I gained access to my home. Darkness surrounded me. From the black decor to the scarcity of light, I was most comfortable. My home, being an utter reflection of who I am, resembled me in more ways than one understood. From the most shallow parts of me to the deepest, there was darkness. It coated me on a daily. It was my safe space. My haven.
My first stop was the kitchen that led to the kennels where my dogs rested daily. Midnight and Ghost were barely a year old and had outgrown their first kennels, forcing me to build ones that would last them throughout the remainder of their lives. I grabbed the two bowls of food I’d prepared before leaving earlier, carrying them toward the kennels where my boys were waiting.
I sat each bowl down before stepping back, watching for either of them to break their stances. Like the good boys they were, neither budged until they heard the command.
“Eat.”
I headed back inside, leaving their door unlocked so they had the freedom to roam inside or out. Because they were trained like soldiers preparing for war, I wasn’t worried about them damaging furniture or making a mess of my home. Behavior wasn’t an issue of theirs.
I tossed another piece of candy in my mouth as I took the stairs. My socks pressed against the hard floor with each step I took. When I finally made it to my bedroom, I fought the urge to climb inside my custom king and get the rest my body was begging for. Hunger pains echoed in the quietness, warning me that the snacks I’d been smashing weren’t satisfying enough.
As if they were built on top of an AC unit, the marble floors of my bathroom cooled the bottom of my feet. I could feel the breeze through my socks. Mentally, I noted the desire for a heating system installation underneath the flooring to combat the coolness during the winter and fall months.
My reflection reserved my attention momentarily upon passing the enormous mirror that sat right above the Jack-and-Jill-styled sinks. Stopping in my tracks, I brushed my palm against the sea of waves that sat atop my head. My barber wasn’t bullshitting this week.
I removed the gold necklaces that rested against my chest, followed by the two bracelets and watch on the opposite wrist. Free of my jewelry, I shed my clothes next. Ass naked, I stepped into the shower where the water began automatically. Heated drops warmed my skin, forcing the memory of icy floors to evade my thoughts.
I planted both hands against the shower wall as I leaned forward. Water beads fell, massaging my back before rolling off and onto the shower floor. Weighted shoulders sagged as my father’s face appeared behind my lowered eyelids. It didn’t matter how many years passed, the pain was still present, still prominent.
The taste of blood on my tongue quickly rescued me from the deep end I was headed toward. With expanded nostrils and a shake of the head, I reminded myself that time was of the essence and I didn’t have much to loan to repetitive thoughts and lingering pain. I grabbed a fresh towel from the dispenser at the very end of the shower, poured soap in the middle, and scrubbed my hands together until suds spilled over the sides.
“Alexa, play some shit I like.”
Desperate to drown my father’s voice and dissolve his image, I immersed myself in the beat long before Rick Ross began to spit on the track. I scrubbed the day’s grime from my skin once and then again for anything I’d left behind. When I finally stepped out of the shower, I felt lighter—physically and mentally. Still pressing for time, I headed straight to the first level where I removed a combination of books from three of my library shelves and waited for the center of the floor to part.
As it did, I descended the spiraling case that led to my most prized possessions, including the safe that held my life’s savings. Everything I’d worked my ass off for that hadn’t been washed clean through the rim shop was behind the sleek, shiny steel.
Water cascaded down my back as I stood in front of the silver door with a towel around my waist and another dangling from my shoulder. I pressed my palm against the scanner, notifying it of my presence. From head to toe, a complete scan commenced.
“Welcome, Mr. Domino,” the system sounded off.
The locks turned, allowing me to pull the door back and expose my air-tight vault to open air. Bills surrounded me, stacked neatly from the floor to the ceiling. Moving swiftly, I grabbed a drawstring bag from the custom stash and filled the soft cotton to the brim before pulling the strings on both sides.
Within a few minutes, I was back upstairs with the fabric of my briefs brushing against my dick. I spat the remainder of the toothpaste into the sink and cleared my mouth of its residue. The minty mouthwash made my tastebuds burn as I swooshed it from one inflated cheek to the other, finally releasing it after a few seconds. Thirty felt too much like torture.
I layered my body with lotion and cologne. Black jeans and a black Balmain shirt followed. I lowered my jewelry onto my skin one piece at a time while in the full-sized mirror inside my closet. Last, I snapped my newest, diamond-encrusted gold plate onto my bottom teeth.
“Let’s get it, my nigga.” Gazing in the mirror, I demanded of myself.
The alarm blaring in the distance captured my attention. I made my way to the bed where my phone was lit and too fucking loud for my liking. Snatching it up, I was plagued with confusion, trying to figure out when I’d set an alarm and the reason.
To my surprise, my mother’s name appeared on the screen with Born Day just beside it. The wind was knocked from my chest, forcing me onto the bed where I rested my frame. My head fell into my hands as a groan fell from my lips. In less than two hours, it would be my mother’s birthday, and frankly, one of the worst days of the year.
There was a time that I waited up at night with my brothers just to crowd her with kisses and hugs when the clock struck twelve. But since her death, since her mental break, I hadn’t found the strength to celebrate her, celebrate them. Acknowledging her day at all was a fucking struggle.
Deep in my feelings, I jolted from the bed and headed downstairs with my necessities in hand. My feet didn’t stop moving until I was in the whip, waiting for the gates to close behind me. The volume of my stereo was nearly maxed out, forcing me to stay afloat and not get carried away by the wave of emotions that were threatening my well-being.
The miles required to enter the highway were full of dread. But the second I climbed the ramp and hit the newly paved lines, I stretched my shit out. I pressured my pedal until it was flush with the floor, not giving a fuck about the speed restrictions posted every few miles.
Young nigga move dat dope.
Young nigga–
Young nigga move dat dope.
Though the words didn’t come through my lips, I rapped along to the song internally, bobbing my head as I cleared the route to the airstrip where I was meeting my people. Knocking a few minutes off the trip, I managed to arrive just before eleven—the scheduled takeoff.
My wheels stopped rolling when I reached the staircase. I hopped out and removed the LV duffel from the backseat. When I made it up the stairs and into the aircraft where my family was waiting, it was then that I realized the mistake I’d made.
Malachi sat beside Aeir, who was as beautiful as the day I’d met her. The love I had for her came so easily, watching her love my brother with every piece of her while simultaneously loving herself more and more each day. Her spirit was the most angelic I’d ever encountered. Her ability to calm a room, and calm a heart with little to no effort, was commendable.
Milo sat beside Forrest, who was busy with her phone. Though she was head down, handling business, the smile on her face revealed so much. She was relieved to spend time away with the man of her dreams. A break from the children and birthing babies was exactly what she needed.
Ledge sat beside Halo, who was wrapped in a blanket with her head buried in his chest. Without a doubt, I knew that it was a struggle for her to make the trip happen, but her presence was appreciated. Just like Aeir, she had an angelic nature. It was soothing. Although she was battling her thoughts nearly every second of her day, they didn’t dim her subtle, yet notable glow.
Lawe sat beside Kleu, neither of them paying anyone around them any attention as he examined her nose for boogers. With upturned lips, I cleared my throat, demanding they cut that shit out. If that nigga could live in her skin, he would, and vice versa. They were pathetic, but they were solid. That shit was hard to come by.
“You wish you were one of them boogers, huh?”
“Fuck you!” Lawe spat, paying me little attention as he continued messing with Kleu’s nose. “Hmm. Do this.” He instructed her to blow slightly.
“Why are you still standing, Makai?” Malachi asked.
“Because I’m not about to sit down yet. I forgot something. I just wanted to come tell y’all niggas face to face not to leave. I’ll be right back.”
“You’re here. What do you mean, you’ll be back?” Ledge inquired.
“I got some shit to do. It’ll be quick.”
“Wheels up at eleven. Either you’re on or you’re not, nigga,” Lawe scoffed, finally giving Kleu a break.
“Nigga, do it look like I give a fuck what you talking about?”
“Here he go with this shit,” Milo sighed.
“Leave me alone and tell Precipitation to put her phone down. We’re on vacation.”
In the blink of an eye, Milo was up, down the aisle, and in my face. Ledge was the first between us.
“Let’s not do this. Aight?”
“Nah. Let Milo at least pinch this bitch. He always on that bullshit.”
I turned toward Lawe, refusing to believe he was choosing sides.
“Nigga, you and?—”
“Who?” Kleu stood to her feet. “Him and who? Don’t play with me, Makai. Because he and I will jump you.”
“Sure the fuck will,” Lawe confirmed.
“Ya feet big like a nigga. I’m not going to even make you stand on that. You look like you can fight. Speaking of which, Kleu, how tall yo’ momma? That shit ridiculous.”
“Fuck you, Makai,” she hissed, sitting back down in her seat.
“Who invited this nigga anyway?” Lawe looked around, trying to find out. “It’s a couple’s trip. This nigga ain’t got nobody, never had nobody, and ain’t gon’ ever have nobody.”
“I thought the same thing about you, player. Was starting to wonder if you were taking the pip?—”
“Chill with that shit,” Milo warned.
“Taking what, my nigga?” Lawe encouraged me to continue.
Instead, I burst into laughter.
“I really can’t stand this nigga,” Milo groaned, turning around and heading back to his seat.
“He invited himself,” Malachi spoke, finally. “Unfortunately, he’s about to get left behind.”
“No the fuck I’m not.”
“If you’re going to be causing turmoil, then you are, Makai,” he reiterated.
“I promise I’m going to be on my best behavior,” I exaggerated.
The entire plane protested. Some with groans and others with sniggers.
“Okay, that was a lie, but still. Don’t leave me. I got to run do something really quick.”
“I’m leaving you,” Malachi stated as a matter of fact.
“Bet. Call and tell y’all kids y’all love them then ’cause ain’t nobody surviving the crash after I shoot this bitch down from the sky.”
I’d made my point and there was no need to stick around to make sure it got across. If they had the sense that God gave them, then I knew the plane would still be on the ground when I returned. I left my bag at the top of the steps to assure them all I’d be back.
I slid back into my ride and floored the gas, burning rubber off the lot. It wasn’t until I was on Canton, ready to turn on Asher that I began obeying the speed limits the city officials had agreed upon. I pulled into the first available spot, closest to my destination, and hopped out. My chains bounced with each step I made, crashing into each other. With my right hand, I squeezed the butt of my Glock, unsure of what I was walking into, but not giving a fuck, either.
Mettlesome
Adjective
For a person or animal to be full of spirit, bravery, and courage.
Synonyms include: gallant, intrepid, brave, valorous, tenacious
My left knuckles beat against the door. After a long stint of knocking, I stepped back and pressed my back against the brick beside the door I had stood in front of. I watched my surroundings, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary or even the slightest bit suspicious. The sound of the locks turning grasped my undivided attention and held it until the door opened.
Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her beauty, again. Once, twice, and a third time, my heart skipped a beat. After months of her on my dome, she was in my space.
Mommas , my inner monologue called out.
Soft lips, baby hairs, a bun, and the prettiest face greeted me with sleepy eyes.
“Makai?” she questioned as if she didn’t see me standing right in front of her fine ass.
My dick hardened just thinking of the things I planned to do to her over the next week. The shorts that hugged her thighs and exposed her pussy’s print made my mouth pool with saliva. Dismissing the bullshit, I got straight to the point.
“You done crying ’bout that nigga?”