Kade #3
It took less than two seconds for the steel target to become riddled with bullets.
The force of the rounds hammered against the metal as shell casings rained to the floor around him.
When the burst finally stopped, he propped the weapon back onto its stand and looked over at me with a crooked, evil smile.
Normally that smile made me want to break his jaw, but today I was relieved to see my annoying little brother still in there somewhere.
Looking at my own target, I emptied the clip from my twin Desert Eagles. Cassian rejoined the party. He tore through another bullseye before redirecting his attention toward one of the dummy targets, ripping that muthafucka to shreds with enough force to make the entire stand shake.
“Aaahhhhhhh!” The yell ripped out of him as he fired, again and again and again. Every burst seemed to carry something different with it. Years of bottled-up emotions poured out through the barrel until tears were running down his face and the weapon finally clicked empty. Only then did he stop.
Placing my guns down, I removed my muffs and walked over before pulling him into a brotherly hug.
“It’s okay, bro. Let that shit out. You been through far worse than this, so we gone make it through this too.
We ain’t got no choice. You gone cry this shit out, shoot it out, then lay your girl to rest.”
By now his muffs were hanging around his neck as he openly bawled. I let him. There wasn’t a damn thing I could say that would fix what he was feeling, and sometimes a man just needed permission to stop pretending he was okay.
“Listen to me, bro.” I grabbed the back of his neck and made him look at me. “Once we handle all this, we gone get that nigga. You hear me?”
“Yeah, man. I hear you.” He wiped his eyes and tried to get himself together. “Shit just hurt bad as fuck, know what I mean?”
“I don’t, and I pray for this world’s sake I never have to. But we gone help you get through this, bro.”
“Good looking, Kade. Foreal.”
“This what brothers do. Now reload that clip, nigga. We ain’t done.”
We spent the next hour turning the fourth floor of Smith’s warehouse into nothing but shell casings, dust, and debris.
By the time we were done, both of us felt a little lighter.
The grief was still there. The anger was still there.
So were the problems waiting outside those walls.
But for a couple hours we got to put all that shit down and focus on something else.
Walking everything back downstairs, we thanked Smith for the hospitality. Before we left, Cassian ended up putting in an order for the same weapon he’d spent the afternoon putting to work.
“Come back and see me in three days,” Smith said, taking down his information. “I should have something ready for you then.”
By the time we got back to the house, we were famished.
My mother and Chef Aretha were in the kitchen cooking and listening to oldies like always, while Ysis sat on the couch with her feet kicked up, typing away on her MacBook.
Sliding next to her, I bullied my head underneath her arm and toward her stomach so I could talk to my babies.
“How we feeling today in there, babies? Mommy ain’t been feeding y’all spicy food again, has she?
” I shot daggers at her. Ysis rolled her eyes, because she already knew where this was going.
She was always trying to feed my babies spicy food.
Tacos drowning in hot sauce. Pho loaded with hoisin, garlic chili oil, green onions, and enough Sriracha to burn through concrete.
Then lately she’d become obsessed with scrambled eggs covered in extra cheese and breakfast potatoes smothered in ketchup, sour cream, and even more damn Sriracha.
I kept telling her all that hot shit couldn’t be good for the babies, because in my mind it was gone send her into early labor or something. Every time I brought it up, my mother and Chef Aretha looked at me like I was the dumbest nigga on earth and told me to leave that girl alone.
According to them, the worst thing that could happen was heartburn and the babies coming out with a lot of hair.
The entire concept sounded crazy as fuck to me, but apparently everybody else in the world agreed it was normal.
At this point it felt like it was Ysis and the twins world, and I was just living in it.
While she ate enough food to feed a small village, I seemed to get all of her sleeping symptoms because a nigga would fall asleep at the drop of a dime these days.
“No I didn’t, Kade.” she replied, breaking away from whatever she was writing so I could continue bothering her and my children. I would never get tired of saying that.
“How are you feeling?” I asked kissing both her wedding and Toi et Moi ring.
“Like I want these babies out of me. They’ve been really active today. My back is killing me, my left leg keeps going numb, and you don’t even want to know what’s going on with my nipples.”
“Can I guess?”
“Kade, I’m serious.” Her eyes watered with that crybaby shit she always did.
“I know you want more kids, but I need at least five years before we do this again.”
“I’ll think about it.” She narrowed her eyes.
“In the meantime, let me give you a massage.”
“Mmm, none of that.” My mother appeared from the kitchen carrying two steaming plates.
“Y’all come eat this food we just cooked.”