His Prologue
As sad as he was, he refused to let another tear fall. His father had already taught Him a lesson he only had to learn once. The moment Derrick saw his second oldestson crying at his grandmother’s funeral, he hit him so hard in his mouth it started bleeding. He told him real men didn’t cry, and since he was sixteen, he was considered a real man. His father, Derrick, had no idea.
The tears weren’t just because his grandmother had died. They were because his grandfather was dead too. They were because his mother, Julia, set him on his father’s doorstep the day they were released from the hospital… never to be seen or heard from again. They were because now that his grandmother was gone, he was forced to stay with his father for two years. A father who let his parents raise Him for the past sixteen years.
Julia was so unbothered over being a mother that she named her son Him. Because of that, most people called him by his last name, Bridges, or by his nickname in the streets—Draco. While his father may not have ever tried to have a personal relationship with Him, Derrick did bring him into the family drug business when he turned ten years old. At the ripe age of thirteen, he became proficient with a Draco AK-47, becoming his father’s own personal shooter. And since Derrick never gave Him love, he settled for his father’s pride and need for his shooting skills.
Draco didn’t think anything could make burying his grandmother worse, but having to immediately move in with his father and his family did. He had no relationship with Derrick’s wife, Mona, or their sons: Clover, Nathan, and Keem. Mona had always resented Him because Derrick had an affair with Julia. Rumor had it that Derrick didn’t raise his outside son because Mona forbade it, and he was willing to do anything to stay in her good graces, including turn his back on his own son.
Clover always had some smart shit to say to Him, and they were often at odds because of the conflict and pain Clover’s mother sustained because of their father’s actions. It never made sense to Him for Clover to blame him for that, but there was nothing he could do about it. Draco’s relationship with hisyounger brothers was better because they were born after him, but they weren’t close like brothers—more like young hoodlums who made small talk whenever they had to make runs together.
“You gon’ sit outside all night?” Derrick asked, cracking the iron front door.
Draco wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on the porch, but he was in no rush to go inside. He gritted his teeth, dried his eyes, and hung his head. Even knowing there was a house full of people inside, four of whom had some of the same DNA as him, he’d never felt so alone. With a huff, Draco shook his head.
“I’ll be in, in a lil while.”
Derrick chuckled. “Aight, lil nigga.”
Draco didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his father closed the door and he released it. The sound of a squeak coming from the house on the right gained Draco’s attention. He watched as a tiny girl ran out the house and hopped off the porch, skidding across the concrete.
“Ow!” she yelled, grabbing her knee as she rocked.
Four kids frantically made their way out the front door as she hissed in pain.
“Oh shit!” one of the two girls yelled. “Y’all gon’ get it now! Mamatoldy’all to stop all that playing!”
The other girl sucked her teeth and hunched over, looking the girl on the ground over skeptically. “I told her not to come in my room.”
“She ain’t have a choice! Mama told her to come in there and go to sleep until we get another mattress for the daybed.”
“I don’t see why she has to sleep in my bed when they’re the ones that ripped hers!”
“Aye, shut cho snitching ass up!” the tallest of the two boys roared, pushing her.
For some reason, Draco felt compelled to help the girl on the ground. He had no idea who she was, but it was clear she wasbeing bullied. Maybe not by all four of the kids, but definitely by three. Standing, he scratched a mosquito bump absently and walked across the grass to get to their house.
“You good?” he asked, looking at her as she clutched her knee. The sun had just set, but between the dusky sky and streetlights, Draco saw the blood from the scratch on her knee.
“It hu?—”
“She’s good,” the tallest boy said.
“Was I talking to you?” Draco asked, not even bothering to look up at him as he kneeled next to her.
“It don’t matter. I said she’s good. Come on, Cordova.”
When he reached for her, Draco growled and swatted his hand away. He stood in front of her as the four troublemakers stepped back.
“Yo, did he just growl?” the shorter boy asked with a laugh.
“Like a dog,” the taller one added, making him laugh harder.
Draco didn’t give a fuck about their words. By their actions, he could tell they wanted no problems with him.
“He must got that dog in ’em,” the instigating girl said with a smirk, eyeing his frame as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’ll be that and have that,” Draco declared. “I’ll be the biggest dog for her. Who want it wit’ me?”
