“I missed you, too, Ma. And I really missed your cooking.”
She beamed. “You know I got a plate waiting just for you, baby.”
“Sweet. Let me wash my hands so I can get in on that. Let’s get them bones poppin’, Unc.”
“You ain't said nothing but a word!” Uncle Dakari said, rushing off while everyone laughed.
“I’m going to get some water,” I told Damien.
“A’ight. Bring us some beers back. We’ll be on the patio.” He tapped me on my ass and shooed me away.
I wanted to spit in his face, but I just nodded.
Before I walked away, Truce and I locked eyes again, and the small spark that one look made could have been detected if anyone was paying close attention. I hurriedly made my way outof the room before I found myself in something I wouldn’t be able to get out of.
Damn,she’s beautiful.
Beautiful and forbidden.
I had to wonder where my brother found her. I was used to him having unattractive chicks on his arm, which was his preference. The nigga swore all fine chicks cheated, so he didn’t date them. There had to be something so special about Miss Jela that he put a baby in her and wanted to marry her. The shit seemed fugazi, but it was none of my business.
I missed my people and was happy when Lane Builders opened up another location in my hometown. They made me the CEO of the company after evaluating the success I’d brought, which allowed the current expansions. My passion for designing and building homes came from my late father, Iman. I watchedas he built his house from the ground up with his two best friends, creating a masterpiece. I was only six then, but what he did fascinated me so much that I had my future planned out before I even reached puberty.
Unfortunately, my old man left me when I was thirteen. Even though he and my moms weren't together, he had always been good to her, even after she cheated on him and got pregnant with Dame. Dame’s pops was the polar opposite of mine. While my father taught me how to use my head and hands for good, Dame’s pops was showing him how to use both for bad. Damien Senior was a ruthless nigga, who did bad things and had a hand problem. He liked to put his hands on my moms until I beat his ass and sent him packing with broken legs.
While I didn't condone violence, I’d get real ignorant behind my mama and the people I loved. Dame was opposite; the nigga lived for violence, which I’m sure stemmed from his ugly-ass daddy.
While I chose not to get in the streets, Dame embraced it.
I always tried to encourage my brother to do better, but his street mentality always blocked everything good I was trying to teach him. He was the wild child, while I was the level-headed one.
As we sat out on our mom’s deck, I ate my food while looking at the chipped paint on her patio. It had been years since I’d been here, but now that I was back, I was going to make it my business to upgrade a few things around here.
“Where you staying, Tru?” Luke asked me.
“I’m going to get a room at the Westin for now. Then I’m going to do a month-to-month at an apartment until my house gets done.”
“Why would you do that? You can stay here with us,” my moms suggested.
“No offense, beautiful, but ya crib is a little overcrowded. You know I need my space.” There was no way I was staying here when she had my uncle, aunt, and four cousins living here.
“You can come stay with me. I got plenty of room,” Dame said, coming out of the house and sitting across from me.
My eyes found the beautiful Jela, who trailed behind him, carrying what I was sure was this nigga’s third plate of food and two drinks. She didn't say much and could barely look anybody in the face for too long. She seemed timid, uncomfortable, and out of place. I watched as she set his plate in front of him and his drink beside him, then took a seat next to him.
“I’m good. I don’t want to intrude.”
He frowned. “Ain’t no intrusion. You’re my brother, and my crib got the space. It’s only me, Jela, and the baby. There’s plenty of room.”
“No offense, but I like to walk around naked.” I chuckled, eyes meeting Jela’s as I sipped my beer.
Damn, she’s gorgeous.
She cast her eyes downward, busying herself with her phone.
“Aye… as long as you do it on the east wing of the crib and not around my bitch or baby, you good.”
I could see Jela cringe slightly at him calling her a bitch.
