6. Jovani “Von” Bendetti
Chapter 6
Jovani “Von” Bendetti
Pussy should have been the last thing on my mind, but shoulda coulda woulda. Ever since I saw ole girl at the mall a few days ago, she’d been on my fucking brain. I had her number, found myself staring at the shit multiple times a day but I had yet to dial it and her pickle head ass had yet to call me either. Shit, we hadn’t even as so much as texted each other nor had I gotten on social media and looked her up. I tried to limit my time on socials, but now and again I fell victim to it. Now that I was a whole father out here, I was changing a lot of bad ass habits.
“Aye.”
Girl’s big, round eyes landed on me. I was lying back in the bed facing a blunt, and she was across the room looking like she was about to crawl straight to the outlet where my surround sound was plugged in. We engaged in a stare-off, her hand paused mid-motion. Her big round eyes and wild curly hair that rested on her forehead since I’d taken those fucking braids out was bigger than her whole body. She had so much fucking hair, it reminded me of my brother and I when we were kids. Some motherfuckers may have thought it was childish as hell for grown ass men to have cornrows a few years ago but grandmother had never cut our hair. Now days braids were making a comeback and niggas that didn’t even have the looks for the shit were rocking them. Twin and I had been doing this shit. Just then, a thought of Girl getting braids crossed my mind, but it left as soon as it appeared. If a hoe made my kid cry. It was over with for her ass.
I didn’t even have to tell Girl not to touch the plug; my verbal warning was enough. Still in the crawling stance, she rerouted and made her way over to her pile of toys. Having a kid was cool. At first, I didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself. Most of the time, when I was in the house, it was because I had company, getting some much-needed rest, or nursing a hangover. Being cooped up with a child wasn’t bad at all. I thought that after the first week she would be getting on my fucking nerves and I would have wanted to return her ass to the sick fucks I’d stolen her from but that wasn’t the case at all. Girl was cool as a muhfuckah. The most frightening thing about having her was changing diapers and bath time. I did both them bitches with my eyes closed. I didn’t want to be invading her fucking privacy. She was a baby and couldn’t speak up for herself. The first time, I changed her blindly, the fucking pamper was sideways. When she went down for her nap, I practiced that shit on one of the dolls I door dashed when I ordered her milk until I got it right. I was the coldest blind diaper wrapper this side of Florida has ever seen.
Pressing the blunt back to my lips with my back resting against the headboard, I took one look at Girl’s slick ass before focusing my attention back to my phone. I didn’t even know ole girl’s name, so I stored her in the phone as Fine shyt. She was pretty. But I was used to pretty. I’d been knocking pretty girls since before my nuts dropped. Hell, Florida was polluted with pretty bitches. Something about the sun and the sand made the female population here thrive. I didn’t know what it was, but I hadn’t seen too many ugly women. Were there some? Hell yeah, but they hadn’t had the pleasure of sitting on my dick. She couldn’t dance for shit. That lil booty of hers was too plump and jiggly for her to be doing the fucking Harlem shake when I told her to put on a show. Since I was high as a kite, I couldn’t help the grin that broke through thinking about that night. I’d fucked the girl, tricked on her, and didn’t even know her fucking name. It wasn’t uncommon that I didn’t know the names of women I bedded. It wasn’t like I couldn’t remember names because in my line of work, it was vital that I took note of everything. It was just that I didn’t care. I fucked, they got a couple dollars if the pussy was worth it and I got the fuck on. But, me not knowing Fine Shyt’s name fucked with my mental.
That night, I could tell there was some shit with her. As pretty and good as her pussy was, she had this sadden aurora about her. It was why I told her to dance: I wanted to lift her spirits. It was something about her, though. This girl was on my fucking brain like a daunting task and I had to at least fuck her again to see if it was just my want of pussy or a nigga like me was really feeling her for real. Hovering my thumb over her contact, I hit the number, but as soon as I did, my doorbell sounded. Ending the call before it could connect, I sat up.
Girl looked up at me from her toys as if she was saying Ain’t you gone answer that nigga? Standing from the bed, I popped my back, put the blunt on the ashtray on my nightstand, and scooped Girl from the floor. As she was hoisted in the air, she dropped the doll and scooped up the bottle. The Doc knew what the fuck he was talking about because she preferred to drink the bottle fifty percent of the day and the other half she wanted food. We’d ate so much Pluck it that I felt like I was turning into a fucking chicken.
Knowing the visitor wasn’t my brother, I opened the top drawer of my chest of drawers and pulled out one of my guns. My brother and I had just gotten off the phone right before I smoked. I’d been on FaceTime with him and my nephews as I took my braids down, and by the time we hung up, I was halfway done with my braids and feening for a blunt. I still had half a head to go, so once I squared this visitor away, I would feed myself and Girl and finish my hair. Making sure the safety was off, I tucked the gun as Girl’s big ass eyes watched my every move.
“You bet not touch it either,” I gave her a look as I adjusted her on my waist. Her lil ass loved to be held. If I hadn’t been smoking, she would have been in my arms. But, she didn’t need to be inhaling all that damn smoke. Now that I think about it, it was probably why she was sleeping so much the first day. Her ass was high. That was just a theory, though.
Checking the cameras on my phone, I halted my steps, seeing the person on my doorstep’s shapely body, high heels, and long black hair.
“What the fuck she want?” I grunted with a frown on my face.
Girl looked down at the image on the camera, eyed me, and then stuck her bottle in her mouth. I didn’t know how she liked that nasty ass milk. I’d tasted it trying to make sure I had the formula right and it was bitter as fuck. It also gave her the worst fucking shitty diapers. I’d just had to put her ass in the bath two hours ago because she’d shitted up her back. Now that she was all clean in the Gucci dress her uncle bought her, I was praying like hell she didn’t do that nasty shit again. Changing a diaper blind was one thing; changing a diarrhea diaper blind was another. I had so much fucking dookey on my fingers it was ridiculous.
Walking through my home, I kicked the walker that Girl had used to run over my feet many times out of the way, and since my floors were slick, it dramatically flew across the entryway.
Snatching the door open, I didn’t bother to fix my face as I peered down at the last motherfucker that should have been on my doorstep. Her heels clacked as she faced me, and even her beauty didn’t get me to drop the frown. I didn’t fuck with this lady at all.
“What do you want?” I spat.
Her head drew back and she clutched her invisible pearls like I’d pulled the gun out and pointed it at those expensive ass heels on her feet and made her do a praise dance as she dodged bullets.
“Is that how you talk to your mother?”
“I was about to say what the fuck do you want but, since you had the decency to trap my daddy with twin boys, I figured I owed you a better greeting.”
Rubbing her glossed lips together, I saw that she had dimples, a feature that my brother and I did not have. I was glad about it too. Bad enough that we were light-skinned. We didn’t need no more of her pretty ass features. We’d had to beat so much ass growing up for niggas thinking Shit was sweet because we had soft features. Them niggas thought light skinned and pretty hair meant we were pussy until we proved that shit wrong.
“Is that what your grandmother told you?” she queried while shifting her eyes from me to Girl in a questioning manner.
“She told you I trapped your father?”
“Uh, yeah. Among other things.”
Melissa Bendetti rolled her eyes and scoffed.
“As the days go on, I’m starting to regret I left my children in her care. She’s a fucking nuisance.” Melissa’s orbs landed on Girl again who was looking her all upside her fucking head. That made me grin.
“Joanna ain’t who you want to fuck with. You know you can’t take her even with the Italian mob behind you, love. You already on her shit list. Just in case you were wondering, yes, she blames you for her business being burnt to the ground, and no, handing Titan over ain’t give you no brownie points.”
Her eyes remained on Girl.
“The mob is not behind me, son. I left them twenty-six years ago and have not looked back. Who is this cutie?”
Her calling girl cute had my lips turning up more. I wasn’t supposed to be smiling, especially not in Melissa’s presence. She was the opp. The enemy. I didn’t fuck with my mother at all. I didn’t have no fucking mommy issues either. I respected women even though I hadn’t found one worthy of settling down with. My grandmother would have my ass if I’d been out her dogging girls. I fucked and moved around but I treated them as a human being.
Despite my disdain for the lady who gave me life, I was smiling because she was right about Girl being a cutie pie. She was gorgeous actually and I knew that I would need way more guns than I had to keep motherfuckers away from her in the future. I didn’t want to think about that shit but it was inevitable. I was going to have a whole graveyard full of niggas about my kid. As Melissa waited for me to answer, she continued to smile at Girl as I inspected her. For a broad that had been running from the mob for twenty plus years, she looked damn good. Growing up, my grandmother had always been a beautiful woman but, she dressed her age even though she acted like a hood nigga at times with her running a whole drug operation. I often wondered if I would have been one of them niggas that had the fine ass mama that I would go to war over. I remember a few times my classmate’s mothers would come to the school, and the entire class of boys would comment on how fine they were. I used to wonder if my mama was attractive and if I would have been the one in the class ready to lay a nigga out for complementing my mama. Then there were days when I knew she had to be ugly. Only ugly bitches dropped their kids off after having the kids father killed. In my mind, Melissa was the ugliest fucker on the planet. My grandma had plenty of pictures of my father and seeing how he was a handsome ass nigga I knew there was no way he would lay down with nothing that wasn’t bad.
Seeing Melissa now without my brewing hate for her blind me, it pained me to admit I would have been one of those boys beating ass behind comments on her. She hadn’t aged too gracefully, but she did look good. I was glad that we had some black don’t crack in us because if we were full blown Italians I would have been just like her ass, paying the Botox doctor monthly. Besides the few wrinkles in her skin and her brows that looked like she was surprised all the fucking time, she could still give girls half her age a run for their money. Her white teeth were blinding, her skin blemish-free, her makeup perfectly placed, and she was dressed in expensive threads. Even the jeans she had paired with the silk Pucci blouse looked to have cost some bands. I didn’t know how much of her silky black hair was extensions and how much of it was all hers, but for the last few years, it had been the same. It could be real, being that my brother and I had long hair, but she could afford the best with the money Melissa had access to. Stupidly, my brother and I had only made her ass richer by pushing the liquid cocaine for her. The liquid cocaine connect was the only reason why she hadn’t gotten the door slammed in her face. She was the one who met with Augello and had the drugs brought in, cooked from liquid to powder, and distributed them to us. We needed this sea creature, and I hated like hell we did.
Her perfume reminded me of the fragrance I smelled the other day in Neiman’s, and I hated that it smelled good. I hated that she was in front of me playing with Girl and that Girl’s friendly ass was giggling and shit as she tickled her belly. The Cartier bracelets paired with the diamond tennis bracelets on her wrist clanked while she sent Girl into a fit of giggles. Needing to break this sentimental shit up, I took a step back, causing Melissa’s face to frown.
“Man, what the hell do you want, Melissa? You know ion fuck with you like that.”
It was no reason for me to fake the funk. Just because she and her oldest son had come to a peace treaty didn’t mean I was on that type of timing. That nigga was in a forgiving mood as of late. As a matter of fact, he was the forgiving twin. He’d forgiven me for slutting his hoe out. He’d forgiven Rainah for running away with his kids like she was the conductor of the underground railroad, and he’d forgiven this fake ass Kim Kardashian for abandoning us. He thought her coming back to us after twenty plus years and getting the feds off our tail while putting the plug in our laps was a way to welcome her in with open arms but I was on to her ass. Us selling that cocaine benefited her tremendously. It was a way for her to keep getting money since she didn’t have the mob behind her. We were her lifeline. We were the reason she was walking around this bitch like she was Queen Elizabeth. Melissa was nothing more than toxic pussy with good looks that our father fell victim to and because of that he lost his life. Now, all of a sudden, the mob was after us. I refused to let her be our downfall.
Tossing her silky hair behind her shoulder it dramatically danced in the wind and I scoffed at the shit. Bad enough her tired ass knew she was the shit, the elements didn’t need to aid into it. She was not the fucking main character, she was the fucking villain.
“I just came to talk, son. " Her long lashes, which weren’t crazy dramatic but long enough to make her look extra girly, brushed her botoxed cheeks.
“Well, ion got time to talk. I’m busy.”
She was back on Girl, and then me.
“You’re busy babysitting?”
Adjusting Girl on my waist, I took the bottle from her mouth because she was sucking on air. I read an article about her getting gas from that shit so I stopped her anytime she did that.
“Can’t babysit your own kid,” I stared Melissa’s ass dead in the eyes.
Her sculpted brows furrowed.
“Wait. Hunh?”
“If you can hunh you can hear Melissa.”
She cocked her head.
“So you’re saying this is your baby?”
Getting annoyed by her line of questioning, I cocked my head too.
“Ain’t that what I said?”
Chuckling, she looked at Girl again.
“You’ve had a blood test?”
“Hunh?”
“You can, hunh, you can hear.” She tossed my words right back at me.
“I heard your plastic ass loud and clear. I’m just trying to see when did you be able to afford the audacity to be able to ask me about blood tests.”
Rubbing her hand down her pants leg, she straightened her posture.
“As beautiful as she is and yes, she’s extremely gorgeous, she isn’t yours. Yes she has the fair skin and the curly hair but that’s about it. She’s not yours and the bitch that tried pinning her on you will have to see me,” Melissa’s eyes turned cold. Deadly. Shit almost had me shook. Almost.
“Matter fact, hand her here. We can do a test right now.”
Melissa reached for Girl who was actually trying to go with her ass. Turning my body in a way that drove Girl further away from Melissa, I held my forearm out.
“Man, watch out. Won’t be no testing going on.”
“And why the hell not?” Melissa’s lips pressed into a straight line.
“Because I never said she was mine biologically. But, she mine nonetheless.”
Confusion plagued Melissa’s face.
“So, you adopted her?”
“You can say that.”
“Jovani Bendetti! What do you mean you can say that? Either you adopted her or you did not. Which is it?”
“Man, you getting on my nerves with all the questions. But, if you must know. I rescued her.”
“Rescued her?”
“Yeah lil parrot damn.”
“I need more context, Jovani.”
“Not that I owe your ass anything outside of the percentage I give you off the drug money my brother and I sell, I rescued her from a human trafficking ring. Come to find out her parents more than likely sold her off. My brother and I found the ring, busted that shit up and I kept Girl here.”
“Girl? You did not name her that,” Melissa’s eyes widened.
“Yeah, I did. It’s just temporary until she old enough to figure out her own name. Whatever name her people came up with, ain’t fitting. After all, they did sell her. She don’t want that slave ass name no how.”
“So if she decided to name herself something ridiculous like Rainbow, you’ll let her?”
Shrugging, I looked down at my kiddo.
“If that’s what she wants, she gone be the richest rainbow walking around this bitch. Ain’t that right, daddy baby?”
Girl jumped in my arms and laughed.
Melissa took a step back, heels echoing on the concrete, and pinched her tear ducts. When her hand went to her lower back and her head was tilted back as her face pointed to the sky, I knew her ass was stressed the fuck out. She should have been glad she dropped our asses off because had she been around she would have had a stroke with some of the shit I’d done growing up. This wasn’t honestly nothing. I was the reason for many of my grandmother’s grey hairs.
When Melissa was done having a mental breakdown, she straightened her clothing and made sure not a hair of hers was out of place before she faced us again.
“First, your brother has twins whose birthday party he held and lost my invitation in the mail, and then you steal a child. We have enough going on right now, but I know nothing I will say will matter anyway. You’re a grown man who is capable of making your own decisions.”
“And is,” I grunted.
Melissa glanced between Girl and me for a few minutes. I was over this lil whatever the fuck this was. Girl was ready for her lunch and I had the munchies.
“You stole a baby.”
“I stole a baby that was essentially stolen. She was to be sold. Would it have been better had I bargained with the Russians or joined the auction?”
“You should have turned her over to the authorities. She has people who love and miss her, I’m sure.”
“I’m convinced all that Botox fucked yo hearing up. Didn’t I tell you more than likely her parents sold her?”
“But do you know that for a fact, or are you assuming?”
“Man, I know.”
Chuckling, Melissa ran her pink tongue over her stark white teeth. She was so damn mad and her red skin was indication. I didn’t give a fuck though. She’d better stand the fuck down and go shopping or some shit.
“Son, I’m so disappointed in you.” She exasperated like she’d lost her best friend.
The waves behind my home were aggressive, and the seagulls must’ve been finding food because their squawks were louder than usual. Licking my parched lips, I looked Melissa dead in the eye.
“Lady I don’t give no fuuuuck because I’m not too impressed by your ass either. The way I see this shit, we even, mother dearest.”
Giving Girl and me one last look, she shook her head.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated.
“When can I take you out to dinner, son?”
That son shit rubbed me the wrong way and was the perfect wrap up to this unwanted visit that I needed.
“Ion know. Ion got a babysitter.”
“What about your grandmother?”
Stepping back, I held the door in my hands.
“Joanna raised her kid and yours, too. She ain’t got time to raise no more. Bye, Melissa.”
With that, I closed the door and peered down at Girl. I’d ordered groceries, and the Italian part of me wanted some pasta, so that’s what I was cooking.
“Aye.”
Girl looked up at me with those doe eyes.
“Stop being so fucking nice. That’s how yo friendly ass got put in the human trafficking ring the first time.”
As if she understood me, Girl nodded her big ass head once. That was good enough for me, so we headed to the kitchen to start our food.