Chapter 40
forty
“Aight, talk to me, how was day one?” Nate asked, as Cairo moved to his balcony to spark a blunt. It wasn’t as grand as Kamilla’s. He knew any space she was in was grand and not having that access right now because of professional obligations was an irritation to his entire existence.
“Tell you what,” he huffed, taking a seat and watching the bodies sixty stories down. “She finer than she was when I left.”
“You ‘bout to get the old thing back, aren’t you?” Nate asked, already knowing how this was going to go. However, with his insider information, he added, “I would implore you not to show your Vato-Azul ass while y’all out there working.”
“Boy, fuck you,” Cairo snipped with irritation growing, thinking about that stupid ass ring and the fact he had more of his father in him than he’d like to admit. “Who is this nigga she got?”
“Huh?” Nate asked.
“You huh you can muhfuckin’ hear. Who put that dumbass ring on her finger? I tried to get that shit off after she passed out, and the only option I was left with was cutting her finger off. My baby got pretty fingers, I’m not trying to leave her with a nub,” he stated.
Nate cackled. “Yeah, imagine your barbie missing a finger. Your niece popped the head off her barbie, made me buy three more. She got your crazy too.”
“Don’t put that shit on me, nigga,” Cairo stated laughing. “You got a little psycho on your hands. That’s her momma. It’s always those pastor’s kids.”
“Fuck you, Cairo!” Dania chimed in the background.
“First of all, no thanks. Second, I knew your nosy ass was lingering in the background. Who is this nigga giving my baby these baby ass carats?” Cairo returned to his line of questioning.
“You don’t have to worry about him,” Dania stated.
“I don’t? Yeah, miss me with that. You know how I feel about niggas being too close to her,” Cairo shared, his cool starting to slip.
“Oh, here goes the crazy,” Dania huffed. “What you gonna do? Fight every nigga at El Jefe?”
“Nahhh,” Cairo dragged out, pushing the smoke out his lungs. “I’ll be there. They’ll know when they see me.”
“I told you, you should’ve let his crazy ass sit just a little longer,” Dania fussed at Nate.
Nate fussed back. “The nigga is nuts. The time wouldn’t’ve made a difference. Let the man get his girl back.”
“Listen, I don’t have time for y’all little couple’s argument shit,” Cairo shared.
“Then take your big ass back to her room and argue with her,” Dania turned from Nate to him.
“Can’t,” he stated.
“Oh, nigga, you getting soft,” Dania huffed.
“Nah. I’m trying to show her some growth. I’m trying not to show my ass while she doing business. I come in blazing, she’s gonna pull back. This ain’t that timid girl I met. She got some skin in the game now. She knows how to tell a nigga no, now,” Cairo palmed his face. “That’s on me.”
“I’m so happy you know that. Whatever she had to go through without you is completely your fault,” Dania defended. “Now tell me your plan.”
“Can you let me talk to my brother?” Nate huffed.
“He can talk to both of us. You’ll keep him crazy, I’ll reel it back in,” Dania countered.
“I just want a name and address. That’s all I want. I got the rest,” Cairo stated. “And what she got going on with OG Fredo?”
He could hear Nate wince and Dania laugh. They were playing with him and he knew it by the next set of words.
“My bad, Dania fucking off,” Nate lied. “Go find your daughter and leave me alone.”
“You know what, you gon’ want some later and I’m going to fart and play sleep,” Dania spoke, moving away from the phone.
Nate continued. “You know Kamilla is KP’s daughter, she likes multiple streams of income. Ain’t shit there. Now this Armon nigga.”
“She was talking to a nigga named Armon? He wear suits and shit and slap bitches?” Cairo asked.
“Man, that nigga will never kill a fly let alone put his hands on K. She got killers all around her,” Nate stated. “But is the nigga trying to collect your pretty little thing and add her to his trove? Yeah.”
“I’ll add him to the morgue before he gets that far,” Cairo spoke.
“Ay man listen…you gotta chill. You just got home,” Nate said with haste.
“And I’m not going back but I’m also going to make it abundantly clear whatever she thought she was doing without me is over. Aight?”
“Aight,” Nate digressed. “Anyway, you saw Fahaad’s text? Ekho is free. You think you getting in at El Jefe?”
“I’ll have a better idea at the producer shit later. I know I caught a moldable artist for sure. Having Ekho is an added bonus.”
“By chance, you do a deep dive on yourself, yet?” Nate posed.
“Nah. And I don’t want to. I want to keep the grind in mind. They can write whatever think pieces about me they want but I’m still Azul, still from Husten.”
Nate laughed. “You a suburban nigga now. Wait ‘til your neighbors catch up. Anyway, enjoy the desert, don’t act like yo’ daddy, and come through for dinner when you decompress.”
“Aight got you,” Cairo agreed before hanging up.
After his smoke session, he grabbed his necessary things and headed down to the festival. As he strolled through like the lone wolf he was, a Waynesville accent called his name.
“Ay, C4!”
He stopped and looked over his shoulder, finding Trae Way MB, large afro, larger personality he tempered with a cool demeanor. “Ay, MB, what’s good?”
The men exchanged a handshake.
“Ain’t shit. Lucci told me if I bumped into you to holla. How you feelin’?” MB asked. “Got that prison off you yet?’
“I’m still waking up at the crack of dawn. This shit is wild,” Cairo stated with a chuckle. “How’s shit movin’? You in the studio?”
“Man, I’m around it. I’m happy you out though, after that Ekho project, you a hot commodity. I need some shit, man.”
Cairo nodded, glee flooded his core but he wouldn’t show it. “How long you out here?”
“Couple weeks. We a bi-coastal family now. Eden is styling some artists so I’m out here.”
The men exchanged numbers and Cairo added, “I’ll work on some shit and send it over.”
“Aight, don’t let Ekho take all the gold,” MB joked.
“Nigga, everything is gold,” Cairo jokingly flexed.
“Aight, talk that talk, nigga. Happy you home. I’ll hit you up,” MB assured before his team alerted him he had to get to his next event.
“Aight,” Cairo stated, moving to his designated spot— under the tent for Kamilla’s panel.
He took a seat in the back, watching how she smiled, and covered up her nervousness with a joke.
The strapless flowy set she wore looked like it was begging him to pull it off.
The marks he left on her the night before covered up.
And that finger bare of the ring he couldn’t get off.
Her assistant sat off to the side with the security he assumed El Jefe hired for her this weekend.
He knew Kamilla was hardheaded enough to attempt to navigate this craziness alone.
He’d navigated the worst of places and even this was too much for him.
After the Q&A, Cairo didn’t move from his spot, he watched the suited man with flowers in his hand approaching Kamilla. He watched her shoulders square. The security was on his feet and making his way to block whatever this shit was.
Cairo stood to his feet, tapping the guard in the gut. “I got this one.”
Smoothly he made his way over, trying to keep the scene he could cause to a minimum. With Kamilla behind him, he glared down at him, Cairo gritted his jaw, trying to keep a lid on his crazy.
“How you feelin’, nigga?” Cairo asked. “You gotta be Armon? You look like an Armon.”
“I am, who are you? Kamilla, who is this…hood nigga?” Armon asked, looking past Cairo’s massive frame to her.
“Mariposa, head to your next spot. I’ll be over there,” Cairo directed, without looking at her.
“Cairo, I got it,” Kamilla objected.
“Go to your next spot. I’ll meet you there,” Cairo repeated, his tone more frigid than before. He heard her huff and her team redirect her. Sensing she was gone, Cairo closed the space between them and gritted. “Let’s take a walk, nigga.”
“I’m not going nowhere with your ghetto ass,” Armon spoke, coaxing Cairo to grab him by the back of the neck and turn him to the exit.
“If you make a scene, I’ll turn this bitch inside out, you understand?” Cairo warned. “Walk, nigga.”
Armon and his hard-bottom shoes quickened to the exit. Cairo walked him down until they were in secluded spot. He’d only spotted this spot in case he wanted to taste his woman between sets. Releasing him with vigor, Cairo watched as Armon stumbled and tripped over himself.
“Niggas like you make me sick,” he huffed, watching Armon try to regain his footing. “Corny ass niggas trying to force yourself in spaces you can’t fit. You were never going to replace me. Where the fuck you come from?”
“I’m from L.O.,” Armon spoke, dusting off his suit and poking his chest out.
“You know who I am, nigga? Poking your chest out, get that shit poked. Take your ass the fuck on before I forget I’m rehabilitated and take you off the fuckin’ map. You come around her again, I will turn you into a garden of fuckin’ weeds. You understand?”
Armon took a hard gulp. “Y-yeah.”
Cairo tapped his cheek. “Fast learner. I like that. The moment you think about forgetting, I’ll remind you why they call me C4. Step, bitch.”
Armon pulled in a sharp inhale and chose his veneers instead of challenging a man who clearly would take penitentiary chances behind her. He spun on his heels and quickly scurried away.
“I’m going to have to break that nigga’s spine,” Cairo grumbled, squinting to see what car he got into before speeding off. “Where she find this nigga?”
Focused back on the task of adoring how she floated through a space that was in awe of her as much as he was, he moved to the creator’s luncheon. All events he was invited to but didn’t think it was shit he wanted to do. But again, whatever space Kamilla was in was the space he wanted to be in.
He took his assigned seat. Every table had a blend of executives, creators – be it content, graphic designers, photographers and whoever else. Cairo chose to be sociable and collect cards and contacts for Nate to build a team. He felt it in his gut things were about to take off and fast.