20. Rico
Rico
I wipe my face hard for the second time in five minutes. This was not supposed to happen.
For months I’d been monitoring the transition of power on this continent for Mekhi Young and The Collective, his family’s organization.
Most of the major players in the drug trade were stumped when he announced his organization would cease operations.
For decades, he, his father, and his Colombian grandfather have evaded the laws and kept an iron grip on the west coast of the United States.
If you didn’t know him personally, you’d think the decision came out of nowhere.
No. Spending thirty minutes with Mekhi Young will let you know that he doesn’t give a fuck about anything but his family; more specifically, the women in his family.
One would think his abysmal relationship with his mother would skew that, but oh no.
Mekhi Young would kill and die for his wife, his children, his cousin and Number Two, YT, and his sister, Sabrina.
Set’s Sabrina.
Set, who ironically after Sabrina ran from him the first time, was taken under Mekhi’s wing without her knowing and was being groomed to handle that portion of the Young empire. Even Mekhi knew the love birds would eventually find their way back to one another.
And they did. Right before he was shot and put in a coma.
It’s not hard to connect the dots then. The nigga survived, of course, and with Reem and Ty-Ty, could have reigned with an iron fist over the west coast, especially with Turk and Nutty’s club connections.
It would have been the perfect play. Set, his feelings about dealing the poison that fucked up his mother aside, would have never turned Mekhi down when he passed the torch, just like Mekhi would have never thought to force Set to get out.
That call had to have come from a woman.
Sabrina, if I had to guess. She was pregnant when he got shot, and everyone was scared she’d miscarry like she did before.
She probably told Mekhi and YT she needed him out the game, like that would take the target off his back and not just shrink it.
YT, having a borderline irrational need to please her little cousin, backed her up, and Mekhi always yields to her.
So drugs are out. And since I, unfortunately, have made a name for myself in destabilizing and transitioning bodies of power, now I’m wrapped up as a liaison in this shit.
Mekhi Young’s Colombian cousins aren’t having it. Most of the rebel faction of his family has been taken care of, but there's some remaining in Chetumal, a Mexican city a few hours away from where we are now.
I wouldn’t give a fuck if Mekhi was coming, or even YT. But nah. This nigga keeping it in the fucking family. My niggas are on the way to the rendezvous, and then we heading over together.
“It’s really only three of my cousins. I don’t even think they got guards, if they hiding out in fuckin’ Chetumal. I figured with you and your cousins, my cousins, and Foe Dub, it should be straight.”
I nod, exiting out of the plane manifest Mekhi forwarded over last night. Peanut, Set, Turk, Shad, and Reem are on their way here, along with YT and her brothers Prince and Stone. Mekhi and YT’s other brother YC are coming in from Northupton after they land.
“Yeah. I got a contact in the city that I just hit, so I should have eyes on them in a couple hours max. I’ll have a plan worked out by the time you’re here.”
“Bet. This the home fucking stretch,” he sighs into the receiver.
“You almost done. How does it feel?”
“Like a relief,” Mekhi chuckles. “I never gave a fuck about this shit, and I was always planning on getting out. Shit worked out in my favor, even if I gotta exterminate some muthafuckas who ain’t like half of me anyway.
How you feel about retirement? You still ain’t took care of who sliced you up? ”
“Why you say that?”
“‘Cause,” he says, his grin evident in his tone, “only a woman could get close enough to a nigga like you to do that type of damage. And if she's anything like my Juanita, you either kill her or wife her. The way you ain’t all excited you finna be reunited with your punk ass homeboys, you fasho ain’t made a decision yet.”
“Please, my nigga, when all this is over, lose my number.”
I hang up as he cackles loudly in my ear. Muthafucka think ‘cause he’s over six and a half feet he can punk everyone.
Grabbing my other phone, I hit up the group chat with my cousins and put them on game. Reno and NiNi have been itching for some action since I left them here, so I know they’ll be ready.
The resort just finished renovations the week before, so it wasn’t opened to the public yet, thankfully. All that’s left to take care of is… Mars.
And Snow.
“I’ll worry about that shit later,” I whisper to no one in particular as I power down my computer. Fredo’s been notably absent; maybe he’s off bothering his baby mama. Or maybe he’s not showing up, telling me I’m in the wrong, because I’m not.
Maybe Snow is supposed to be in my bed, naked as the day she was born, drooling on one of my pillows.
I’ve been fucking her at least once a day since I came back from Colombia a little over a month ago.
I kind of figured once I broke my abstinence, I would go a little crazy, but I truly can’t get enough of her.
All we do is fight and fuck. It’s like we both get off on saying the most fucked up shit we can think of, just to lose ourselves in each other for hours on end.
My family knows. It’s been funny watching Snow explain all the hickies on her neck when Mars asks about them. Miele is ecstatic, asking when she can start buying baby clothes in her monthly hauls.
I wish I can say I feel lighter or happier. With each passing day, each time I implant myself deeper and deeper inside of her, apprehension grows inside of me. This shit is temporary. Snow being here is temporary.
I’ve stopped answering Haze and Turk, and cut off the service on Snow’s devices. Mars takes up so much of her time, so now I make her sleep in the bed with me, as well as keep her in my office while he’s doing schoolwork.
It’s worse than when I was a young nigga. Back then, I had to be on my P’s and Q’s. I was into too much, so I had to keep my distance to keep her to myself.
It’s not the case in Belize. Here, on my own turf, what I say goes. I can fully indulge in everything she makes me feel, and I’ve been doing it unapologetically.
How the fuck am I supposed to act around my bros? Only Turk and Shad know she’s here, and they’re still under the impression I don’t fuck with her.
How can I begin to explain some shit I haven’t even put much thought into? It’s been all actions behind Snow these past few weeks, no thoughts.
Only feeling her.
I’m bricked up as I push my pajamas to the floor and climb back in the bed. Snow scoots all the way into me, settling in as I wrap my arms around her.
“Everything okay?” she asks, her voice slurred from sleep.
I wanna tell her yes, and to go back to sleep. Better yet, I wanna fuck her back to sleep, but of course, after being gone, this nigga Fredo shows up to point me in the best direction.
Tell the truth.
The fact of the matter is, my niggas are coming. Snow’s been clean for almost a year, so if she wanted to, she could go back home with them. She’ll have the support she needs this go around, from the guys and the public in general. My job is done.
This shit hasn’t been about what I was asked to do for a long time. And right now, my need to know what’s going on in her head is way bigger than my pride.
“Peanut ‘nem gon’ be here in a few hours.”
I roll my eyes in the dark as Snow pulls away from me to turn on the lamp on her side of the bed. The covers are pooled at her waist, so I see those unnaturally perky titties front and center as she sits up and bucks her eyes at me.
“What?”
I sit up, too, and reach to grab a plait before I remember I cut my hair last week, and drop my hand to my lap.
“That shit I had to handle in Colombia is now in Mexico, so they coming, with Brina’s peoples. They’ll be here later.” I don’t tell her Set’s coming, because I wanna see how she handles it in real time. Sober Wyn could still like that nigga, and then I’d have to break my promise and murk his ass.
“Are you gonna tell them about Mars?” she asks, twisting her fingers in the blankets.
“Should I?”
“Duh, nigga! You should have said something years ago! But no… if Ty’s not coming, then they shouldn’t know. You gotta tell him first.”
“Fasho,” I nod. “But what about you?”
Snow meets my gaze again, bending her brows. “What about me?”
“They gon’ ask why you here.” I mash my lips together, keeping my eyes locked on her. “I wanna tell them about us.”
Snow folds her arms, pushing her breasts out more as a smirk plays on her lips. “Us?”
Here she go.
“Yes, Snow,” I sit up straighter, placing a pillow over my dick. “Us.”
“What about us is there to tell, Richard?”
I blink at her, but she keeps the straightest face she can muster.
“Well I’m sure you don’t want me to compare notes with Set on how deep I can dig you out, so I’ll just settle on telling the homies that you’re my woman.”
“Your woman?” she shrieks, fisting her hands on either side of her ribs.
“Is ‘my bitch’ better?”
“Rico,” she chuckles mirthlessly, “I am not your woman, your girl, or your bitch. And I’m sure I can compare notes on your ho ass with Porscha, since Tiny’s dead.”
My lips spread as I lick my bottom lip. “You sure about that?”
Before she can answer, I’m on her ass. One hand has both of her wrists pinned to the foot of my bed. Her long legs wrap around me automatically as my other hand lines up my dick at her entrance.
“If you not my bitch, then why my pussy get so wet for me, huh?” I rub the underside of my dick up and down her slit, letting my piercing catch on her clitoral hood twice.
“I ain’t even did shit, and you gushing, bae. You was dreaming about me, huh?”
Snow hooks her ankles on my back and lifts, slotting just my head inside her walls, but I hold still, my core muscles keeping me in the air.