“Do you know him?”
“Yeah, that’s my brother. What’s up?” his tone was defensive and that caused her to frown. She wasn’t intimidated by the rugged thug glowering at her.
“Him and my nephew fought earlier. I want the situation resolved before it can escalate. I’d like for someone to speak to Mario and kindly ask him to leave my nephew alone.”
The man snorted, and Symphony’s face burned with anger.
“How do you figure it was Mario’s fault?”
“Because my nephew said it was,” her frown intensified.
“And you believe everything he says? Mario isn’t the type to go around bothering people. But if they’re the same age, they’re teenage boys. Nephew might want to toughen up,” he smirked making Symphony’s chest swell with anger.
“Oh, I can see the ignorance runs in the family.”
The cocky simper melted off the stranger’s face, and he flicked the tip of his nose as he glared at her. “Ignorant? You might want to watch your mouthy, shorty.”
“My name isn’t shorty it’sDr. Simmons. If that one little comment angered you, maybe Mason isn’t the only one that needs to toughen up. My nephew’s mother is battling with addiction, and the last thing he wants to hear at school is your brother talking about how his cousin serves my sister. It’s quite rude if you ask me. And I don’t think everyone should knowabout his cousin’s drug dealing ways,” it was her turn to smirk. “Tell your brother to stay away from Mason.”
Symphony pivoted and stormed to her car. With a frown on her face, she slammed the door and pushed the button to start the car. She was for sure going to need a drink or three.
Body tense with anger, Block walked to the front door and used his key to unlock it. Inside the house, the living room was empty, but he could hear the sounds of Rod Wave coming from the bedroom that Mario occupied when he stayed over. Mario was Block’s youngest brother. He was fourteen, and their father had been incarcerated for eleven years of Mario’s life. Block opened the door without knocking, and the girl caught in an explicit act jumped to her feet and stared at Block with wide eyes. She was fully clothed while Mario lay back on the bed.
When Mario saw his brother, he put his dick away and sat up slowly. Unlike his companion, he wasn’t panicking. Block was cool as hell, and Mario doubted he’d be mad at him.
“Get out.” Block’s tone was low but could still be heard over the sad ass nigga whining over a beat.
Marissa wasted no time scurrying past Block and leaving the bedroom. As Block stared at his brother, it dawned on Mario that maybe he was upset.
“Turn that shit off,” he demanded.
His brows dipped with confusion; Mario reached over and paused the music on his phone. The phone was connected to a blue tooth speaker. “Why you mad?” Mario inquired. It couldn’t be because he had a girl over. Block was the one that always made sure he had condoms, so he knew what was up.
“The fuck you doing at school telling muhfuckas your cousin sells drugs?” he stepped further into the room. “You think that’s smart?”
“I was just trying to get underneath Mason’s skin. Nobody cares if I know someone that sells drugs. I didn’t say his name.”
“It doesn’t matter. Running your mouth about things that don’t concern anybody at that school is a no no. Leave gossiping and telling everything to bitches. And leave that damn boy alone about his mama. Got his aunt outside rolling her neck and shit like she’s supposed to scare me. I don’t have time for the bullshit. Get your stuff together. Your mother gets back from Cabo today, and I’m dropping your ass off, so I can leave for Miami tomorrow.”
Block left the room, and Mario kissed his teeth. He hated when his brothers chastised him. His brothers Block, Brazil, and Lethal were his heroes. He also looked up to his cousin, Blak. They drove the flyest cars, fucked the baddest chicks, wore expensive jewelry, and owned all the best clothes and shoes. Their lives were literally a movie, and Mario soaked up everything they did. Brazil was a soccer player, and Lethal was a boxer. Block was only five years older than Brazil and four years older than Lethal, but once their father went away, he promised to look after them. That meant telling them every chance he got that they couldn’t sell drugs and to think of another way to get money.
He couldn’t tell Blak shit, so he followed in Block’s footsteps and sold heroin and opioids. Block was rich off selling drugs, but his brothers were getting legal money. Between the sports they played and endorsements, they were rich the legit way. They had offered to retire Block more than once, but he was going to leave the game on his own terms. He also didn’t need handouts from his brothers. He couldn’t stop them from buying him lavishbirthday or Christmas gifts, but he didn’t accept money from them.
In his bedroom, Block pulled a small duffel bag from the closet and began placing boxer briefs, tees, socks, and personal hygiene items inside. No matter where he went, he always hit the mall as soon as he touched down, but he was going to take some items with him. He was staying in Miami for three days. Brazil had a soccer game on Saturday, and his homie, Ja’Don was having a bachelor party Saturday night. It was down to the wire. Tech had one more year before he came home, and Block was working overtime to get things in order for his father’s arrival.
When Tech walked out of those gates, he would have a place to live, a car to drive, and cash. Block prayed he didn’t go back to the streets and between his three oldest sons, he wouldn’t have to unless he was just plain stupid. Before Tech went away, he bought his mother a house and paid both of his kids’ mothers’ rent for one year each. He also paid off their cars and left them with more than $100,000 each. Once the money ran out whether it was his brother, his sister, or his best friend giving money, his kids never went without. Block watched year after year as his father made shit happen from a prison cell. During his entire bid, he never asked the mothers of his sons to send him anything. He actually forbid that shit.
A lot of his old associates would look out for his kids too. Tech was a real one, and the hood had nothing but love and respect for him. Block was twenty-one when his father went away, but his brothers were seventeen, sixteen, and three. By the time his father went to prison, Block was already selling drugs and had heavy pockets. After pulling out the top drawer of the chest that was inside his closet Block contemplated which watch he wanted to take with him to Miami.
The thirty-two-year-old was great at selling drugs. He was the true definition of a hustler. Often, he felt that was his onlytalent. He didn’t rap or play sports. His brothers had been blessed with all the talent. Meanwhile, it seemed that he was made to hold down the block, hence his nickname. People told him if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to figure out what his thing was, but Block felt that he already had the answer. The goal was to retire from drug dealing and then chill for the rest of his days. As long as his house and cars were paid for, and he had a few pieces of art, some investments, and a few M’s saved, he’d be good.
When he was done packing, he told Mario to grab his things, and they walked out to the car. Seeing his brother pout made him think of Dr. Simmons. Her lil’ mouthy ass was bad. Shorty stood 5’7 with light brown skin and the sexiest lips. Her short pixie cut was fye too. In the shorts and short sleeved shirt she wore, he could see that her skin was decorated with various vibrant tattoos. He thought it was dope that she was a doctor despite the fact that she had him fucked up. Walking up in his yard, snaking her neck, and calling him and Mario ignorant would have gotten an ugly chick cursed the fuck out.
The thought of fucking her into submission made his manhood stiffen. He wondered if she could talk shit while dick was stuffed all up in her cervix. The thought of her making sexy faces while being dicked down made Block think of something else. “Keep them fast ass lil’ girls out my crib too. And you better be using those condoms I gave you. Mess around and get somebody pregnant, your moms is going to beat the shit out of you.”
“All she does lately is fuss,” Mario uttered. “She used to be cool. Now, she’s always mad and talking shit. As soon as dad comes home, I’m moving in with him.”
“I’m sure your mom would like that. You’ve been tweaking lately and need some guidance. I don’t have the time to keep you out of trouble. Babysitting yo’ ass won’t pay the bills.”
