OTHER SIDE OF THE GAME
“Do me a favor, OG. Call me if you have any problems or questions.” Mozzi slid a thick yellow envelope to the trucker in front of him.
Dawn lingered around them, the bright summer sun preparing for their day. Mozzi had been making moves since he watched Coast slip off into one of them deep food and pregnancy comas. That little baby in her stomach was kicking her ass. If she wasn’t eating, she was sleeping. Now she couldn’t fall asleep if she wasn’t up under him in some form or fashion. She talked all that shit when they were around other people, trying to stick her chest out like a soldier with the rest of the world when she turned into a big old baby around him. Mozzi didn’t mind. It was his job to provide that solace and comfort zone for her. It had barely been a week, and she’d managed to position herself in his life in a way that no woman ever had.
The gray-haired man with warm, familiar eyes slyly removed the envelope from Mozzi’s hand and slipped it into the back pocket of his black slacks. Although a truck driver, he didn’t have the regular flannel, outgrown hair, beard, and belly syndrome that most did in his position. He was clean cut, with tattoos on his hands, smooth amber skin, and thick, silky hair pulled backinto a ponytail. Shaking hands with Mozzi, he stroked his goatee and carefully peeped their surroundings.
“No problem, son.” He gripped his hand in a firm shake. “I’ll hit you later tonight to let you know when it’s done.”
“I appreciate it, WB. I heard you one of the best in the business. I need this to be effortless, but clear,” Mozzi reiterated.
“I wrote the book on this shit, kid. I got you.”
“Say less.” With a nod, Mozzi backed off and ambled over to his black Aston Martin Volante.
Slipping into the driver’s seat, he grabbed the blunt from the ashtray and tucked it between his lips. His phone buzzed in his hand with Kong’s name flashing across the screen. Mozzi swiped to answer, slamming his car door and starting his engine.
“What’s good?”
“We got a few things we need to talk about.” The seriousness in his tone didn’t slip past Mozzi.
Brows bunching together, he hit a quick U-turn and maneuvered his car toward a main street.
“Moose has something for us too. Meet us at the house.”
“On my way.” Mozzi quickly hung up and mashed his foot down on the glass.
By the time he arrived at the estate, Yasmine cracked the door open, and Mozzi could hear Kong’s voice echoing through the halls from the kitchen. Strolling inside in his joggers, t-shirt, and hoodie, he was casual as fuck as he inhaled the heavenly aroma coming from the oven. Hiking his pants up on his hips, Mozzi paused when Kong ended his call and set his phone on the table.
“Yo, the hell smell so good? Whatever it is, send that shit back with me for Coast. She like a hound. Baby can smell what I ate for breakfast if she sitting too close.”
Kong folded the newspaper shut that he’d been skimming as Mozzi strolled toward the table. He threw his chin up at Aylain greeting behind the counter. She seemed preoccupied, or like she was avoiding some shit while Kong kept his business as usual composure.
“It’s lemon raspberry yogurt cake. I’m making bacon, sausage, and eggs with them. I can send you a to-go plate when I’m done.” Ayla smiled, but she barely looked up from her preparations.
Kong tensed up when Mozzi lowered to his chair. Although his younger brother peeped it, he didn’t speak on it. He knew women problems when he saw them. Last night, there was for sure a vibe between them. Mozzi was led to believe something else might have happened. It was all in how his brother reacted to Ayla being so nearby. She worked seamlessly in the kitchen, prepping things so she could go on with her day, but there was a permanent furrow in her brow.
It was Sunday, and she’d already meal prepped for their lunch while dinner marinated. All she wanted to do was kick off her shoes, have a hot bubble bath with some wine, and watch an episode or two of her favorite cooking show while dozing off for a couple of hours. Her social battery had overloaded the last couple of days. She needed a little time for herself to decompress.
“Bet.” Mozzi reached for the back of the chair across from Kong. “Make me a plate for here too.”
By the time Moose arrived, Mozzi was on seconds, and Kong only moved eggs around on his plate. Audiemar sailed inside, a confident Obama swagger in gray slacks with a white button-up shirt as he adjusted the watch on his wrist.
“Good morning, Ayla. I’ll take some coffee to go, please. I’m heading out to church with Phoebe and Nay.”
“You sure that’s safe?” Mozzi bit into a piece of the yogurt cake. “Won’t they catch fire soon as they step into the Lord’shouse? Evil asses,” he mumbled, laughing it up with Moose when he joined them at the table.
Ayla poured Audiemar his coffee in the paper to-go cups with a lid that they kept in stock and moved toward the table to provide Moose with a plate.
“Good looking, Ayla.” Moose rubbed his hands together and grinned.
“Do you need anything else?” she asked, reaching behind her back to untie her apron.
“No.” Kong didn’t look at her when he spoke. “That’ll be all.” His tone was very professional, which made her nod as she forced a tight smile on her lips and backed away.
“The kids have food put away, and I made lunch for them as well. Dinner is prepped and marinating. Mozzi, I left Coast’s food in one of those totes on the counter. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” Kong eyed her quickly but turned his attention back to the table to deal with his brothers.
