I silently cursedunder my breath as I saw Mr. Paul’s car pull up to the scene.
I wasn’t looking forward to explaining this to him, but at this point, it couldn’t be avoided. There was no way I could skim over the details of this shit.
“You better go handle that,” my father said.
“I’m going.”
With a heavy sigh, I headed over to where Mr. Paul, Kilow, and Damaris stood behind the caution tape. I motioned for the cop on our payroll to let him in. After instructing his sons to stay back, he dipped under the tape and met me halfway.
“What the fuck happened here?” he asked, looking around.
“Someone pulled up and opened fire.”
“Whatchu’ mean somebody pulled up and opened fire?”
“Mr. Paul, I have some shit to tell you, and you ain’t gonna like it.”
His brows furrowed. “Speak on it.”
I took a deep breath and told him the story from beginning to end, filling in all the parts Shar and I left out during our first conversation about it. The more I revealed, the deeper the scowl on his face became. When I finished the story, he stared at me for a moment before his hands were gripping my shirt, and he was yelling in my face. I held my hands up. I wasn’t no punk ass nigga, but this was my lady’s father. I would never put hands on him.
“The fuck did you get my kid into, muthafucka! That’s my baby. My only fucking daughter, and you got her out here on some inspector gadget ass shit? What did I tell you when we had that conversation? Didn’t I tell you I’ll die about mine? I trusted you to keep her safe, and this is the shit you let her do? This ain’t no muthafucking Bonnie and Clyde around this bitch.”
I could hear my people’s footsteps approaching as he gave me a strong uppercut to the stomach. I couldn’t lie. That shit knocked the wind out of me for a second.
“Don’t put your fucking hands on my son,” my father said, pushing Mr. Paul back.
“Nigga, that’s a grown ass man. Either I’m whupping his ass, or you taking this ass whupping for him.”
My father took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
“Pops, you don’t have to do that,” I said, trying to pull him back.
“Shut the fuck up, Maceo,” he spat. “I don’t care how grown you get. I don’t care how much I love Shar. Ain’t nobody disrespecting my seed in front of me.”
Mr. Paul unbuttoned his jacket.“Stanley, I love your son, but right now, it’s fuck him for putting my daughter in danger.”
“Sharina is a grown ass woman. She made the choice. Maceo didn’t force her into shit.”
“Fuck all that. He should have told her no and stood on that shit. Like I said, either I’m beating his ass, or I’m beating yours. My baby ain’t gonna forgive me if I tear into her nigga like I really want to, so what’s up?”
“I don’t wanna whup your ass, Paul, but if we gotta take it there, we sure the fuck can.”
“You ain’t said shit but a word.”
Mr. Paul took off his jacket and threw it at Kilow and Damaris.
“Yo, we really about to let this shit happen?” I asked, looking at the family.
Uncle Blake shrugged. “I mean, their old asses will get tired. This is how real niggas handle shit.”
The words had barely left his mouth before both my father and Mr. Paul were swinging. There wasn’t a single lick that didn’t land. Right hooks, upper cuts, jabs… all that shit. They were fucking each other up, and everybody just stood around watching, including the police. That was the thing about having them in our pockets. They basically just let shit unfold however it needed to.
Pops and Mr. Paul were throwing hands like two niggas who hated each other. I just knew Shar was gonna fuck me up for letting this shit happen, but it was a fair fight if I’d ever seen one. It wouldn’t be the first time my father had fought to defend one of his children. He’d done it with each of us at some point in life, grown or not. Still, I had to break this shit up before they killed each other because it had gone on long enough. When I stepped in to pull them apart, my brothers fell in line too. Uncle Blake outted his blunt and motioned for his sons to help him with Mr. Paul.
It took every ounce of strength we had to pull them apart. Both of them were fighting off principle, and that made shit ten times as bad.
“All right, y’all, damn!” I yelled. “It’s done.”