13. Praise #3
He gave me a hard stare to intimidate me, I held my hands up to mock surrender.
I didn’t even know that he had a thing for the girl.
She did look good to me, the scars added to her sex appeal.
She was curvy as hell and her personality seemed very sincere.
Part of me was happy that my brother had found somebody for him.
Ever since he lost Nia there was a huge change in him.
He became darker and more heartless. We smoked a couple of blunts and joked and laughed like old times.
When I glanced at Gunna, my heart hurt for him and me.
I dragged him into some shit that he never deserved to be a part of.
I wish I was no longer a part of this shit either.
Praise was a real stand-up guy and tried his hardest to look out for the people that he truly cared about.
He was hard on principles and loyalty. When I first asked him to join his street shit he declined for months and months.
Until I kept pressing the issue more and more.
He finally let up and let me join, sometimes I wish I never had.
At first, I thought it would draw me closer to him.
I always became jealous of him and Stone.
When I finally was a part of all of this shit, the money, cars, and attention mixed with the power that I received was overwhelming.
It all went to my head, I craved and became obsessed with taking over becoming who Praise was.
Niggas shook in their boots when Praise came around.
They bowed to him like a true king and saluted.
I looked up again and noticed Gunna staring at me with another look of disgust, it was time for me to go and give him the space he needed.
I loved his ass with my whole soul and heart.
For now, I had to put. Shit like that is on the back burner.
If I wanted to live as well as he lived, I had to carry my plan out and rob my brother.
I felt it was better to rob him than kill him, later down the line when our relationship grew more, I planned on killing Stone ass.
That would leave Praise no other choice but to surrender the crown to me and only me.
The more money you made the more expenses came rolling in.
I wanted to be well off like Praise so I could live a hundred percent lavishly without having to check my bank account every other week.
Praise was tired of the street side of things; I knew this because he stressed it all the time.
He always told us when he left the game for good to not expect him to come and help us when shit got hard.
“Well, I’m gone grab my duffle bag and head out. I need to be back in Cali to have a meeting with these new little niggas that I’m putting on at the new trap spot on Denker Ave.”
I lied, the truth was, I didn’t want to even be here when he left.
I didn’t want to face Gunna again, I damn sure didn’t want him to lay hands on me either.
He took his anger out on me most of the time, I knew the shit all came from a good place but I was tired and exhausted. I had too much shit going on.
“Well next time stay away from other niggas bitches, dumb nigga.”
He spat out with a hidden message. I ignored him, gathered my bag, and left with Praise right on my heels as he told Gunna he would check him later.
He wanted to get back home to Kayori. My brother definitely had it bad.
We walked out the door together, he threw his arms around me and walked side by side with me until we both stopped in front of our cars.
He parked his pretty ass Range rover next to my Benz.
Praise had a lot of cars but this one was his favorite.
I was stiff from his interaction with me but shrugged it off until he said.
“Michael, would you ever do some shit to hurt or betray your family?”
He stared me dead in the eyes causing me to swallow down the lump in my throat. Praise always could be random with his questioning. His eyes looked wild like they had malice intent in them. Shaking my head, no, I looked at him like he lost his mind.
“Nigga something got to be wrong with you, my nigga.” I looked at him offended as fuck.
“Something is wrong with me Michael, that is why I beg everybody to keep it real with me. Lately, you've been real off, I don’t know if it’s a bitch or some shit you done did that’s fucking with you.
All I know is I pray like hell it’s not something concerning me.
I’ve been having crazy dreams, this voice in my head hates you so much blood, but I?
I love you, you my little brother, I helped raise you. ”
He sparked a blunt and inhaled it then blew it in my direction. I remained quiet; my brother really had to of had a mental problem. He always agreed when someone called him crazy, he never would try to clear the accusations up.
“I might have some personal relationship shit, that’s none of your business though. Check the numbers and how shit has been going nigga, ain't none of my shit fucking up, and I would never betray or do no foul shit. You really need help bruh.”
He laughed, as he calmed down and looked more normal.
“I am getting help. Just remember blood ain't always thicker than water nigga.”
He turned to leave. I had this unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Shaking that shit off, I got in my car and headed back to Cali to put everything in motion.
No matter how much music I listened to or how much I told myself things were fine.
I kept replaying Praise saying, “A voice keeps telling me to kill you.” It made me wonder if my brother really did have a mental problem or if he really did hear voices.