“What’s goin’ on?” I asked. They both looked at me. Hell was up on his feet and tried to offer me a drink, but I declined.
“We gonna have a party!” Kelechi yelled and laughed. I didn’t. I frowned because what the fuck was he talking about.
“A party for what?”
“To celebrate him, of course,” Orlando said, standing to his feet.
I was all for enjoying yourself and shit, especially if it was an occasion like your birthday or something, but my brother done had his birthday and wedding, so I knew it wasn’t because of that. And that shit didn’t make sense to me.
“So, you gonna throw a party, just because?” I asked, looking at them both. Right now wasn’t the time to be doing this shit. Orlando scoffed.
“I told you that nigga wouldn’t understand,” he flapped his hand at me.
“No, I understand, I just think it’s a stupid ass idea,” I let them know.
For weeks, my brother had been showing his ass, drawing attention to himself, and I allowed it, but this was going too far.
“It’s stupid because you didn’t think of it?” Orlando asked.
I looked at this dumb ass nigga, wondering what my mother ever saw in him enough to make me. I often wondered why Hell ended up doing a lot of stupid shit, but now, I understood.
“Nah, because there’s no fucking reason to do some shit like that! Y’all asking for trouble.”
The way Hell had been moving lately, I was surprised that some niggas hadn’t tried their luck yet, but I knew, without a doubt, that if anyone had any plans to, this party was gonna be the perfect opportunity.
Orlando sucked his teeth at me.
“And this is exactly why I don’t even want you involved,” he said, peering at me.
“Now, you definitely done lost your fucking mind. It’s not happening!” I let him know.
Orlando stepped toward me like he could intimidate me, but I closed the gap between us to show him that he didn’t put anyfear in my heart. I would gladly rock on his ass and not give a fuck about it either.
“Okay, y’all chill,” Hell said. He stepped between us and pulled me away with him. I kept my eyes on Orlando.
“Bro, chill. It’s not that deep,” Kelechi said. I looked at my brother.
“This isn’t a good idea, especially because he doesn’t want me involved. There’s no telling what niggas will show up to this thing, Kelechi. I have a bad feeling about this,” I let him know.
“Hell—”
“Havoc, can you just trust me? Pops thinks this will get Sincere’s attention, and I believe so. People have already been whispering my name about me being the one to take over?—”
“And that’s what I’m worrying about!” I cut him off.
Besides, I knew Sincere, he wasn’t going to pick a flashy ass guy like my brother. I loved my brother more than anything in this world because he loved me. Even when Orlando constantly gave me his ass to kiss, Kelechi cherished me. I would take a fucking bullet for my brother without hesitating—that was how much I loved him. But I knew in my heart that Sincere didn’t have his eyes on him. He was doing all of this shit because Orlando wanted him to, and in the end, I knew it was only going to bring him trouble and not the throne.
People didn’t pay attention to shit. If they did, they would have seen that Sincere hadn’t even contacted my brother. If he had plans on making him take over, wouldn’t they have met up by now? But all they saw was the show Hell and Orlando were putting on, and that was enough to put eyes on him—but for the wrong reason.
If I was a hating ass nigga, would I really sit back and watch another nigga climb to the top! My brother had done nothing except put a target on his back, and he couldn’t even see it.
If Orlando really cared, he would be shielding him, not putting him out there for the world to see.
Hell sighed heavily, planted both hands on my shoulders, and looked me in the eyes.
“Makari, this is my chance. I can feel it. I just need you to trust me.”
“I trust you, brother, but this isn’t it. Remember what happened at that club,” I said.
