Abel stepped next to his brother and backed Cain’s words.
“Mad niggas already asked us, we ain’t interested in whatever you two niggas tryna offer,” Abel stated in an unimpressed tone.
He sniffled then wiped the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. His throat tingled and he was positive that a cold was going to hit him in a day or two from being out days straight in the night air.
“Aye watch y’all damn mouths.” Roy frowned stepping closer. “We don’t want y’all to hustle for us, that’s some bitch nigga shit,” he retorted.
Luca chuckled inwardly. Leave it up to Roy to be his voice of reason. Roy had no patience or experience with kids, especially experience with twin boys like Cain and Abel.
“I’m… your,” Luca paused before painfully clearing his throat. “Uncle…I’m your uncle.” He paced his whispered words as he forced his voice to go up a few octaves for the boys to hear him clear enough.
That revelation hit the boys hard. Cain frowned his face up and took a step back.
“That means you brothers with our dad that don’t care about us, so fuck you and him,” Cain concluded, ready to walk away.
“Yeah.” Abel took a step in Luca’s direction. “No disrespect?—”
“Saying no disrespect always leads to disrespect,” Roy warned.
“We don’t claim no daddy nor the family that come from him.” Cain cut to the chase in contempt.
“Your uncle wants to help you guys. He not gon’ just hop in his nice ass car…go home to his multimillion-dollar home and sleep good with knowing his blood is out here starving,” Roy reasoned.
Cain shook his head hard, not caring about nothing Roy said. His eyes flickered toward Luca as he spoke.
“Nah. Like I said we good. We don’t need nobody.” Cain puffed his chest out.
It was a little too late to stop his voice from cracking on the last word. His anger and pride mixed with pain tangled tightly insideof him. It felt like somebody caved his little chest in with a fist as he looked into Luca’s dark eyes. He had so many questions for the man standing quietly in front of him. The twins spent countless of nights wondering why their dad didn’t want them. There were plenty of times they saw Kentrell sniffing behind their momma.
They hated when their mother gave in each time. She’d sleep with Kentrell, let him beat her and talk to her like she was beneath him. Kentrell would come around once in a blue moon. Whenever he did come, he never acknowledged the twins, not even a simple hi. Cain and Abel wondered why their momma allowed it. She’d float around the house smiling for a couple of days. She’d even cook and clean for what it was worth.
Once their mother realized that Kentrell wasn’t coming back, her dysfunction would rise. She treated her twins bad. Verbal and physical abuse was her method of keeping them in line when all they really wanted was love and attention. They’d see their mother Tracy treat her other male friends better than them. They were not a priority to her the moment they were able to piss on their own and get dressed without her help.
She made sure she looked good each day, even if her clothes weren’t expensive threads like the ones Kentrell rocked. It was a bitter pill for Tracy to swallow that two twin boys wouldn’t get Kentrell to put her first. Abel stifled a yawn; he looked at his brother with sad eyes.
He can’t be that bad…Abel thought as he shifted his weight to his other foot.
“I’m tired,” he said truthfully.
Abel studied Luca while Cain talked and saw the concern in Luca’s eyes. When the twins met their great grandfather days ago, he wanted to stay with him. Cain was the leader; he made all of their final decisions. So, Abel followed his brothers lead and agreed to leave. Despite how much the boys were tired of Tracy, they still loved her and worried about her safety since she liked to entertain different men.
“What Ab?” Cain faced Abel with a frown on his face.
“I said I’m tired, C,” he repeated, voice breaking this time. “I’m tired of doing this whenever we don’t have enough. Tired of being mad at everybody and tired of being broke.”
The words came out of him with a force too big for his small body. Luca was taken aback. No eight-year-old should have to speak with so much conviction, with that much hurt packed into every syllable.
Abel swallowed down and inhaled the night air sharply. His throat burned, felt tight like it was trying to close in on itself as if even it couldn’t handle what he was saying.
“I’m tired of Tracy’s ass always telling us tomorrow,” he pushed on, frustration spilling over. “We always believe her, thinking tomorrow she gon’ get right or we gone eat better…we even think that one day dad gone actually show up… instead of just fucking Tracy and acting like we don’t fucking exist!”
Pain spread through Abel’s chest, a deep aching pressure that made it hard to breathe like his heart was too heavy for his ribs. He tried to swallow down the sob of hurt but the ache only grew. His vision blurred, everyone surrounding him became distorted-looking. His tears slid down his cheeks one after another silentlybut loud in the way only a child’s pain can be, raw, honest, and far too real for Luca to stand still and watch.
Luca closed the space between him and Abel. Without second thought, he dropped down to one knee swallowing down his own emotions to be strong for both boys. He pulled Abel in and held him close against his chest like his father used to do him. It brought back painful memories that Luca thought he buried over a decade ago.
The traumatic memories of when he painfully lost his voice. When he felt rejected and different from his own blood line except his father. Dontrell had taught him to not let the lack of his voice be used against him and only then did Luca accept himself flaws and all. Abel’s despair radiated into Luca as he held him tighter. Tears threatened to fall from Luca’s eyes as Abel murmured into his chest.
“That nigga don’t ever show up. He hates me and Cain.” Abel’s fist clenched.
