“Yeah. There’s time, Chaos. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You and he have the rest of your lives to build that bond. He’s already crazy about you. He never talks about anyone as much as he talked about you in the short time he has known you. I can see the excitement in his eyes when we video chat and how fast his fingers fly when he’s telling Chrishanna and me things to tell you.”
I chuckle and strap my helmet on before I climb on the bike too. Within minutes, we’re flying down the road headed toward Jagged’s kids.
“What are you doing? You can’t be going through these people’s refrigerator like that,” Charisma fusses.
We just arrived at Jagged’s place fifteen minutes ago.
“Girl, shut up and find the frying pan,” I argue, taking the ground turkey out of the freezer.
“Seriously, what are you even doing?”
“Can’t ya li’l ass ever follow instructions? Or is crying the only thing you know how to do?” I tease with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes and opens cabinets, looking for a frying pan. I go through the cabinets and find the rest of the ingredients that I’m looking for. Once I find everything, I throw the frozen pack of ground turkey into the skillet and turn it on.
I can feel her watching me as I break the turkey down little by little.
“How are you just gonna come up in these people’s place and make some tacos?”
“Listen, them li’l bad ass kids gon’ come home starving if they anything like me or Jagged. I used to come home and demolish some shit after school. Don’t nobody want no peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“I’m sure they ate at school.”
Shaking my head, I look at her like she’s lost her gahdamn mind, ’cause man, she had to. “Ain’t nobody in they right mind eating that nasty ass school shit.”
She breaks out laughing so hard, I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips.
“So what? Because you used to be hungry all the time, you figure these kids want to come home to some tacos?
“Why not?” I ask, spreading my arms out wide. “It’s taco Tuesday.”
Her mouth drops, and her eyes widen and sparkle with amusement. She’s so damn beautiful.
“Are you serious right now, Chrishon?”
“Aye. Watch that. You’re getting too comfortable with that shit,” I grumble, pointing the spatula at her.
“What? Calling you by your government name?”
“Yeah. I ain’t playing with you,” I reply as I turn back to breaking the tacos down further just as the doorbell rings.
“Do you want me to take over cooking?”
“Nah. Your ass makes basic meals. These kids don’t want no Chef-Boyardee, not when they got Jagged and Bell for parents. Trust me when I tell you big boy and big mama can burn. Answer the door. It’s probably they bad ass kids. If it ain’t no pint-sized shorties, then holla, and I’ll come through with Corruption,” I instruct, patting my gun in the back of my waistband.
“I cannot with you!” She shrieks, laughing as she heads out of the kitchen.
It’s not long before I hear kids’ laughter and then shrieks from behind me.
“Uncle Chaos! For real?” Jagged’s twelve-year-old son, Tico, shouts.
I turn around and smile as he rushes me. Wrapping one arm around him and still managing to cook with the other arm, I reply, “Wassup, my nig?”
“Just chillin’.”
“Still making good grades in school?”
“Yep.”
