13. Ivo #2
“Thanks, Ma. From the way she talks about it, she loves it. It’s perfect for her, especially now with her daughter here. She’ll more than likely have shared custody soon, and with the baby coming?—”
“Sounds like the future is going to be pretty exciting. I’m looking forward to becoming a grandmother again.”
“Soon as we can push past all the drama.”
“I have a feeling things will work out how they’re supposed to.” She smiled and reached up to stroke my cheek. “I’m going to go in and mingle. I came out here to let you know that Staten was looking for you. He’s summoned all of the lieutenants to the billiard room.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I jumped to my feet and moved to enter the house.
A couple of minutes later, I pushed the door open to my pops’ favorite room of the house.
There was memorabilia from Black Wall Street, early edition newspapers that reported on black athletes, and other sports flags and whatnot arranged along the walls.
A pool table was centered in the room, and about ten feet from that was a seating area and bar with a large TV mounted to the wall.
Staten had gathered everyone, including Brick, and they stood around with glasses of whiskey and cigars in hand. When I stepped inside, my brother bobbed his head.
“Close the door,” he instructed.
I could tell by all their expressions that they were anxious to hear what this was about.
Brick and I were already aware. So while I went to pour myself a glass, he leaned against the pool table near the corner pocket, smoking a fat ass blunt and facing Staten.
Both of my brothers were debonair in their black suits.
Brick rocked an orange silk shirt and pocket square while Staten held it down in a hunter green.
Each of them had the M medallion resting against their chests too.
“I’m sure that all of you are wondering why I gathered us here.
” Staten gripped his whiskey in one hand and peered into the glass.
“Since I’ve been home, a lot has been put into perspective for me.
Family. Business. Separate, but they tie together.
That’s what all this is about.” He waved his glass in front of him to emphasize his point.
“Legacy. Longevity. All the things that my father instilled in not only me, but my brothers. I’m coming to you with a new business plan.
” Staten brought the glass to his lips and took a sip.
“We’ve all made enough money to last us a few lifetimes.
My next seven generations are straight as far as I can see.
We all have families, other people that we can invest in.
Legitimate ways to make money. I want to change our entire market. ”
“What you talking about?” Milan, our northern syndicate boss, queried.
“I’m talking about flipping the war in this country.
Back in the day, they dropped the guns and drugs in our hoods, giving us all the tools to kill ourselves.
We made our money off this shit. Destroying our own community.
The Mareks have established many places to provide healthcare, utility, and rental assistance, as well as shelter, among other things.
We are rebuilding. I’m asking that the rest of you figure out a way to come with us. ”
“What does that mean, Staten?” Casten spoke up.
“It means that we’ve made our money by poisoning and getting rid of our own.
So let’s do this . . . we move our businesses into the suburban areas.
Wall Street, the college campuses, those areas where they don’t nickel and dime.
We start flooding their streets with the product and still get money while building our other legitimate establishments,” my brother concluded.
There was a stir in the room. I could see the questions bouncing through all their heads while muttering and peering around at one another. Staten didn’t chime in. Instead, he grabbed the blunt when Brick passed it to him and studied it before bringing it to his lips.
“Do you have a plan for all this? Or is this something you decided on a whim? You have projections for the numbers?” Casten queried.
“I can get that to you. We currently have markets in these areas, but I’m talking about increasing.
A much larger scale, in fact. We won’t have to have niggas in the trap or on the blocks.
The shit is getting old anyway, and more snitches are being bred than real muhfuckas.
Our organizations do very well separately, so I’m not asking anyone to jump on my bandwagon if they don’t see the vision.
I just want to make sure you all are aware of what’s next for the Marek family,” Staten expressed.
“How long do we have to think about this?” Fuentes questioned.
“Take as long as you need. We’ve already started moving things in that direction.
Brick will be taking over marketing and the role that Haco used to play.
So if any of you need anything that usually went through him, you now deal with Brick.
” Staten gripped his glass and motioned to our brother before bringing his drink to his lips for a taste.
“Enjoy the rest of the party.” With those last words, my brother exited, leaving me and Brick alone with the other four men.
“Any other questions?” Brick checked with them, lifting himself off the pool table and facing everyone.
“We’re good here, Brick. Congratulations on your promotion,” Fuentes declared.
“No doubt.” Brick nodded while they began to clear the room.
Once everyone was gone, I rested my hands against the pool table and bowed my head.
I was proud of Staten and the decision he’d made.
We were getting older, and the game was damn sure changing.
When he brought all this to me and Brick, it didn’t take much convincing.
Our family was growing, and we had gained enough over the years to keep us fed into the next century if we played our cards right.
“How you think that went?” I asked, lifting my eyes.
“Shit, cool.” Brick shrugged.“What about you? How’s Emerald?”
“Pregnant,” I replied, standing upright and fishing my cell from my pocket.
Brick spat his drink out and started to cough. Pounding his fist against his chest, he cleared his throat and tried to shake that shit off.
“Already? I know she went in for the implantation and everything.”
“Yeah. She got implanted alright. The natural fucking way.” I tapped away at my phone screen as I shot her a quick message, checking on them.
I hadn’t planned on sticking around this party too long to begin with.
I knew Staten wanted to address everyone, and he made it clear we all needed to be present.
Now I wasn’t in the mood for this shit. All I wanted to do was go lay up with Emerald while Jury talked my ear off.
The last two nights with them had a nigga looking at this family shit with a whole new perspective.
It was different when you added a child to the mix, and seeing Emerald as a mother was some shit I couldn’t get over.
Watching her with Jury let me know she already had that nurturing shit down.
“Get the fuck out of here!”
“No lie, bro. She has an official appointment with her doctor next week to find out exactly how far along she is. Jordan lost her shit in that exam room.”
“Wait, Jordan fucking knows!” Brick spat.
“She was right there when the doctor came in and told us,” I confessed.
“Whew,” Brick whistled, shaking his head.
“Shit turned into some Jerry Springer shit right there. I had to tear them off each other.”
“Damn. Who won?” Brick teased.
“Fuck out of here,” I tittered before sending Emerald a message to ask her if she needed anything before I headed her way.
The last two days she’d been nauseous, and it was like she was finally starting to recognize all the symptoms that she’d been ignoring.
“C’mon, bro. I mean, I know Jordan ain’t no punk, and Emerald all petite and shit, but I never doubted she had them hands.”
“Nigga, shut up. I’m about to head out.”
“You ’bout to go cake up and shit,” he called me out.
“What these chicks be saying . . . and is,” I jested.
Emerald typed a simple response. You. It was all I needed.
“Soft ass!” Brick yelled after me.
I’d gone to the house to pack a bag to stay with Emerald for a couple of days.
Once shit got settled with Jordan and she moved out, we could move back into my shit.
Right now, I let her have it because I didn’t want to stir up anything else between us.
Emerald’s spot was closer to work anyway, so it was a no brainer that I would spend a lot of time there.
When I arrived, I parked on the curb outside her spot and pushed the door open to my car.
It was a cool night, causing a lot of the leaves on the ground to rustle around me when I planted my feet on the damp ground.
It had rained a little on the way over, and the storm clouds were thick above me.
There was some shit in the air I couldn’t put my finger on, and when I slammed the car door shut, a set of bright ass headlights nearly blinded me.
“The fuck!” I raised a hand to shield my eyes so I could see the car.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
The searing hot pain in my shoulder sent me right into the side of my car.
Dropping the duffel bag I gripped in my hand, I immediately went behind my back for my Glock.
I lifted my arm and immediately busted back in that direction.
The car yanked around me and sped off. The impact left my back crashing against the side door and squinting into the darkness after the familiar looking vehicle.
I just knew my eyes were fucking lying to me when I read the license plate.