Page 56 of Disrespectfully, Relic

“She’s a distraction. I don’t do well with those.”

“You don’t do well with women, period. Kennedy ain’t like those goofy bitches you’re used to collecting and stringing along like puppets,” Shabu jabbed as he rested an elbow on his knee before scratching through his locks while examining his brother. Relic’s face was void of emotion, but he knew the nigga’s mind was on ten. “If you feel like she’s a distraction, why’d you fuck her? Whoop said you delegated a lot of tasks to Kenn Dog, too.”

“You told me to take some shit off your wife’s hands, so I did.”

“Yea, but I ain’t think it’d be given to her. Honestly, I thought you’d use Aura since y’all seemed to click. She reminded me of Jessica a lil’ bit, and that’s more your speed.”

Relic tugged his chin hairs as his eyes floated to where Aura had a leg propped on the section railing while twerking for her fans. He hadn’t noticed that her and Jessica held similarities until Shabu pointed it out, but he didn’t miss the shade that his brother threw by deeming Kennedy above his standards.

“I thought about using her until I realized she was a fluke,” he admitted. “Aura ain’t nothing more than a turned-out church girl, putting on a show she doesn’t even like performing. I figured, I’d bring her in and put that business degree she got to good use, but I couldn’t even do that ‘cause she ain’t built for it. Her ass would fold. At least, Jessica was all in with the bullshit we did.”

“And you think Kennedy would be all in with your bullshit, too?”

“I know she would,” Relic answered without a second thought. “Now, ask me if I think she’d fold once finding out what I did to her.”

Shabu huffed a breath, scrubbing a hand over his mouth because he knew that call was on him. Savvy had grown close to Kennedy, so he’d put in the word that she was good because she stayed to herself and didn’t intervene in his family’s business. Relic and her having a situation could shift that opinion in the long run.

“So, your best bet is to cut her off, right? Nip that shit in the bud and go back to ignoring her before it gets sticky,” he recommended.

“You know what she told me,” Relic started, disregarding his brother’s advice. “She told me, every game has a cheat code, and there’s always a loophole. I haven’t stopped thinking about that shit since.”

“So, what do you need a loophole for? To keep Kennedy around, or to cut her off without cutting heroff?”

“That’s a good question. Just be ready in case you get that call since you wanted to hand out passes.”

“You should thank me, muthafucka, because it seems like you’re feeling her, and that’s why yo goddamn brain is about to explode. Shit, I might need to keep an eye on her to make sure you don’t knock her block off for that reason alone.”

“If I decide to do it myself, can’t shit but her beating me to the punch stop it from happening. I’d do it so smooth, none of y’all would see that shit coming.”

Relic stood with that forewarning, dismissed the frown on his brother’s face, and trekked toward Drish after spotting him bopping through the roped off entrance with a cup in his hand and eager eyes. He’d sent word for the youngin’ to slide through so that he could make good on his promise since Drish had done his part.

Drish was too distracted giving the section a visual sweep—taking in Tekken and Pierre pouring liquor into bitches’ mouths over the railing while Calm recorded—that he didn’t notice Relic heading his way. Once he did, his mouth stretched into a smile so wide that his cheeks tingled.

“So, this is how y’all do it, huh? Y’all living the muthafuckin’ life,” he extolled, evoking a scoff from Relic.

“If this is what you call living the life, you need bigger ambitions. And why the hell do you always have a cup in your hand? Are you twenty-one yet?”

“Nineteen, but I use my brother’s ID. The nigga is dead, so he don’t need it.”

Drish sipped his drink after divulging that information. He stared at Relic over the rim of his clear cup, waiting for condolences or the look of pity that he was used to receiving once people found out. To his surprise, he got neither.

“Follow me over here,” Relic directed with a toss of his head.

Drish followed his lead, taking in the other faces in attendance as he was led past the leather sectional and to a corner where the music wasn’t as loud and they could converse in private. His eyes went to the nearby table, and he detoured there—downing the remainder of his drink to refill his cup with the expensive black and gold bottle he’d seen served in clubs but never tasted. When he jogged back to Relic, he chuckled at the disdained downturn of the nigga’s mouth.

“What? I ain’t ever had this shit before, and it’s free. I figured I’ll try it while the getting is good.”

“Who taught you that old ass saying?” Relic cracked a smile at Drish’s old soul.

“Ma grand mère. That’s who raised me since I was eight. I moved back with my ma dukes after my brother died ‘cause you know how that goes. He was the man of the house, but I had to fill those shoes once he was gone. Ma dukes wasn’t working, and I ain’t want her struggling with my little sister, so it is what it is.”

“Why didn’t you just take your sister?”

“Different daddies, and his side is strict. My grand mère wasn’t letting her come there if she ain’t blood.”

“So, you’re left hustling and risking your life instead of living decent with your other folks, and your mother didn’t have the selflessness to tell you to stay where you were and that she’d figure it out?”

Drish snorted a laugh before emptying his cup in one swallow. He wiped his mouth and replied, “That ain’t the kind of mother I got. Like I said, it is what it is.”

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