“Don’t talk about him like that, Makari. He’s your father.”
Turning I stepped into her face.
“That nigga isn’t my father!” I yelled, shutting her mouth up immediately. “That nigga doesn’t care about me, Ma, and I’m ok with that. If you wanna run up behind him, do you, but keep me outta it! Don’t bring him around me, do you understand?!”
Her eyes switched over to the ground as she breathed heavily.
“I just don’t understand why you won’t try. Why are you so angry?”
“Because you got me messed up in all this! A married man, Mama. The best you could do was make me with a married man?!”
I was the illegitimate son because my mother wasn’t his wife but a side chick. Orlando was married to Kelechi’s mother and had been for the past forty years. She allowed him to have his fun, so she didn’t even trip when she found out he was with my mama. What they didn’t bargain on was me coming. My mother expected my father to demand she have a termination, but, surprise, surprise, he didn’t. And that should have been the first red flag, because it was clear he had plans for me sincehe allowed her to birth me even though it was outside of The Society’s principles.
My father ran in this criminal underworld known as The Society. He wasn’t the head man in charge, but he was up there, and outside children were never allowed.
Legacies were to be passed down from father to son, and that was only allowed through marriage—nothing else.
So, I was an anomaly in this mess.
My mother may not have been his wife, but she was privy to who The Society was and all their rules, yet she still chose to let a married nigga help make me, and now I was paying for it.
I couldn’t and didn’t have a life outside of Orlando and Kelechi Sanchez. My father controlled everything concerning me, right down to where I lived and who I married. All this, my mother knew before I was even conceived, and she still did it.
There was no reason for her to call him over to her crib. Shot or not, I wasn’t a fucking kid who needed his daddy…anymore—especially one that never, ever saw me anyway.
My mother stood there, staring into space, and nibbled on her bottom lip, something she did when she was stressed or worried about something. I knew then that I was pushing her into her head where she would overthink, and that wasn’t my intention.
Sighing, I thanked my mama for helping me with my arm, kissed her face, and jumped in my car, immediately speeding away.
When I pulled up at my condo, I sat still in my car, my mind going back to that moment I thought Orlando was looking for me. As if he really would.
I shook my head and made my way inside with thoughts of just going to sleep, but of course, it wouldn’t be that simple. I sighed heavily when I stepped inside to see Ocean sitting in my living room.
God, could you just kill me now instead of making me go through all this!
Ocean was up on her feet and rushing over to me before I could finish kicking my Timbs off.
“Oh my god! I heard you were shot!” she screeched, hurting my ears more than this bullet hole was burning my arm.
I frowned at her words, wondering how the hell she found out I’d been shot when I didn’t tell her nor was she at the club with us. I sucked my teeth when I realized she was still in contact with Hell.
Why? Maybe because she was once with him until one day our father said he found someone else for my brother to marry.
Kelechi married his wife, Ella, who was a daughter of someone else in The Society, and that put an end to whatever they had going on.
Then two months later, he demanded that I marry Ocean!
Although Ocean was a daughter of a family head and had the right to marry any one of the first sons—which she was hoping would have been Hell since they had history—baby girl was seen as damaged goods because my brother wasn’t the only one she’d been messing with.
Shorty had gone through most of the heads’ first-born sons, if not all, and I had the pleasure of making her my wife.
Daughters and wives were seen as commodities, and the purer they were, the more they were worth. Which was probably why nobody objected to making me, a bastard son, her husband.
“Is Hell okay though?” she asked. I simpered but didn’t answer.
Was she here for me or for my brother?
Ocean stood to her feet and sauntered her thick body over to me. She was pretty and had a banging body—which I expected nothing less if she caught the eye of my brother.
