Page 6 of Hood Legacy

“Nah, Legacy is what the world thinks Mercy is,” I answered, then licked my lips. “Mama, she dope, like legit dope.” I rubbed my hands together and let my thoughts drift to Legacy. Lowkey, I was obsessed with her ass and had been since Pyrite had given me her file when he was recruiting her for the Queens.

“Then bring her by,” she announced, then went back to smoking. “I don’t know how much time I have left, Aceyn; I need to know that whoever you end up with will be able to handle you and your crazy.”

“I’m a good nigga, mama,” I chuckled.

“I never said you weren’t, but you also aren’t wrapped too tight, either.” She patted my head. “That’s your daddy's side coming out in you.”

“I’ma tell my pops you are talking about him,” I said, shaking my head. “He gonna be over here talking about you talking about him because you want him back.”

“Leave that nigga where he at,” she replied. “You know how he gets when he’s stressed, and me dying is going to stress him out. I don’t need Bowlin coming over here and getting on my nerves.”

“Alright,” I said, nodding. My throat tightened, and my eyes started to water. I was a grown-ass man, but hearing my Mama admit out loud that she was dying fucked with me. I was far from a mama’s boy, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. As much shit as she talked, I was going to call my pops and let him know that she was done fighting. Donald Bowlin was going to come and make sure his ex-wife was taken care of in her last days.

“I’m serious, Aceyn,” she said. “Leave Bowlin where he is at. I don’t need the hood to know my business. I want to go out the same way I went out.”

“Mama, didn’t you tell me once that you went into the hood, guns blazing and fighting over my daddy?” I chuckled, and she popped me in the back of my head. “I was just asking.”

“Stay out of my business, Aceyn,” she laughed softly. “Let me tell the story I want to. A couple of edits to the storyline isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, alright,” I chuckled.

We sat on the porch for the next few hours. Neither of us was ready to move; truthfully, we had nowhere to go. My Mama was my first love, the person who taught me what love was supposed to be. She went to war with the streets for my daddy and their respect, only walking away because my pop made her. It took me years to understand why he intentionally broke her heart, but I got it. He knew he wouldn’t walk away from the streets; it was all he knew besides loving Mama and me, but it was how he made his money and cared for us. The thought of us not being safe never sat right with him, so he did what he had to do: got us out of the hood and put us in the burbs.

My young ass rebelled and went right back; I had to learn the hard way that it wasn’t for me. Setting my sights on something besides the streets took me a minute. Like any young nigga, I was addicted to fast money and the danger of never knowing how my day was going to move. I was good at basketball, and my pop wanted me to pursue it, but that was before shit like the NIL. So, while I played and got a free ride to college, I was still in the streets. It was how I connected with the Stone brothers. Citrine, Pyrite, and Amethyst each had their hands in something illegal, and I wanted in. I spent my college years running the streets and the courts. Getting shot, sat my ass down, and shit started getting real. My Mama was stressed, and my pop was furious. One thing you never did was stress his woman out; it didn’t matter if they were divorced or not. I couldn’t do shit but respect him for letting it be known that I would end up dead because people knew my name and face. The best niggas in the streets were the ones whose names brought fear long before their faces did.

Pyrite approached me once I was healed and offered me a job I couldn’t refuse. He and his brothers were going legit and needed me to move with them. Pyrite wanted to bring basketball back to KC and would need a team doctor. He offered me the job without questions and nothing in return. I agreed and buckled down; since I was already pre-med in college, I put my head down and didn’t lift it until I walked the stage with degrees and letters in front and behind my name.

I told myself the only time I ever wanted my Mama to cry over me was because I made her proud, and if I wasn’t anything else, I was a man of word.

“Legacy,”Givens said as I stood on the other side of the door, staring him down. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. I narrowed my eyes and mugged him hard. I didn’t hate Givens; if anything, I loved that he was dating my best friend and loved her, but we were in a standoff. He’d shown his ass not too long ago and dragged me into some drama with Mercy that I still hadn’t forgiven him for.

“Givens,” I replied.

“You ain’t forgave me yet?” he laughed, then pushed from the frame and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I said I was sorry.”

“Has she given you hell every day since?” I asked as I went back to packing my gym bag. “Because if she hasn’t, I can’t forgive you yet.”

“Man, Burglar gives me hell every day,” he answered with a laugh. “And so does our daughter.”

“I hope you get gray hair early,” I said as I closed my bag and stood. Givens laughed and shook his head. “And my niece is innocent of all things.”

“Faylin got all y'all wrapped around her finger, and y'all don’t even realize it,” he said, kissing his teeth.

“Wrong, we realize it; we just don’t care.” I shrugged, then closed my locker and approached him. Givens put his hand out, and I looked down at it, confused.

“Give me your bag,” he instructed, and I shook my head. “Point Guard, you are stubborn, and I’m trying to call a truce.”

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes at him and waited. Despite what the news and media tried to say, Givens was a good guy. I knew that because I was around him enough to see for myself; plus, Mercy and her family accepted him. The DeCortes did not take just anyone into their fold, and they welcomed him and his daughter without hesitation. “What do you want?”

Givens looked over his shoulder and then turned back to me. When he did, he pulled one of his hands from his pocket, and inside it was a small jewelry box. He flipped it open and inside sat the prettiest engagement ring I’d ever seen: a platinum band with a radiant-cut yellow diamond. It was intricate, with its yellow, orange, and white diamonds woven together. The central diamond had to be at least seven carats, and from the smile on Givens’ face, he was satisfied with how it looked.

“Here,” I handed him my bag and took the box from his hand to examine the ring. The light hit it, and all I could do was smile. My friend was getting her happily ever after, and I was happy that I could witness it.

“You think she’s going to like it?” he questioned, and I looked up to see a nervous smile on his face. “And don’t lie to me, either, cuz if you don’t, then I can call Yale right fucking now and tell her to get her ass back in town so we can get it right.”

“She’s going to love it, Givens,” I laughed and shook my head. “And who is Yale?”

“The jeweler, we go back. She’s Pyrite’s brother Amethyst’s something.” He wiped his hand over his mouth and shrugged. “I don’t know if they’re friends anymore, but at one point, they were connected at the hip.”

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