Chapter 4 #2
In all honesty, he was surprised somebody who looked as good as her had a son that old.
The way her voice was low and sultry was sexy as hell when she threatened him, making his dick hard.
Nobody talked to Moose like that. Most people were too scared to dare even raise their voice at him, let alone show up at his place of business on this type of time.
“You the only one here right now on this bullshit!” Moose rebutted, throwing his hand at her.
She was close to getting knocked the fuck out. When it came to conflict, he’d just let one off in a nigga. Going back and forth took too much energy. He also didn’t like being taken out of the charming element he had developed for himself.
“You’re smarter than you look.” Inari skimmed his thick, chiseled frame and spotted the print in his loose fit jean shorts. “If you want to stay in business, I’d get my shit together and make sure your paperwork is in order.”
“Lil homie came in and said he was trying to solidify his bond with his team. I felt that. I asked him what he wanted, and he looked me dead in my eye and said he wanted the name of the only person in the world who ever loved him unconditionally. His mama.” Moose’s tone lowered.
It was no longer threatening but still very stern with every word.
“You don’t hear a lot of that no more, and I knew it was something he wouldn’t regret.
I’m a tattoo artist. That’s what I’m here for.
Tatts can be removed now, but for me, ink is permanent.
So, you have to be intentional with everything you put on your flesh.
” An intense blaze of passion burned through his eyes, and Inari found herself hanging onto every word.
She searched his smoldering eyes, trying to find some kind of flaw. It was what she did, always looking for the bad in some shit because it was what she was used to. Moose didn’t mince words. She could tell that right off the bat.
“Dane, let’s go.” Although she was speaking to her son, her eyes never left Moose’s when she eased away from him.
“Sorry about all this, Moose,” her son mumbled.
“What you apologizing for?” Inari’s face balled up in contempt.
“’Cause you being extra right now, Ma. Acting like I’m just some little kid or something. I do everything you tell me. One time, I step out of the box, and you act like a nigga ’bout to head up the river for five to ten. I’m not him!” Dane yelled, startling her.
“What are you talking about?” Inari whispered.
“My pops. Tell me that ain’t the first thing you thought about when you seen this?” He pointed to the tattoo on his neck. “That I’m just like Danilo, right?”
“That’s not what—”
“Really? Because, from my math, you got pregnant with me at fifteen. So what if I got a tattoo? I make good grades, I’m on the basketball team, and I want to do something with my life. I ain’t nothing like that nigga, but sometimes I think you look at me and see that.”
“Dane.” Inari choked and took a breath.
Eyes misting, she could feel Moose’s eyes all over her. She hated that her son chose now to voice his faults with her in front of a stranger.
“You made your point. Can we leave now?” He reached for the passenger door.
More embarrassed than anything, Inari marched around the front of her car to her driver’s door.
Moose remained on the curb, eyes on her and Dane as she started her car and pulled off.
She’d just blown him with that whole scene, but he made a mental note to be more diligent when it came to checking for consent.
The last thing he wanted to do was to have his shop shut down behind some legal technicalities.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blackmoor,” Natalie, the most recent nanny to Kong Blackmoor’s two children, said with empathy, yet weariness clouding her eyes.
Her hair was wet because she had to rinse out the oatmeal his seven-year-old son, Kyro, threw at her. He’d given her a t-shirt to change into because she was covered in it.
“I just can’t do this anymore. I know you’ve been counting on me to pull double duty around here with cooking and taking care of the kids, but… I just can’t. Do you know I go home and kill almost an entire bottle of wine every single night now? I used to barely be able to get through a glass.”
With his hands in the pockets of his Nike sweats, he listened and nodded.
Natalie was the fourth nanny they’d had this year, and it was only June.
Kara was a spoiled crybaby, and Kyro was a little Tasmanian Devil.
Wherever he went, destruction followed. Kong couldn’t blame anyone for leaving, and he paid them all handsomely for their services.
His children were just too much to handle, and he couldn’t be present to wrangle them in all the time.
“No, it’s fine. Thank you for your time and your service. I’ll forward you your last payment.”
Natalie paused with the front door to his family home open and looked Kong over.
He was a very somber, brooding man. There was something so sad behind his eyes that made her take this job, but his kids were terrors.
She thought she would be able to hang, given she came from a big, chaotic family herself, but that wasn’t the case.
“I appreciate that. Good luck!” She rushed out, and Kong stepped forward to close the door behind her.
“And another one bites the dust.” Mozzi chuckled, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal in hand like he was five.
He could eat it any time of day, and Kong didn’t understand it. They’d eaten so much of that shit growing up, he thought for sure it would be burnt out on him too. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he bowed his head.
“The fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Submit another request to the agency.” Mozzi brought a spoonful of Cocoa Puffs to his mouth.
“This is ridiculous,” Kong muttered.
“Look, if you need me to watch ’em, you know I got you. Just give me some kind of warning. I’ll take they asses to the park and wear ’em the fuck out. Pull Moose in too. At least until you get somebody.” Mozzi shrugged.
“At this point, it’s not about finding somebody. It’s about if they can thug it out around this muhfucka.”
Kong strolled past his brother to the home office beyond the entry and past the overly decorated formal living room.
All the French style furniture in there was to be looked at and not touched.
Nobody had so much as gotten comfortable in that room since their mom, Jane, died over five years ago.
Kong pushed the door open to the room he spent the most time in.
His dark pine desk extended from the built-in bookshelves facing the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the front of the estate.
On the opposite wall, a series of monitors were aligned, giving a visual of every inch of their grounds.
“You want me to send Roni over? She can cook.” Mozzi strolled over to the corner near the windows and peered out at the grounds.
Kong dropped into his chair and cracked his laptop open.
Sad part was, the agency website was already up.
Sighing, he updated his file and hit submit but also scrolled through one of those on demand websites somebody had told him about to see if he could find someone.
It was the weekend, so the agency probably wouldn’t get back to him until next week.
“Nah. I’ll figure something out.” Kong shook his head and squinted at a new resume that popped up on his screen.
He was able to set up virtual and in person interviews, all with the click of his mouse.
After locking in with three different candidates, he closed the window and reached for the blunt in the ashtray on his desk.
Mozzi finished his cereal and tipped the bowl to his mouth to swallow the almond milk.
“What’d you do last night?” Kong took a pull off the blunt and studied his brother.
“Minded my fucking business.”
“I know you was on some bullshit.”
“That bullshit is what I need to hear about.” Audiemar’s gruff voice sounded off from the doorway, causing both sons to look his way.
Although in his early sixties, their father took care of himself.
He had a stylist and personal shopper who kept him in the latest fashion.
In black slacks and a silk maroon shirt, he strolled inside with his hands in his pockets and his head slightly bowed.
Mozzi leaned on the edge of Kong’s desk near him and passed him the blunt.
“I know I shouldn’t have popped off like I did on Nickel, but that nigga had it coming.”
“Did he? Or were you looking for a reason to go against a truce that’s been in place for a long time?” Audiemar queried.
“That nigga slime. So is his crew. I clocked their little operation. The truck pulled out around one-fifteen. There was a car with two hitters and two young bitches that trailed them.”
“So, you are the reason Riddle’s entire shipment was left on Dunbar Avenue,” Audiemar concluded. “On top of Nickel already feeling a way about what happened last night at Luxe.”
“Am I?” Mozzi pushed himself off the desk, a deep scowl embedded in his face.
“How many times have I told you to tune that shit out, Moses?” Audiemar tested him, brows cinched together. “You and your fucking impulsiveness!”
Mozzi always knew it was serious when he called him by his government name.
“Tuning shit out don’t work on everybody! Not niggas like Nickel. He thinks that truce makes him untouchable!”
“It fucking does!” Audiemar barked, removing his hands from his pockets. “What part of truce do you not understand? Now, I have to sit down and have a talk about this shit and see if we can rectify it.”