Page 33 of The Impossible

Otto nodded. “The same could be said about Shamus. Operating in old ways is why they need money so fucking bad. Motherfucker damn near extorted you to get a couple dollars over a deal Titus made years ago with Pops.”

I agreed. “You damn right, but that got me thinking.”

“Which is why you didn’t let her father walk her down the aisle?” He chuckled.

“Damn right. At that moment I didn’t trust none of them niggas with her. You think I waited all those years to make her mine just to be careless with her life and let somebody take it? Blood to her or not, they all had me fucked up.”

“You don’t think her people would take a hit out, do you?”

I didn’t respond immediately, instead pondering my thoughts. “Motherfuckers are underhanded, especially Shamus.”

“What would he gain?”

“Besides the fact that I still would have to pay him, nothing that I’m aware of.”

He nodded. “Then it could have been any of the families in attendance. Not the Jacksons. Ty ain’t on nothing like that.”

“True. Then that leaves the Currs and her own fucking people. I’m the first to admit I don’t care for Old Man Curr, nobody does and that’s known, but what the fuck would he gain?”

Otto shrugged. “I’ma look into it anyway. A hit on her is a hit on you. Niggas probably thought it was a different room and decided to take two birds with one stone. You never know.”

“Makes sense. But it was the way he spoke to her, talking about easy money. It was planned, and by who, I don’t know.”

Otto nodded. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, but until we do, let’s act civilized in this fucking meeting.”

We had a meeting with the heads of the other families about grievances Old Man Curr had with Tylon. A meeting couldn’t be held while I was out of commission on my honeymoon, so it was scheduled for today. The static between the two sides was foreseeable because Tylon Jackson was the very thing an old motherfucker like Curr resented. While Curr thought he should be kept in the loop on what every other family did, like his opinion mattered, Tylon knew ball. He utilized what he had to get what he wanted in the grand scheme of things. He didn’t look down on smaller businesses and deny them use of his motion. I fucked with it because he wasn’t the type of nigga to keep the money at the top. Everybody ate, as long as they got their own food.

“You hear me, Hondo? You’re in charge but you gotta keep that shit level.”

I chuckled. Lately the roles had been reversing between my brother and me. He used to run hot and be more on the reckless side while I had these little corner conversations. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

He shook his head. “Yo, didn’t you just come off your honeymoon? Don’t you got a lot of act right in your system?”

His question caught me by surprise. “Yeah, and? Don’t mean I give passes. But today I’ma follow your lead. You got this, especially since I don’t see the need for this meeting. I have other things to do than to be listening to geriatric motherfuckers whining.”

He laughed. “Man, whatever.”

We talked for a while longer before he had to take a call about his businesses and I decided to check in with Nic. She’d texted me this morning asking what I wanted for dinner. My response was to ask if she was the one cooking and she said maybe. I meant to call her, but one of the people I kept in charge of the warehouse came in for our meeting. Ever since that dumb ass case, Otto and I agreed I’d stay away from the warehouse given all that shit came from over there. We closed ranks and there were only two motherfuckers from that side who could talk to me or him.

I propped my phone against the laptop in front of me and clicked her contact to FaceTime. Before her, I didn’t care for that camera in my face because there was nobody I was always trying to see. With Nic though, I always wanted to be looking at her. I was lowkey obsessed and had been for a while.

“I thought you were busy,” she said, her voice bringing a smile to my face even though she wasn’t in the camera. It was propped up on the island in her closet. I could tell from the shoe boxes.

She entered the camera, immediately making me lick my lips. She wasn’t in anything I’d seen her in, but instead a gold sequin dress with a dangerously low neckline. I was immediately taken aback, pissed I wasn’t at the house.

“Hondo,” she said, interrupting my trance.

“My bad, damn. I was. What you got that on for? Where are you going?”

“Trying on clothes to see if I want them or if I’ll be donating them. I went through a phase in my life where I just bought shit and this dress is one of those things.” She motioned toward it.

I grinned. “Look good as fuck, Nic. Keep it. I know a few things you could do in that.”

She giggled. “Sir.”

“I’m deadass. Matter of fact, go through that when I’m home. I’ll help you discern what you keep.”

She busted up laughing. “I’m sure you will. I won’t even get through a box.”