3. Lil’ Bo Peep & Brickly #2
“How you need a wife in order to carry on the family business.”
I just stared at him blankly. I must have looked intimidating as fuck because he started sweating and stumbling over words and shit.
“I-I have a daughter, and I think she would be perfect for the arrangement,” he said.
“Nigga, you tryin’ to sell me a child bride or some shit?” I damn near jacked him up and beat the shit out of him. I didn’t know what kind of nigga he thought I was, but I knew my Mama knew better than that shit.
“Wha—no! Absolutely not! She’s of age. Hell, she’s thirty-one.
I actually think this could be beneficial for both of us.
I raised her right. She’ll cook, clean, and be obedient.
She’s a good girl, but if you’re not interested in that from her, she’ll look the other way while you do your own thing.
She’s weak, easily manipulated.” If I had any doubt that this nigga wasn’t shit, he confirmed it.
What kind of man sells his daughter to save his own ass, then encourages her potential husband to cheat on her before they even meet?
I wondered what kind of woman Ma would even pick out for me, looking around the house to see if there were any signs of life.
She had never been the type to play matchmaker, and she hated the only two women that I brought around.
When I say hated, I mean one got her teeth smacked out, and the other…
disappeared. Ma swore she didn’t have shit to do with that, but I wasn’t a fuckin’ dummy.
The sound of the door opening caught our attention, and for some reason I caught myself holding my breath.
I quickly remembered who the fuck I was, then exhaled spitefully.
“Here she comes now,” he said, pride all in his chest. I turned to the front door just as a blinding light hit me. At first glance, I thought it was an angel…
Then that door closed, and I realized that it was just the glare of the fuckin’ sunset.
She had soft brown skin and dark brown eyes that held a curious gaze.
She wasn’t short, maybe five-foot-eight, and on the thicker side, but that was never an issue for me.
The issue was the green tablecloth she had on as a dress.
I imagined she had a nice body under there, but she wasn’t even trying to let a nigga get a peek at the cleavage with her tank top underneath that covered up even the slightest idea of a titty.
She was pretty, beautiful even, but what she wasn’t was my type…
at all. I liked bad bitches. Hell, I owned a fuckin’ strip club.
What the fuck would I look like showing up with a Sunday school teacher on my arm?
“Who the fuck picked her?” I asked, unable to hide the confused look on my face as I surveyed her. Since I was six-foot-four and she had flats on, she still had to look up quite a bit to reach my eyes. Ma had some big ass babies because Kilo was my height and Pistol had a couple of inches on us.
“Uh, excuse me?” she asked, gasping like I had just dogged her out.
“Brick!” Ma snapped as she smacked the fuck out of me. I couldn’t do shit but stand there with wide eyes and an open mouth until the cartoon birds stopped circling around my head. In the meantime, she turned to her and started trying to right my wrongs.
“My apologies for my dumbass son. We met before, but I didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself. I’m Lady West,” she said, extending her hand.
“Lady W— I’m Destiny,” she said, but everything that came out of her mouth sounded like a question, and she looked like she was two seconds from turning around and leaving.
“Nice to meet you,” Ma said in a ridiculously fake tone, like she hadn’t just slapped me halfway to my ancestors. “This is my son, Brick. I would like to apologize on behalf of his mouth. I dropped him more than a few times as a baby.”
“N-Nice to meet you,” she stammered, inquisition still all in her voice.
“Likewise,” I mumbled.
“Daddy, what is this? And what did you mean ‘picked me?’” Her eyes darted from me, to Ma, then over to her parents.
“I thought I told you to buy something new… and get your hair done?” he barked, which made even me frown. What kind of parent said that to their kid? I mean Ma definitely would, but I was under the impression that fathers were supposed to be soft and kind to their daughters.
“I-um… Sorry?” she replied as she rocked on her heels and pulled at the bun she wore at the base of her neck.
Everything about her style was plain. The only jewelry she wore was a tiny pair of silver hoops.
My eyes kept drifting down to those fuckin’ ballet flats.
She didn’t even try with a lil’ kitten heel, or nothin’… just unsexy as hell.
“This is my daughter, Destiny,” he said looking between us eagerly like he expected me to drop down on one knee right then and there.
“Hi,” we said with a simultaneous awkward energy.
“Well, look at these two hitting it off!” Ma said, clapping her hands together. If looks could kill, that lady’s head would have been across the room.
“Mother… Can I talk to you in private?” I asked, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her down a side hallway.
“What’s wrong, son?” she asked, still wearing that same fake-ass smile.
“I’m not doin this shit!” I fussed. “I don’t know where the fuck you found Marry Poppins in there, but I’ll be damned. I have a reputation to maintain.”
“I gave you a choice, Brick. You sat around for the last ten and a half months playin’ with your dick instead of doin’ what the fuck I required. So, I took matters into my own hands.”
“Ma,” I said, cringing at her mentioning my dick.
Yes, it had been almost a year, but her walking in on me still gave me nightmares.
“I’m not marrying her. I’m not marrying anyone.
” Tired of her game, I put my foot down.
She had been bullying me for the last thirty years, and I was tired of the shit.
“You will,” she replied. “It’s too late for me to vet anyone else. She’s all you got. Unless…” A wicked smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Unless, what?” I asked, brow raised. At that point I was willing to be castrated to get out of her grasp.
“Unless you’re not only ready to forfeit your inheritance, but your brothers’ as well.”
“What?” My stomach lurched as I gave her a blank stare. I could live with losing everything, but I could never do that to my brothers, and she knew that.
“Nothing to say?” she asked. “I can just go in there, put a bullet between Coop’s eyes, and call this whole thing off.
Just say the word, because I would love nothing more than to put that self-righteous ball sack out of his misery.
” I stood there, glaring at her and wishing I could strangle the shit out of her.
“I’ll do it,” I choked out in agony.
“You what?” She cupped her hand to her ear.
“I’ll do it,” I gritted out again.
“Good to hear, because if you made me lose my deposit at Le Jardín, I was shooting your ass next.” I didn’t answer, just stood there glaring at her. “Oh, and son?”
“Yes?” I sucked my teeth.
“Ultimately, the choice is hers. At the end of the day, she has the fucking power, she can choose to walk away, granted it will cost her father, but she owes me nothing. I’d suggest you be nice and respectful, because if she leaves, you get to explain to your brothers why they need to start putting in applications at the nearest drive-thru.
” Once again, I ignored her, continuing to sulk in silence as she turned and led us back to the rest of the sad ass dinner party.
“E-Everything okay?” Coop asked, eyes darting between us.
“Everything is great,” Ma answered. “How about we go get a drink and leave these two to get to know each other better?”
The four of them shuffled out of the room in silence, and you could hear a ghost queef as we stood there awkwardly. I refused to break the silence because what did we have to talk about? I had no problem talking to women, but what was I supposed to talk to her square ass about? Bible verses?
“So,” she started, looking around awkwardly. “Brick… Is that like a nickname? What’s your real name?”
“Just Brick,” I huffed. I would marry her but wouldn’t be happy about it. Fuck this.
“No, like I know it's Brick… but what is it short for? Broderick?”
“Fuck no! Brick,” I spat, making her eyes widen.
“No need to curse… Brixton?” she asked. I mugged her hard as fuck for even suggesting that square ass shit.
“Brick,” I repeated. I didn’t necessarily think I had a temper, but one thing that would piss me off quick was having to repeat myself. I had done it three times and she was still asking the same shit.
“Brick-ly?”
“Nigga, what kinda shit is that? No! I said my name is Brick! B-R-I-C-K! That's it, that’s all! Don't ask me that shit again! If I start calling you Lil’ Bo Peep, you ain’t gon’ like that, are you?
” I might have slightly overreacted, but fuck.
A nigga was already overstimulated, and she just kept going.
“Oh,” she said as her lips remained in an O-shaped pout. That was when I first noticed that she could probably suck a watermelon through a straw with them muhfuckas. The thought made me mad again, because she didn’t even have a lil’ gloss on them pretty ass lips. Just basic as fuck.
It took me five whole minutes of her sitting there mean mugging for me to realize that she was giving me the silent treatment. I chuckled to myself and pulled my phone out to schedule an appointment with Mina for later.