Chapter 11
Tunan “Tune” Payne
“Not you got a whole fuckin’ brother out here. I just knew your introverted ass was an only child. You ain’t never gave I got a sibling vibe.” Vello hit the blunt before passing it to his twin.
Seeing him and his brother standing next to each other threw me for a loop.
I didn't know motherfuckers still walked around sharing the same face.
I saw maybe two sets of twins growing up and hadn't seen their asses since. These niggas were identical, and the only thing telling them apart was the big-ass Pia tattoo in the middle of Nel’s neck and the way they wore their hair.
Shio kissed his teeth. “Vello, we all grew up like brothers, so the fuck is you saying?”
I glanced at my brother. He had his head in his phone but would to bob to the beat every so often.
Shio hadn't hit the blunt once while the twins had one in rotation. We were at the studio where Essex was in the booth. He was recording a hard-ass song, and the lyrics were real nigga shit. When Shio told me he was part of the mob, he forgot to mention that Essex was like a brother to him. I’d known about Essex—the tattoo artist—and even tried to book him a few times, but he stayed busy and booked solid.
You almost had to show your bank statement just to get a session with that man when he was in his shop.
Then, his mixtape dropped a few months back.
I was blown away when my cellie told me that his tattoo artist was the Essex and that his ass was rapping now.
“I was wondering who the fuck this nigga was at the sniff and dip.” Nel tossed his head my way, referencing me.
I’d seen all these niggas at Don’s big-ass, mega mansion, but introductions hadn't been made since I wasn’t officially in the mob yet, so I played the background.
Growing up with a house full of kids, I'd always known how to fade in into the crowd and scope the scene, so that's exactly what I did.
Outside of the niggas having some top-of-the-line bad bitches for wives, and everybody rocking limited edition time pieces and pulling up in six-figure cars, it wasn't much to scope out.
The scope was that these niggas were living extra fucking large, and I wanted in.
“What the fuck you call that shit?” the light-skinned one, Ezio, asked.
In the short amount of time I had been formally introduced to the Cuppacios, I was able to decipher everyone's personality. Ezio was the leader of the group, but, somehow, I felt like it was by default. I didn’t take him as no slaw-ass nigga, but with the way his knee was bouncing, I could tell there was some unspoken shit with him.
If he had a choice, he wouldn't lead anything, but he had his family’s backs—I could tell that from the way he gripped his toolie while his colored eyes looked to the door every time it opened.
Something had happened, and I knew it wasn't my place to know their past business, but I figured if I stuck around long enough, I'd find out what it was.
He was the only one wearing a wedding band, and even though he was a man, the ring was icy.
It made me wonder what kind of band I was going to get for myself once I locked some junt down.
I still couldn't believe I was actually going to get married.
Hell, I hadn't even said a word to anyone about it because, technically, Shio wanted to wife Glow for himself.
I’d officially passed the deadline Don had set for me, but that nigga hadn’t said shit, so I wasn’t either.
Two weeks was impossible, especially since I hadn’t given women a second glance outside of Glow.
I was going to ride this shit out until one of these niggas verbally told me I had no choice.
I’d get married eventually, and that Don nigga wouldn’t be able to say shit. Until then, I was thuggin’.
“The sniff and dip,” Nel repeated as he handed his twin the blunt back. Since Shio and Ezio wasn't smoking, I faced my own, letting the twins have at theirs. It was some killer weed too; had me relaxed as fuck.
“Sniff and sip,” I corrected with a chuckle, nearly choking on a cloud of smoke.
Nel raised up in his seat. “Well, excuse the fuck out of me Mr. Corrector. Dip, chip, a fucking bag of zip. All that shit sound dumb as fuck. I thought they was inviting a nigga to sniff some fucking powda. I was about to be like, ‘What the fuck Don’s ass is on?’ It wouldn't be too far-fetched, though, with the way he have us tumbling with the lions. He gotta be on some shit higher than Preston's giraffe’s pussies with the bullshit he be coming up with.”
“On foe ’nem,” Vello affirmed his brother.
Hearing my brother clear his throat, we all shifted our eyes to Shio who spoke with his eyes. The silent communication would have gone unnoticed if I had been slightly higher. It was cool, though; they could have their secrets. I had one of my own.
Shio hadn’t spoke to me about Glow since the date night rescue, and I didn't know if that was his way of giving me the green light or what. Either way, I had zero regrets about fucking her. She had good pussy, was fine as fuck, and wasn’t studying my ass.
She’d be the perfect wife because that meant she wouldn’t be on my back, and since she had more fucking motion than me, she wouldn’t be after my money.
I didn’t have much of it anyway, which is why I was here strictly to get my bread up.
Anything outside of that, I didn't give a fuck about.
I mean, if I were included, that would be cool.
If I wasn't, that was cool too. I had enough family with all of my mama’s kids.
“You said you just got outta jail?”
“Yeah,” I hesitated to answer Ezio.
“Well, I hope yo’ ass learned some finesse in that muthafucka.
We ain’t going to jail. We got too many fucking mouths to feed and too many fucking kids on the way.
Matta of fact, I’m glad we got another adult Cuppacio joining the pack.
You can take up some of these bills, make it lighter on my pockets.
I got a whole baby on the way,” Nel fussed, but something told me he didn't mind holding the weight of his family.
It could be the brightness in his eyes, or it could have been the grin on his face once he blurted out he was expecting.
I braced myself, expecting them to ask what I’d been involved in, but since it never came, I relaxed.
I wasn't the type of guy who walked around, putting his hands on women, and even though Stella deserved for me to break my foot off in her ass, I wasn’t happy about what I’d done to her.
People hear “domestic violence” and automatically label me as an Ike Turner motherfucker.
I wasn't cut from that kind of cloth. Where I'm from, we protect women and children. Unless she did something foul as fuck that warranted repercussions, we didn’t lay hands on women unless it was to bring them pleasure.
“So, what do you remember about the Cuppacios?” Nel sat up a bit in his seat. “The old, sick dead ones; not us new generation of ’em.”
Essex spoke into the mic, asking the engineer to restart the track, which I appreciated. He was spitting to a Marvin Gaye classic. I didn’t know how the fuck that nigga got the shit cleared, but I was fucking with it, and the streets would too as soon as he dropped it.
“Not shit. Ion recall nun’ at all,” I spoke truthfully.
I didn't remember much and didn't care to. All I remembered was what the hell my mama and sister went through trying to raise us all. My mama had six different baby daddies, and most of them were either dead or in jail. A daddy was like a foreign language in our house, and we’d learned to operate without them.
“Them niggas weren't shit to remember no way. Ion know how you grew up, and I don’t want to downplay your childhood, but just know… you was better off without any of them niggas,” Ezio stated through gritted teeth.
“On foe ’nem,” Vello added as if that was the only thing he could say.
“No cap,” Nel nodded. “We done made them niggas graves fucking porta-potties”
All of their heads whipped in Shio’s direction, who was still looking at his phone. He must have sensed us staring at him because his head shot up and he frowned. “What?”
“Nigga, we bonding over our hate for ghosts, and you in la-la land. Can we get a hell yeah, Amen, or something?” Nel blew out a cloud of smoke. He tried to hand the blunt back to Vello, but he declined.
“Shit starting to taste funny,” he said as his mouth twisted in disgust. “You done with your cup, Tune?”
I handed him the empty Styrofoam cup at my foot. It had been full of Hennessy until I downed it a minute ago. When the nigga spit in it, I glared at him as if he’d grown a second head.
“I thought you was done with all that fuckin’ spitting?” his brother asked him as Ezio and Shio started chuckling.
“Shit be coming and going.” He spit again.
“Yeah, just keep yo’ lips off my weed until Discover push out them lil’ gremlins. Yo’ mouth be too fucking wet anyways. Got the blunt soggy as fuck.” Nel flicked the lighter and ran it down the length of the blunt.
Vello huffed before spitting again. “Nigga, we got the same fucking DNA!”
“And! We not munching on the same bitch, though. Ion wanna be tasting Discover. She used to be married to a nigga that slurps dicks for dinner!”
“Hunh?” I was caught off guard like a motherfucker with that one. The confusion was evident on my face. “Mane, what the hell you just say?”
“We got a newcomer to the circle. Let me lay shit out for you…” Nel scooted to the edge of his seat. “Ezio is married to Don’s long-lost sister. Crazy-ass nigga almost killed the girl too. She overdosed and everything.”
“Mane what now?” I asked, making sure I wasn't too high to the point that I was hearing shit.
“Yeah, mayne, he was—”
I held my hand out. “Take that ye out mane, or don’t say that shit again.”
They all looked at me before Ezio burst out laughing. “Yeah, Nel. Tryna mock this nigga.”