Page 63 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Standing, I snatched up my phone from the couch and headed to the kitchen with Glee on my heels. Stopping at the sink, I washed my hands, dried them with paper towels from the stainless steel holder that matched my appliances, and opened my fridge. Pulling out the carryout container, I made a note to go grocery shopping. With two college students, who would be living with me this summer, I had to make sure everything was stocked. Glee could go without, but that Blayke could eat.
“Where Blayke at? Her people making her stay home to attend Bible camp?”
Assembling the burgers on a plate, I placed them in the microwave to heat them up.
“Oh, her flight comes in soon. I’m picking her up from the airport.”
Unlike my sister, Blayke didn't have a car yet. They weren't allowed on campus during their freshman year anyhow, but Glee planned to take it back to school with her for their sophomore year. I guess since Blayke didn't ride with my sister here for whatever reason, she decided to fly in from Sparkling City. Iassumed a flight to such a nearby city cost her nothing, but to get away from the Deacons, I was sure Blayke would empty her account. They would be straight here, though. I even planned to take them shopping for a few summer outfits. I also planned to pay them to help me sort through my PR packages; anything I didn't want or had too much of, they could have. Sometimes a brand would send me one of everything in every color. I loved clothes just as much as the next woman, but I didn't need that much.
Instead of responding to Glee, I handed her the hot food and gestured toward the stool at the island.“Eat.”
A toothless grin spread across her face as she sauntered to sit down.
I grabbed her a bottle of water from the fridge and slid it across the granite.Once I was sure she was busy with her burger, I finally pulled my phone out of the pocket of my athletic leggings and unlocked the screen. Swiping past hundreds of notifications from various apps, I went to the messaging icon. His message was right at the top. My thumb hovered over it.
What should I say? Do I want to see him? Was he serious about the marriage? Was I even serious about agreeing to a marriage?
I wanted to belong, to be fully a part of my only friends’ circle, but at what cost? I didn’t know what the hell my friends’ men were involved in—I mean, not really. I knew it was a mob, even though I pretended not to notice. I kept telling myself I’d just been hearing things over the last two years when someone let a comment slip in my presence. Tunan, however, had cleared up any doubts I might’ve had about what was going on, and while I didn’t know the intimate details, I knew enough to still want to be included.
I hadn't been hearing things, and those slipped-up comments were real life. My girls were mob wives, and the menthey married were a part of the mob—a mob I was sure was run by Demise since he was titled Don. Now, this man, whom I didn't know at all, had offered me a way in. His offer would give me the one thing I’d been craving, and all I had to do was take his last name.
Pull up on a nigga, hunh?
He wanted to see me. A small part of me wanted to see him too. But I wasn't going there with Tunan. Not now. Not ever. I’d see what he was talking about with our arrangement, though.
Where are you, Tunan?
It tookhim less than a minute to send me his location. He was almost seven hours away, in a completely different city—one I had no interest in visiting, especially given how the city stayed in the news with the rising homicide rate. Memphis was worse than Chicago these days. Their artists were killing the music scene right now, but their YNs had the streets in a chokehold.
Looking up from my phone, I found my sister watching me as she ate her second burger, with only juice left from the first. Ignoring her teasing looks, I typed out a reply.
Absolutely not.
901-428-6632
Why not?
Because you’re in Memphis. Y’all too ignorant down there for me.
901-428-6632
Stop watching the news. We ain’t that bad. Come fuck with ya boy.
I’m good. A nigga has never had me that “in like” for me to take a road trip for him.
901-428-6632
Who said some shit about driving?
Before I could reply,the Apple Pay notification bubbles popped up on the screen. I held my breath in anticipation. The last person who sent me money was Shio, and even though it was always unexpected, I really appreciated it. I hadn't heard from Shio since he stood me up for our date. I’d officially been disqualified by him, and even though rejection stung, I wasn't too upset about it. I knew that man wasn't feeling me like that. His actions, or lack thereof, proved it.
Twelve hundred dollars was now sitting in my Apple Pay wallet, and the smile on my face was an indication of it. He’d paid the tab at dinner, which wasn't cheap, agreed to pay my bills in the wake that I did take his last name, and had now sent me a little over a stack. If his intentions were to impress me, he was off to a good start.
Glow, you not looking for a man, nor do you want one.
901-428-6632
*Attachment* There is a flight that leaves out in two hours and it can take you back home tomorrow morning. You ain’t gotta be scared, I ain’t gone let shit happen to you, pretty eater.
