Page 5 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Sighing, I sat back and held her gaze. Our chocolate eyes mirrored. I also stole her dark skin and thick, coarse, wavyhair, which traced back to her Somalian roots. All of my other features, including the sharp noses that my cousins and I shared, came from our Italian lineage. Some days, I hated that I looked like that nigga, and others, I didn’t mind. Shit had me confused as fuck that on most days I didn’t hold the same sentiments as my cousins when it came to the niggas whose sacks we were formed from. Then, there were days when I hated my father just as much as they did.
“I been thinking…” I held eye contact with the most beautiful woman I knew.
She’d been through a lot—more than most her age. I didn’t know a woman on this earth who had endured what Shannon had, and for her survival, I would always and forever give her anything and everything her heart desired. As a certified mama’s boy, her feelings would always matter above my own. Even though I was in this church, her response to my dilemma would be the be-all. If my mama wasn’t feeling it, then this shit would be pushed to the furthest portion of my mind to never be explored again.
Her sepia orbs held a soft gaze as she continued to wait for my response. She was patient—my mother had always been patient. Peering at my twin, I had to fight the emotions coursing through me. It should be a crime the way I loved this woman. She was everything to me, and the mere thought of hurting her caused a pang in my chest, one I had to fight to not reach up and soothe.
“I been thinking about reaching out to Sandro’s other son.”
I’d never been the one to beat around the bush. I didn’t like to leave people guessing. I was a straight shooter. I meant what I said and said what I meant, holding nothing back. Games were for children, and even when I was a jit, I’d been a grown-ass man. Being forced to grow up way before my time would do that to you. When I should have been running in the grass andscraping my knees, I was learning to cook dope and clean bullet wounds.
Studying her expression, I was waiting quietly for the faintest of hesitation. If Shannon said no, then that’s what it was. Didn’t too much shit move in my world without her blessing.
“Sandro’s other son…” she spoke just above a whisper.
Sandro Cuppacio.
The man she’d gone half with to create me. The man who I hated out loud most days, but missed in private on others. The Cuppacio Mob had been a ruthless and heartless organization, and while Sandro was just as vindictive as his family members, he lived a whole other life that many were oblivious to. He’d fathered a child outside of the organization. One that I vaguely remembered, even though I’d only seen him once during my childhood.
“You not with it, hunh?” I asked.
Shaking my head, I knew better than to bring up old wounds with my mother. She was a saved woman and had done well for herself. She’d married a preacher even though her son and nephews did ungodly things by the hour.
“Son.” My mother reached for my face, held my chin in her soft, warm hands, and gave a half smile. “You’re such a good man,” she cooed.
“But I’m not, Mama. I’m not good. I don’t think I’ll ever be good.”
And I was okay with that. I’d done some sinful shit, and I was far from being done with sinning. That shit was just in me.
“Shio, doing bad things doesn’t make you a bad person. Sinning doesn’t make you a sinner. Your intentions do. You always lead with pure intentions, son. You do the right thing even when no one else is looking. You stand behind your family no matter what, and you still have room to accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior. That is what makes you a good man, son.”
Standing, I towered over her and swept her up into my embrace. Her gorgeous face barely reached my chin. My mother knew all the right things to say to make me feel whole when a nigga always felt empty. What she said next brought a different feeling, though—one of approval and acceptance of my circumstances.
“Go get Tunan. After all, he is your brother.”
The nightof Neltz’s Birthday Party
Peeling my gloves off,I tossed them into the fire sitting in the middle of a vacant field just outside the city limits. A warm, orange glow illuminated my face from the flames, which were eating away at the green, rustic Ford Explorer until it was just a shell. My clothes were next, even the shoes, and when I was sure that the clothes had fed the fire, I unzipped the duffle and pulled out my change of clothes. By the time I was dressed, the fire had grown wild, so I jogged to my vehicle parked a few feet away. The heat burned my back, but it wasn't enough to be painful. Tossing the duffle onto the bed of my truck, I hopped into the driver’s seat and took off.
Keep Hobo alive.
That was yet another thing added to my extensive list, which had grown over the months since we settled in Jagoda Bay. But, for Neltz, I would do it. Ever since I caught wind of those little niggas planning Hobo’s demise, I knew I had to intervene. Their plan was too fucking flawed. They hadn’t fact-checked shit. Had I let them go through with their little mission, that would have been just extra shit for us Cuppacios to clean up. With Ezio having a new baby and being a fucking newlywed, Renello planning a wedding, and Metavello preparing for twins, I was the most available man, so that automatically made me responsible for all these little niggas.
It was cool, though. I’d always been the fucking fixer of the bunch and had grown used to doing what I had to do to make sure everyone around me was okay mentally and physically. Nonetheless, my plate was past full. I couldn’t even fit a fucking dinner roll on it, and Neltz, along with Italian, getting caught up in some bullshit would push my food onto the floor. I couldn’thave that. A nigga was hungry more than ever now that we’d tasted the good shit since leaving Chicago.
We hadn’t killed Hobo, but I needed all of our DNA from today’s events destroyed. One day, he would meet his end when Neltz was strong enough to stomach it, and when that time came, I didn’t need some detective that took his job a little too seriously to come and try to piece together some shit that was handled sloppily. Neltz still had eight years until he turned eighteen, but the law has been known to dig up evidence from fifty years ago. Scientists have been cloning Saber-tooth tigers with DNA from millions of years ago, so I didn’t put anything above the government. If a person wanted to know something, they could dig until they found out, but with me, you’d be digging until you reached the core of the fucking earth before I was caught slipping.
I waited until I was about an hour outside of Jagoda Bay before I turned my phones on. There was no need for GPS because I knew exactly where I was headed. I’d only made the drive once, and that was nearly a year ago. Still, I knew it by heart. I’d been putting this shit off long enough. I'd passed the ball, waiting for a nigga to pick it up and make a play, but that shit had just been rolling around on the court. Now it was time for me to show my face.
When both of my phones powered on, the one I used for personal interactions connected to the radio, and Lana Del Ray’s “West Coast” rattled through the speakers. One day, I’d stumbled across her music during my workouts, and she had a nigga hooked. Them Cuppacio boys clowned me anytime I wasn’t playing rap, R&B, or Selena. I enjoyed all types of music, though. Classical, jazz, and gospel were amongst my favorites, but rap, especially my boy, Essex, was the most relatable to me, so it got the most play.
Bobbing my head to her whisper-like chords, a text came through on my personal iPhone. Picking up the overused device, my thumb swiped the screen, not stopping until I reached my messages.
Glow
Yes, I’m good. Just leaving Neltz’s party. I’m calling it a night early.
ReadingGlow’s response to a message I sent right after I slipped away, I waited for the butterflies to flutter in my belly and for my heart to skip a beat. All of that good shit I know my family was experiencing, I paused for it to hit me. When it didn’t come, I shifted my eyes to the open road in front of me before typing out a reply.
