Page 42 of Cove City: Vol. I

“Shoot his ass Chev, damn!” one of his friends yelled.

I watched as Naheem eased back out of the crowd with a grin on his face. He had started something and knew it. Zaria and Indigo squeezed through the crowd, pushing them apart. I had been searching for my story this entire time when it had been in my face all along. The Cove held a dark cloud over it.What the fuck did I get myself into?

After the shit show that ensued everyone began leaving the Block Party. My mom swore she was ok but the way Naheem snatched her up I wanted that nigga dead. There was nothing anyone could say to me to change my mind. I knew how that nigga got down and he crossed the line putting his hands on my mother. Bishop didn’t have a good relationship with him, but I also knew if I put Naheem down it would damage my nigga even more knowing he has no mother or father despite how they treated him.

Bleek and Bishop came up the block, meeting me at the car after I saw my mother off. The shit kept replaying in my head. “You straight?” I heard Bishop ask, with London leading the way.

“No nigga! Yo fucked up pops put his muhfuckin hands on my moms. Yo Bop something ain’t right about that nigga. If you ask me, he did something to your mom. I know it.”

I could tell he thought the same thing. His jaws tighten. He went to say something when Indigo came behind him. “Bishop! What the fuck was that? You promised me you wouldn’t act out.”

Bishop tried keeping his composure as he talked through his teeth. “Indigo, I tried but that nigga asking for it. I should have put a bullet in his fucking head!”

“That’s my brother, you can’t. Take me home now!”

He flicked at his nose. “You don’t even know that nigga.”

“I’m trying to, and I can’t do that if you’re acting this way. I just want to go home.”

He ran his hand over his head in frustration. “Get up with me.”

“Bet.”

I could hear him still bitch as he walked off. “Indigo yo brother gone get smoked keep fucking with me.”

I turned to Bleek, “You out?” I asked.

“Y’all niggas is crazy. I got enough shit going on. Hit me if it’s some motion, you know I’m ready. I told Keith I would take him back to Bishop’s, but Tania is complaining about me coming to get Hope. You got me?”

“I’ll drop him off at Bop’s, I told him.”

We dapped each other up and he headed out. As he left, I pulled the blunt from behind my ear and sparked it up. I wanted to make sure shit cleared out before going to find Keith. My phone vibrated when I noticed it was a message from Sash, I checked it.

I was happy she was willing to talk. This was the ending to something I thought would last forever at one point, but the beginning of something better than I would have imagined. I slid my phone in my pocket as Tuesday strolled up the block. She tried walking past me with an attitude, but I reached out, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her toward me. “What are you mad for?”

I could see the wrinkles form in her forehead. “Pierre, what is really going on? Every day, I find out something new. That shit I saw back there wasn’t a peace treaty; it was something bigger.”

“I told you there is a lot of shit that’s deeper than you think. It’s a war, Mama, one that you will never understand.”

“Who is Angela? Grace? Mercier?”

Naheem had spilled the beans just as I thought he would. I tried gazing into Tuesday’s eyes, but she turned from me. “You’re not going to look at me?” I asked.

I found myself softening up for her. I would much rather be massaging her feet, sucking on her pussy than this shit. However, I knew she wouldn’t let up until I told her something. “Angela is Bishop’s moms and Grace,” I paused. “Is Chevy’s mom.”

“Where are they. Their mothers?”

“Kiss a nigga.”

“No!”

“Tuesday, I like you. I fuck with you the long way, but what you’re asking me to do is betray my best friend. I cannot do that. Please don’t make this hard on me.”

I had always been the nigga to people please, riding the coat tail of others because I had always been seen as just the shadow. The ugly little kid with broke parents who bought department store clothes. The ugly teenage boy who had talent but chose to hang with niggas out of his caliber, the older nigga who grew into his looks, but my money is what made me look good. The nigga who was known as Bishop’s shadow. The yes nigga although I wasn’t. I had been judged since day one and fought to please people so that they could see I was my own person. Then Sasha came, showed a nigga some love, and I fumbled that shit being cocky. Now, I had Tuesday, and it seemed like things would end the same way with her.

She patted the side of my face like a fucking dog and walked off. “Shit!”

This had to be a nigga’s karma. I wasn’t perfect, I know. A nigga had ugly scars that were bleeding of hurt, insecurities, and loyalty and I was being punished for them. All I needed was healing, and I didn’t have anyone to ride with me during the process.

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