Chapter 1 #3
Mozzi didn’t discriminate when it came to women; he fucked with all shapes and sizes.
His only stipulation was Black women. He didn’t play in the snow, and although he’d fucked a couple of Latinas in his day, nothing compared to the beauty of a Black woman in his eyes. He loved everything about them.
Mozzi reached for the bottle of tequila on the table and brought it to his lips, watching Lin move on stage facing Nickel, like shit was a private show the whole time.
He wasn’t in love with her, but he was possessive and considered her part of his inner circle.
Seeing her giving another nigga attention, knowing he was in the building, triggered the disrespect.
“Yo bitch moving like the rent due.” Brim choked, exhaling a puff of smoke.
Mozzi’s phone buzzed against the table. It was Veronica, girlfriend number two, texting him to see if he was still coming through.
The plan was to watch Lin’s set, then slide out and spend the rest of the night with Roni anyway.
Lin probably knew this, and that’s why she was in there, showing her ass.
One thing was for certain: even if they weren’t talking to him, his top three kept up with each other to try and figure out how he was moving.
He quickly shot a text back to Roni and let her know he’d be there soon.
The music faded, and the crowd roared with applause for Lin. Taking another quick shot off the bottle of tequila, Mozzi set it on the table and brought himself to his feet. While she collected her money, he stood and watched Nickel approach her beside the stage.
“I’m heading out,” Mozzi announced.
“Which one of the sister wives you going to spend time with now?” Kong teased, bringing a Newport to his lips and sparking it.
“Gotta be Roni. She the only one he lay up with like that.” Brim cackled.
Mozzi flipped them both off.
“Worry about where you putting yo’ dick.” He aimed a finger at them and stepped away from the table after dapping them up.
Lin was in mid-conversation with Nickel when Mozzi bypassed them.
“So, you not even gon’ speak before you walk out?” she huffed, still in nothing but a G-string up her ass while scowling.
Mozzi paused, glancing at Nickel smugly standing there first before his gaze gamboled to her.
“Shit, you seemed preoccupied. I’m heading out. Got somewhere else to be.” Mozzi nodded over his shoulder.
“Oh, so that’s how it is? This is exactly the type of shit I be talking about, Mozzi.”
“Let that nigga go, Lin.” Nickel waved Mozzi off. “I can take you to get something to eat when you ready to go.”
Tittering, Mozzi pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know why he let this nigga get under his skin.
“Listen to this shortchange ass nigga,” he mocked, watching the amusement immediately be replaced with hatred in Nickel’s stare.
He was nowhere near Mozzi on any level. Yet, somehow, he had it in his head that he was.
His crew was only allowed to exist because a truce was called years ago between his uncle and Mozzi’s father.
If there was one nigga everybody in Ree Heights was trying to emulate, it would be the one who had taken care of him and never faltered in his life.
Mozzi might not have come from Audiemar’s nut sack, but nobody could ever tell him they weren’t father and son.
“Shortchange?” Nickel repeated with a scoff. “This coming from a nigga who mama so ran through he don’t even know who his real fucking pops is. Became a charity case for that nigga Audiemar—”
Mozzi ran up on him before he had a chance to finish his sentence.
Snatching him by the collar of his t-shirt, he pinned him against the stage and put his pistol to his chin.
It took a lot to get a reaction out of him, and the mention of his mama was damn sure a trigger.
Veda was as promiscuous as they come, and although Audiemar never made him feel like he wasn’t his son, Mozzi and his brothers felt some type of way when the next motherfucker tried to point that out.
“I been waiting a long time to watch niggas put you on a t-shirt. You want to keep fucking with me, Nahjir?” Mozzi called him by his government, soaking in the smugness vanishing off Nickel’s face.
“Mozzi, you’re fucking crazy! Let him go!” Lin broke into his subconscious as she bent over, trying to help free Nickel from his grasp.
Kong and Brim were already on their feet and heading in their direction when he released Nickel.
Before he backed up, he swung, rocking him with the butt of his gun, and sent him to the ground.
With a few additional kicks to his stomach, Mozzi left him curled up like a fetus before he tucked his pistol behind his back.
“Shit!” Lin hissed.
She hadn’t meant for it to go this far. Yet, somehow, in her twisted mind, knowing she had partially caused the beef between the two men inflated her ego a bit more.
Her oval shaped, leather brown eyes lingered on Mozzi’s for a moment.
Every now and then she had to remind him who the fuck she was too.
It was bad enough she had to share him with that bitch Roni and that stuck up ass Gillian.
Mozzi got credit for the simple fact that he didn’t lie to any of them about the other, and they all chose to keep fucking with him.
She learned a long time ago that she had to take the pieces of Mozzi that he was willing to give.
Complaining or nagging him about some shit was like poking a bear.
He’d been slightly off his rocker since he was a kid, and tonight was proof of that.
“Was that really fucking necessary?” she yelled.
Without a word, he locked eyes with Brim and Kong when they approached, both looking down at Nickel and the damage he’d done.
Pivoting on his heel, Mozzi quietly let himself out through the rear exit.
Lin caught that dead look in his eyes, so she knew she’d pay for it later.
It was part of the fun. She and Mozzi enjoyed pissing each other off because there was nothing like their make-up sex.
Him putting her through the mattress was his way of apologizing, and she forgave him every time.
Was it toxic? Abundantly so, but what was between them didn’t have to be explained to anybody.
The warm summer air hit Mozzi in the face when he stepped outside.
Ambling over to his black Ducati bike, he lifted one leg over the seat and hopped on.
Before placing his helmet over his head, he put in his AirPods in case he needed to make or take a call.
Lin had him fucked up. All he had to do was block her and stop talking to her for a minute, and she’d get some act right.
He wasn’t sweating that shit as he revved his engine and checked over his shoulder to make sure there was no traffic coming behind him.
When it came to Nickel, that nigga was becoming a thorn in his side. He’d told Audiemar time and again that he loved provoking him, and it was only going to go on for so long. He was asking to be knocked off, and Mozzi was going to take pleasure in being the one to do it.
While zipping through traffic, he felt that familiar buzzing in his jacket pocket and knew he had a call coming through. Tapping the pod in his ear, he sat up on his bike and stopped at a red light.
“I feel like you about to do some stupid shit, Mozzi. Don’t,” Kong’s voice boomed in his ear.
“I don’t need some big brother talk about a bigger picture or no shit like that, Kong.”
“Nah, what you need is to listen and hear me, little brother. You go down this path, and you opening up some shit that could blow back on everybody. Not just you. So, for once, think about the consequences before you jump off the porch.”
Kong caught that familiar red glint in his eyes on his way out the door.
Mozzi had a temper, and when activated, sometimes it took a while for him to simmer down.
He’d been bullied and had to make an example of niggas all his life.
Lin was trying to get him to show his ass, and he didn’t like backing down from a challenge.
Nickel wanted a reason to break the truce anyway.
Mozzi was more than willing to give him one.
Instead of verbally responding, he revved his engine and sped up to pop a wheelie.
“Later, bro.” Mozzi ended the call.
Kong knew better than to try and talk him out of some shit.
Fifteen minutes later, Mozzi arrived outside the run-down industrial strip on the edge of the city and parked on the corner.
Still positioned on his bike with the river flowing behind him, he observed the old brick buildings.
Half warehouses and half nightlife spillover, one side of the street housed different bars and lounges.
A few hole in the wall food places that stayed open to service those same patrons were scattered as well.
The textile factory on the opposite end was used by Nickel and his crew to stash weapons and run their product.
Right across from it was the Eclipse Lounge.
It was where most of their business took place.
Nobody asked questions in there, and people minded their fucking business.
The neon sign flickered above the club, while music bled through the cracked doors, and the parking lot on the side filled with people drunk and making bad decisions.