4. Hammer
HAMMER
Even before my brother spoke, I felt his eyes on me.
He didn’t have to speak; I already knew what was on his mind.
It was his fault that Merci had even been in my line of vision.
He’d had his eyes on Ariel all night but didn’t plan to approach.
We both had the ability to appreciate a woman’s beauty without trying to fuck or claim her.
There was something about Merci that made me want to do both, though.
I’d made up in my mind to keep my distance for that very reason until I saw Geno approach Ariel.
He was always on some bullshit every time I was there.
The more a woman rejected him, the harder he tried to get her.
Cujo had stepped away to take a call, so I decided to step in myself.
When I did, I wasn’t expecting to meet Merc’s daughter.
Yeah. I knew exactly who the fuck she was.
Regardless of me deciding not to try and kill him, I was fully aware of every member of his family.
I’d be a fool not to. Over the years, it became clear Merc had no intentions of going after anyone else in my family, but a part of the game was knowing everything you could about the opposition—whether they were a real threat or not.
“You playing a dangerous game,” Cujo admonished. “You know that, right?”
Shaking my head, I licked the Backwoods before rolling it.
“Chill,” was all I said, not really wanting to hear his mouth.
I listened to my brother when it came down to a lot of things, but about Merci, I didn’t want him saying anything to discourage me from going after her.
Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure why I wanted to go after her.
It felt too simple to say there was something about her, but that was the truth.
“Nah, you need to chill. You need to put that shit on ice completely. There’s no way her pops will let her anywhere near you if he finds out who you are.”
Sucking my teeth, I lit the Backwoods with a shake of my head.
“Merci isn’t going to tell her pops about me.
Not any time soon at least. For one, she’s attached to someone else.
And for two, she doesn’t even believe Hammer is my real name.
Even if she did tell Merc, he probably wouldn’t remember me.
What happened between him and Pops happened damn near thirty years ago. ”
“Thirty seconds or thirty years—a kill is a kill,” Cujo reasoned. “Her father killed yours. Your grandfather too. You expect me to believe that don’t mean shit to you?”
A sigh escaped me before I hit the blunt.
“What happened back then ain’t got shit to do with me and her.
And you, of all people, should know how I feel towards Pops.
Let’s not act like that mane was a saint.
He was a tyrant. An abusive bully who would get drunk and beat his whole household until we were strong enough to fight his ass back.
I didn’t like him. Barely loved him. I got my revenge on his behalf when I took Rey out. What more do you want from me?”
Cujo softened toward me. He leaned forward, voice quieter, and for a man like him, like us, his vulnerability popping out for any occasion was rare.
“I know what he did to us. I got the scars to prove it like you do. Hell, I got more from trying to protect you and Mama.” It was a sad truth that made us smile.
Not because there was humor in the situation, but because of how young we were when we had to learn to protect ourselves and each other.
“I’ll never deny that he was a monster. What I’m saying is, regardless of how he treated us, that was our father.
If you can honestly tell me you can be with this woman, fall in love with her, and sit across from Merc at their family dinner table knowing he released our father’s spirit, I won’t bring it up again.
If you can tell me you feel absolutely no loyalty toward our father, regardless of how he abused us, I’ll let you do ya thang. ”
Our eyes remained locked for a while, but eventually, I was the first to look away.
In this moment, I could tell myself that was the truth.
That no one would ever understand the abuse Gatlin put his entire household through.
That the hate, the anger, the evil that drove him used to drive us too.
But not anymore. Now, I wanted nothing but peace, calm, and quiet in my life.
I believed I could sit across from Merc and not want to kill him for taking my father’s spirit.
Truthfully, when Pops died, it filled us with relief.
We might have been hurt and angry that he’d been murdered, but the abuse stopped, so that was a win.
Unfortunately, we traded one danger, one enemy, for several others when we started rampaging in the streets.
“I hear you. I do,” I assured him. “I have no beef with Merc and his family. Pops was a beast, and he knew how his life would end. I’m not saying that excuses what Merc did, but his death was a part of the game.
Plus, the loyalty I had toward him is over.
Like I said, I got my revenge. Pops can’t get shit else out of me, and I for damn sure won’t deny myself of something or someone I want because of him.
He took enough from me. If I decide not to pursue her, it will be because we aren’t compatible, not because of you, them, or anyone else for that matter. ”
With a huff, Cujo stood and walked toward the patio. “Aight, young one. Be careful. I saw the way you looked at her, and I know you gon’ fall in love. If you can’t make peace with the fact that you gon’ fall in love with the daughter of the man who killed your father, leave that girl alone.”
My phone vibrating with a text cut off my response. At the sight of Merci’s text, I smiled.
Merci: I’m home Mr. Hammer.
Instead of texting back, I called her. The remnants of her chuckle ended as she answered with, “Hello?”
“I have a proposition for you, sweetheart.”
“Hmm, I’m intrigued. What is it?”
“I get three strikes, right? Three hearts?” I confirmed, referring to the three hearts she’d saved my number under.
“That’s right.”
“So, how about I get three chances to prove why you should leave him and be with me?”
Merci didn’t respond right away, so I took a few puffs of the blunt while she considered my request.
“Depends on what you want from me. I don’t want to give up something good just because you want to chase me and release me once you get me. If all you want is sex, I can spare you the trouble now.”
I wasn’t offended by what she said, because a lot of men these days operated from a state of self-indulgence and a lack of discipline.
Pussy was good—that, I’d never deny—but it didn’t control me.
I knew the power a woman could possess over a man, good and bad, and I spent a great deal of my life strengthening my discipline and character to avoid being set up or used.
Women were influential as well. The last thing I needed was to be blinded by pussy, letting the wrong woman sway me.
“I’m a real man. I protect and invest in what I want. Who I’m interested in. Lust and rushing would destroy what I intend to build with the next woman I commit to. All I’m asking for is the chance to see if that will be you. I believe it will be. Let me prove how serious I am.”
She grew quiet again, and I was patient with her. I wouldn’t suggest it was no love-at-first-sight shit, but I would be lying if I said there wasn’t something about her that I was pulled toward. If for nothing else, I wanted the freedom to explore her and see why and what it was.
“Fine. I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself, but I’m not making any promises.”
A slow smile spread my lips. “I’ll take that. Sleep well, Merci. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Mr. Hammer.”
“Good night.”
After ending the call, I got lost in my thoughts. It wasn’t until Cujo came and sat next to me and chuckled that I came back to the moment.
“Yeah. You about to get us into some shit, young one. I hope she’s worth it.”