Page 8 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Fuck it.
I decided I would walk because all that mattered was my freedom. Freedom, family, and this eight-thousand-dollar check were all I had, but that was more than ninety percent of those niggas behind bars had.
“Damn, it’s been that long that you don’t recognize your brother?”
Pausing in my stride, I turned to see a dark-skinned nigga leaning against a big-ass, tricked-out pickup truck. My brothers and I shared the exact same face. I got a bit lighter than them during the winter months, like now, with it being February. This nigga, though. He and I shared a handful of features. Our nose, eyes, and lip shape were identical, but he didn’t look like a Payne. Still, my mother had confirmed he was indeedmybrother.
With a neutral expression on my face, I approached him. His hand was crossed at his belt, and there was a Jesus piece on his neck. I didn’t know what cologne he was wearing, but that shit greeted me before I even got within an inch of him. He was going to have to pass the name of that to me, and when I got back straight, I would add it to my collection. As for now, I wasn’t buying shit that wasn’t a necessity. Instead of slapping his hand, I stood an arm’s length away from him and waited for him to tell me why he was here instead of my brother, myrealbrother.
“First day out. I hope it’s yo’ last one.”
Chuckling, I couldn’t even check him about getting on me. I was too damn old to be up in here on bullshit-ass charges. So, I would give him that because if I could help it, I wouldn’t be in this bitch ever again.
“Hell yeah, it is.”
We both glared at each other. The last time I’d seen this nigga was when I sold him a painting Turo had stolen while on a mission with the Navarros. This nigga had paid a grip for that bitch, and when he revealed that he was my brother, I knew it was the only reason he’d gotten the painting up off me. We exchanged numbers, and he’d propositioned me to join the mob. After our first conversation, we hadn’t made a move beyond that. I was skeptical about the shit, but when my mama confirmed he was indeed my brother, I decided, as long as it was getting me rich, I was joining whatever the fuck it was he wanted me to join. My mother’s sons didn’t agree with the shit, but I was past whatever they were talking about. Before I could reach back out to the nigga since it had taken him so long to reach out to me, I’d caught a charge and had been in this bitch ever since. I hadn’t even thought about his ass once while doing my bid, so seeing him out here was shocking, to say the least.
“You not fucking with me,” mydaddy’sson rubbed his hand down his goatee.
“I’m just tryna see what you on. Why you here?”
“Shit, why you here?” he retorted.
My expression hardened. “Because I put my trust in the wrong muthafucka.”
“You here on domestic violence charges. Let’s call it what the fuck it is. You put your trust in the wrongbitch.”
His words stung. But the shit was true.
I’d been a fucking player; fucking women by the boatloads. I was a young turnt nigga. Many of my brothers had settled down. Tulscan was the latest one to do so, wifing up a fine-ass realestate agent from the Bay. But me? I was having my fucking way. I told my brother that I was moving from the A to Jagoda Bay. I was excited to not only be in the same city as my sister and nephews, but was glad to be thrown into a world of new fine-ass women.
While visiting for Tuscany’s baby shower, I was able to get a glimpse of just how Jagoda Bay gave it up. The women there were top-fucking tier. Right when I was about to have my newest sister-in-law find me a spot in her city, I let her and my brother’s lovey-dovey shit rub off on me. I met a bitch, fell for her, and moved her in. That shit not only halted my move, but also ruined my fucking life. As fine as Stella was, the bitch was equally toxic. All we did was fuck and fight. The shit had never been physical, though. Not until I caught her stank pussy ass in my bed fucking another nigga. I don’t even put my hands on women, but I tried to murk her and that nigga. Due to the neighborhood I lived in, my black ass was hauled to jail and has been here ever since. Stella was the reason I’d turned down many of the fine-ass COs who tried to get this pressure up out of me. I was good on pussy for now. I just wanted to get my shit back in order.
“Aye, I’m not here to kick you while you down.” My daddy’s son brought me back from taking a walk down memory lane.
“Couldn’t fool me,” I replied, my face still neutral.
Even though this nigga was dressed plainly in a navy hoodie, matching sweats, and white Forces, I could tell that his life had elevated since he’d bought the portrait. He had to have some money at the time to drop a ticket on the painting, but now, I could tell he was really holding from his truck to his demeanor. He wasn’t flashy and didn’t have on any jewelry outside of the gold Jesus piece, but his aura gave off that he was caked up. I wasn’t counting no other niggas pockets, though, even if we came from the same nutsack. I just wanted to know what the fuck this nigga wanted so I could be on my merry way.
“We come from the same man,” he flatly stated. He didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic about what he’d just said, further confusing me.
“That nigga wasn’t shit to me. My mama had a house full of kids. I got four brothers and a sister. I was born in this world with brothers, and we were poor as fuck too. My mama had mentally checked out on us, leaving her only daughter to raise us. My sister had to sell her body to a sick-ass nigga that kept his foot up her ass and was old enough to be her granddaddy. Where the fuck was our daddy then? Ion give a fuck about that nigga. Even if he was alive, I wouldn’t give a fuck about him,” I said, the anger evident in my tone as I spat the words out.
Shio watched me, and I watched his ass right back. If he thought we were going to bond over stories of our Casper-ass daddy, he was sadly mistaken. My mama eventually came around and got herself together, but having all those babies by different men messed with her mind. We drove her crazy, and when we got older and some of us started choosing the streets and catching charges, we really pushed her over the edge. Luckily, we all made a life for ourselves, and a sperm donor had nothing to do with it. Unless he could find our pappy, bring him back to pay child support, and go back in time to stop Gilberto’s foul ass from messing with my sister, there was nothing he could say about Sandro Cuppacio.
“You put some thought into what I asked you about last time we rapped lately?”
Bruh and I talked over a year ago. Hell nah, I hadn’t put no thought into the shit, especially not recently. At the time, I’d thought about entertaining it, particularly since he was in Jagoda Bay, the city where I was supposed to be moving to. Once I got locked up, he, the mafia, and Jagoda Bay were not on my list of priorities.
“As you can see…” I gestured behind me. “I’ve been occupied.”
Shio grumbled. “Yeah, I see.”
“What you want from me, Shio?”
I could see that he was processing my answer. “Listen to your father’s instruction and don’t reject your mother’s teaching, for they will be a garland of favor on your head and pendants around your neck.”
Scraping my bottom lip with my teeth, I stiffened. “Proverbs chapter one, verse eight and nine,” I said as if he’d asked a question.
