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“Shut up, boy, and let’s go,” I ordered through my laugh as I got in the car.
I could admit there were days where I didn’t bother to get out of the bed for anything—not even to eat or shower—but that hadn’t been the case yesterday or today, and that was progress.
He stayed outside for a while before getting in the truck, releasing a frustrated huff.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as he started the truck.
“This nigga said he doesn’t think we can do business together because he’s heard I can be vitriol. I don’t even know what the fuck that means.”
His clipped tone and frown made it clear he was upset, but that didn’t make it easy for me to hold my laugh in. Carlos was as hood as they come. Even with our parents providing for us as well as they did financially, he stayed in the hood with Daddy. As much as Mama wanted us both to go to college, Carlos didn’t even make it out of high school. In the tenth grade, he decided he wanted to be a drug dealer like Daddy. Out of respect for Mama, Robert Carter told him he couldn’t sell until he finished school.
Carlos forced Daddy’s hand and started selling under one of his competitors. Because of that, Daddy took him under his wing. He dropped out of high school three months into that school year and hadn’t regretted it since.
“Vitriol, or being vitriolic, means cruel or bitter criticism that is often unnecessary in my opinion.”
“Hmm.” His head bobbed and he massaged his goatee as he drove out of our gated driveway. “Is that really a bad thing, though? I need these niggas to fear and respect me as their boss.”
“Yeah, but do you have to be unnecessarily cruel to do that?”
Carlos looked over at me briefly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Do you think I’m cruel?”
I huffed, thinking it over carefully. Carlos, like Daddy, was a hard ass, but he was a softy at heart too.
“I can’t say how you are in the streets. With me, you have your moments but you’re a softy too. I think there have been times where you’ve said things in a crass or insensitive way, but you weren’t trying to intentionally hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“You do always call me an asshole.”
“Well… that’s true.” We shared a soft laugh. “But you’re a good guy too. I love you, even though you really can get on my nerves.”
“Aww,” he cooed, trying to pull me toward him by my neck.
“Carlos, stop!” I yelled with a smile as he kissed my cheek.
“I love you, Whis. For real,” he confessed as he released me. “And I promise, everything I’m doing now is for you. For us. I told Pops if he got out of here too soon that I’d take care of you just like he did. Remember that tonight.”
His statement, though sweet, made my heart drop. “I love you too, and I appreciate you. Will this meeting make me forget that?”
Carlos’s mouth twisted to the side. His head shook. “Honestly… I don’t know.”
3
Beethoven
The Day Before
My time was a luxury, and I often made sure it wasn’t wasted. Not too often was I able to link up with the crew, so tonight was special. It was me, Asylum, Merc, Bully, and Karrington. When we got together, we often shut the place down. Life had been progressing for my guys in ways I wasn’t sure was possible for me.
Asylum, Merc, and Bully all had new babies and the loves of their lives at home. Karrington was single like me, but his heart was being held captive by Luna Ray—a married woman. A married woman who kept her distance from him because, in my opinion, she knew it was dangerous for the two of them to be around each other. I wouldn’t say she didn’t love her husband, but there was no doubt in my mind that my boy truly had her heart.
Before I could fully settle into my evening out, I got a phone call from Pops. With our line of business, I couldn’t ignore his calls. Standing, I excused myself and headed out of the lounge as I answered with, “Yeah?”
“Meet me at the steakhouse.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
Not waiting for me to agree, Pops ended the call. I should have known he was going to request my presence. The only time he called me was if something was wrong or we needed to meet. Other than that, we had our conversations face-to-face in the morning before we started making our moves or at the end of the day.
