Block mirrored his brother’s expression. “Nigga, I got chicken, ribs, crab legs, and shrimp. Since when don’t you likethe smell of fish?” Lethal could literally fry fish better than anyone Block knew.
“I don’t know, but that seafood don’t smell right. It’s making me sick.”
Throwing his head back, Block released a fit of laughter. “Who yo’ ass done got pregnant? Standing over here being all sensitive and shit talking ‘bout some the seafood don’t smell right. Let me find out.”
The situation was hilarious to Block, but Lethal stood staring at him blankly. Lowkey, he had been wondering why lately, certain smells that never bothered him before were making life hard as hell out of nowhere. Lethal loved steak but two days before, as he was cleaning the steak, so he could cook it, a whiff of the raw meat made him gag. To his knowledge, he didn’t have anyone pregnant, but his brother’s comment had scared the shit out of him.
“Hell nah. That’s not what that means.” Lethal’s tone was far from confident. The way his lips were slightly parted, and he was staring at his brother with fear in his eyes made the situation funnier.
“That’s exactly what it means my boy. I hope it’s a girl. I’m tired of looking after males.”
Block continued lifting containers of food out of the bag but just that fast, Lethal had lost his appetite. He was stressed. Too stressed. He always used condoms. Lethal didn’t have a girlfriend and within the past year, he’d had sex with at least fifteen women. When he was training, Lethal didn’t smoke, drink, eat sweets, or have sex. He followed an intense regimen that required focus and discipline. Six days a week, he was up at four am and in bed by 8 pm. Once the match was over, he could resume his normal activities. In the past month or so, he’d only had sex with Charmaine and Sherill. He’d used condoms with both of them, and Charmaine’s tubes were tied. She had fourkids and never hesitated to tell anyone that she’d never push out another baby.
Lethal refused to stress. He knew he didn’t have anyone pregnant. His appetite was still nonexistent, however, so he followed his brother to the living room empty handed. “You not eating?” Block inquired.
“I lost my appetite,” Lethal responded making Block laugh again. With a kiss of his teeth, Lethal glowered at his brother. “I’m glad it’s funny. Childish ass. Most days you’re like the Grinch that stole Christmas. No one can pay you to smile but today, you turn into tickle me Elmo and shit. Giggling ass nigga.”
Block’s laughter intensified as he stuck his middle finger up at his brother. “And it brings me great joy to be able to do something that I rarely do at your expense. Fuck nigga.”
With his elbows resting on his knees, Lethal leaned forward and rubbed his silky waves. Block’s prediction had him more stressed than he wanted to be. He was closer to thirty than he was to twenty. Money was something he didn’t have to worry about and though he was single, all of the women he’d entertained were cool. He didn’t want to create broken homes, but he’d never be with a woman just because she got pregnant. Out of all the women he’d slept with, none of them really seemed like bad candidates to have his child, but that wasn’t where his mental was at the moment.
Lethal had grown up with a father. Even when Tech went to prison, he called his sons weekly. He made sure they had everything they needed and whether on the phone or in person, he always dropped jewels on them and gave them game in every conversation. Tech was the reason that Lethal had so much discipline and structure. Even though he’d been a drug dealer, Tech was smart. He had a routine, and he took life seriously. He told his sons he didn’t give a shit what their profession was.Without discipline, an intense work ethic, and the determination to succeed, they wouldn’t excel.
Lethal had a great example, and he knew what it took to be a good father, but he wasn’t ready for all that. His head lifted, and he watched his brother shovel fried rice into his mouth. “Maybe I can eat if I smoke,” he mumbled.
Lethal didn’t smoke often. He didn’t have any fights coming up immediately. Once he left Miami, he planned to rest for a week or so and then get back to it. He would train for about six weeks. By then, anything that he smoked would be out of his system. Of course, he could be randomly asked to take a drug test with no kind of notice, but that hadn’t happened yet. He didn’t even have to take a test before each fight. He’d found that the sport of boxing was a little more lenient than other sports when it came to drug testing. At least that had been his experience.
“What theme baby shower you want?”
“You really starting to piss me off.”
Block shrugged passively. “I’m trying to help you.”
Lethal didn’t smoke enough to have weed in his possession but Block did. Standing to his feet, Lethal entered the bedroom that Block was occupying and searched for his weed stash. The pricy Airbnb was technically no smoking, but Block had paid a pretty penny for three nights in the condo. He’d stayed in the same exact unit before and knew that as long as he left the place clean and smoked out on the balcony, so the condo wouldn’t smell like weed and no neighbors complained, the owner didn’t trip about him smoking.
During his last stay, Block had seen an NFL player in the elevator and a rapper in the lobby. His ‘type’ was common in the building, so no one really tripped too much when he ambled into the lobby smelling like a pound of skunk. When Lethal was done rolling the blunt, he lit it causing Block to frown.
“You went in my shit without asking permission, rolled a blunt, and now you’re about to smoke in my face.” He shook his head at his brother’s audacity. “In a no smoking unit.”
“You act like you can’t hit the blunt.”
“I don’t smoke while I’m eating,” Block’s glower deepened. “That shit tastes nasty as hell when I’m eating.”
Lethal’s shoulders hiked into a passive shrug. “I probably won’t smoke the whole thing anyway. I’ll put it out when I’m done, and you can smoke the rest. I just want an appetite.”
Block didn’t respond. He finished his food while his brother smoked out on the balcony. By the time Block was done eating, Lethal’s eyes were damn near closed, and he had put the blunt out. Block downed a bottle of water, picked the blunt up from the ashtray, and walked out onto the balcony. The weed had done its’ job because he heard the microwave humming as Lethal warmed up some of the food that was left in the kitchen.
Drowning out the sounds of the microwave, Block sucked smoke into his lungs as he stared out at the city. He loved the view and would never grow tired of looking at it. One thing Block knew for certain was that there were plenty of drug dealers in the world. But not all of them lived like him. Not everyone excelled in the art of hustling. He was blessed beyond measure, and he didn’t take it for granted. Block had spent so much time in go mode that he hadn’t slowed down to think about the fact that in the next year, his father would be home.
Block was looking forward to being relieved of his duties as the responsible one. The one to go to when you had a problem or when you needed anything from money to emotional support. Over the years, being everything to everybody had taken its’ toll on Block. He was ready to be carefree and only worried about himself. He wanted the next twelve months to go by smoothly and as uneventful as possible. As Block’s body loosened from thehigh the weed brought, he was still sane enough to know that was wishful thinking.
CHAPTER FOUR
The strobe lightspulsed in the club as Blak’s orbs scanned his surroundings. A part of making things look official with his bride to be was to be seen out in public together. Naomi liked the club scene and though Blak didn’t frequent the club as much as he did in his younger days, he would still pop out every now and then. Naomi was in his section rapping along with all of the popular songs that were playing while twerking.
Blak had been feeling okay until he spotted Averi with her friends. It had been five days since he had sex with Averi and told her that he was getting married. Seeing her throwing her ass in a circle and laughing with her friends had him realizing that he missed her snug walls. Technically, she owed him one last sex session. Blak lifted the bottle of champagne that he was holding by the neck and took a sip as he and Averi locked eyes. He had been staring for the past three or four minutes, and she had just noticed his presence in the club.
With the worst timing in the world, Naomi stood in front of him and attempted to grip his chin, but he moved his face out of her reach with a frown. All he’d wanted was to get Averi’s attention, and Naomi had come along and messed that up. Hewas irritated, but Naomi’s slightly parted lips brought him back to his senses.
